#i see them every day but i still miss them and idk how to fix it

[twinksintrees]

i’m so tired. i’m so tired and i feel like i have no reason to be. i feel like i’m trying to be in 4 places at once and be what everyone needs to be all of the time and i don’t know what to do. i need to find a balance but i don’t know how, i haven’t had to juggle this kind of balancing act before. how do people do this

#i have my job i have theater i have my friends and dnd and i have my family and siblings #and fucking hell #i love my job but it’s fucking stressful #and theater is lovely and perfect and everything i’ve ever wanted but i feel guilty going down there on my days off because i could be #spending that time with my family and i’m Not #i worry i’m not doing a good enough job at dnd what if my role play isn’t good what if i make a bad character decision #what if i take up too much space and try to hog all the attention #and not give other people their time of day to shine #and i miss my family #i see them every day but i still miss them and idk how to fix it #i feel like a walking bundle of nerves #and i need to stay calm and be grounded and present but idk how that’s so fucking hard #my sisters leaving soon and i don’t want her to and i feel so selfish and guilty #I mean i do like of course i want her to go to college and achieve her dreams and everything #but fuck i’ll miss her and i have this childish need to cling onto everything and never let go #i can’t do this #ramblings of a henry

[tau1tvec]

S/O to a few of my favorite TS3CC Creators

I know this community is small, and therefore doesn't get as much love and attention as it deserves, but know that it is alive and well, much like my love for it, and it's many thanks to these ppl for keeping it fresh and fun even today.

@simtanico literally what would my sims be without you and your amazing sliders, slider fixes, and conversions.

@rollo-rolls you always work so hard to keep our sims looking stylish, I know a lotta people in this community appreciate you as much as I do!

@johziii you put so much love into your CC as you do your sims, homes and gameplay, you're truly the whole package!

@sim-songs an absolute legend for helping revive the Maxis Match ts3 community!

@nectar-cellar an absolute legend, period.

@imamiii idk how you do it, but you make this game look how it probably would had it been released today. Whether it's your gameplay posts, or your CC, I know when I see your post on my dash, I'm bound to be blown away.

@sourlemonsimblr still can't tell whether we're playing the same game, bc everything you post looks like The Sims 10, but I am so glad you're willing to share your CC with us, so maybe one day we will be playing the same game, lol.

@pleaseputnamehere just thought I'd let you know that I kiss your nosemasks goodnight as I tuck them into bed.

@xiasimla an amazing talented and devoted creator all around, every download post is a WIN.

@martassimsbook you keep my love for ts3's buy/build mode alive!

@billsims-cc ty for never giving up on us. 😭😭😭

@bioniczombie for sharing your amazing conversions, and helping run one of my favorite ts3cc finds blogs!

@satellite-sims although you aren't too active right now, I miss you, and I love your conversions sm. The extra work you put into making them the absolute best quality, just like all your posts is so loved and appreciated.

@simbouquet your mods and fixes are such a MUST, you always know exactly what this game needs, and execute it like a pro.

@phoebejaysims another amazing modder keeping this game truly interesting, ty so much for your dedication.

@criisolatex you're like some ethereal being sent to Earth on a mission to make ts3 the best it can be, and you're kind enough to share it with us.

@nemiga-sims-archive you pop out every once and a while like an all year round Santa giving us presents to throw into our games. TY!

@olomaya you work so hard to expand and improve and also make the gameplay in ts3 a lot more interesting.

@twinsimming you know you carry ts3 simblr, right? 💕

@thesweetsimmer111 besides being just the most talented animator I've ever seen in any modding community, your dedication to the youngest and ignored age groups is most admirable, ty.

@flotheory yet another talented and devoted modder giving ts3 the love and attention it deserves. I just know the devs would be so proud.

@greenplumbboblover you've always got something big up your sleeve, your ambition knows no bounds, and the ts3 community is so lucky to have you.

I'm likely forgetting some folks, so I'll probably add some more when I remember, and ty again everyone on this list for working so hard to keep this game alive, and fun, and freeeeeee!

#the sims 3 #ts3 #smallsimblrsaturday

[reidspharb]

The Moment I Knew

*Part two

Summary: Spencer misses your 25th birthday and that’s when you realize your relationship can’t be fixed.

Word count: 800 or something idk ICBA shes a short one

Warnings: angst, Reid is a shitty boyfriend in this one

Note: hi this was written at 3 am and I’m new to writing so if this sucks sorry anyways but I got this idea from Taylor Swifts song by the Same name and I thought I would write it so yeah enjoy

Sure, you were so happy all your friends were there and everyone was having a good time… but you couldn’t help but think about Spence.

It was 10 pm, the party started at 8 and he still wasn’t there like he promised. You couldn’t help but think about him coming through the door right now, gifts in hand as he did on your last birthday with that baby I’m right here smile.

You knew he couldn’t be here, and you knew how much he valued his work, but, he wasn’t even on a case far away… he was here, in Virginia, and he couldn’t even call to wish you a happy birthday.

Your eyes were locked on the door most of the time as you socialized. People asked about him, about your relationship, and the most you could give them was a sad smile and a dishonest word about how great everything was going.

“So how have you been,” your friend Sarah said as she laughed and took a sip of her drink “I mean I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

you plastered on the brightest fake smile you could and mustered up an answer just normal enough to get you by.

“I've been okay, you know, with work and everything.”

All you could think about was him, how he said he would be there. He told you- no he promised you weeks in advance that he would be here. But he’s not.

You felt stupid, standing there all dolled up in your tight black dress and red lipstick. You thought maybe if you dressed up nice he would make sure to be there, but then again, there you were with no one to impress.

You knew it was hopeless, there you were on your birthday staring at the door and watching the clock tick as everyone around you danced and laughed. You looked around the room, trying to spot him in the crowd but who were you fooling, you knew he wasn’t there.

As you listened to your loved ones sing happy birthday around you, you could only hear his voice in your memory. When you blew out those candles your only wish was for him to be there with you. You should’ve been so happy, but he was the one thing missing.

Then it was 1 am, and you were barely tipsy. you already had a nervous stomach, you knew drinking would only make it worse. By now you were sick of everyone being around you, you just wanted to be alone. You stumbled to the bathroom over some discarded red cups and locked yourself in there, tears burning at your eyes when you saw yourself in the mirror.

You did your makeup the way he liked it too so that if you sent pictures he really wouldn’t miss it, such a naive thing to think you told yourself. You heard a knock on your door and there were your two best friends, Tegan and Oliver, mixed with the emotions of seeing them staring at you with so much pity in their eyes and Spencer being away made you break down.

Tegan held you as you sobbed, mascara dripping down your cheeks with every tear.

“He said- he said he would be here…”

“I'm so sorry, love bug, I wish I could grab him and rip him into pieces. You deserve so much better.” Said Oliver, holding your cold hands.

