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dragon-kazansky · 7 months

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Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Now awake, it is time to rebuild The Dreaming. The Corianthian is still loose in The Waking World, and Morpheus is trying to make up for lost time. Your husband has a lot to learn.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Starts off pretty steamy.

Chapter Four - Never let go

☆☆☆

Morpheus and you did not leave that room for several hours. Matthew had offered to come fetch you both, but Lucienne advised Matthew to leave you both for a while. There was a lot of time to be made up for.

Matthew understood what she meant.

You lay in the bed as you look up at your husband. He hovers over you, looking at you with soft blue eyes. She reaches out to touch his bare shoulder, stroking along his neck with gentle fingers.

He leans in and kisses your lips softly. You listen to quiet breaths as his lips move from your lips to your neck. His hair tickles your chin as he moves further down to your collarbone.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his lips move down to your chest. His kisses are soft and warm. They have been missed dearly.

Though you have no aspect of time passing, he has spent a century locked away put of reach. He has felt every second pass by without you.

No longer.

You gasp softly as he moves further down. He commiting every inch of you to memory. It almost feels like he had never been away at all.

You become a tangle of limbs as the kissing turns into something greater.

It only after, when you're laying naked and wrapped up in one another, that you finally get the chance to speak. You have reunited and in the best way possible.

"Tell me what happened."

Morpheus presses his lips to the top of your head as he recalls all that has happened. He tells you of the moment he was captured, his escape, Gregory, Constantine, his trip to Hell, and to moment he got his full power back.

"Oh no, Jessamy..."

"I am sorry. She tried to help me."

"Do not apologise. She was very brave. She made us both proud."

He kisses your head again. "I have Matthew now."

"Good. You need a raven."

"I do not need a raven."

"You are the dream lord, and the dream lord has a raven."

He sighs in defeat. He knows he can not argue this with you.

"Very well."

You chuckle softly.

"I am sorry about your ruby."

"Why?" He asks, brows knitting together. "My power was released back into me after it was shattered. I am whole again. I am the one who is sorry. I lost my ring."

You look at his hand.

"Make a new one."

"It won't be the same."

"It doesn't have to be. Morpheus, you don't need a ring to show you are mine. You just need to love me."

"I do. I do love you."

You smile and reach up to stroke his cheek. He tilts his head into your palm, chasing your touch. He needs your warmth.

"I am sorry for leaving."

"Morpheus, if you apologise one more time, I'm going to push you out of the bed."

He chuckles softly and leans in, kissing your lips. "No, you won't."

You smile as you return his kiss. "You're right I won't."

☆☆☆

You walk hand in hand with Morpheus into the throne room. It hasn't yet been rebuilt. You smile as you approach Lucienne and Matthew. You reach let go of Morpheus to reach for Lucienne's hands.

"Lucienne."

"My lady," she smiles and bow her head.

You chuckles and wraps your arm around her. She is caught off guard for a moment but accepts your hug. You take her hands into yours again and smile at her. "Thank you."

"What for, my lady?"

"For looking after everything. For looking after me."

Lucienne looks a little awe struck.

"I heard you. I could hear you talking to me. Though my slumber was without dreams, I could hear your voice."

"My lady..."

"You stayed. You looked after me. Looked after the realm. I can not thank you enough for that."

Lucienne adjusts her glasses. "It was the least I could do."

You shake your head. "It was everything. I am honoured to have you as my friend and companion here."

Lucienne smiles.

"My husband is grateful too. He just doesn't know how to say it." You say, looking at Morpheus. He pretends not to hear you as he approaches the steps to the throne.

Your eyes turn to the raven. You smile as you gaze down at him.

"You must be Matthew. Its nice to meet you."

"You too, my lady." He bows his head with respect.

You look back up at Morpheus as he stands with his hand open and slightly raised at his sides. He takes a few deep breaths. You remain standing with Lucienne and Matthew as Morpheus uses his power to rebuild The Dreaming. He starts with the throne room.

The rubble and glass lift from the ground and slowly start to return to where they once were. Walls are rebuilt, the windows are mended, and the floors become clear of any debris. Bit by bit, the palace is put back together.

Morpheus lowers his arms and looks up at you. "The rest will be rebuilt in time."

You smile softly. "Take your time. Don't overdo it."

"Do I ever?"

"Sometimes."

Morpheus smiles softly at you and returns to your side. "We should take a walk."

You reach for his hand and then turn back to Lucienne. "I'll catch up with you again later."

She nods once and watches you walk out of the throne room with Morpheus.

☆☆☆

"Where are we going?"

"For a walk."

"Yes, but where?" You chuckle softly. Morpheus looked at you with a tesing smile. It wasn't often he did smile, but you found it easy to make him do so.

"To see some friends."

You chuckles as you follow him.

It's only when you see the two houses that you smile and let go of his hand. You hurry on ahead.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

You wait a few moments before the doors open on each house. A head pops out of each. You smile at the brothers.

Cain and Abel exit their houses and approach you.

"You're awake!" Abel smiles. "My lady."

The brothers both bow to her.

"It's good to see you both again." You smile at the pair of them. The brothers look at each other and then back at you.

"We're so glad you're awake!" Abel cheers.

"Yes. It is good news indeed."

"I want to apologise for Gregory, but he helped Morpheus greatly by what he did. It was very brave of you to let him go."

The two fall quiet.

"But I also hear you got a new friend." You smile.

"He's called Goldie." Abel calls for him. The baby gargoyle comes over. You chuckle softly.

"Hello Goldie."

The little gargoyle makes a little noise.

Morpheus just watches you silently from behind. You talk a little more with Abel and Cain and then take his hand once more. You wave to the brothers as you both walk away.

☆☆☆

"Fiddler's Green is gone?" You ask, looking at the vacant space the beautiful meadow once was.

"It seems he took his leave after I did not return."

You turn to Morpheus. "You blame yourself?"

"He never leaves his post before."

"Morpheus, it's not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"Everything happened because I left."

"No. No." You shake your head as you reach for his hand and hold them close to your chest. "I blame The Corianthian. If he had not left for the Waking World, you wouldn't have had to chase after him. You wouldn't have been trapped."

"We don't know that," he says.

"Let me have faith in the fact that it was just one thing after another. Things just did not go to plan, and a century was robbed from us. We're together again now."

"But he still out there," Morpheus reminds you.

"Yes, and you also have all your power back. You will find him again. I am certain of it."

Morpheus falls quiet. You reach out and caress his cheek softly. "Please don't blame yourself any more."

He says nothing as he looks at you. You do the only thing you can think of to cheer him up. You lean in and kiss him softly. You feel Morpheus melt as your lips touch his.

He's very soft when it comes to his wife.

"Everything will be okay. Let's take one issue at a time."

He nods softly.

You smile and kiss him again.

☆☆☆

The library had returned. Lucienne was beyond pleased, but that meant she had a lot of work on her hands. You offered to help her. At first, she refused your help, but you insisted. Lucienne lost that battle.

Books were stacked everywhere. You helped Lucienne take account of all the books that had returned. There are so many dreams, so many lives.

Matthew was perched on the table. He would fly off to find other books Lucienne asked for. It was quite nice spending time with them like this.

"So this is where you disappeared too."

You smile as you look up and find your husband walking over. You left his side about an hour ago while he went off to rebuild some more of The Dreaming.

"I figured I'd let you concentrate."

"That you did, but I found myself missing you when I was done. Having spent a century away from you, I dare not wish to spend another second apart."

You chuckle softly and glance at your companions. Lucienne is pretending not to listen, and Matthew isn't even attempting to pretend.

"Is that so?"

"Do you not feel the same?" He asks softly.

You look back at him. "Of course I do. Morpheus, I slept through that century, but believe me, knowing we spent that century apart breaks my heart." You walk closer to him and take his hands in yours.

"I'm sorry I keep mentioning it."

"What did I tell you about apologising?" She chuckle.

He smiles. "You'll push me out of our bed."

"Yes. Now hush. I think Lucienne and Matthew can take it from here. How about we go spend more time together? Assuming you're done for the day?"

He smiles again. "I would like that."

You take your leave of the library while holding his hand. Lucienne and Matthew watch you both leave.

"He seems happy," Matthew points out.

"He is," Lucienne smiles gently. "He always is when he's with her."

Matthew cocks his head to the side slightly. "I don't think I've ever seen love like that before."

"No. What they have is quite special."

☆☆☆

Morpheus stops you from walking and pulls you closer. He settles his hands on your hips and looks at you softly.

"What is it?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet.

"I just want to look at you."

You stare back at him, admiring his features, too. His pretty blue eyes, his pink lips, his strong jaw. He's handsome. A dream. A real dream.

"The entire time I was trapped, you were the only thing that kept me going. I thought about you constantly. It may sound cruel, but I am somewhat glad you slept through the whole thing. The thought of you here missing me hurt. I worried about you every single day," he confesses.

"Morpheus, you don't have to worry anymore. I am right here in front of you." You take his hands and place them on each side of your face.

"I know. I see you."

You smile and gaze into his eyes. "I see you too."

Morpheus wraps both of his long arms around you and pulls you in close to his chest. "I'm never letting go," he whispers in your ear.

You smile.

"Neither am I."

Morpheus takes the opportunity to steal another kiss from you. You happily oblige, wanting to remind your husband just how much you love him.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @emarich7 - @lollipopsandlandmines -

#symphony of dreams #morpheus x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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idksmtms · 2 months

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You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 7

Full Request Part

Part 6 << PART7 >> Part 8

AN: I am so so sorry that this took me so long! I’m ngl, I lost a bit of inspiration for this for a while but I kinda forced myself to sit down and write it and it felt really good to finish something I felt I had given up on! I tried to make it a big one to make up for all the time I was gone!

I also went back and read all the Anon messages I got from so many people and they really helped me, so thank you to absolutely everyone and all the anons who contributed ideas. I def included some in this part (and the coming parts) so if you spot it, I hope you enjoy it!

Also, for the timing of his birthday versus when he started at Yancy Academy, IDK guys, I made it up. I don’t actually know about when he started versus when his birthday was so just… let it go ig.

ALSO, I copied the dialogue for the diner scene almost verbatim from the show so I can’t take credit for writing that, but the descriptions attached to the dialogue are still mine.

PS. I got a new divider that I love heheheh

Also, I really hope y’all notice the significance of each of his birthday presents because I worked so unnecessarily hard on those.

Summary: In one place, Percy grows up with his Aunt Sally, dealing with the struggles of being a demigod child. In another, you try to pretend you haven’t just given up your son and a life you have always wanted. Neither world is going as one would hope.

Word count: 7.3k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, insecurity about one’s parenting, absentee parents technically, light angst, Percy believing there is something wrong with him, negative view of one’s own ADHD and dyslexia, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

When you returned to Valhalla, you tried to put on a brave face. Your return was denoted by a grand feast, and the Aesir were simply so happy to see you return no one questioned the way you occasionally turned away to brush off stray tears or gazed at Yggdrasil as if you wanted to see into one of the worlds nestled in its branches. But aside from all of that, you were rather good at pretending to be happy. You drank a few sips of ale for every mug Thor drained, you danced half the night with Baldur, and you sat cosied up with Loki, ready to listen to whatever story of his latest shenanigans he wished to bestow on you. Everyone was happy. Things were as they were meant to be.

As the sun began to creep toward the horizon and the Aesir made their way out of the grand hall, you found yourself walking with Odin back to your old quarters in Valhalla. When he first came up to you as you stood from the feast table, he had wrapped you up in his arms, whispering how he was happy at your return. Even now, he occasionally turns to look at you with his remaining eye and smiles gently. The walk was peaceful, quiet, a stillness in the air at that hour just before dawn.

