#left him again and whether directly or indirectly it was his fault. fucking shut up i need to lie down

[p4nishers]

i wonder whether mobius knows loki sacrificing themselves was an act of love, an act of devotion, an act of surrounder. to HIM . like on some level he must but i wonder, does he KNOW

[secondhand-trash]

Kinktober 2020 — somnophilia

A/N: two things: 1. this chapter is called sleep paralysis because in cantonese we call sleep paralysis 鬼壓床 which legit means a ghost pressing up against you in bed. 2. there are so many references in here that referred back to the other chapters of Le Petite Mort and I hope everyone had fun seeing all the throwbacks lmao

Warning: mention of arguments, somnophilia, dubcon, oral (receiving), thigh fucking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, ghost fucking

Word count: 3662

Q:

What do ghosts do to avoid dying in car crashes?

You grinned, and he felt goosebumps rising on his skin at how innocent and sweet the smile was.

“You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

Shinsou thought you were joking when you threw those few words down and headed upstairs without even sparing him one more glance, or that it was only something you said out of a moment of anger, but the deadpan look in your eyes as you shut the door in his face when he was about to follow you into the master bedroom was no joke.

Fine, he fucked up.

At first, he was certain that after one night, after you got a good night sleep and you weren’t pissed at him anymore, things would return to normal but no. The next day, you walked straight past him when he tried to catch you coming down the stairs. His hand was raised midair awkwardly when you directly ignored him after he greeted you with a tone that he felt was very nonchalant and proceed to block him from your view directly with the fridge’s door.

Being indirectly ignored kind of sucks, but being deliberately ignored and knowing he could not really deny that it was his fault really fucking sucked.

It was the third night of him sleeping alone in the empty guest room and after two days of being treated like air, he was starting to feel very, very bothered. How did he survive living on his own for so long? Shinsou groaned and flipped to his side, feeling a great sense of annoyance when the clear consciousness reminded him brutally that he did not need sleep at all and thus he was left with nothing but silence and his own thoughts as a company while he waited for the sun to rise.

He had wanted to swallow his pride and apologise first but every time he just felt a strange knot twisting and pressing down on his stomach when he met your cold stare that was obvious you wanted to pretend you couldn’t see him but also failed to not pick up his presence. He did something wrong, but was he really the sole one at fault? A hint of annoyance aroused from his chest whenever he saw how casually you looked when you walked around the house like it was just you, ripping away all the words that were stuck at the back of his throat until it vanished into thin air.

And so here he was, third night of not being able to sleep on his own bed, tossing and turning as the frustration of not being able to fall asleep made him all the more irritated.

How did he usually get through the night? He sighed, letting his arms fell at his sides limply while staring at the blank ceiling. Right, he clicked his tongue, he used to focus on the steady breathing from your side and use that to lure himself into letting his mind wander off to a state the closest he could get to being sound asleep. 

He groaned, running his palms down from his messy bangs to his face before slamming them down on the mattress. You really need to change this mattress to a nicer one, he thought as he looked around the room, and get some decorations too. 

Urgh, but that would have to wait until you make up. 

It would have to happen eventually, right?  

 He missed the way you would curl up next to him subconsciously in your sleep, or just having you next to him in general. He wondered if you were having a hard time sleeping on your own as well, or had you managed to get used to being alone like you had been ignoring him?

Shinsou thought of the soft whimpers you let out in your sleep, together with the steady rise and fall of your chest when you exhaled. Your lips jutted out so endearingly as nearly inaudible snores roll off of your lips. He felt a different type of irritation at the image, the type that started sparking up in his chest and spread all the way down to his lower stomach, then settled between his legs as an uncomfortable burn.

Fucking hell, as if the night couldn’t get any worse. The sigh he let out was exasperated when he slammed his head back, not getting any relief but felt an overwhelming emptiness when he moved his palm to place it over his semi-erection.