You felt so embarrassed, sitting there in front of your friends crying about some stupid boy. But he was the one who meant the most to you and he wasn’t there.

The next morning you woke up on your couch, head pounding. Your apartment was trashed, there were plastic cups scattered all over the room. As you stepped over them to get ready for the day, you felt a sharp pain in your chest as you heard Spencer’s familiar ringtone playing from your phone.

“Hey doll, it’s me” he sighed on the other line of the phone.

“Hi, Spencer.” You mumbled. You knew it would hurt to say his whole name instead of the nickname you’d been calling him since the day you met him.

“I'm so sorry I didn’t make it babe I was caught up in paperwork and I lost tra-“ you interrupted his rambling, you didn’t care anymore.

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” You hissed into the phone before hitting the red button on the screen and setting your phone back down on the counter.

That was the moment you knew.

That was the moment you knew that this would never work out.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #dr spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #idk what else to put here #help #first fic #or whatever #is that cringe #idk lol #Reidspharbangst

[adamsrcnan]

i'm thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards again and it seriously breaks my heart. the way he pulled out that first postcard and his heart sank when he saw the writing was blotted out and how he desperately spread them all out trying to find any still salvageable. and then the bear missing a piece and the hope that maybe the missing bit was at the bottom of the box but there was nothing there so it would never be fixed. like they knew it was his favourite and purposely left it irreparable.

and i need to know so many things!!! like when was the first time kevin gave him each of them?? what made him think of jean and pick them up?? what had he written on the back of the postcards??

what did jean think and feel when kevin first gave him them??? did he clutch them desperately in his hand?? bc it had been so long since anyone had given him anything after he'd been snatched from his home and come to the nest empty handed and reduced to a number. did he immediately display them proudly in his room?? or did he keep them hidden at first?? afraid that riko or someone else would take them away from him.

why was the bear with the beret his favourite??? what if it's because kevin handed it to him a stupid smile on his face saying "this one reminded me of you" and jean looks at it skeptically and says "why?? bc of the beret and i'm french?" and kevin just snickers a little and jean rolls his eyes and kevin says something teasingly in french newly taught by jean and jean feels something pull at his chest and he clutches the magnet tighter and says a curt thank you but every time he looks at it he'll remember how kevin smiled at him and how for a second they felt like normal kids and not helpless caged animals. and then he gets them back and they're broken and ruined but they're the only thing he's truly owned in so long so of course he will keep then forever even if he can't bear to look at them anymore. even if the thought of them damaged and destroyed makes him sick to his stomach.

and then!! and then there's jeremy who notices when jean's gaze lingers on the magnets on cat and laila's fridge and gets all excited when he spots jean's collection and tells him they can make room on the fridge and isn't aware of the sadness jean probably has to force down when he tells him they don't stick anymore and how jeremy automatically assumes it's because they were well-worn and sentimental bc he has no idea how much they meant to jean and how they were used as a way to get to him to hurt him.

my heart hurts it really hurts thinking about it. i really hope the trojan's start gifting him some and he starts a new collection and idk maybe jeremy learns the truth about what happened to them and tries his best to fix them up again or even searches desperately to find the same ones and maybe kevin hears about it too and starts sending jean new ones whenever he travels so that one day jean will think of those old ones or even see them up on his fridge or in a drawer and he won't feel an ache in his chest anymore.

#this is such a ramble-y post but UGH #i can't stop thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards #it physically hurts my chest #jean moreau bby you deserve all the pretty magnets and postcards !!!! #jean moreau #kevin day #jeremy knox #the sunshine court spoilers #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #tsc #all for the game #aftg

[lesbianslvt666]

Hey whats up?

You can imagine Ellie sulking because the reader goes to an all-girls sleepover - which she wasn't invited to - and she knows that some gay girls are going to be there and that makes her a little jealous and it only gets worse when she sees the reader wearing a short, tight, sexy nightgown making her horny and then she stops the reader from going to the party with a good fuck? top ellie pleaaase 🥵

Ummm… yes 🫡

Sorry for the delay love.

Cw: smut, 69, softdom!Ellie, pussy eating (both), fingering (r!) idk what else lol

Ellie saw you going from left to right and everywhere in your shared room, looking sometimes down to your wrist watch that she gifted you, just cause you mentioned you liked it.

Her body relaxed against the door frame, her eyes wondering all over your body, scanning all the ways you move underneath the very revealing nightgown, your curves highlighted by the dark and thin material, so sheer she could se your nipples poke thorough.

She was pissed to say the least.

First, your friends make sure to leave very clear that you weren’t allowed to bring Ellie to the sleep over.

Well not really… your friend group consisted of your closest friends, the same group the formed around third grade. you went way back, and for the weekend, all of you were at the same place at the same time, a rare occasion giving the fact that you went to different colleges.

When they organized the sleepover at Dinas house the rules were.

1: bring something to drink, thats why there was a Jose Cuervo bottle in your bag.

2: bring something to eat. Thats why there was an apple pie chilling in the kitchen, the house smelled amazing.

3: bring something to share. They really meant something to gossip about, but you had nothing on your plate so you took your can filled weed and a pretty pipe, some cigarettes too.

And last but no least.

No. Plus. Ones.

Only the og’s could be there.

At first to Ellie the plan seemed cute, how long have you guys met, how much you still loved one another.

Until she realized half your friend group is gay, her eyes opened wide. “Babe, you cannot go! There is gonna be gay girls there!” Her voice lowered like she was telling you a secrete and that made you laugh very hard.

Since then she has been trying to convince you not to go. Helping you do extra chores, fixing things around your shared apartment (that you had asked for her help and she was putting them off), bringing you flowers (which wasn’t anything new since she loved to bring you flowers)

Hell she even tried to call your brother for extra help!

Nothing worked.

you missed your friends and you wanted to be there with them, you knew the “gay girls” were no threat to your love for Ellie, they were basically your sisters!

But Ellie was so stubborn, you explained her every single time that she had nothing to worry about, not in the slightest!

And she was about to drop it, until now.

When she entered the room after you asked her to please take the pie off the oven, you had just came out of the shower and she had nothing else to do for the day.

After putting the pie on the counter and making sure the oven was off she walked to you room, messy clothes all over the floor and your hurried form running around it.

Her eyes went dark, lust filled eyes mixed with anger.

“Nothing to worry about? Looking like that?” She was walking up to you slowly, almost careful.

“Is it too much? I bought it and haven’t used it before, thought it was a good idea..” your voice trailed off when she grabbed you harshly by your hips.

Long fingers closing harshly at the plush skin.

“Please ill do whatever, whatever you want, just… let me…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, mouth connecting to your neck, you just looked like a goddess and she couldn’t resist to plead to you.

Knees falling carelessly on the ground, her hands going up and down your bare legs. Her pretty eyes looking from your sinful ones to your delicious core.