“Do you know what I gave up my eye for?” He asked out of the blue. You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head and looking at him almost incredulously.

“Of course, all the gods know, you sacrificed your eye for all the knowledge of the world.”

“Hm,” he nodded. Then he stopped in the hallway and turned to fully face you. You clasped your hands in front of you, heart suddenly beating just a little faster. “Did you know that this also means I know about Perseus?”

You could suddenly hear the blood rushing in your ears. You could see Odin in front of you, but you also couldn’t. Your hands were sweaty and your dress was suddenly tight around your ribs. You looked up at him, shallow breaths blowing from your lips. But then Odin smiled, a small sad smile that somehow broke your heart just that little bit more.

“I am the only one that knows, and it should be kept that way.” He reached out and caressed your cheek, and you closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek that he wiped away. “If it were different, I would have cherished meeting him.” Then he pulled away and walked back in the direction of the feasting hall. You listened to his footsteps fade away, before entering the room you had left behind for millenia.

Every year, without fail, it rained on Percy’s birthday. When he first noticed, he thought it meant something special. That there was something magical out there, wishing him well. Whatever higher power was out there, they knew he loved to swim, to be in the water, and they sent the rain just for him. As he grew, he began simply chalking it up to weather patterns. August was just the time of year when rain happened upon the city. It wasn’t anything special, this was simply the one part of his life where he was lucky.

Sally knew it was a blessing. She knew it was his father, celebrating the day in the best way he knew how, sending a message to Percy in the only way he could. She always took Percy outside, regardless of if the rain became a storm. She knew Percy would be safe in the rain. They made it a habit to go onto the fire-escape when the rain was at its worst, and they would spin around and dance and laugh.

In all the time Sally had spent raising Percy, through all the challenges and the struggles, she never failed to notice how alike to his mother he was. Percy, seemingly since he was born, was obsessed with the colour blue. He only wanted to eat blue food, only wanted to wear blue clothes (it took a lot of convincing to introduce other colours to his wardrobe) and all the toys he chose were blue. He had an immense sweet tooth, and every time she watched him bite into a blue chocolate chip cookie, she fondly remembered the afternoon she had sat with his mother and watched the ravenous pregnant woman devour an entire tray of those same cookies. He smiled brightly and constantly, always happy and mischievous, just like his mother. But he was also trapped like his mother. He also cried like his mother. And most of all, both good and bad, he loved just as sincerely, as fiercely as his mother.

Every year on Percy’s birthday, this fierce love was demonstrated. A surprise present would arrive, wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper with only ‘To Percy Jackson’ written on it in loopy, elegant handwriting. Each year the box contained something different, something odd but somehow heartwarming and special. Sometimes he didn’t know why in the world someone would send him these things, but they felt important, and he kept them lined up on the chest of drawers opposite his bed, and counted them each night before he went to bed. At least when he was still living at home. He even had presents from years he didn’t remember, going all the way from his first birthday to his latest.

On his first birthday, he had apparently received a spool of golden thread. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why someone would give a one year old thread. It’s a choking hazard! What were they thinking?! But it was beautiful and shiny, and sometimes he thought it might just be real gold, but he didn’t want to find out if it was. It somehow felt… more than just something for money. He used it only for the most important things, but however much he seemed to unravel, the thread never seemed to end.

On his second birthday, the package was smaller. Sally sat him up and unwrapped it in front of him to reveal a little toy throne. It was small, about the size of an adult hand, and made of hard resin. It was so intricate, coloured like the ocean, even white and frothy in some places, and looked as if it was made with the whorls of the ocean. It had been his favourite little toy for a long time.

His third birthday present was simply a feather. It was beautiful, and no matter how much he crushed the fibres or threw it around, it never lost its perfect shape. It came with a flat metal stand that had a little foam rectangle in the centre so he could stick the tip of the feather into it and leave it as a decoration. The metal stand was simply labelled ‘Pegasus’ and three year old Percy staunchly believed it was a feather from the wing of a Pegasus. Even at the ripe old age of thirteen he sometimes still liked to hope it was a feather from Pegasus, simply so he could believe that magic existed.

For his fourth birthday, he received a framed painting. Even at four years old he thought it was weird, and he still believed it was an absolutely insane present to get a four year old. A painting? Seriously? It was beautiful though, and he appreciated it a lot more once he was older than he did at the time. He didn’t know where it was supposed to show, there was no date and no artist’s signature. The edges showed that the viewer was looking through the mouth of a cave onto some type of secret hidden lake. Trees surrounded the lake, and it had the most beautiful clear water. The artist had even depicted the rocks at the bottom, and sometimes, in the quietest and stillest moments of the day, if he looked really hard at the painting, he could almost see the water lapping at the shore. He could almost hear the gentle chirp of birds and the soft rustle of leaves. The entire painting always made him feel so odd, as if he could feel someone’s else's memories, someone else’s feelings. Someone had been happy there once, but now they only looked at it with sadness, as if a wonderful day by the lake had been ruined by a fight in the car on the way home.

His fifth birthday present was just as odd as the rest of them. He still didn’t quite understand why someone had gifted him five oysters with pearls inside of them. He didn’t believe the pearls were real (that was the only reason he hadn’t pawned or sold them off so he could get some extra money for his Aunt Sally) simply because he had never seen an oyster like that. No one had, not even google. He thought they were pretty though, and kept them lined up on the back of his nightstand rather than on the chest of drawers.

His favourite birthday present, from all those he had ever received, came on his sixth birthday. It was a conch shell, bigger than both the palms of his hands put together, with a dark blue colour that slowly faded to white as it twisted in on itself. Normally when he held it up to his ear, he could hear the sea, but unlike any other conch he had ever listened to. He could hear waves crashing, he could hear the ruffling and snuffling sort of sound they made as they frothed onto the shore. He could hear the swoosh as the waves pulled back. He could even hear the distant sort of gurgling a person hears when they’re underwater in the ocean, the sound of water moving about you. But then, at the darkest parts of the night, when he couldn’t sleep for whatever reason and pressed the shell to his ear, he could hear a gentle voice whispering ‘I love you’. It was soft, but calming and loving, the kind of ‘I love you’ a father whispers to his son just as he puts him to bed. He had never heard the voice before, but secretly he always wished it was somehow the voice of his own father. He tried not to think about that as much anymore. His father simply wasn’t here.

A little zombie looking figurine arrived for his seventh birthday. This one felt a little more kid-appropriate, and he had loved playing with it when he was still into action figures. For a while he hadn’t known what character it was supposed to be, because while it looked like a zombie, it didn’t really look like the zombie figurines he had seen some of the other kids play with. The little circle that connected the two feet of the figurine was engraved with the word ‘Draugr’ and Aunt Sally had had to google that for him. The stories had scared him so much that for a while he had hidden the figure in the back of his toybox.

By the time his eighth birthday had rolled around, he had begun to grow an interest in Greek mythology and the stories of Greek heroes. When he received a little storybook on Perseus and his adventures, he had asked Sally if she was the one sending him the secret presents. It had to be his Aunt Sally. She knew he liked Greek mythology, she had been the one to tell him that he was named after Perseus. Sure, the earlier gifts had been really weird, but maybe she had just become a better gift-giver over time? But Aunt Sally denied it, and when they opened the book, a little picture had been put in as a bookmark. It depicted a cabin high up on the cliffs of the fjords, small but homely looking, and it was simply marked with the word Norway in the bottom corner in that same loopy handwriting. Sally had simply replied “see, it can’t be from me because I’ve never even been to Norway. Plus, kid, have you ever seen me write that neatly?” He had sat there and read the entire book, pushing through even though the letters bounced around and sometimes he had to look completely away to be able to try and focus again. He kept the picture in the book and the book on his nightstand as well. Though he had read it countless times, thumbed each page a million times, the book still looked good as new.

On his ninth birthday he got… a jar of sand. He was pretty disappointed at first, staring at it for a whole minute after he had taken it out of the wrapping. But then he saw that a little label had been pasted onto the top of the metal lid of the jar that simply said ‘Montauk’ and he realised it must be from the beach in front of the cabins they went to every year. It was seemingly sentimental, and it had made Aunt Sally smile all sad and happy and teary that he had told her to keep it in her room, so it would stay safe.

On his tenth birthday, he only received an envelope. It was made of the same shimmery blue paper as the wrapping of all the other gifts he had ever received, and it had the same loopy handwriting, but it had been pushed under the door. Aunt Sally usually got her letters from the box downstairs, he had thought it was weird, but she had told him not to worry, that this must be special because it was his birthday. The only thing in the envelope was a picture. It was square, and about the size of a polaroid, but glossy like it had been taken by a digital camera and printed at some fancy shop. He couldn’t quite tell what it was at first. It looked like it was taken underwater, he could see little flecks of seaweed floating and sand that had been kicked up by the waves and little bubbles here and there. He could see the sandy floor as well, the way some of it was mid-movement with the waves. ‘Midnight on Montauk - where the water meets the sand’ was written on the back, and he thought it was weird that he had gotten two gifts from Montauk now. Nevertheless, he pinned the picture to the corkboard above his chest of drawers.

On his eleventh birthday he got a gold coin. He was so excited at first. This was the first time he had ever gotten money as a present, let alone a frickin’ gold coin! He had even promised Aunt Sally he would take her out for ice cream with the money from the coin. But then he had looked at it again and realised that it was stamped with a trident on both sides. He had suddenly deflated, thinking it was some kind of gimmick coin they sold at souvenir shops (this gift-giver seemed to be way too sentimental) but Aunt Sally had quickly pressed it into his palm and told him to keep it very very safe. He kept it on him at all times now. At least some of his jeans had that little seemingly useless pocket, making it easy for him to carry it around.

His last birthday, the one right before everything went wrong for the millionth time and got him sent to Yancy Academy, had brought a flat box filled with shredded paper. Nestled inside it was a framed weather report from the day he had been born. At the top was the cut out of a headline ‘Largest Storm to Ever Hit Montauk and all of New York’. Below it, there were a bunch of different images, from graphs about the intensity of the rainfall to satellite images of the eye of the storm and the area it covered. He thought it was kind of funny, and he put it up proudly on the chest of drawers. That day was the first time in a long time he had thought the rain on his birthday really meant something again. Maybe it wasn’t something special for him, maybe it was just the weather remembering the storm it had put on that day, and sending some rain in its memory. But it meant something.

Grover heard whispers in his dreams. He never quite remembered what they were, never quite remembered what they said, but he knew that something whispered to him in his sleep. A woman, a soft, lilting voice that sounded just out of reach, was all that he had gleaned thus far. He didn’t know if the forces were good or bad, where the voice came from, but whenever he awoke there was a small niggling feeling inside him that he should be doing something. Deep in the pit of his stomach he felt like he had to be outside Camp Half-Blood, had to be chasing something or maybe finding something. It was an itch that no other satyr duty seemed to satiate. No amount of berries collected, animal cages cleaned, campfires attended made him forget the voice, forget the desire to follow its orders, whatever they may be.

When he got his next mission to escort a demigod back to the camp, everything seemed to click into place inside him. When he was told that he would be responsible for bringing Percy Jackson safely back to the camp, it was like the gods themselves had come in and soothed whatever had been writhing inside him. This was what he had been waiting for. This was what the whispers had commanded for him. And somehow, he knew that this was the most important journey in his entire life…

Three days before Percy’s twelfth birthday, a blue butterfly landed on his hand as he sat outside his latest school. It was the end of his first official week at Yancy Academy, and the school was rather… daunting. All the kids looked at him like he was dirt beneath their shoes and nothing seemed to be clicking with him. He was trying his best. When the kids whispered about him, he ignored it. When they started messing with his things, he just asked his teachers for new notebooks and moved on. Whatever they did, he chose to try peace and quiet. He didn’t want to make life even more difficult for his Aunt Sally, she was already doing everything she could to make sure he had a decent school to go to; this was their last chance and he wasn’t going to be the one that screwed it up.