It had been a while since he was even close to being sexually frustrated, not with you around always one step ahead of him when he came up to wrap his arms around your waist and press up against you, earning a soft chuckle before you spun around and pull him in to reciprocate his initiation. He wasn’t all too dissatisfied by his own hand before you came into the picture either but now, knowing that you were right next door with only a wall between the two of you, soundly asleep in the very thin and very tiny shorts you like to wear in bed was not helping his case at all.

Walls could not keep him out. There were ground rules around the house, the first being “no walking through walls” but did that really matter when you wouldn’t even talk to him? His eyes widened at the thought that appeared in his head, pondering for a moment if it was immoral.

He let out a dry chuckle at how the situation he was in reminded him a whole lot of the night when he talked to you for the first time, when he was also on the other side of the wall battling his own thoughts on whether he should slip through it or not. How strange it was that he was now back at the same spot but struggling because of a different reason? Shinsou shut his eyes tight, knowing that this correlation meant one of the arguments in his head had won.

He hadn’t felt like this in a hot minute, but he suddenly remembered why he liked it so much when he pressed his hand on the wall and felt his body melting away.

He was in your(his) room when he opened his eyes again, shivering a little as his skin tingled from manifesting into a physical being again. His breath hitched when he caught your figure sprawled out on the large bed from the corner of his eyes. Taking a tentative step closer, he couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp at how lovely you looked. The moonlight spilled in through the parted curtains that flowed with the occasional breeze, slashing down a glowing white line across your face.

In sleep, you looked so at peace with your hands loosely by your side and your face tilted against the pillow. Your shirt had ridden up, likely from tossing around the space that you usually wouldn’t have that much of with him there by your side. He felt a pang in his chest when he saw the corner of the lavender blanket you bought for him months ago when he first moved into your room poking out from under your frame, the pounding growing louder and louder until it was all he could hear in his eardrums.

Was he allowed to make the assumption that you missed him as much as he had been thinking about you?

His steps were soft as he inched closer and closer to you, worried about waking you up at any given moment. He had told himself that he would only look but holding back was such a hard task when you were right there and he could touch your cheek if he did so little as reached out.

He froze in place when you flinched under his touch, forgetting to breathe for a second before he let out a relieved sigh at the observation that you were still very much so soundly asleep. He was careful when he slowly kneeled down on the edge of the mattress, cautious of the dip that sunk down around you as he perched on top of you.

He leaned down, and paused when he was hovering right about your face. His heart was pounding in his chest, his gaze skittering as he drank in your serene expression.

The first peck was quick and he pulled back almost immediately the moment he touched the softness of your lips. He was breathless at how you seemed to be asking for more with the way your mouth parted even more reflectively and he dipped back in before doing it again and again and again.

He got bolder and bolder when he saw how you were not close to jolting awake, tentatively slipping his tongue in and supported the back of your head with his hand as he tilted you back. It took every ounce of control in him to not moan out at the feeling of your warm mouth, the feeling of skin overwhelming him after a while of isolation.

He couldn’t help but let his hands wander down from the side of your waist and onto the soft swell of your hips where it was connected to your thighs. His lips started to trail down your jaw, not daring to nib down but compromised with open mouthed kisses that left trails of sheen down the soft skin of your neck. He felt a rush to his core when you shivered at the feeling of his icy fingers brushing against your stomach when he crept his hand up your shirt, a subtle jolt of your hips when the pad grazed against your perky nipples nearly had him pulling away.

“Hmp...”

The whimper that slipped from your lips when he rolled the hardened bud between his fingers had his mind racing, his other hand kneading the other side gently over your shirt. He found himself biting back a groan at the sound of your voice. It had only been three days and he already felt like it had been ages since last heard your voice. Trailing down, his eyes were fixed on your face as his lips phantomed over your torso, letting out a shaky breath when he eventually stopped on top of your pelvis.

He felt a heat flaming at the tip of his ears when he dipped his head down, letting the tip of his nose just barely rubbing against the fabric of your shorts before carefully yanking the loose fitting edge of it to the side.

He could not hold himself back anymore when he saw the faint wet spot that had formed at the crotch of your panties.