She felt delirious, exhausted on the feeling of not having you.

You couldn’t deny her when she looked up at you like that, pretty sprawled legs wanting to close for friction but she wouldn’t.

She knew you liked the view, and so she gave you more.

She peeled her hands, pain struck her cunt. Fingers grabbing the bottom of her tank top and pulling it off her body.

Her tits perking with the cold air of the room and you felt like you were gonna faint.

Her fingertips graced your skin, finally touching you again, no care where she was touching she just needed to be in contact with you.

Your mind was clouded on Ellie, lust filled senses and no other thought but to have her, you needed her.

She tried to stand up but you grabbed a bunch of her hair, she let out a groan as you pull her back down.

Acting like you could have racional thoughts at this moment you looked down to your wrist, pretending to read the time. “I am gonna be late for-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence with her lips latching on your thighs.

Marking and sucking as much as she could, she needed every person in the world to know you were hers.

“Please baby, please, let me taste you, stay the night with me…” she was shifting squirming while pleading you, and how could you not answer to her prayers…

Your hand tangled on her hair pushed her all the way in, lips like feathers tickling you lips covered by a pretty pair of panties than matched the night gown.

She moaned at the sight of your pretty lips tight on your panties, creamy anticipation leaving a wet spot on the fabric, she kissed one time thinking she could go slow with you.

But she couldn’t resist.

Her plump lips wet with your milky essence and she was done for.

Open mouth latching on your pussy, her hot tongue pressing around and sucking at it, but it wasn’t enough.

She hooked one of her fingers on your waist line, looking up at you but before she could ask for permission you spoke.

“Go on baby, please eat me, touch me. Fuck-“

Moany mess under her mouth now latched to your pussy, tongue circling your clit while she humped on the air.

So wet there was a spot forming on her gray sweats.

“Ellie, baby…” your voice was followed by your hand pulling her off your cunt, a desperate groan falling from her lips and you kneeled down to kiss her, she tried to pull you in, but you resisted.

You had a plan.

And she knew. Standing up she took you under your legs, you naturally jumped on her, intertwining your legs at her waist.

She kissed your neck leaving marks and kisses.

Putting you down on the bed while kneeling between your legs.

She looked down at you now, and anger seeped mixing with her lust.

“You slut… you were really gonna go almost naked to a sleep over with you “friends”?” Her voice lowered, you almost closed your legs together, her voice sending waves of heat down to your cunt and it made you buckle up your hips trying to reach her.

“No, ill give you what i want and you are gonna take it okay?” She said with one hand moving to your wrists, keeping them up and kissing you harshly, her demeanor changing.

Her movements were fast, mouth sucking on your tongue, her hips humping on to you and you felt like you were going crazy.

Rough fingers falling to your cunt, inserting the middle one without previous notice.

Spongy walls clenching around her.

And like something snapped on her mind she stopped.

Taking her sweats and boxers off with a swift motion she propped herself on top of you, body facing yours.

Her cunt right on top of your face.

“You are gonna eat me until i tell you to stop” your hands sneakered on her legs, like snakes bringing her closer to your face, she didn’t waste no time to use your pretty mouth to please herself.

Your legs spread on the bed while you squirmed, her cream all over your face and her moans made you almost cum.

She couldn’t resist, the way she could see the glistening wetness pooling on your precious cunt.

One hand fell to your pretty pussy, spreading your lips to watch you, flushed and hot cunt pulsating and gushing for her, you were torturous, her body falling forward while you ate her like a starved woman.

Her lips connected to your cunt again, she was unable to refrain from being there, you were magnetic, and she loved the way you taste.

I was gonna continue this but i hit writers block again :)) gonna go insane.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #lesbian #the last of us #wlw #wlw smut #smut #mean!ellie

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

================================================

Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall. 

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake. 

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers. 

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating. 

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have. 

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her. 

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband. 

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his. 

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned. 

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her. 

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests. 

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity.  Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye. 

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention. 

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love. 

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them. 

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk. 

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth. 

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him. 

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens. 

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her. 

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions. 

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish. 

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation. 

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm. 

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle. 

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?” 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air. 

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds. 

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her. 

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster. 

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses. 

“My wife?” He kisses again. 

“My forever goddess?” And again. 

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste. 

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg. 

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down. 

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most. 

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit. 

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure. 

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation. 

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. 

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine. 

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back. 

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow. 

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband. 

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb. 

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.” 

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body. 

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal. 

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks. 

“Beg for it.” He commands. 

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth. 

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for. 

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide. 

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest. 

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him. 

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her. 

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice. 

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question. 

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again. 

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost. 

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were. 

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her. 

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again. 

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together. 

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same. 

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention. 

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence. 

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety. 

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation. 

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.” 

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears. 

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would. 

“What in return?” He asks. 

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position. 

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head. 

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king. 

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that. 

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end. 

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth. 

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren. 

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream. 

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found. 

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors. 

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was. 

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull. 

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her. 

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses. 

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.” 

“Let us hope,” She says defeated. 

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned. 

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself. 

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world. 

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her. 

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since. 

The Dreaming is dying. 

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry. 

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon. 

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child. 

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees. 

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay. 

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her. 

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs. 

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child. 

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps. 

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear. 

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up. 

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs. 

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her. 

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her. 

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this. 

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature. 

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library. 

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her. 

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons. 

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed. 

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off. 

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard. 

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes. 

“Who dares summon m-” 

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand. 

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend. 

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at. 

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding. 

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made. 

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak? 

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately. 

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates. 

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother. 

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything. 

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach. 

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat. 

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be. 

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands. 

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate. 

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife. 

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell. 

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident. 

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment. 

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her. 

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband. 

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs. 

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear. 

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries. 

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war. 

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving. 

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue. 

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.” 

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter. 

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out. 

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel. 

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest. 

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child. 

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed. 

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help. 

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn. 

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together. 

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in. 

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor. 

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her. 

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile. 

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man. 

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where. 

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess. 

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes. 

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants. 

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance. 

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party. 

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal. 

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong. 

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself. 

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms. 

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway. 

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns. 

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly. 

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps. 

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement. 

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them. 

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier. 

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.” 

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms. 

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth. 

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again. 

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades. 

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously. 

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake. 

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.” 

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger. 

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?” 

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on. 

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek. 

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them. 

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth. 

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart. 

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again. 

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump. 

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus. 

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together. 

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena. 

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact. 

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent. 

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time. 

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain. 

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils. 

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood. 

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet. 

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck. 

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest. 

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest. 

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation. 

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her. 

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air. 

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair. 

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter. 

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement. 