He sighed and rested his elbows on his crossed legs, staring out at the yard. If nothing else, at least Yancy had a nice garden to look at. He hadn’t noticed the fluttering little creature until it was directly in his line of sight. It took a few turns around in front of his face before landing directly on the tip of his nose. The little legs were slightly ticklish and he breathed out of his mouth to resist the urge to sneeze.

It was beautiful. It almost glowed in the light, like a haze was surrounding its edges, and he reached up to gently touch the tip of its wing. It shattered right in front of his eyes, like a glass breaking against the floor. The little pieces floated all around and landed on his clothes, sticking to his jeans. He stared at his lap, wide eyed. What the- He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths in, a technique one of the many councillors had taught him to try and re-centre himself in the world. When he opened his eyes again, the pieces were still there, like glitter all over his clothes, but they were beginning to fade.

Percy stared at his clothes, at the fading pieces of a butterfly that had somehow flown directly to him then shattered like glass, and stood up with a determination to forget this ever happened. He shook his head, as if to shake his brain into action. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No one would believe him anyway. This was just another pegasus in the window. He wouldn’t speak of it until the next time he was at home. Aunt Sally could calm him down, Aunt Sally would make him feel better and they would solve this. There was just something fundamentally wrong with him, they needed to fix it soon. With a clench of his fist, he walked back inside, only to bump directly into someone who quickly introduced themselves as Grover Underwood….

“And then Grover beat me, Aunt Sally!” Percy told her excitedly as they sat at the dining table ravenously devouring stacks of blue pancakes. Sally smiled down at the boy, reaching forward and ruffling his curly hair as he shoved another forkful into his mouth.

“Grover sounds awesome, I’m glad you guys found each other,” she told him happily, pretending like the satyr hadn’t already introduced himself as Percy’s guardian. “If you want, you can invite him up here today, we can have a little birthday party.”

“Nah, todays about you and me Aunt Sally,” he smiled brightly up at her, syrup painting the corners of his mouth, and she stood up to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Alright then mister, have I got plans for you this weekend! I was gonna get us passes for the waterpark today but I knew it was gonna rain so it’s been postponed for tomorrow. Today will start with a swim at the indoor pool in a country club in Manhattan! Someone I know gave me her pass for the weekend,” Sally giggled, reaching out to high five Percy as he exclaimed ‘no way!’.

“Is it Denise? I love Denise,” Percy asked excitedly, momentarily forgetting his plate.

“No, I mentioned to one of my regular customers that it’s your birthday this weekend and that you love to swim so she got us signed up as her guests for the weekend!” Sally explained, smiling triumphantly.

Though she always tried her hardest, sometimes she felt like Percy missed out on a better life because she didn’t make enough money. But Percy simply jumped up and hugged her tightly, whispering a ‘thank you’ against her ear.

“Hold on, you haven’t even heard the entire plan!” She exclaimed, laughing as he pulled away and raised his hands as if in surrender. “Ok, so, then we’re gonna go get ice cream, I found this cool place near the country club that has a bunch of blue ice creams and I thought we could get a scoop of each so we have those cones piled with like ten scoops. Then we’ll come back here for a mov-”

There was a knock at the door. Sally frowned for a second, turning to the door, but there was no other sound and she looked back to Percy as something dawned on her. She smiled gently, a rather wistful look in her eyes all of a sudden, and got up from where she was sitting adjacent to him.

“That must be your special present.” Percy swallowed his latest too-big mouthful and got up from the table to meet Aunt Sally in the hallway.

It was cube shaped this time, about the size of both his palms put together, and it had simply been left in front of their door. Sally brought the box inside and they stood by the window to look at it in the dim grey light from outside. It was covered in that same shiny blue wrapping paper as every other year, and his name was written in that same loopy style with a fresh black pen. His face was contorted in confusion and he took it from Sallys hands, ripping through the wrapping paper to the baby blue cardboard box beneath. He opened that too and Sally watched on curiously as he pulled out something wrapped in bubble wrap. Percy pulled the little pieces of tape holding it together and unfolded the sheet of wrapping to find a snowglobe nestled inside.

The little stand that the orb was perched on was a blue so dark it was almost black, and smooth, without any engraving or description of the scene inside the ball. The globe itself showed a little scene of what looked like a campground, with lots of cabins and a big bonfire in the middle. It even had a little sign pointing in different directions, and had an open-air pavilion near the edge. It was cute, a little fancy, but he had no idea why in the world someone would send this to him. He had never been to camp before, but especially not this camp, whatever it was. He held it up to Sally and frowned at it.

“I have no idea where this is,” he told her, but she was staring at it so intensely that he paused. Percy raised an eyebrow and pushed it toward her. “You know where this is? Have you been here before?” At first Sally didn’t answer, because yes, she knew where it was, she knew exactly what the snow globe was showing her, and she knew that it was a message. It meant that soon, she would have to say goodbye to Percy, and soon Percy would know everything she had been hiding from him his entire life.

“It’s a campground, right?” She asked nonchalantly, “it’s cute though, I like it. Keep it on your dresser, I’m sure one day you’ll know more about it.” And she shrugged as if that day wasn’t coming very soon.

Percy shrugged in return and went to his room to put the snowglobe on the dresser. A beam of sunlight had broken through the clouds and sparkled in the rain right onto his dresser. The water in the painting looked like it was moving again, and a phantom wind ruffled the fibres on the feather. He put the snowglobe between them carefully, directly in the light of the sun, and a little bit of glitter in the globe shined directly onto his eye. He squinted and bent down to look at it again. There, hidden behind one of the cabins because of the way he had been holding it earlier, was a tiny blue butterfly. It was so small it was easy to miss, but it looked exactly like the butterfly that had come to him. Percy felt his heart begin to race. Surely this was a coincidence. He blinked and rubbed his eyes roughly, then looked down at the snowglobe again. It was still there. The butterfly almost looked like it flapped its wings in the sunlight. No, surely not, this was just another sign that he was going crazy, that there was something really wrong with him.

Percy shoved the snowglobe behind the painting and walked right back out to find Aunt Sally. She was sitting on the sofa waiting for him, smiling when he came over to her, but quickly her lips drooped into a frown at the look on his face.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” She asked, pulling him down to sit beside her.

“Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. It’s happening again, it’s exactly like the horse on the rooftop and I-I don’t kno-”

“Hey. Ok, let’s take a deep breath. Ok, good, one, two, three, four, ok now big release. Alright, good, now, start from the beginning.” She gently cupped his cheek for a moment before folding her hands in her lap and watching his face.

“I was sitting in the garden at Yancy, I don’t know, I’d had kind of a crummy day, I guess, but then suddenly this butterfly came fluttering to me. Aunt Sally, I have never seen a butterfly like that. It’s like it wasn’t real. It was all shiny and like-like it was glowing? I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like it actually existed. But it came right up to me and landed on my nose. And I thought that was so cool, so I kinda just reached up and touched it. I mean, I didn’t even really touch it, the tip of my finger kinda just brushed it, but then it burst. I don’t even know, it shattered like it was made of glass. And that’s crazy because that’s not possible. Animals don’t shatter like that, nothing real shatters like that and just disappears. It broke into glitter and was all over me! I was trying to brush it off but it-it just wouldn’t come off, and then slowly, it just started to… fade away. Just like that. Ugh, I don’t know Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. I mean, it’s not normal to be seeing visions, even I know that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I believe you,” she added simply, staring at him as if everything he had just said was the most important words to ever have come out of someone’s mouth.

“What?” Percy tilted his head and looked at her with a frown, as if suddenly she was the crazy one, not him.

“I believe you. I believe that that happened to you, but we’ll talk about that some other time.” She smiled sadly at him, reaching out to gently brush the hair away from his forehead. Percy scoffed, pulling back from her slightly.

“What does that even mean? You just said you believed me, we need to talk about it now.”

“Percy, when the time is right, we’ll talk about it,” Sally sighed, knowing she couldn’t delay this conversation for much longer. She just wanted him to be a kid as long as possible… “But today is your birthday, and we’re supposed to be having fun before you go back to school. So come on,” she clapped her hands and stood up, “there is a bag of blue jelly beans sitting in the kitchen with your name on it!” She sing-songed.

“But Aunt Sally-”

“Percy. Some other time.” Her lips were set in a line and her tone left no more room for argument. Sally left him to go to her room to start packing a backpack with stuff they would need for the pool, while Percy made his way to the kitchen and began slowly chewing on blue jelly beans, his mind stuck on the butterfly.

That night, after a long day of swimming, and a little too much sugar, Sally sat in the middle of little garden they had made on their floor of the fire escape and let the rain douse her. She had already shoved a hungover Gabe into bed and locked the door on him in case he wanted to come back out and make any noise that disturbed Percy, and now, under the rain, she let her thoughts wander to the past thirteen years.

Life with Percy had been as beautiful and loving as it had been difficult. She had known, from the beginning, that Percy would not be a normal kid. As much as his parents wanted him to be, as much as she wanted it for him, it simply wouldn’t happen. He was too special, the product of two worlds too incomprehensible.

She remembered all the calls to schools. He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t learn, he was too ‘disruptive’, too ‘distracted’. Each time it boiled her blood, broke her heart, because he wasn’t even made for this world, but these people had the audacity to reduce this child to what they considered bad things. She remembered all the times he would cry, clinging to her with his little hands wondering why he couldn’t be like the other kids, why he couldn’t focus like other kids or why he couldn’t study like the other kids, why he didn’t have parents like the other kids…

She remembered the first time she had told little Percy about his dad. How excited he had been to learn that somewhere out there, he did have parents, parents who loved him and wanted to be with him but for some inexplicable reason, couldn’t. She had seen the way he had slowly dismissed that childish hope as he grew up, how he stopped asking about his mom, how he stopped wondering if he looked like his dad. He never asked anymore.

The day she had used the coin suddenly floated to the front of her mind as she wiped the water from her eyes. She remembered it vividly. It had been a bad day. The baddest of days at that point. Percy was struggling, and she was on edge. There was a storm. It was still the years when she had been scared of storms, when they reminded her of the day Percy was born, the fear in Y/n’s eyes, the pain in Poseidon’s. She had driven them away from yet another school and decided to stop at a diner for lunch. Maybe ice cream would improve Percy’s mood.

They had eaten in silence, neither of them ready to talk to the other. She had tried to make a few jokes before the food came, hoping to lift Percy’s mood, but he had simply pushed the salt and pepper shakers around the table and mumbled answers to her. After that she had given up on her attempts and sat in silence, staring out of the window and stewing in her own struggles. Maybe this was her breaking point, she thought. Maybe this was the moment when she couldn’t raise Percy anymore. She was struggling, and the last thing she wanted to do was to ruin his life because she couldn’t cope with raising a godly child. What could she do? No one could understand her situation, she couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. Was this the time to send him to camp? Was it the time to let him go, for his sake? Tears had begun to prick at her eyes but she wiped them away as the server had come by.

They had finished their mains, and she had ordered a sundae for Percy in as excited a voice as she could manage, glad to see a little smile begin to curl at his lips. The server had engaged with him as well, asking him what toppings he wanted and how many ‘extras’ to add before telling the chef he wanted chocolate sauce. She had smiled at the server in thanks before telling Percy to stay put as she got up from the stall and went to the bar to settle the bill.