One long lick on the cotton had it sticking against your cunt, the slight print of your folds sensible on his tongue as he mapped out the shape. He felt like an absolute pervert, feeling so turned on by the slightly textured cotton tugging at his tongue and the sight of his saliva leaving a mark on the already forming spot on your panties. Your body squirmed a little under his ministrations, soft pants leaking from your parted lips and egging him on. Even in your sleep, your body was always responsive to every single touch and drag he placed on you. He slid his index finger underneath the thin piece of fabric, pushing it to the side to reveal your bare slit. There was a slight sheen coating your sex, the lightest clench visible as he laid there with his face right in front of you. 

Every fiber in his being was set aflame when you let out a muffled moan at the tentative way he pressed his tongue flat against your pussy, his hand on top of your lower stomach and thumb just pulling the hood of your clit up enough for him to see the small bud. Glancing his eyes upward, he hummed softly when he saw your eyebrows furrowing together at the friction, slowly and steadily picking up the pace of his kitten licks so your sleeping body could adjust to it in your dreams.

The sounds you made when you were asleep was much different to that when you were very much so conscious, so much breathier and whiny as he dragged his tongue along your sopping folds and flicking upwards at your clit that was starting to swell up from the touches. 

His other hand reached down to his pants to palm his hard on, focusing on how your legs kicked slightly when his tongue slipped past your cunt and stretched out your walls slightly. He felt you clamping down on his harder than usual and it took more coaxing for him to find ease with plunging the warm muscles in and out of your core. You made a soft whimper that almost sounded like a mewl when he swirled the tip of his tongue in you, rubbing against your sensitive walls as he felt your muscles relaxed around him. 

The dull ache between his legs was now painstakingly obvious and hard to brush off as he tasted your arousal on his tongue, the saltiness filling his senses and reminding him of the way your legs clenched around his head the last time he was devouring you.

He did not miss the way your back arched when he pulled out, swiping his tongue across his bottom lips to collect your juices that were leaking down the corner of his lips. His hand was at the side of your thigh, caressing your skin gently as he pulled down the band of his pants. He chewed on his lips as he fisted his cock in hand, the other that was on your legs moving to pull your shorts and panties off your legs completely before he kneeled between your parted legs. 

You twisted around a little when he carefully held onto your calves and bringing them up, kissing the arch of your foot as he eyed you in intent. You didn’t seem to be so displeased by his maneuvering than you were because of dissatisfaction, your lips parting like a frown and your brows locked in place. He rubbed his tip against the soft flesh of your thighs that were now pressed together.

He groaned at the feeling of your legs pressing against his cock when he slip his length in between the base of your thighs, the wetness of your slit making for lubrication as he slowly thrust up against the soft flesh. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to not let the moans that were stuck at the back of his throat echoed out at how nice and warm your skin felt. The friction that was provided had his skin heating up, the way his cock rubbed between the curve of your thighs almost painful before the burn was taken over by a rush of pleasure down his spine. Your hips rocked against the mattress as he snapped his hips upwards, your lips falling apart to form a rounded shape as the white sparks poked against your blurred senses in your sleep.

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls, and the back of your thighs reddened under each slam of his pelvis against your skin. His tip was leaking with pre-cum, dripping onto your lower stomach in dots of white as his jaw clenched. He could see your face clearly with the way he was on his knees, each furrow of your eyebrows and quiver of your lips all being drank in by his wandering eyes. His breaths got more and more erratic as he felt his stomach tightened, the period of time where he was completely deprived of acknowledgement let alone touch weighing at the pit of his stomach and making his self control chipped away little by little.

He was sure he could taste blood on his lips with how hard he was biting down as he pulled out from between your legs, his hands still gripping tightly onto your knees as he hooked them loosely around his waist.

It was almost a performative gesture when he leaned down and kissed you square on the lips before he hilted in you.