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor. 

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief. 

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form. 

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god. 

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake. 

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x wife!reader #morpheus x wife reader #dream of the endless smut #dream of the endless x reader

[yuri-is-online]

I kinda wanna hear more about Azul! Yutu if you are willing

Very. He is long overdue for a proper post. I'm going to skip over some of the stuff that happens while he is in the bad future as I am a big fan of what Archivist has been writing, and would encourage you to look at their posts (here, here, and here) They've been a huge inspiration for this ayuu and finally gave Yutu some friends! I am really really attached to them and their dynamics with the various Yutus and might have written some stuff where they hang out but didn't post it because idk if you folks would be interested...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yuu started removing mirrors from the house when he was around nine. They did so slowly, and Yutu had been avoiding them for so long he barely notices when their gone. It's not like he was born hating himself, he remembers playing with Yuu in the garden hose or the bath tub and feeling... happy. But that was when he was a little kid, he's almost double digits now he shouldn't be feeling sick to his stomach about this. It feels hard to walk some days, like his balance is wrong and his body is made of the incorrect material. It isn't normal for a kid this young to hate his own bones because it is the bones isn't it? They're hard until their not hard enough and he's stuck in a cast for the summer. Yutu tries to be grateful it's on his arm and not his leg, but it doesn't keep his mind off of things. He feels unwhole every time he tries to walk, and he has no words to express what's missing other than to say he feels unsafe. And it's hard to say that when he knows there's no solution you can give him for what he's feeling. If you could cut off your own limbs to make him whole you would, but then that would leave him just as alone wouldn't it? The last cost Yutu wants to pay to fix himself is the life of parent who loves him.

But that's what the price ends up being. And as he lays there trying to scream only to be rejected by the air he'd spent so much time wasting as his body churns on the floor into the form he'd spent so much time dreaming of he has to wonder why he ever thought the outcome would be different. He should have known that he was never meant to be anything other than alone.

Yutu was a chunky baby, and for the first bit of his life no one minded that at all. He was so cute, Yuu had a bunch of pictures of their precious baby boy and even though there were questions about how he came to be those were sort of shoved to the side in favor of cooing over his cute nose and chubby cheeks. But the cooing turned to concern when he started having some problems reaching his developmental milestones; it took forever for him to learn how to walk, even when Yuu helped guide him through the motions it somehow just didn't seem to stick. Talking was difficult, he'd learned how easily enough but he just preferred not to, wanting to communicate through noises and looks instead. Yuu would try to calm their worries and focus on how he at least slept through the night, but they never did get a solid opinion on why Yutu was so slow to learn from any doctor they saw.

His slow development cause Yuu to really focus on going over his lessons with him at home, it fosters a love of learning in him that evolves as he grows. At first it's very innocent, his eyes are wide with childlike wonder at the world around him and his smile is as bright as his eyes. "Unfortunately" (because it's not truly unfortunate that his parent can still afford to feed him) he's still a chubby little boy, and one who is missing a parent so he's an easy target for his peers to isolate and tear into. He feels like a beached whale, or a dried up octopus, his self esteem is severely hurt as is his outlook on the world. Yuu feels like they are seeing a familiar sight when their child hiccups through recounting his day as they desperately try to hold back their anger and think of a way to deal with this logically.

"Your daddy went through this too." Yutu blows into the tissue you hold for him and tries to hide his surprise. He's always eager to learn about his father, you wish you could think of more to tell him but the words you're saying don't fully feel like you are thinking as you say them. It's like you are briefly being possessed by someone else, just that the "someone else" is... yourself from when you were whole. "He was really hurt by it, and he was one of the strongest people I knew. So it's ok if you need to cry about how you feel."

"I dooon't want to feel." He pushes his face up against your chest like he's a baby again trying to soothe his nightmare against yoru heartbeat and you squeeze him as tight as you can. "I want it to stop, can daddy tell me how to make it stop?" Your mind screams that however daddy handled it must have been bad, it turns to look at someone, you can just see the outline of him. He's handsome, well put together and he's... worried.

"I don't want them to be scared of everything; suspicious,̸̮͉͓͔͎̭̜̦̽̄̆̇̿̈́̍̉̽͌̍̕ͅͅ ̶̰̙͔̝͕̞͍̭͙͕̇͆͌̋̿̌͐̂̿͘̚͝y̷̨̪̳̳͉̮͚̅͗͗̽̔̂͐͌̽͠ę̶̩̣̤͚͎͔̯̖̭͐̃̏̓͐̾͐̓̎̇̅̊͐̕s̸͚̖͙̗̣̩̼͎̼͇̝͂̿̉̌͛̈͜ ̴͔̟̤̩̗̯̦̀͐̄̽̊͛͑͋͊͒̓̕͝b̵̧̧̡̰̪̫̤͔͚͕̝̠̹͈́̀̈́͌̄͋̔̿́̕͘ǘ̵̢̼͖̪̱͖̼̼͎̲͈͙͆̀̎͌̍̎̂͐͗̇͌̎̊̚ț̶̛͖̹͚̾̆̂͑̌̊̕ͅ ̴̢̛͇͙̱͇̝̺͇̗̫̘̥͛̀͊̅n̸̢̥͕͗̓e̴͙̹̹̘̮̫̦͐v̶̡̡̧̡̛͓̮̝̺̮̜̳̠̜̅͊̒̄̔͂̋͋͋̊̔̈́͆͘ë̷̟̳̲̰̗͉̬̘̘̣̳̼͙́̑͜ŗ̸̳̹̺͔̦͔̮̖̔͆̊̈́͆̈̔̊͠ ̶̧̢̩̺̗̗̲̠̬̰͇̣̦̈́͑͜͜p̶̱̗͔͔͌a̴̰͓̎͂̅̓̈̎͝r̶̯̰̪̟̾̾̓̂̈́͆̈̀̒̓̕͠ ̴͇̖͉̯̖̞͍͐́͊͛̐̂̐á̵̢͎̙͎́͝ ̸̨̙̞̙̩̮̺̦̻̗̭̩͉̱̠̐̓̿͘ń̷̡̡̡̧̨̪̜͕̠͐̄̉̐͝͠ő̸̥̹̣̙͛̏̏̃̋̍͝͠ḯ̶̢̛͍͔̯̤͊̈́̉̑̂̈̐͊̚̕ḋ̸̦̘̮͍͙̜͈̙͉͖̭͚̊͌͗̊̊̈̾̄͌ͅ ̵̛̛̠̫͙͎̘̣̘͕͗̒̈͒̓̅͊̔͘͝"

Yutu's silence brings you back to reality, he's mercifully fallen asleep against you and missed the aftershocks of your migraine. It's nothing new, but somehow this little scenario makes you feel that much more tired, and that much more alone.