At the bar, she asked for a glass of tap water and the bill, and when the bartender had deposited both, she pulled a coin out of her pocket. It was gold, and had tridents embossed on both sides. Even though she’d had it for years now, it hadn’t lost its shine. She brought the cup of water closer to her and flipped the coin over it, watching it twist in the air before falling into the water with a little ‘plonk’. She closed her eyes and whispered two names to herself, over and over and over. A crack of thunder shook through the diner, as if the storm was right overhead. She opened her eyes and stared into the glass of water as the door to the diner opened and someone walked in. The stool beside her was pulled out, and someone settled onto it with a slight creak. The sleeve of their shirt brushed against hers and the smell of salty sea air suddenly seemed to waft around her. She closed her eyes and whispered one of the names again, but nothing changed. Tears pricked at her eyes again, and she stared ahead of her, unable, unwilling, to look at the man that had settled down beside her.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek.

“No, it isn’t,” he replied quietly, his gruff voice comforting and painful at the same time.

“And I am failing.” She clenched her hands around the cup of water at the uncomfortable truth of it all. More tears slipped out of her eyes now, easier than the first.

“No, you’re not,” he answered instantly, and still neither of them looked at each other. For all anyone knew, they were strangers sitting beside each other at a bar. Sally closed her eyes and gulped, her eyes fluttering open as breathing became just that little more painful as she tried to keep a handle on herself.

“I’m going to take him to camp,” she told him, releasing her grip around the glass of water and pushing it forward slightly.

“Are you sure?” He asked simply, as if it was a casual decision, but she could still hear the gravity in the statement.

“What choice do I have?” She whispered, “he and I living together in the city…” she paused, taking in a deep breath, “it’s starting to attract attention from your world.” He didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips together and stared at the floor behind the bar with an intensity that would make it crack if he truly wanted it to. “A winged horse followed him to school.” She let the statement settle into the air. “It saw him, he saw it. Sooner or later it’s not gonna be just pretty things that are following him,” she breathed out, shaking her head slightly and looking up to the ceiling as the tears pushed from her eyes again.

It was so painful to sit here, mere steps from Percy, with the father he couldn’t meet. It was so painful, knowing that soon she would have to let him go, to let him fight his own battles. It was so painful knowing that there were forces much bigger than her little self, controlling everything, and making life so difficult for the beautiful little boy sitting just over there.

“At camp, he will be safe,” she nodded to herself, taking a sharp breath in and staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself that this was the best idea.

“You don’t want him at camp,” he answered simply, as if he could look into her mind and see everything that she was thinking, as if he could look directly at her heart and see the immense amount of love she felt for that child.

“No,” she breathed out painfully, “no, I don’t,” and she almost began crying with the words, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head.

“Tell me why,” he stated as he stared down at the wood of the bar but his attention was fully on her.

“You don’t wanna know why,” she scoffed lightly, shaking her head and looking to the ceiling again. Then she smiled, a rueful, exasperated little smile as he let out a huff of a chuckle.

“Probably not. But you have no one to say it to, and maybe that’s the most unfair part of it.” He paused, just for a moment, but her heart began to feel a little lighter somehow. “You say it, and I will listen.” They were silent, sitting together and listening to the quiet sounds of the bar, the clinking of spoons and glasses and plates, the rush of water inside the dishwasher.

“I want him to know who he is, before your worlds try to tell him who they want him to be,” her voice was forceful, verging on spiteful. “He is better than that, he has better things in him than that.” She was full of conviction, this was a truth she knew better than anything else in the world. Poseidon continued staring at the bar as he spoke.

“Then you have your answer. He’s going to go to school, and he’s going to learn things you can’t teach him there, and it’s going to be hard for the both of you. And it’s going to be torture for the both of you. But he will be stronger for it on the other side. His aunt raised him well.” And her tears flowed again, as if something in her chest released but brought with it a stabbing pain of everything that could not be.

“Do you wanna talk to him?” She asked through tears, hoping against all hope that he would say yes. “I know you shouldn’t,” she began, trying to convince him somehow. “Maybe just hear his voice,” she whispered, but there was another crack of thunder in the sky, and Poseidon turned away, listening as if he could hear things she could not.

“One day,” he simply whispered, and when she looked up to finally meet his eyes, to finally look at him again after so many years, no one was sitting there.

She sat at the bar for another few minutes, staring into the glass of water as if it had all the answers, but not one reason floated up for the absence of the boy’s mother.

For thirteen years, you watched your son’s life in snippets. It was like a faulty connection on a tv, darkness one moment, then a flash of Percy smiling as he opened the new mystery present that had been left at his door. A moment of beauty and excitement as you watched him uncover pieces of the world that you and his father had created, the world that led to his being. Then darkness once more, a year of knowing nothing about his life no matter how hard you tried, then Percy crying in Sally’s arms, sobbing about his latest struggles at school, and a pain so sharp in your heart that you almost abandoned secrecy to go to him, then darkness again. You didn’t know why it was like this. Why you didn’t get to watch over him as you so hoped before he was born, why even a distant relationship was stolen from you. You spent days climbing over the roots of Yggdrasil, peering into different worlds and hoping to see Percy living his life. Even if you found a branch that looked into Midgard, you saw only the mountains, with little dots of people climbing up them that left you amused for a moment, or boats on the ocean that made your heart ache desperately for your husband.

But you didn’t question it much either. Maybe it was his position between the two worlds of gods, the magic of the Fates and the Norns interfering with your powers, the mist cloaking him better than you had hoped.

You continued with your life as it had been long before you knew of the existence of the Greek Pantheon. You filled your position as a good goddess should, protecting the people from threats bigger than them, refusing to interfere with the machinations of demigods and their quests. You had no way of knowing that this obstruction of your view was unnatural. How would you know that someone else’s designs were at play here? How could you possibly know that your own father was stopping you from hearing the desperate prayers meant for you, the pleas of your dear friend when she felt she could not cope?

As you sat there beside Odin at the feast table, looking up to your father with reverence as he smiled cheerfully down at you, how were you to know he was actively hiding your son from you?

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord, @turtleshavesoulmates, @wolfgirl294, @stanswifties, @mrsinclaire, @homanoid, @bellamysnatblida

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crystaljellie · 6 months

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I honestly think that there are so many interesting songs that fit the life series characters so well, so I’m going to talk about them here and explain why I associate them with these songs!

Bdubs - Never love an anchor by the crane wives

"With this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful" | It's guilty because Bdubs feels bad, he feels bad he couldn't achieve what he should. He feels bad that he killed Impulse in third life, betrayed him, and even then it got him nothing. He's guilty because he knows the harm he's caused

"There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would burry you if it had settled on your shoulders" | I notice that Bdubs has a lot of trust and faith in his companies, something about this brings back the 'He loves me' scene from last life back. Bdubs loves a lot more than people seem to think he does, so he must hold it back in case of that love being used against him

"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel" | Maybe things that Bdubs wants to be, for the sake of letting go and letting himself detach from these people so losing them doesn't hurt as much. Letting other people label him as such

BigB - Know How by the Crane wives

"I am not brave; I keep my focus on what is safe," | I think this is fitting to BigB even if it's not necessarily true; I think from his perspective how he feels, ignoring how he is actually very brave. But at the same time he does keep his focus on what is safe, there's a reason why he always makes it to the final or session before the final.

"Just because I know what I'm supposed to do now, doesn't mean I know how" (Edited line to be shorter) | I'm not sure how to explain this but I do think it really fits him, he knows all the things he's meant to do, to survive, for example killing with the boogeymancurse, but he dragged it out till the very very end before he killed Cleo in last life, because he didn't know how he was supposed to do it.

Etho - I don’t know anyone I am by Salvia Palth

"I don't know anyone, I am in relation to anyone I guess" | Etho has always been seen as a loner throughout all seasons, he doesn't very much get the time to make meaningful bonds or understand his teammates. It makes sense he would struggle to see himself as more than just a survivor as well, he hasn't given himself the time to focus on anything else.

Scar - Icicles by The Scary Jokes

"Their shallow observations will only stall the transformation" | This is very secret life scar to me, maybe something something the watchers talking to him, everyone forcing the title of villain onto him, yet the watchers see him as a gift to them, as a victor and they're trying to make sure Scar keeps doing what he has been and not back out because they're calling him 'villain'

"But I admit it would be easier, To be relieved of all this shame and not have to wear it on my sleeve." | This fits Scar's feelings on the matter, not wanting to go forward, not wanting to be shamed and outcast by the rest of the lifers.

"I can only be forgiven if I'm giving myself up to you" | Secret life in general but also back in 3rd life, Scar believing he can only make up for killing Grian at the end by having Grian kill him, something something 'slay me and take the enchanter'

"My world has turned so cold, but I won't cry, 'cause icicles don't soften when they die so why should I" | Despite Scar being constantly alone, he stayed strong he never 'softened' or cried he also became cold which is why he won.

Grian - Bird Song by Florence + The Machine

"And he sang about what I'd become" | How Grian had slowly lost his mind in third life as well as all the other games, how Grian had became someone obsessed with getting kills, going out of his way to trick and trap people and find loopholes to kill

"I picked up the bird and above the den I said 'That's the last song you'll ever sing" | Grian doesn't want to think that he might be a bad person, or he might be going crazy, so he has to silence anyone saying otherwise, anyone that might prove a danger to him. Maybe because he can't let the watchers get word that he's exactly who they say he his. Maybe even so this is relating to the theory that he might have been the one to curse Jimmy.

Impulse - A Mask of My Own Face by Nature Tapes

Okay now hear me out on this one, Impulse is constantly in and out of alliances especially in third life, lying to everyone to gain vantage.

"And none of them would know that I am secretly myself" | Because they trust that Impulse is putting on a facade all the time, but maybe what they are missing is that the facade is what he considers to be him. Or at the very least keeps him safer

"I'd blame it on the person that nobody knows I am" | Something about him always being like 'Oh I did this so they'd trust me more I'm still on your side I promise' Or 'I did this for the task!' When he could have absolutely targeted anyone else.

Martyn - Metaphors by The Crane wives

"I've gotten good at living on someone elses page" | It's the way Martyn is always deceiving and always planning to betray, living on someone else's page, being content and loyal until he has the chance not to be.

"You can't trust a single thing I say" | Idk something about him talking about how he was planning to betray Ren in third life.

"Don't look too hard cause you won't like the scars he left in me" | THIS BEING SO TREEBARK LISTEN TO ME. HE GAVE UP SO MUCH TO REN THERE ARE SO MANY SCARS CAUSED BY FOLLOWING THE ORDERS TO KILL SOMEONE YOU LOVE

Lizzie - The Crooked the Cradle by The crane wives

"There's blood in the water" | Thinking about Lizzie showing up in limited life to play Pearl and the first thing she was tasked with is killing. Like she showed up and instantly was given the title of boogeyman, a gimmick that was only there in the one other season she was in, a sense of familiarity and a sense of dread.

"The quiet are restless the silent are still" | When there is peace on the server and it is quiet there are people waiting to kill. When it is silent it is because all is dead. And Lizzie knows that well being quick to die each time, she is the silent, especially when she fell into the void, she died alone and in scilence.

"If Mercy's abound I'll be safe I'll be sound, and the devil won't know of the love I just couldn't let go" | Something about Joel being the cause of her death In Secret life... loved him so much she went down for him, she couldn't let it go and it got her killed.

"Can anyone hear me?" | Her in the void not being able to be heard....

Mumbo - Saint Bernard by Lincoln

"To remind me that I am a fool" | I am very strongly of the headcanon that Mumbo is also a watcher, something something he needs to remind himself that he is fooling himself into thinking he could fit in with the world of the watchers or the world of the players

"When I am dead I won't join their ranks because they are both holy and free" | And Mumbo's not, Mumbo doesn't get to go where they go, he still has more to do, more to make up for. Still instructions left to follow

"There's really just one thing that we have in common, neither of us will be missed" This is so Mumbo talking to Grian coded for me

Pearl - Here I am by the Crane wives

"How long have I been here all alone" Double life Pearl in her tower....