The sudden stretch set aflame on the fuse in your core, the numbing shock that pulsed through your body tickling your senses until it was far too real to be a dream. You blinked your eyes as you slowly stirred awake, the sore at the side of your jaw and the jolts that reached right down to the tip of your toes setting in as your eyes got used to the darkness. 

You felt a pang of panic when you realised that your limbs could not move.

It was like there was this invisible weight on your body, your legs propped up mid-air but there was nothing between them except for the unmistakable feeling of something hard and hot pulsing between your tight walls. Your eyes rolled back when the pleasure settled in, your body being completely out of your own control as you laid there and gave in to the warmth that was budding in your core. You wanted to whine when the fullness suddenly ceded, only for it to return in the form of a strong thrust that aimed right at the spongey spot deep inside of you. There was nothing in your vision except for the darkness of the room and the faint moonlight, but you did not even need to make a guess to know who it was pressing up against you.

“Ah- Toshi!”

And there it was, the sweet sound of his name rolling off your lips that he didn’et get to hear for the past few days. It was pleasure, an illogical sense of longing, and guilt that settled into the pit of his stomach when you clamped down around his cock. He gulped, his lips falling open as he threw his head back at your velvety walls around his length that was pulsing and warming inside of you. 

He appeared in front of your eyes with a blink, and you lifted up your hands in struggle under the way your body shook under his force. He leaned down almost immediately when you looked at him in the eyes, the waves of emotions welling up in his chest when your hand tangled into his unruly hair and pulled him down for a kiss, the kind where you put in as much force into it that your teeth almost clashed. 

He moaned into your mouth, ropes of white cum painting your insides as his thrusts got sloppier. He was still driving in and out of you when he let go of your legs and reached right up to where your bodies connected. A sharp mewl was ripped from the back of your throat when he rubbed his thumb against your clit, his tongue tangled with yours as he tried to push you down the edge with each press and nudge of his digit against the engorged bud. 

You shut your eyes tight as the hair at the back of your head stood up at the chills that washed down your arms, tugging his hair between your fingers as you cum around him. The soft lilac locks felt like silk slipping out of your hand as you let your hands slam down on your side, letting out a sigh when he gave a few more thrusts before slowly pulling out.

You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, the instant feeling of the sticky substances inside of you threatening to leak out had you clenching your legs together out of reflex as the man flopped next to you. It was the first time you felt a weight around you on the mattress in days, and you didn’t feel the oddity setting in until you shivered under the cold touch of his arm around your waist.

His droopy eyes were looking up at you from the side as you stared at the ceiling, staying silent except for the slight panting of your breaths.

You sighed, “I was trying to stay mad at you...”

“I know,” he said, the knot at the back of his throat starting to form but he swallowed it down as he forced what he must say out of his lips, “I’m sorry.”

His voice was so soft, and you could not help the stammering in your chest at how there were so many times when you were close to giving in the past few days just to hear that. 

You closed your eyes, trying to conjure up all the things that had been floating in your head that past few days when you were so torn between guilting him and mending things. It wasn’t the nicest thing you could have done, you would have to admit but it was the decision that made you feel better and now that you were, you could finally see past the moment of rage blinding your eyes and think of how to move onwards.

“We should talk about that day later,” you said in a whisper, each exhale feeling like a bit of weight was lifted from your chest, "if we want this to work then we need to figure out how to work through things and... well, I really want this to work out.”

“Yeah,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the blade of your shoulder, “I do too.”

You had gotten so used to the scent of lavender that seemed to follow him where ever he went that you were numbed to it almost but the last few days had made the lack of floral hints prickling at your nose awfully hard to ignore. You had never liked lavender, still didn’t now, but there were no denying that your brain slowly melted down at the sweet scent that brushed against your nerves.

You would talk later, but for now you just wanted to fall asleep and not wake up until the sun was spilling through the window onto the large bed that you no longer occupied alone.

Read the rest of the series here

A:

They buckle their sheetbelts.

[shardclan]

Lutia had to have known they were there. While she might not have heard them over the roar of the Sundew Falls, it was impossible to think she wouldn't sense them. Yet she didn't so much as tilt an ear.