I've mentioned it before but Yuu decides to enroll Yutu into martial arts classes as a way to help with his self confidence and the bullying. In my mind the end up doing it out of a worry that the bullying could get physical, and in the hopes that maybe Yutu will make friends with the kids in his class. It sort of works, Yuu enrolls them in a parent-child class and they certainly make some connections. Yutu finds some inner peace from the class, but his experiences at school make him very shy and keep him from truly opening up to the people around him. The friend groups he finds his way into never seem to fully accept him, a lot of it comes down to petty rivalries over sport and school. Yutu is smart sure, but he knows that no amount of talent makes up for hard work and he's a very hard worker. He's too proud to do something like throw a match or fail a test just for a little social acceptance, and not afraid to say as much.

That's not to say he doesn't want to be accepted, he does. He really deeply does he just doesn't think he could live if that acceptance was fake. Part of that, not that he ever tells Yuu this, is fueled by their descriptions of his father and of how much they loved him. If his dad was in the same position and found you then one day, he hopes, he'll find someone who accepts him too. And he'll make sure to stay alive and do all the little things with them they have ever wanted to do, no matter how out of his comfort zone or weird he finds them to be. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a hopeless romantic underneath his jock appearance, so he's one of the yutus that assumes his dad died in a tragic accident that left your memories in shambles. He's willing to fight people on that point, but Yuu made him promise not to and while he's fussy about listening to other people, he always listens to Yuu.

Which makes the trip between worlds that much harder on him. He might have been alone, but he wasn't exactly lonely. Not when he had a home to come back to and a parent who loved him, he could handle waiting for people who would accept him when he already had someone who did but now... It doesn't help that from his perspective he immediately does something stupid by getting put in Savanaclaw. Crewel already told him his dad was the dormleader of Octavinelle, that he was an exemplary student but not very... athletic so why would he be any different than anyone else. This isn't helped by the reception he gets from his dormmates. Yutu never starts fights, but he sure as hell finishes them and the amount of people left on the floor by the end of his first week makes everyone aware of that.

It earns him respect, and it would have immediately made him his first friend if he had been willing to take Sav at his word when he asked him to show him how he fought so well. Instead he insists on acting like Saitama and making the guy "prove" himself, something that Crewel watches from the sidelines with a weary expression. So his grandson wasn't lying, he really does take more after his dad than you.

He does not so much make other friends as they do make him theirs... two Heartslabyul students and an overly enthusiastic gamer from Ignihyde who sticks to him like a wet cloth and he hates the realization that he's worried about these guys. Sav, Thrush, Fiore, and... Mori. He loves these people. He hopes they never die, but everywhere he looks he sees omens. It hurts, he never knew he had three hearts or that he could fill them up with so much love that it wants to bleed out of him but he refuses to let it. He's learned that he's stronger than he ever thought possible, he'll squeeze a good outcome out of this, for you and for them it never had to be one or the other.

Traveling back in time and being separated from his friends terrifies him. Sav is always refusing to use his brain, what if he got lost because he decided not to read a sign somewhere? Fiore is a little shit and Thrush can't be assed to keep his brother in line what if they get thrown in jail and Yutu has to actively stop himself from thinking about Mori. The muscles in his chest go taut and he forgets to breathe until little black dots prick at his vision from all the ways things could go wrong for the self proclaimed "white mage of the FC party." The guy is just too much of a flight risk... he needs to fix this fast.

But does he? Having you alive again is like a dream, sure you're younger now and don't know him from a hole in the ground but he gets to see all of the memories he was so curious about. He's especially happy to have met Ace and Deuce, they remind him of his own Heartslabyul friends. His world feels a bit more full when he sits to eat a meal with you, guys who he guesses he'll probably end up calling Uncles at some point, and Grim. He's got mixed feelings about Grim, but the little guy really seems to like him now and it's funny to think about whether or not he's the older or younger brother. He's starting to remember what it's like to have a family again, speaking of which...

"Aww looks like you're a real dorm leader now ain't ya shrimpy?" Floyd's voice sounds fun, and it's all Yutu can do to keep from smiling. He instantly understands why Jade must have missed him so much, they looks alike but the difference in tempo is apparent from their stance and dress, and just looking at the younger version of his Uncle he can see how much more alive he feels.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Yutu was it?" Jade's smile suggests danger, he thinks the name is funny that's his guess. The glint in his eyes suggests he wants to tease, and Yutu prepares to make some comments of his own before he notices that his Uncle's attention is not on him but rather- "Floyd told us about your unexpected arrival," he has been avoiding this for so long he almost didn't see the familiar stranger next to Jade, the rest of his words are heard but not noted as he looks directly at his father for the first time. What a painful realization that is.

"Hey hey grouper, you ok?" Floyd's tone very much does not suggest worry but it brings him back to the present. Or would it be the past?

"Grouper? Might regret calling me that pool noodle. Yeah I'm fine, just surprised you came over here yourselves. I thought I was doing good keeping my nose where it belongs." Yutu swears Azul looks genuinely hurt for a second, but it disappears under his glasses and his patented grin.

"Well you certainty don't pull any punches do you?" If Yutu didn't know any better he'd assume his dad was... excited.

He is, he's very excited. Yuu is a kind hearted person and Azul loves them for it, but Yutu has some of that hater energy he knows he can work with. A second set of eyes on Yuu's world is just what Azul needs to win their ha- expand his business, so he keeps finding ways to talk to Yutu. He ends up learning a decent bit about him despite Yutu's best efforts: he's lying about his unique magic to catch people off guard when he uses it, he's not a muscle head nor does he take particular pride in his physique despite the intense amount of effort he puts into staying strong. It's interesting to watch the sort of things he likes to eat... sure a lot of it is healthy food but none of it is health food. That ends up being the first real conversation they have and it throws Yutu for a bit of a loop. It reminds him of that conversation he had with Yuu all those years ago when he was crying about being bullied. About how his dad gone through the same thing he did and suddenly his dad seems a bit more like a person and less like a shadow that's haunting him.

The way his dad looks at Yuu is breathtakingly soft. Azul is ambitious, talented, hardworking, and oh so desperate to impress that Yutu finds it hard to hear their doubts about the way he feels because he can see all of the signs clear as day about how Azul feels about Yuu. Uncle Jade's stories about how Azul was silly in his affections, the little ways he got excited when Yuu complimented him or how much of a show off he insisted on being around them are happening right in front of him and while he wonders about that little thing he always tried to avoid. The "could have been." Would his dad have agreed with Yuu's decision to enroll him in martial arts? Or would Azul have put him in a different school, would that even have been nessecary or would people be too afraid to make fun of his son? That promise Jade said Azul made to Yuu about never having to go hungry again... would he have kept it? Yutu never starved but he knows his parent did, what would Azul say if he knew? Would it break him? Would he even care?