"Settled in, had a plan but I never factored in, Everyone else saying goodbye" | Basically also double life Pearl she had a plan with Martyn go to the nether get stuff come back find her soulbound, and then they all left her.

"This ghost town is making a ghost of me" | Everyone dying around her, and being alone like this without chance of redemption slowly killing her.

"I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves" | Throughout the next games, like secret life, she'd be the one who leaves instead of gets left behind, but she didn't seeing how she was always last one alive out of her teammates

Skizz - Wrecking ball by mother mother

"I made a fist and not a plan" | Skizz is usually quite reckless and goes action first plan second.

"You gotta see the artistry In tearing the place apart with me, baby" | This but more in the ironic sense, because Skizz while he wants to reign chaos he is also fiercely loyal and kind to his allies, so tearing the place apart with me, is important. He doesn't just want to cause chaos he wants connections

Scott - Icarus

"Climb ye higher and higher and higher 'Til you're far away and breathing cleaner air" | Scott winning last life, climbing higher and higher through the ranks until he breaks through the clouds into what he had hoped was cleaner air spoiler alert it’s not.

"Who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here?" | What’s happened to you, what happened in last life that changed you, what made you so cold and bitter and so quick to assume the worst when double life came

"Spreading out the ashes of a love That only gave and gave" | Either this as flower husbands, being the ashes of a love that only gave to others, or specifically Scott’s love, that only gave and gave to the one whom he loved

"There's no room for all the hearts who will not stay" | For the people who will not stay with him, the watchers pressuring him to do better and leave the, behind. He won’t though.

Joel - The Wolf by the crane wives

"I will join the wolf at my door Breathing out storms when she comes around" | Well yes we know Joel is a dog boy clearly, but also how he is oh so aggressive to everyone he meets, ferocious and knocking things down.

"I am always burning, burning, burning" | Burning with rage? Burning things down? So many emotions they're lighting up his world so much that it blinds him from seeing anything else

Jimmy - Hollow Moon By the crane wives

"In the darkness, Slowly crawling over my skin, Whispers at the door, "let us in, let us in" | Whispers of the watchers, or maybe his curse, something knocking to let death in.

"I won't be sleeping, There's too many monsters in the backyard" | Okay yes funny because of Minecraft mechanics. But also, idk something about Jimmy not being able to see the watchers but still feeling their presence.

(I'm giving Jimmy an extra song because he's special)

Strawberry blond by Mitski

"I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached" | YES I AM BACK ON MY FLOWER HUSBANDS BULLSHIT! Trust me so much they're so insanely in love, they love the world because they love each other, their relationship is so sweet and soft.

"All I need, darlin', is a life in your shape I picture it, soft, and I ache" | because all they ever needed was each other, not the death not the violence, just to be in love

Tango - Monster by Dodie

"I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain" | Tango's anger and wondering if those reactions made others see less in him. Make him a monster

"You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead" | Idk... something about this and Tango, he always dies relatively early too, maybe it's only death that'll comfort him

Cleo - The Garden by The Crane Wives

"My stone, My shield, my steady hand, Hold your light To the darkness in my head" | Something about this being about how Scott has been her friend and ally throughout all seasons

"Give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes" | I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BUT THIS IS LIMITED LIFE CLETHO, DOES ANYONE HEAR ME PLEASE TRUST

"My darling, the devil knows my name" | Cleo makes a name known for herself by fighting, making a point with their sword

"Get on your knees and, Dig up the garden, Won't you throw down that spade and, Dig up the garden, darling?" | Something something a wife talking to her husband

Ren - Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

"I died in your arms tonight" | Martyn killing Ren in 3rd life....

"I lost sight in your arms tonight, it was nice" | Lost sight of the goal so obsessed with his kingdom and the Red army

"I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive" | Martyn out living him (Not by very long) In third life

Gem - The Well by the Crane Wives

"All the words I couldn't say to you Fill up the spaces in my chest" | This being Shiny Duo and Gem and pearl being on different sides unsure of how to stay together

"Send me anywhere, take me out I'm the well they're gonna drag you down" | Gem knowing she's only going to be used as a catalyst to hurt others despite her wants

"That old house, those rotting memories Burned easier than I'd have thought" | Those short memories of limited life being replaced by the nicer memories of at least the first half of secret life

And I am done yapping, mayhaps I will do more someday

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byslantedlight · 4 months

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Hello OFMD Tumblr thingie, and all the amazing people who are out there, and especially the ones who've been making all the posts that have made me so happy over the last few months. 💖💖💖 First and most importantly, thank you, thank you, thank you, to anyone who sees this!

This is my first post to Tumblr (probably pretty obvious from my huge lack of Tumblr sophistication! And the length of this post...) If you don't count reblogging things that I wanted to be able to find again. I've braved up to comment thank you to people a couple of times, but that's been it so far. I must admit it all looks a bit scary from this side of the glass, even though I can also see how friendly people mostly are.

But OFMD fandom is big! And you've been here a long time! I loved Series 1 when I watched it, and knew I wanted to watch out for Series 2, but it wasn't until I re-watched it when the Series 2 trailer came out on BBC iPlayer that I fell veeeery in love with it! And by then you were already here, and there was a language and debates about things I'd barely even noticed, and it's mostly me staring with big eyes thinking wow, and sometimes huh? and... well, you know. Plus there's trying to work out Tumblr, which I definitely haven't actually managed to do yet, and possibly never will, so... I decided to just jump in and post summat. Even just rambling, which is a bit of a specialty of mine... I mean - what's the worst that can happen, right? 😬

So... how come now? Well, I can't make art or gorgeous screenshots or gifs. I do write, but I'm still hanging out to get the right voices in my keyboard... I know them when I hear them, but you've gotta get the right rhythm going, and I'm not quite there yet, I don't think. Although really, I should probably just sit down and try (and stop waiting for work to shut up and give me time - I should be a pirate and take it!)

Anyway (told you about the rambling...) what I'm mostly doing apart from rewatching the eps on a constant loop is reading the fic. I'm picking it according to kudos on AO3, and according to recs that I see on Tumblr, and it's occured to me that alot of the stories I'm loving must have been recced looong ago, and that newbies like me totally missed them, and so maybe I could do my own recs, even if they are of older stories, and someone might find them useful. You know, if I work out how anyone else might ever see my posts. 😁 And if people aren't put off by my probably age-revealing use of emojis. (But I am entirely age-appropriate for Ed and Stede, and if I had to look up what zaddy meant too, well, that just means I matched Rhys Darby's expression in the bts, right? 🤨)

So it's not much, but I'd like to contribute even just a tiny bit to OFMD fandom in return for everything it gives me, so... yeah. That's my plan. I'll start in a bit, but this post is probably already too long since it's just rambling. And kind of dull. I should probably have said tl:dr at the top, shouldn't I, but then maybe anyone who actually saw this wouldn't, so... See, I kind of live in hope. 😊

Okay. Tags next, right? ... ack ... why won't it let me create new tags instead of just using ones from the drop down...? Well, those will have to do for now... maybe someone who sees this will have mercy and tell me how? I'll just be over here being a slight failure at Tumblr... And if you've made it this far (how long is an acceptable post over here?! Not this long, I don't think...) - thank you hugely for just that, and may your dreams be OFMD and joyous!

#ofmd #ofmd fanfic

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mcflymemes · 2 years

Text

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS * collection #6

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

you look like hell.

i tried to warn you.

it's hard to let you go.

i can't sleep without you.

this life is still worth living.

was it good for you?

when will our eyes meet?

i threw it out the window.

i get by, but i'm tired of myself.

so many things were left unsaid.

i want to spend my life with you.

you seem very well.

i'm much too young to die.

i told you not to get lost in the wild.

you're tired of me.

in my mind, you're mine forever.

if you're leaving, i gotta know why.

come on over. i'll adore you.

put on the dress you wore the night we met.

i had to close down my mind.

they'll never understand.

i told you i could never love somebody else, but i lied.

did you ever like it then?

i will never be set free.

darkness brings evil things.

it's out of my control.

i know what it takes to move on.

they're dead wrong. i know they are.

i'm a shoulder you can cry on.

am i not the one you're dreaming of?

i told you i'd be coming back again for you, but i'm not.

every word that i say is coming straight from the heart.

there's so much love we could be making.

yeah, i'm drinking again.

don't laugh. you'll make me cry.

i've got something to say.

when can i touch you?

you smell like death.

i never thought i could act this way.

take me back to the night we met.

just wait until i catch my breath.

you can run but you can't escape.

go on, baby. hurt me tonight.

shut the door, baby. don't say a word.

i can't forget this evening.

i am coming for you.

i'm here just waiting for you.

you've got holes in your clothes.

what the hell am i supposed to do?

i had a vision tonight that the world was ending.

i would stand in line for this.

i don't even know who i was last night.

i'm not trying to be your hero.

what if the world dies with the sunrise?

just you wait and see. believe me.

anything you want. any place you want.

people love it when you lose.

i didn't have much to say.

i'm leaving this place behind.

if you ever get lonely, please let me know.

now it's only fair that i should let you know.

how i hate to see you like this.

i know how it feels to lie.

you make me feel so brand new.

i hate to bug you in the middle of dinner.

i wish nothing but the best for you both.

every time you try to fix me, i know you'll never find that missing piece.

there is no way you can deny it.

those days are through.

it's a lovely day today.

you don't want to know how far it's gone.

soon i will be free.

i can't live if living is without you.

this is not what i had planned.

all we need is a little time.

this is not the end.

put your arms around me.

things look peaceful.

you changed the game.

this was never meant to last.

i know it's crazy, but it's true.

can you feel it?

i feel brave and daring.

i had to close down everything.

i'm so in love with you.

won't you believe me?

wish i had the strength to stand.

when will this strong yearning end?

they say i won't last too long on broadway.

show me where you've been.

you were always sure of yourself.

i thought it felt right.

after last night, i think i'm in love with you.

i can't forget your face as you were leaving.

the best that you can do is fall in love.

i lost friends along the way.

there are rules.

the hardest part of ending is starting again.

when will i hold you again?

if you ever want to see my face again, i want to know.

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citadelofmythoughts · 29 days

Note

Ooh I am down for the evil scenario asks:

Rusted Knight Yang Au where the fruit sent her back centuries, Yang leaving letters for everyone in case they ever get found (but she assumes they won’t be)

I hope you're happy with yourself. I literally cried writing this, lol

“Oh no…gods…no.” I cried as I knelt in front of the tomb. When we asked Little if they had seen anyone meeting Yang’s description this was the last thing we expected to see.

It was a simple stone structure but the symbol carved on the door and the statue of a powerfully built woman with long flowing hair could only be one person.

“I don’t know a lot of stories, since I’m still young.” said the small voice of Little. “But we all know the story of the Golden Knight. She was a great hero who protected everyone who lived in the Ever After.”

Ruby sobbed as she touched the statue. “She was my sister…and now she’s gone!!”

Seemingly in response to Ruby’s touch the door to the sepulcher opened with a groan of unused hinges.

“This place…is ancient.” Jaune muttered. “How?”

“I don’t know, but…it seems we’re being invited.” I said, trying to be brave. I look Ruby’s hand and we walked inside.

In the center was a stone casket with a relief on top that was nearly identical to the statue outside. I knew…she was there. My heart, my soul, dead for what was probably centuries.

We looked around, it was simple and unadorned. Fitting for a woman who put no value in things, only people. Then I noticed my emblem on the wall, along with Ruby and Weiss’

“What do we do?” asked Weiss in a whisper. “Seems like they’re there for a reason.”