Ashes and Arcanus stood side by side, wary and ready and hoping this could be done peacefully.

"Lutia," the old brother said stonily. "We've come for your tome."

"...Oh?"

"The Lightweaver mandated that all Arcane paraphernalia not occupationally or religiously related be removed. We thought you would be covered as an Arcane Archmage. Turns out, Her Luminance knows what you keep in that book."

“I’m sure she does. And I’m sure you must as well.” Lutia stood, and there was a grinding noise that set both brothers on edge. "So do you really think I'll give it up so easily?"

"Lutia, we are living under the Lightweaver’s grace."

"So we are. And yet this book is my property. I will not let anyone, even one of the Eleven, tell me that I may not keep it."

Ashes' nostrils flared. He gripped his coral pendant. "To think you were such a spoiled shit this whole time, Lutia."

The words took both the Archmage and Arcanus by surprised, but Ashes didn't stop. He had avoided so much as looking at Lutia ever since they arrived. Now he was forced to see her on official business, and her stubbornness cracked every dam he had.

"Stop acting like you're the only one who knows suffering, out here moping on the edge of this cliff all day. You haven't even apologized, you haven't even bowed you head! And you have the gall to act like you are owed this one thing when you owe so many others!"

He pointed accusingly. "If you want to act like a child, fine! If you want to be a bitch, fine! But don't knowingly endanger the clan's standing with the Lightweaver! If your coward’s tongue can’t even manage ‘I’m sorry’, then at least don’t actively damage our attempts to settle!"

Arcanus had his hand on his sword. He hadn't expected his brother to snap like that, and he couldn't take Lutia in a fight. But he was ready to die if that's what it took.

Lutia pulled her hood back. There were glowing, starry cracks around her eyes, and the faint impression of a spiraling galaxy on her irises, with her pupils at the centers. They were remnants of her extended connection to the Chalcedony Circle. She had mastered it, as many had tried and failed to do, but it left its mark on her.

"You've gotten mouthy, student."

"I'm not your student," he hissed bitterly. "I don't mean anything to you. I don't think I ever did."

A flicker of hurt touched Lutia's eyes, but it was momentary. "Believe that if you want. Your queen is responsible for ensuring your good standing with your new deity. Tell her to come for it, if it must be taken."

"I'm here."

The two males parted, allowing Telos to pass between them. Her gown was not so grand, but the way she wore it she might as well have been a glittering Light Sprite coming on behalf of the Lightweaver to handle business. There was no fear in her stride or on her face as she stood before the Archmage.

“I suspected you might make this difficult,” Telos said calmly. “So I didn’t let them come alone.”

“How nice of you to finally face me, your majesty.”

“Is the implication that I was hiding? I’ve been in the same spot on the Promenade since we came to this land, you know.”

“I was thinking more that you were avoiding me. You’ve sent so many people to come see me after all.”

Telos’ face blanked. When expression came back to it, it was rife with pity and no small amount of disgust. “You were that type, hm?”

“What type is that, now?”

“The immature type who will twist things that might make you examine yourself while you are upset. That has to be it, because you cannot possibly expect me to believe that you think so little of your family that you would believe I sent them to try and comfort you.” Telos shook her head. “Unexpectedly childish.”

“You’re calling me childish? You only have the memory of being old, Telos, you’re a fraction of my age.”

“And you’ve only a fraction of my ability to cope like an adult.” Telos held out her hand. “The tome, please.”

Lutia unclipped the book from its belt, and placed it in Telos’ fingers.

Telos wasn’t surprised to find Lutia’s grip vice-tight and entirely unyielding when she tried to take it.

The two locked eyes. A faint swirl of pink static crawled over the book.

“Something you want to say to me, Lutia?”

“I want you to remember that you’re queen because I allow it. And if you do anything to hurt this clan, I will wipe you out.”

Telos’ gaze hardened until she could have shattered diamonds with you. “Is that the stone you want to throw Lutia? You remember the part where your outburst destroyed our home, directly killed one of the coven, and indirectly led to deaths in the field right?”