These thoughts take a toll on Yutu. He can't keep pretending he isn't worried about his friends when he is trying to avoid thinking about his parent's relationship, and vise versa so he puts more effort into finding them. Thrush and Fiore are the easiest, they made their way to Craneport and established a base pretty quickly and are surprisingly not complete shits about him taking his sweet ass time to find them. Sav is though, the Scalding Sands is a long way away and getting him to Sage's Island proves to be tedious and expensive, of course he's going to complain and pick a fight when Yutu shows up again. He hates to admit it but it feels good to have his sparring partner back, it perks up his mood a tiny bit. But time beings to drag on with no signs of Mori, Yutu is getting more restless in his worries and clumsier in hiding where he's going. Sure he knows how to shake off a tailing eel, but an octopus? The only one he's ever known is himself.

Azul learns from his various contacts that Yutu has friends. He keeps his appearance under the hood, but his friend group is close and clearly working towards some sort of goal. None of the names he gets show up in any systems he has access to, Jade does his best to find a shred of evidence that these are people who exist and can't. It worries all three of the octotrio, this is a problem they need to get to the bottom of and fast. But before that can happen another one of those portals opens, this time outside Ramshackle Dorm while Azul is trying to spend some precious alone time with you. And the thing that comes out of it is terrifying.

The blot phantom is unlike anything Azul has ever seen, not in a textbook or in person. It's a misshapen mass of a person, clothing real but foul smelling and stained with ink.

"Use my phone to call the twins and get out of here as fast as you can." Azul doesn't like his chances alone, but he likes yours even less. You don't run, it brings just a bit of a smile to his face, but you still call Jade as Azul weaves ice around it's legs to try and keep it down. The monster howls squirming against the ice and screaming at him like he should understand what it's talking about. Azul tries to stare it down, tries to appear like he's a mage that belongs on the front lines and not a support. The best support but still, he's slow. Too slow to dodge the vine that whips out of the creature's back and speeds towards his heart but fast enough to catch the scream that tears from Yutu's throat.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY DAD YOU FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH!" Eight cosmic tentacles rip out of the ground and tear into the monster, Yutu's chest is heaving with the strain of bringing his full strength to bear as Azul pauses to collect himself. As Yutu finishes off the monster he goes over what he knows, looks at the boy in front of him and traces parts of himself in him and forgets his previous plans to expose him to Yuu as a fraud. When his child looks back at him, disguise knocked off and fear clear on his face the reason for the previous distance Yutu has been trying to maintain suddenly makes sense. Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

Azul likes to make plans. He planned how he would confess to Yuu (it did not go as planned but he still planned it) and he has clear ideas about the future he wants to have with them. Yutu was already a part of it, he's dreamed of having somewhere safe and full of love to come home to since he realized what his feelings for Yuu were. So to see that dream come to life, to have it crying in his arms about how someone else corrupted it into a nightmare and stole what he'd worked so hard to earn- Oh Azul is a petty and vindictive little bitch once he has gotten his own tears out of his system. He's extremely proud of all the work Yutu has already done towards ending the bad future, and while he is disappointed that he didn't think to ask for his help he is understanding. If he was in Yutu's position he doesn't know how he'd react, but he could see himself making similar choices.

He insists on having a family dinner so he can get to know all of the real things about Yutu from him instead of just observing them. He wants the three (and a half since Grim's there too) of you to cook together and just talk before getting down to the sad business that's brought Yutu here. Some of it's instinct to feed his child, but mostly he wants to prove to his son that he's worthy of being his father. That you chose him out of everyone for a reason, something Yutu sort of knows already but he's wanted to have his father in his life for so long that he plays up his nerves just a little bit so he can be spoiled by him.

Azul's reach is long, and combined with the twins finding where Mori is should be much easier. What worries Azul is the bad future and the little information Yutu tells him about how it started. He's never had any real reason to doubt what he knows about overblots, or to distrust the Headmage, or to think Grim could kill him. But if the world ends the economy does too, and he is not about to die before he's achieved everything he's been dreaming of. His ambition is almost scary, but Yutu can't bring himself to be afraid. This version of his father is the nicest one he's seen yet, and if it means anything to anyone, he'd like to keep him just as much as Azul wants him too.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #idk if i like this post :/ #bleh as i told archivist i accidentally got attached to doomed yaoi w mori and azul! yutu to the point the only way i could convince yutu #to let me finish the last half of this post was putting on the fucking our life soundtrack #otherwise i was stuck drawing a blank #what a little jerk >:c

[totheblood]

hi!! would you consider writing reader x ellie one shot where ellie is oblivious while reader keeps flirting with her lol. thank you so much and i hope u have nice rest of the day/night <3

thick skull

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: bad writing?? maybe.. idk how to flirt soooo

summary: you are really bad at flirting and ellie thinks it very cute.

a/n: i am getting to the requests, slowly but surely. i hope u all like it and leave me some feedback! i truly am really bad at flirting though so this was a challenge soooooo yeah, thank u anon for the request.

you didn't think ellie was dumb.

but a part of you was now starting to think that she had missed every hint that you were throwing her way. forget batting your eyelashes or purposefully pushing your shirt down when talking to her, she just did not seem to get it.

a sick part of you started to worry that maybe you were the idiot and she had known the entire time but that was her subtle way to reject you. you had also known that wasn't true.

you had saw ellie walking down the road from your window and rushed out to join you.

"ellie! wait up!" you called out for her, tripping over your boots as you tried to put them on as you caught up to her. upon seeing you she gave you a warm smile, sizing you up.

"did you just wake up?" she asked as she slowed her step to walk in line with you.

"no, i saw you through the window and i missed you so i thought we could catch up." you offered her a smile back as you kicked some snow beneath your feet.

"you missed me?" she chuckled, smirking to her self. "you just saw me yesterday."

"' 's still way too long," you blinked up at her "needed my ellie fix immediately after you left."

"you're too nice to me." she brushed her shoulders against yours, before holding open the door to the diner.

"you say that too much." and she did, it was almost always what she said whenever you said something remotely flirty to her.

"your hands are cold, let me warm them up for you."

"you're too nice to me."

"that shirt looks really good on you, ellie"

"you're way too nice to me. wanna borrow it?"

"you're cute when your angry."

"yeah, cause i'm never angry at you."

one time she had made you a bracelet out of scrap material she had found, when she found out you were still wearing it months after she gave it to you she brought it up again.

"you're still wearing the bracelet i made you?" she asked, making you glance down at your wrist.

"oh yeah, it's like my good luck charm." you could practically feel the heat in your cheeks.

''haha... sick." was all ellie said before returning to wiping down the counter not knowing that was your last straw.

"sick? are you serious?" you practically spat making ellies head shoot upwards, confusion evident on her face.

"i mean..." ellies eyes darted around looking for anything that could possibly help her. "it's cool that you are still wearing it. i really appreciate it."