I approached mine and gently traced the carving with my finger. I could almost feel the emotions of the woman who must have carved it. In response the symbol lit up and it extended a few inches revealing a sheet of paper inside.

I saw Yang’s unmistakable handwriting on the yellowed paper. “My dearest Blake.”

Both Weiss and Ruby repeated my actions and were both rewarded with letters of their own. I walked outside, needing to be alone with the last words I’d ever read from the girl who meant the universe to me.

“My dearest Blake,

I don’t know if you will ever read this, you all probably think I’m dead and have no reason whatsoever to believe that I wound up..here. Before you go blaming yourself, there is no way you could have known.

When I landed, I was dazed and wandered from the beach into a forest with trees bearing very strange fruit. I didn’t realize until it was too late that the fruit, if mishandled could send a person back in time. So there I was, marooned in both time and space. I tried to make the best of things. I found beings here who needed my help and it was companionship of a sort but they could never replace Weiss or Ruby and especially not you.

Gods, I was such an idiot. I wasted so much time that I could have spent loving you. I wish I could say that I died with no regrets but not ever telling you how much I loved you, how much I DO love you is the biggest one of my life.

I’d give anything to be able to do it all over again and be with you.

I love you Blake, I will love you until the end of time.

Forever yours,

Yang.”

I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than losing her, then I lost her again, and now it was forever.

“Yang..” I sobbed as I clutched the letter to my chest. “I love you, I need you…and I can’t live without you!”

Then I was seized with a mad hope and I raced back to the others. Ruby and Weiss looked despondent, especially Ruby and she looked up at me as I approached. “I’m sorry, Blake.” she said as she hugged me. “Yang…told me.”

I hugged her back and did the same for Weiss.Then I addressed the small mouse on Ruby’s shoulder. “Little, do you know anything about a forest with fruit trees that can send someone through time?”

The tiny creature blinked. “The Forest Primeval. It’s a bad, dangerous place.”

“Can you tell me how to get there?”

“Blake! What are you thinking?” Ruby blurted. “You can’t!”

“I have to Ruby! She’s there, on the other side of time, waiting for me!”

“You have no idea how those…fruits work!” Weiss added. “You could wind up anywhen!”

“I’ll figure it out!” I yelled. “If there’s even the slightest chance of seeing her again, I have to!”

“Then we’ll go with you.” said Ruby.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “No, Ruby. There’s a world that needs saving and it needs you to do it. If…if there’s a way for us to get back, you’ll see us again.”

“Blake I…” and Ruby wiped her tears away. “When you see Yang. Tell her I love her.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Little gave me general directions and I sprinted off after saying my goodbyes to Jaune and Weiss. It took a few days to reach the forest. It was near the coastline and at first glance the trees looked like the coconut trees that flourished in Menagerie but no fruit on Remnant had tiny clock faces on them.

“If Yang wandered in here then it stands to reason that if I’m careful and slowly adjust one of the fruits….” and I carefully turned the dial of one of them backwards. The twin suns raced across the sky and then the moon. It took longer than you’d think time travel should but I didn’t want to miss my window.

Then in an instant I saw a flash of yellow and a glint of a golden arm and stopped the clock.

Yang looked up at me in shock. “Blake? You..you’re not supposed to be here.”

I ran into her arms. “There is nowhere I belong more.”

#bumbleby #rwby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna

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cupidspup · 3 months

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I had an anonymous person ask me some questions about pacifiers, how to get then discreetly and stuff so here's my answer!! :D

Hi! Firstly I wanna say I really admire you asking around for advice and good job for that it's very brave! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ I'd like to say that we as the agere community are very focused on educating others but are also known to take care of others in the community and it makes me so happy that you trust me to help educate you! And to everyone who sees this yes, I am more than willing to answer any questions you may have :> this is my personal blog and safe space but I love chatting and I love helping others too! (Just know if it's advice or questions I'll answer when I do have energy :3) As a person whos nuerodivergent and has social/general anxiety i know it can be really hard and scary to do things! anywho! I'm real happy you asked and I'm happy to answer!

Yes, I do use a pacifier! I actually have a little collection if anyone ever wants to see hehehe૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა anywho! Yes it is genuinely comforting and soothing to me! I usually regress between the ages of 0-6 but usually I'm very very small. I also tend to want a reason to be quiet and just use my random noises when im small too! It also makes me feel better about myself and my self esteem! I think I look cute with it and since I live with my partner/cg/little he thinks it's cute too ૮(˶˃ᆺ˂˶) The feeling of it generally feels full if that makes any sense? Everyone uses pacifiers for their own reasons but these are mine! If you're more of a chewer I definitely recommend getting a teething ring especially the ones with water in it (please be careful!!) It's a lil difficult to puncture a pacifier but not impossible either!

Still relating to pacifiers from above ^ please don't ever let anyone shame you out of having a pacifier or a teething ring or anything really, it hurts to know you have been ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა if it soothes you and isn't a problem to anyone else then there's absolutely nothing wrong with it and at the end of the day, it's your regression not anyone else's. You don't owe anyone anything ever (of course basic mutual respect but still you know what I mean-) pacifiers and teething rings and such are all your choice! Never let that become someone else's choices for you!!

As for obtaining one!! A lot of places on instagram offer discreet packaging! I can recommend my favorite places to buy if you guys ever want recommendations!! But anywho!! When I was a minor living in an unsafe home I did one of two things: given the money to a trusted person and had them send it to their house or another person's house that I trusted OR bought it and sent it to a safe person's house! Of course I told the person what I was doing and I did it with their permission!! They would give it to me when we saw each other :3 please do not use pacifiers meant for real biological babies though!! They will hurt and possibly damage your teeth! If you do ever resort to that (which is highly not recommended) please use it very minimally, do not fall asleep with it and only use it for absolute emergencies. Same goes for other little gear such as sippy cups!

If you don't have a safe person you can tell and have some sort of situation worked out with them I am very very sorry and there isn't much I can do to help :< but!! What I can do is tell you what I did before I had any little gear! I would typically suck on the knuckle of my index finger! Just yknow, curl my finger and suck on that! Of course please don't do that too hard or bite it was only something to soothe and keep myself satisfied for the meantime! :]

That is all I can say for now! I hope everything I said cleared up stuff for you and I hope you can get into a better household soon!! I know it can be hard but know that your regression is a sacred thing, protect it and share it with people you trust 🩷 that I'd the best advice I can give you as an adult regressor (who has many regrets 💀)

With that said!

You are loved and you are cared for, you're always welcome on my blog :]

𓂋

- ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ Kewpie

#agere #age regression #age regressor #agere blog #agere community #sfw regression #age dreaming #sfw agere #agere caregiver #pet regression #agere textpost

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mountttmase · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

- . - Loz - London - Mason Mount enthusiast - . -

Requests are open so please feel free to send anything in, I’ll try and get to them when I can or if you just want a chat that’s fine by me 💚

Fics are below ⬇️

Smut

An Unexpected Visitor

An Early Christmas Gift

A Deal’s A Deal

Morning Glow

I Won’t Tell If You Don’t

Let Me Try Again

Don’t fight it

Blueberries

Am I Doing It Right?

You Drive Me Insane

Don’t Do This

Show Me How

Seeing Stars

Smutty blurb

Not Yours

Every Second Of Everyday

Someone You Can Trust

Fluff

Under The Weather

You Make Me Nervous

A Little Miracle

Three Little Words

You’re Playing Dirty

Where I’m Supposed To Be

Cherry Earrings

You know I’ll always be here

Ships In The Night

Five Minutes

Angst

Cold Hands Cold Heart

A Night To Forget

Worth A Shot

Until I Found You

I’m Yours

The Mixup

Lost And Found

Be Bad For Once

Are We Okay?

Damage Is Done

My Priority

Where You Belong

If I Lost You

What I Need

I Bet You Miss Her

Catch You

Dad Mase

See You Soon

My Everything

Play The Game

Don’t Get Caught

Mummy’s Got One Growing Too

In Awe Of You

I’ll Fix This

Always There

Safe Place

Still Be Mine

Not Your Fault

Blurbs

I’ll Keep You Safe

Happy For You

Little Bean

Sweetheart

Tell Me Now

Number One Fan

Insta AU’s

George’s First Easter

MTC: Get Hitched

The Babies Turn One

Multi Part

The Do-Over - Part One Part Two & Part Three

A Little Problem - Part One & Part Two

Brave - Part One & Part Two

MTC Christmas - Part One & Part Two

Baby Thea - Home Is Where The Heart Is & Always Meant To Be

Like Magnets & The Way You Love Me

Series

A Mountain To Climb

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Winter Sun

Change Of Heart

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rockingrobin69 · 1 year

Text

Seriously, though

“Here,” with a giant heave, “just a little—c’mon, Potter,” pulling the arm slung around Draco’s shoulder tighter. “It’s just a bit further, you twat.”

Potter’s smile was smeared all across his face, unbearable at such a close distance. “You’re so strong,” he said, twattily. Draco resisted the urge to push him off.

“You’re making it so much harder than,” short on breath for laughing. “Come on, you big lug. There’s a warm bed waiting for you just the other side of this corridor.”

“How do you know it’s warm?” Potter asked. “Did you try it?”

“Of course. Nothing but the best at Chez Malfoy. See, if you were a normal house guest and not a silly goose—”

“Am not a goose,” indignantly. “Silly, maybe.”

Draco stopped them both halfway through the corridor. “Maybe?”

“Maybe. I’ll give you somewhat silly, on occasion.”

Eyebrow hiking: “On occasion.”

“And only somewhat.”

This grin-thing his face was trying to pull was achey around the corners. “You mean,” Draco said, “that cursing yourself with jelly-legs and getting your own flat flooded with patchouli was not an entirely silly thing to do. Only somewhat silly.”

“Certainly an occasion,” Potter said, and his eyes sparkled. “Thanks for having me, by the way.”

“Oh, sure. What else could one do when the Chosen Git wakes them up in the middle of the night in uproarious fits of laughter? It’s no problem, I mean,” when the smile on Potter’s face dimmed. “I’m happy to have you here. As long as you need.”

They both swallowed at the same time. It was quiet, middle of the night, just them here. Holding each other and standing very close. In his house coat, and his red-red cheeks, Draco felt miserably naked, too obvious.

Then Potter’s legs started twitching again, and he started laughing, again, this helpless, raw sound, and Draco was helpless too. To it, to him. With his shoulders and colourful socks and the strands of his hair that kept catching his eye.

“Here,” Draco realised he was saying, only after he brushed a few of those away. Gulped loudly. “Let’s—come on, let’s get you to that blasted bedroom.”

Potter echoed his swallow. His nervousness, for some reason. “What’s that door over there?” pointing at the nearest one.

“That one’s mine.”

“Oh.” Sucking in his bottom lip in a truly unfair display. “What if,” he started, shook his head, nodded, “wouldn’t it be easier if—”

“I’m not giving you my bed,” Draco heard himself say with pure shock, instead of, for example, “yes, of course, anything you’d like, forever actually.”

“I’m not asking you to, git. I meant, maybe we could share.”

“Share…” comprehension, rather than dawning, sank. “Share my bed?”

“God, you can be so thick,” and why did Potter sound fond? “Had to curse my own legs and still you continue to—”

“I’m the thick one, when you cursed your—wait, what?”

“Will you just,” laughing, “Malfoy, shut up, for the love of god, and take me to bed already?”

His heart splattered against his ribcage. “Take you to bed. Yes, I can do that.”

To the… guestroom, right? That’s what they were talking about.

“Malfoy,” again in that inexplicable tone, the one that went soft and low instead of—instead—“I was serious. About sharing. I’ve been serious about if for quite some time.”