“That’s that. This is this.”

The sparks over the book grew brighter.

“No. You don’t get to draw that arbitrary line. You were the first to hurt this clan after Opal, and you passed judgement on him. If you think you’re fit to pass judgement on anyone else, make sure you do it in order and deal with yourself first. You’re not helping me re-organize or rebuild, so don’t fucking threaten me. Who’d run things if not me, Lutia? You? No, you’d still be the same petulant little child content to do none of the hard work and take no responsibility.”

“You have no fucking idea--”

“There you go again! Acting like you’re the only one hurt. Saber was your best goddamn friend and I sat in meetings with him discussing the treasury for days and at least once per day he would get choked up discussing inventory. Have you spoken to him? Have you said anything to your best friend about his dead child?! Or have you been too ashamed to even think that you might have led to her death, so you do what you did with Willow and tell yourself it was her fault for taking an unsafe path when she was fleeing in terror from YOU? Would you have told yourself that same foul,self-serving lie if Ashes had--”

“SHUT UP!”

Both of them were fizzling and crackling with magic energy that seeped into and around them. The symbol on the tome was flaring, and both their knuckles were white from the pressure of their grip.

Telos leaned in. Her teeth bared, her eyes stormy with contempt. “I have grown used to be out of my league, Lutia. I was with Opal. I was when all this responsibility suddenly fell to me. I was when I met Dreamweaver at first and they were angry and wary and dealing with hurts of their own. I am finding out every day that I am out of my league regarding all the politics and logistics and little tiny details involved in getting this clan back on its feet. But I have risen to all of those challenges, while you have cowered before the simple task of accepting your part in all this. Over my dead body will I fear you, Lutia. And over my dead body will I let this clan live in fear of you, thinking that even I cannot bring you to heel.”

“Either take the leap and kill me in cold blood right here and right now, or give me the godsdamned book.”

Lutia roared. Arcanus and Ashes leaped to their queen’s defense, and found themselves repelled bu a barrier. Between Ashes’ technical knowledge and Arcanus’ practical ability, the broke through it in a matter of seconds, but by then it was already over.

Lutia’s hair stood out in a giant fearsome mane of ringlets radiating wisps of Arcane magic like steam. The vapor caused by her sudden magical discharge cleared. The cliff edge had been vaporized right up to wear Lutia had been standing. Under her feet, the open air filled with water, the edge of the falls suddenly altered and spilling in a wider spray than before. She was breathing heavily, from emotion rather than exertion. She looked at Telos’ hand, still holding the book. Blackened as through coated in soot, but unharmed.

“Nullification?” she muttered.

“Your former student is quite good at discreet runes.” Telos glanced down as well. “You definitely would have hurt me, but it seems you lacked intent to kill me. So let’s have it.”

Lutia sighed, and released the book.

“Thank you. From now on, you do as I ask without this unsightly display.”

The Archmage curled her legs up, sitting on air as she usually did when meditating. “No. You are their queen, not mine. Even if I can’t kill you, that doesn’t mean I accept you.”

“That’s very nice, Lutia, but you have it wrong. I’m not your queen or their queen, I’m The Queen. Whether you accept me or not, you’re living as one of Clan Aphaster’s number. So you stay and do as I say, or you leave my territory.” She handed the tome gently to Ashes, flipping through to check that its contents were as expected. An unexpected softness came to her as she saw her husband’s name. The last entry. The last Shard. Born five eons ago now. Had it really only been three that she got to spend with him?

“I’ll give you more time,” she murmured sympathetically. “Ashes was right. You are still a child lashing out because you are hurt and angry. You can barely control your own grief, much less deal with the grief you have caused to others.”

She dared to rest a hand on Lutia’s shoulder, even though it meant wading into the fresh mud of the new bank. “But a day will come when the clan needs you, Lutia. And when I will demand better of you. I hope you have healed and found a way to forgive yourself by then.”