"it's not just cool? it's cute, i'm trying to be cute." if ellie looked confused before, she couldn't possibly fathomed what she looked like right now.

"you don't really have to tr-" ellie started.

"do you not like me back or something because this is becoming exhausting? i flirt with you and then you tell me that i'm too nice to you or some shit like that like i'm not practically throwing myself at you every second of every day. it's embarassing." you managed to get all of it out but were quickly disappointed when you saw ellie laughing.

"you were flirting?"

"don't laugh at me."

"baby, i'm not laughing at you, i'm laughing at how stupid i've been." you would be lying if you didn't say the sudden use of the nickname didn't make your stomach flutter.

"you seriously didn't notice?" you asked, your confidence now completely gone.

"nope." she replied, popping the 'p'. "you're lucky you're so cute because you really suck at flirting."

"no i do not."

"you totally do."

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams imagine #tlou 2 #the last of us part two

[hmshermitcraft]

Bdubs is rich, rich enough that he doesn't know what to do with his money. He doesn't want a big house, he doesn't like how gaudy rich decor is, he still has his junkyard pickup from highschool and he'll only replace it when it catches fire (again). He got a full scholarship to college and got a great job right after graduating.

Etho...isn't poor, ok? He's just, modest. He's got a little apartment that's water tight and cozy. he doesn't need a car, skateboards to work and college and he has enough excess money to buy himself a little treat every week. it's senior year, he's living as good as he can.

They ran into each other doing Etho's commute. "Ran into each other" meaning Etho didn't look both ways and Bdubs' shitty breaks can only break so fast, so Etho's day was put on hold because getting hit by a truck is uh, uncomfortable.

He's not dead, just a little fucked up, especially his leg. It doesn't hurt right now but he knows it will based on the angle. He's lying dazed on the pavement when Bdubs reaches him, "FUCK ARE YOU OK OMG IM SO SORRY"

Bdubs brings him to the hospital and surprisingly waits for him to be all fixed up. Then Bdubs covers his medical fees even though he really didn't need to. It's Etho's fault he was hit after all.

Obviously with a broken leg Etho can't get to work, which he tells Bdubs in passing while he's driven home. "O no worries, tell me your schedule I'll take you."

"I can just get a taxi it's no biggie."

"I'm offering u a free ride."

"very correct, lemme see your phone I'll text you."

And so friendship.

And then more???? Idk man I was almost hit by a car today lmao

-carrie

Where Bdubs won't spend on himself, he certainly would on Etho. If the man let him. He's offered to buy Etho a car, to replace anything that got damaged in the crash, even to pay for any missed work.

The most Etho agrees is the medical bills and a new skateboard. He won't even accept a bike! He only accepted the medical bills because he 'has enough student loan debt' (Bdubs offered to pay for that too. Etho at least considered it for a little longer.)

It takes a while until they meet comfortably in the middle. Etho will happily take a ride from Bdubs - as long as Bdubs lets him contribute fuel money. It motivates Bdubs to actually get a decent ride at some point, though he keeps the pick up.

Most importantly, Etho gets more than one treat a week now. No matter how frugal Bdubs tries to be, it all falls apart when he's presented with sweet treats. They could even call them dates.

#hermitshipping #ask #etho tag #bdoubleo tag #ethubs #carrie anon #mod 🎀 #weekly theme: rich & poor #oh my gosh i hope you're okay!!!

[chaithetics]

frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation. 

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant. 

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections. 

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy. 

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood? 

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical. 

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them. 

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you. 

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying. 

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors. 

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes? 

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would. 

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile. 

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing. 

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle. 

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap. 

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him. 

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer. 

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know. 

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground. 

“Something will stick eventually.” You say. 

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject. 

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him. 

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you. 

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you. 

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal. 

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile. 

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is. 

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination. 

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now. 

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.” 

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink. 

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off. 

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces. 

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt. 

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did. 

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats. 

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile. 

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm. 

It’s intentional. 

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body. 

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him. 

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things. 

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is. 

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that. 

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain. 

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time. 

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second. 

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe. 

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway. 

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other. 

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would. 

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting. 

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out. 

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.  

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well. 

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you. 

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.” 

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming. 

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks. 

“Or something.” You whisper back. 

“I’ll read that.” He says. 

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory.  Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

#norm maclean x reader #norm maclean #norm maclean x f reader #norm maclean fallout #fallout series #fall out amazon #fallout fanfic #fallout tv series #fallout #fallout fanfiction #norman maclean #norman maclean x reader #norm maclean fluff #fallout x reader #fallout imagine #norm maclean imagine #moisés arias #moisés arias characters #did you get the mitski references? #could you tell i was depressed while writing half of this? #mitski inspired #fallout prime #fallout show

[yatorihell]

Noragami Chapter 109 Thoughts and Reaction

First off a massive thank you to @fast-moon for years of dedicated service to the fandom and answering our questions. You have been the pillar of the community from the moment you picked up the series.

Now onto my (second) read reaction and thoughts

Seeing Yuka and she's aged more and she's looking at the sakura tree thinking of her brother just like Yato told Yukine she would I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

WHO LEFT THE FLOWERS could it have been Yato? Could it have been Yuka unwittingly placing them to remember her brother not knowing it's actually Haruki's grave? I'm so sad

Oh when it said another new year and we're at the hospital I'm so sad and then it turns out it's been many years!!!!!

The Capyper and star sticker as an earring? Remnants of attachment to Yato? Earring like Kazuma? Thank you Doctor Iki? Killing myself

Oh I really expected her diary to show up and then it does but Nora has it I'm so sad

The fact Hiyori's whole memory of that year is fuzzy so she doesn't remember Capyperland, and probably her grandma's death and the hospital arc and so many other bits

CPR SO INTENSE IT CRACKED HER RIBS

Oh she's touching her lips as she wonders who saved her I'm so fucking miserable Adachitoka you make me so sad are you happy

Jumpscared by hot Fujisaki I forgive you <3

Fujisaki gained control of his body and immediately fixed those bangs hejdjj

Remnants of Father's yearning to see Kaya again sorry babe she wasn't your girl maybe you'll find one that looks like her

Coo phone attack jdjdjnd that was so funny I can't believe he actually came back I was reaching with that prediction

My god I know it's not Father and he's cute now but I still hurled when he asked her out

Rip Masaomi's hairline, they say unproblematic men age better, so what crimes did you commit

Also rip Mr Iki you've aged so much it's probably the stress, but he's still got his medical license!!!!!!

Also I've been told it's been 8/9 years since that day with her being an intern now, it makes you wonder if Masaomi started a family

I MISS SOMEONE BUT WHO?