The heat in his cheeks and the frenzy in his chest: “Yes?” meaning, really? Meaning, me?

“Yes.”

Melting a little, “It is closer. My bed, I mean. And, the sheets are clean.”

“Always prepared at Chez Malfoy.”

“Shut up, you absolute goose.” Nearly brave enough for a smile, tilting his head towards his room. Bursting when Potter, eyes twinkling, nodded.

He was taking the silly goose to bed. How… fortunate, really, that he opened the door. That Potter’s legs were still dancing, that the other, nearer guestroom for some reason didn’t come to mind. That Potter was serious, he said, had been for a while now, and that Draco was too, entirely too serious for him. Almost too serious to laugh when Potter’s right foot sent in a truly spectacular jig: almost.

They laughed together. Twats. Even the bedroom door laughed with them as it closed. Then the hinges of the bed as they gingerly climbed on. Then the birds in the morning, when they woke up, still holding each other’s hand.

(Hi, so, I might be doing a bit of flufftober? Grab a link to AO3 if you want to keep up with the sporadic posting schedule. Love and soft to us all).

Freely Given and Entirely True - Robin's 2023 flufftober collection

#drarry fic #not a round number of words!#this year: no self-imposed rules. nothing harsh. just flow #oh oh the fic! tags about the fic! right;#mutual pining and they're idiots #nothing happens and in the end they share a bed #and hold hands #very soft and very very silly.#flufftober2023 #prompt: “I've got you”#why am i obsessed with silly geese. literally cannot stop writing them #rockingrobin69

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aidanxsophxoxo · 2 months

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Sebastian sallow x my oc Soffi

“I know you’ve been avoiding me.” A voice fills the space of the small balcony. Soffi froze upon hearing his voice, she had done well to avoid him and now she was caught.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Sebastian questioned moving forward, getting closer to the edge. Soffi slowly turned and met his gaze as he moved forward.

“S-Sebastian-I-I was just-studying the stars! T-totally wasn’t avoiding you!” Soffi lied right to his face, hiding one hand behind her back, Sebastian noticed this as he stopped right in front of her.

“You know you’re a terrible liar right?” His comment made him grin to himself, how she tried to play off why she was avoiding him. “I-I-…o-ok I was avoiding you…” Soffi admitted with a frown.

“And why? You’ve never acted like this before.” Sebastian enquires. “You’ve been seen with ominous and yet you avoid me? Please explain why.” Soffi stares at him not sure how to answer and frantically is scared to admit why she has been avoiding him.

“Well-t-the truth is…s-somethings have came back…and..” Soffi stops and turns looking out to the distance her arms laying on the ledge. “My nightmares…a-and…my curse has been affecting me, that’s why I was avoiding you. So I wouldn’t hurt you.” She holds out her hand turning it and shows the dark red veins flowing down her arm.

Sebastian couldn’t register what she meant. A curse? How did she of all people get cursed. First his sister now her. It brought fear to him as he came closer, softly taking her hand in his as he examined the red veins as they pulsed with each second passing.

“How did this happen? How long?” Sebastian didn’t want to pressure her but he worried for her, the one he’s closest to could be taken from him without him knowing.

“I did…s-something stupid…when I was young.” Soffi pulled her hand back and held it herself. “My brother and I. We used to explore all the time, even when our parents said no. I-I followed him everywhere…he was so confident…and ambitious.” A soft sigh leaves her soft cherry lips. “One day we went into an abandoned mine and w-we got carried away and my brother knocked down..an heirloom that we didn’t know was precious until…”

Sebastian listened keeping an eye on her body movements as she tensed at certain parts of the story making him want to hold her, tell her it’s ok, but knows he should wait and listen.

“An old spirit came out angry and was threatening my brother with a curse…and before she could cast it on my brother…I stood in front of him and took the hit. The witch was never seen again…and I was cursed…” Her lips quiver as she composes herself. “Every-time I use magic…I have voices all around me whispering dark things…T-to me…to join..the dark side…if I don’t…I get stung really bad.” A tear strolls down her cheek.

Sebastian mouth was slightly open, in shock no matter, but he couldn’t fathom how she saved her brother. It was brave of her to do that but at this very moment he wished it wasn’t her. Sebastian pull her arms closer to his and hugged her, he felt her stiffen she hadn’t expected this but she returned the hug.

Soffi didn’t want to let go, he was warm and safe. She relaxes and lets the tears fall softly crying into his Slytherin robe. “You are so brave Soffi, protecting your brother. It almost reminds me, of Anne and me and how I would protect her.”

Sebastian rubs her back softly hearing her calm down with her crying. He pulls her back slightly and tilts her chin up with his finger. “Soffi. I mean what I said, you are so brave for doing that. Your brother would be proud of you.”

Soffi looks at him and nods, her tears filling her eyes again but she smiled. “I-i saves him…I-I’m happy I did. H-he made me who I am today.” Sebastian wiped a couple of tears away with his thumb, gently caressing her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t change who you are for the world sunshine.”

Sebastian held her close moving his forehead towards her as they shared a beautiful moment with a smile on each of their faces.

————————————

Had this idea and boom it came out 😂let me know what you think first time doing Sebastian sallow so let me kno if I did ok!

@blueboirick @gcthvile @jackiequick @missstrawbs2001 @wolfstar-being-ridikkulus

#writing #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy sebastian #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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dujour13 · 11 months

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Owlcatober 22. Nobility

“If it isn’t the Commander’s conman consort.” Daeran stood rod-stiff with both arms folded across his chest and his venom-green eyes flashing. “Honestly I’m not certain whether I’m more furious with you or with myself, to have been quite so easily hoodwinked.”

“Uh…” Woljif’s tail darted in time with his mind. Is this about that bottle of wine? The ruby cufflinks? The maps? The cut of the fake investment scheme? His eyes were wide with total innocence. “What about?”

“’Oh Count, I need a nice outfit to sit on the Knight-Commander’s council,’” Daeran mocked. “To sit on the Knight-Commander’s c—”

“Hold on, you’re mad about that?”

“I’m positively outraged!”

“But—” Woljif blinked. There were so many other things to be outraged-er about.

Daeran flipped a blond lock from his face. “That you didn’t confide in me! You could have told me it was a bid to seduce our brave and beloved bard.”

“You’re jokin’, right? You woulda laughed me outta town.”

“Touché. But I am nonetheless wounded.” Daeran stormed over to the drinks cabinet, poured himself a glass of wine and threw himself gracefully across a divan. “I’m taking credit, I’ll have you know. He did like the outfit, didn’t he?”

At the memory of Siavash’s eyes wandering down his chest – Is that a new shirt? It looks like silk – Woljif felt a flood of treacherous heat in his cheeks and pretended to search for something non-alcoholic among the Count’s bottles until it cooled down. “I guess.”

“You are so deeply in my debt you’ll require a potion of water-breathing.” It sounded like a threat. Daeran leaned forward on the divan, fixing him with a gaze of bright green shards. “Did he rip it from your trembling frame?”

“No!” Now it was Woljif’s turn to be outraged. “It cost a damn fortune.”

“Tsk. My dear Prince, you have so much to learn. Seductive apparel is meant to be ripped.”

“Really? When you got that much money, you just let people tear up your nice clothes?”

“I don’t let them, I enthusiastically encourage it! If any garment of mine did not simply cry out to be torn from my body I should be mortified.”

“Oh yeah?” It was purely academic interest that drew his gaze to Daeran’s ruffled powder-blue shirt, he would have sworn. This time Woljif didn’t catch the flush in time and had to feign a coughing fit.

“Please tell me you ripped his clothes at least,” Daeran said as soon as the fit passed.

Woljif narrowed his eyes, suspecting he was being mocked but grappling with certain doubts. Was that how you were supposed to do it? Had he messed up on some lovemaking ritual known only to the upper crust of society, and the chief was back there at the Citadel in his intact shirt feeling disappointed? Or was that just for toffs who rolled around in so much cash they didn’t know what to do with it except trash expensive stuff? Nah, more likely the Count was having a go.

He shrugged one shoulder and affected an air of confidence. “We weren’t in a rippin’ sorta mood.”

At that Daeran’s eyes lit up, though he sat very still as if to avoid scaring him off. “I see. What sort of mood was it, then? Shy, virginal probing? Frantic fumbling? And tell me, in the moment—la petite mort—is it chief? Knight-Commander? Or something soft, perhaps. Dove? Kitten?”

“I know what you’re doin’,” Woljif scoffed, moving toward the door. “And I ain’t that easy.”

“No. Stay right there or so help me. We are engaged in a game of riposte, you and I, and I believe I recall that you have made a solemn vow never to run away again.”

“Not to you.” But the Count was right about one thing. Woljif was desperate to tease from him the secrets of seduction, while he knew very well how dangerous Daeran could become when on the trail of entertainment, in this case apparently a play-by-play of his night with the chief.

“Yet you had best concoct some way to repay me or I promise you that you’ll regret it, my timorous tiefling.”

Woljif didn’t doubt he meant it. He stopped halfway to the door, calculating. Give a little, invite the obvious attack, and get the enemy to open up. “Fine. It was a romantic mood. Happy?”

Daeran certainly looked on the verge of happiness. “I’m afraid that’s too vague, my friend. Tender, trembling touches? Significant sighs? Longing looks?”

He made it sound like one of those dog-eared novels the chief kept on his nightstand, but in truth Woljif had to admit he kind of hit it on the head there, at least in some ways. He parried with “Is that so bad?”

“Oh, certainly not. Comically maudlin, but then what did I expect from Knight-Commander Butterflies?”

Despite the mockery, at the word “comically” Woljif’s brain went straight back to that night, to himself and Siavash tangled in the sheets together laughing until they cried, and it was too late to stop the huge, dopey grin that crept up and pounced on him.

“Aha.” Daeran pointed his wine glass and grinned triumphantly.

Woljif was going to have to concede defeat, but as he departed from the Count’s chambers he felt satisfied that while he’d learned little from the verbal sparring, he at least felt far surer that he hadn’t messed up with the chief. On the contrary. It might not have been the sophisticated clothes-rending dance of seduction the likes of Daeran and his dandies engaged in, but it suited him and the chief just fine. He could get everything he needed from those novels. Well, except maybe for more advice on rippable princely apparel.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #owlcatober 2023 #woljif jefto #siavash x woljif #daeran arendae #my writing #pwotr pals #woljif

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whatwouldvalerydo · 1 month

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The fires of love

In which Talbott, Felix and Akira (@cursebreakerfarrier) ponder on what it meant to love Talia.

I knew she would be trouble from the very moment she entered the Auror training camp. The faux fur of her coat carried with it the smells of the last attended school despite it being a year since graduation. Her steps were precise, hard and secure as if she had prepared for that moment her entire life. Wild eyes looked at everyone and nothing at the same time, as if she was better than anyone in that crowded, filthy room and she was above us in every sense.

Little did I know that she was returning to reclaim her place in a country that had shunned her.

She wielded a fake name as if she grew into it as years rolled by, her not faltering under the weight of her secrets. But everyone has a breaking point and she would break because of me.

And there would be blood and fire and ash. Hot crimson liquid flowing off her body and mine, the scent unmistakable, known without being known. Molten, hot embers would replace the cold stare in her eyes and she would scream and tear through anyone who would dare approach to harm her and me. And when all would settle, her words would turn to darkness on her tongue, bitter and heavy for she always knew she would return to a name that had been hers from the start.

All no matter how brave and strong she would become, she would falter and she would break further. And I would watch, through veils of time and space, seeing her when she could not see me and whisper her name hoping the wind would catch it and send it back to her. Just one time, one more time to see the recognition alive in her orbs, for her hair to bounce around her slender face as she searches for me even as I am no longer there.

For too much time has passed and she now walks on the edge of time and space, so close to me, yet too far.

Since the very moment I met her she was Talia, just that. No second name, not even jotted down on the letters she received. Just Talia was quiet, to an unnerving degree, still, as if her thin body was trying so hard not to make any sudden moves for fear of shaking lose whatever she still had inside of her to maintain her upright.

But there was power, raw power in her, untamed and mad and hungry. And I witnessed that force in all its glory. I thought the dragons we took care of were formidable beasts. She was more. Unhinged and unmoving. Stubborn and brilliant and frightening.

A soul meant for greatness, for freedom.

She barely received any in the end.

Off she went to marry a man that appeared to know and understand so little about her. Off I went to marry another out of an odd sense of duty, refusing to be left behind in a world so cruel. My wife had always known I loved Talia. She could see it in my eyes even as years pilled on my back. She was the one, the stability and never changing picture in my life.

After she had lost those she had loved, her family dead at far too young of age, she came to live with me for a while. After Talbott’s funeral we sat in living room, spread on the carpet in front of the fireplace, empty bottles a lazy outline of our bodies. We drank so much the room was spinning, yet we felt warm and safe, tucked away from the world.

I thought her fire died out completely, as if life was slowly leaving her body with each slow breath she took. I pulled her close to me and we lay there, listening to our own heartbeats and the crackling of the fading fire until everything around us turned quiet.

I asked her then what she wanted to do and she told me she would disappear. I had not known what that meant and whenever I saw her until my dying breath, I knew even less than before. Death stuck close to her, more than a shadow did. It held a voice and name and a pair of dark eyes.

She let death hold her while she was still alive and he loved her all the more for it. For she was there, eternal as him, walking the path he dictated despite her not knowing it.

Most people that dare to come close to me end up dead. Few have lived to tell a tale, even fewer believed they knew me. I made my choices centuries ago and through that conviction alone I managed to continue living. Living and taking life because there was no other way around it. If I longed for a solution, the very memory of it became so insignificant and lost somewhere in the darkness of my mind that it felt lost.

Then, centuries later, I met her. Another like me and somehow very different.

She held onto the idea of death so firmly despite her actions telling me she wanted to live. And through all the twists and turns that life had to offer, she stayed…with me.

A constant presence, here but at the same time so far away. A woman built of fury and pain, like a second skin replacing everything. Fire and rage was what she wanted to world to see. Innocence was what I saw. A woman that had others force choices on her, by parents, friends or lovers, it didn’t matter. I did it too and I would do it again if it meant keeping her.

I am selfish and I take what is mine. Few commodities are afforded to eternal creatures. She thought of me as not a monster, but I know what I actually am. Let her play on the illusion of something more, let her believe I have something to give and let her try to convince me of it.

Some days I almost believe it, see the light of the new day and think she has managed to heal a part of me I didn’t know needed it. Maybe she is right and I’m just too stubborn to see it. Maybe she is wrong and it will eventually lead to her undoing and mine.

But for now, she is mine and I am hers. Or so she believes, because I belong to no one but myself. And she will hate me for it.

Or maybe that time will never come and the world will just end with brimstone and fire and the decision of living wouldn’t be on us anymore. It will be made for us instead and she would despise it because it would be one more decision that forces her hand. What a fucking pain in the ass she turned out to be.

My beautiful Talia.

#talbott winger #felix rosier #akira crane #talia crane #hph #hphm #hphm future era

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miserymerci · 8 months

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Fluffy February Day 4: Learn - Dictionary of Mine

@fluffyfebruary

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK and Sun Wukong

(Father-son relationship, hurt and comfort)

Summary: Set after the S4 special “The Emperor’s Wrath”. MK isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be. Sun Wukong doesn’t, either, but he might have a few ideas.

If you were to dump a rock-baby into Sun Wukong’s hands and tell him to take care of it, he would assume that you meant ‘kill it’ or something. Well, there was a perfectly good mountain top they would have been on, and he would have blinked owlishly at you before chucking it off the cliff. See? There, all done. No more rock-baby-whatever.

But really, Wukong hadn’t killed anyone since his Journey to the West days, and it wasn’t exactly something you’d like to keep a streak in.

So in that case, it would be a classic case of miscommunication. You didn’t really want him to drop a not-egg down a mountain, but maybe it was also a little bit of your fault for not clarifying.

But it would still be mostly Wukong’s fault. You just wouldn’t hear that come out of anyone’s mouth. Ever.

Wukong turned to look further into the cozy cave that had been his home for hundreds of years. It may have been an awful wreck in the aftermath of the not-end-of-the-universe, but he was quite the repair-monkey if he wanted to be– and he was the Monkey King.

He had monkeys to look after.

Wukong wiped an arm across his forehead and sighed.

“How’re you holding up, bud?” said Wukong.

MK was doing this weird thing with his tongue where it poked out in the corner of his mouth. Wukong didn’t think he’d ever actually seen anyone do that while painting.

“Uh, yeah!” said MK, looking up at his progress.

During the fight, the memorial that Wukong had had of himself was quite literally wiped clean from the walls. It had been fine, because to be fair, Wukong had spent half his life looking at it– and his whole life experiencing it.

But Tang was torn about a piece of history being lost, and MK (the lovable scamp he was) offered to replace it.

“Looking great, kid. It’s a spitting image,” said Wukong, stepping over the bag of trash he had been filling to get a little closer. “I think you may have made me more handsome than the original.”

The focused lines on MK’s face eased up.

“You think so?” he asked.

“Sure do.”

“I thought that I may have gotten the nose wrong.”

“Naw. It’s perfect.”

Now that the conversation’s icebreaker was over, Wukong reached over to put a hand on MK’s shoulder.

“In fact,” he said, “there’ll probably be some room on the other side of the room. Could put something different there.”

“Different how?” said MK, the little cheap paint tray palette easing down to his side. His grip on his brush, however, only got tighter.

“Well, I am immortal. Lots of things going on in my life, and the legacy lives on. I don’t think there’s enough space on the walls to be able to mention everything,” a squeeze, “just the important bits.”

MK blinked at him. Something sparkled in those brave eyes, but they quickly dropped to the floor.

“Uh, yeah. I understand. ‘Harbinger of Chaos’ does sound pretty important,” he said, tightly.

“Oh,” said Wukong, begging himself to catch onto what was going on with his successor, “oh. Well, yeah, but that’s not really what I had in mind, you know?”

“That’s sort of what I am in this story,” MK winced, an upsetting thing to see on his face, before turning to the memorial again and taking a step back.

Wukong followed his gaze.

In hindsight, maybe he should have had this conversation away from the grand painting of the Journey of the West pilgrims.

Wukong sniffed and then slotted himself between MK and the painting.

“You don’t have to be that stuff,” he said, wishing he had chosen a better word than ‘stuff’, but it had already left his mouth anyway. “You spent so long not being that, so it doesn’t have to change now. Not if you don’t want it to.”

“Things change,” said MK, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves. He opened his mouth to continue, and nothing came out– but Wukong could fill in the blanks.

It was true. Things did change, whether the change is welcomed or not. Wukong changed when the Brotherhood had failed to beat the Jade Emperor, Wukong changed when that circlet squeezed around his head, Wukong changed when he met MK.

MK’s eyes drifted from his hands to the memorial behind Wukong. Wukong side-stepped to match him.

“You’re right. But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you can be more than one thing at once. And not all of it is true. Have you ever believed for one second that I was some monster?”

“Of course not,” wheezed MK.

“Of course not,” echoed Wukong, “but others would tell you otherwise, right?”

MK swallowed. He blinked rapidly at the painting supplies in his hands before putting them down on a nearby rock.

“I’m really upset about it,” said MK quietly once they were both sitting on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” said Wukong, because he was. Having your entire identity crash down on you like that was horrible. Yet, here Wukong was, still keeping little bits and pieces of it secret. The guilt of it twisted in his belly. He wanted to make it right, but anything else would have made MK feel more wrong.

“If I’m not the Harbinger of Chaos,” whispered MK so softly that Wukong hadn’t even heard it at first, “and I’m not MK the delivery boy… then what am I?”

“Yeah, you did stop pretending to deliver noodles a while ago, didn’t you?” said Wukong, mostly to himself.

MK laughed (sheepishly), so he counted it as a win.

“Well,” said Wukong, “for one, you’re ‘MK’.”

“Are you sure?” asked MK, and Wukong was about to launch into a very serious five-hour lecture about ‘yes, MK you are Mk’, but the teasing smirk on his successor’s face stopped him short.

“Hey. I’m aware how dumb that sounded but I had a point.”

“Uh-huh.”

“My point,” a sharp look, “my point. Is that you’re different things to different people. You’re MK, the Monkie Kid, Mei’s best friend, Sandy’s go-to to giggle about TV dramas, Pigsy’s and Tang’s kid, my… student. You can make a killer bowl of noodles and beat anyone but Mei at Brick Fighter 2. Not to mention a pretty talented artist, if I do say so myself.”

MK flustered at the compliment, picking at a place on his thumbpad where red paint had dried off.

“Does that really make me me, though?”

“How about this,” said Wukong, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “What makes me me?”

“Oh,” said MK, brightening a tad bit, “your adventures, the experiences. You’re the bedtime stories that I grew up listening to. You’re a hero, Monkey King, and you’ve taught me almost everything I know in a fight.”

MK blinked, turning away from picking paint to look at Wukong’s careful expression.

Wukong crossed his arms and let his elbows rest on his knees, then smiled.

“Uh,” said MK, blinking again, scratching the back of his neck, “uh, but… oh… But that’s not all of you, is it?”

“Is it not?” said Wukong.

“No, it’s not.”

MK’s face went a funny red, embarrassed about the lesson that he was quickly catching onto.

“Okay then,” said Wukong after MK sat there looking at his hands for a few minutes.

“Okay then,” repeated MK. He took a deep breath. “I think… Well, you’re cheeky. You’re smart. Brave, too. You’re good at making people laugh– you make me laugh. It’s nice. You’re nice. But sometimes… you’re kind of not-so-smart.”

Wukong nodded, listing off the situations in his head where he hadn’t been completely truthful.

Maybe Wukong was a hypocrite (he was). Maybe this entire lesson was something he should be teaching himself (it was). Wukong had always been a quick learner in the arts of battle. Being eye-to-eye with something so different to bruised knuckles and sturdy chains was a situation Wukong never believed he’d be in.

Sunshine in the palms of his hands in the form of a rock. Stone that refused to stay cold. Orders, though confusing, could be tossed away– exchanged into something else.

Sun Wukong swallowed thickly, the guilt in his belly turning and twisting, but the sunshine in his palms remained warm.

“But I still admire you,” said MK, turning away from where his hands were being cradled by his mentor’s. Wukong didn’t know when he had done that.

MK was kind. MK was fierce. MK was sun. MK was moon. MK was everything and anything and nothing all at once. First, a hook deep in his heart that he did not yet understand. In the light of the sun, a little stone monkey was left at the highest mountain to be forgotten.

Wukong took the guilt and buried it deep in his being. Redemption came in all sorts of ways; in all sorts of meanings.

“I still admire you, too, kiddo,” said Wukong.

They took a deep breath together.

Finally, Wukong reached over to the abandoned paint palette and dipped his finger into the yellow paint.

“How about I help you finish this part up,” said Wukong, smearing the yellow paint onto MK’s nose. He proceeded to ignore MK’s noises of protest at the attack. “I like to think of myself as an artist, too. But more abstract, you know?”

“Maybe,” said MK, standing up. “But um… after, could you make those peach pancakes that we had that one time?”

“You mean the ones you don’t like?”

“I never said that. Here, hold the palette.”

#lego monkie kid #lmk sunburst duo #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lmk fanfiction

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