I actually couldn't believe how many of the bingo card predictions were coming true when I got to the sakura party jsjdnjf we truly manifested this ending

Little Ebisu growing up you will live forever you <3

Takemika and Kiun showing up like two dads with their children and pet bird jdjbdjfk

Takemika reassuring Shinatsuhiko that no one's laughing about their reincarnation vs Takemika bullying Ebisu in Heaven about killing him I hate growth I hate it (affectionate)

Followed by Takemika owning the fact that he himself has reincarnated when it was kept secret for so long I'm so sad

Oh Adachitoka you're so sick faking us out with a toast to Yato like he's dead followed by Bishamon once again beating the shit out of Yato at a sakura party

It's so funny Yato wouldn't release Kazuma but tbf it's handy if he ever needs to use him again

I wonder if Kazuma is treated differently now that he's a stray, or if he could suppress the name physically (it would only show if he got called like Nora did)

This Houki shinki that's a pegleg gun???? Rendered us bamboozled double checking Bishamon didn't lose a leg

Yato please find Yukine some clothes that fit????? Or maybe they're loose so they don't tear when he transforms and they can go back for them idk I don't like this look

Yato disappearing into the ground and becoming known as Teke-Teke he is the living meme hejdjb

I'm so sad Yukine has nightmares and turns into ayakashi form every night and Yato's wearing a Capyper jumper and he's hugging him

I did wonder if Hiyori's diary was on the shelf with the shrine, which begs the question when did Yato go to retrieve the shrine???? I'm so sad he would've seen that she fixed it and maybe it's a but scuffed from where it was dropped but it's his

Yato following Hiyori to keep her safe and he didn't want to cut ties I'm so sad the cord problem was enough to divorce her from the far shore without severing them altogether

I JUST WANT TO WATCH OVER HER AS SHE GROWS I'm so fucking miserable

Nora comforted by the fact Hiyori believes she had a name when she was in the womb? Devastated how did we never think of that

Interesting that the Yuuki name remains even after the word was destroyed, but it means that Yukine can't sting Yato so silver linings

Yato still doing his regular job of slaying and answering small prayers

Cherry blossoms being like snow I'm so fucking emo

THE NIGHT HAS A SCENT

YATO'S SHADOW IN THE TREE

MY. MOUTH. REMEMBERS!!!!!!

Oh I'm so fucking miserable I'm so fucking sad I hate this manga she remembered him all on her own after all this time and she's a doctor and everyone's safe I'm so depressed we're gunna celebrate April 2nd we need to work out what year it will be when she remembers

The final art????? Of all of them happy???? Hiyori is a doctor???????? Nora is with them??? Smiling??????? I'm ending it

It's been such a ride for these last 9 years since I picked up the anime and then demolished the manga right in time for season two. I've made friends and I've enjoyed building this blog into something that people used for their Noragami content. In the words of the rats this truly was my noragami

#noragami #yato #yatori #noragami aragoto #yukine #hiyori #bishamon #kazubisha #kazuma #goodbyenoragami

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hiii, I love how we all collectively want to be part of the band so again, band member reader. This request is a little more angsty :)) I wanted to request break up headcanons for the twins, or a twin of your choice. Let's say that even though they love each other a lot the pressure from being on tour and having practically no private life makes them fight a lot. It would be nice if you could include how the breakup affects the order in the band too.

This here is optional. Idk if you're down to write for older twins, but maybe after the huge break TH took between 2012 and 2014 it served as enogh time being away from each other and when they meet again they feel like it's time to give the relationship a second chance

(Hello! Sure I can and ty for requesting, I hope you enjoy this even if it sucks!)

Breakup and Makeup HC'S

Bill Kaulitz

Bill truly loved being on tour and famous

But if he knew it would cause this, he didn't know if he would do it again

He loves you so badly and he loved being so close to you

But being on tour greatly affected your relationship

There was no privacy on the bus, there was no room, there were arguments and there was bickering

Sure there was that before, but that was small gigs and before being enclosed in a space every day and every night

He hates arguing with you in the first place

But now arguments were everyday

You and him didn't talk much anymore, only bickering and yelling and he hates it

He missed being close to you and doing everything you guys loved together

But stress, pressure and the tour outmatched love you guys had for one another

He didn't want to, but you guys needed a break

It was hard especially because of the tour and you guys still had to be around one another

You guys used to be best friends before dating

And you guys agreed to go back to how that was, no bad blood, just a mutual decision to break things off for now

Especially with shit going on in their break and having to stop being Tokio Hotel for a bit

The breakup did affect the band

There was always some unspoken tension everytime you guys were in a room

They could see how it affected both you and Bill even if you guys didn't want to show it

Gustav comforted you a lot along with Tom and Georg and they do the same for Bill

They didn't choose sides in the breakup because you're all still friends and it was no fault

They just hated seeing you guys upset

Tom felt like murdering Bill because he thought be broke up with you for no reason at first until you explained

Then he felt bad for his twin because he knows how much Bill loved you

Bill actually resented the tour and a bit of fame for doing this to your relationship but he knew that wasn't healthy

When you guys get your time away from one another it doesn't really help

Because it just makes you guys miss one another more

And when you see each other again it just feels like you guys are stuck when you broke up

But in a good way, like you guys can move and and hopefully fix this

And Bill hopes you guys can because he doesn't want to live without you any longer

Tom Kaulitz

The breakup actually hit harder than you expected

It got a bit toxic I'm not going to lie

Arguments with you guys are very loud and heated to the point you guys didn't talk to each other

You guys hate arguing but were stressed, overwhelmed and had literally no space

And that isn't healthy for either you guys or the band

Tom loved you very much, he knew that and so did you

But love didn't really out match nor face everything going on in your lives

You guys needed privacy and couldn't get any and that was a big fact on why you broke up

The breakup was an impulsive decision yelled out in an argument

It could be about anything but that's the moment like everything changed and stopped

There was some sort of tension and resentment you both held towards the other

Especially when the band took that long break with everything happening

But you guys were still on tour, broken up before the break

I feel Tom was sorta trying to get his mind off of you or replace you in some way he could

Either by flirting or going out with girls and bragging about it

He turned sorta into a dick trying to rile you up when he really just wanted you back

You didn't do anything about it but was sorta hurt but wouldn't let him see

The band felt bad for you guys and Bill felt like killing Tom for what he was doing

He understood why he did it and tried to get you guys to at least talk it out

Gustav was trying his best to be there for both of you guys while Georg was trying to mend the tension

You and Tom barely spoke before you broke up but now you don't talk at all

Even when you guys all had that break

Tom slowed down with trying to replace you, stopping everything because he quite literally could not

By toxic earlier I meant you guys sorta still clung onto the belief you guys were dating

Like hugs, kisses, makeouts and even hidden hookups to try and cling onto the strings of your broken down relarionship

Obviously it didn't work at all but you guys still wanted to believe

You missed him so fucking much and he missed you the same

When you guys put the band back together Tom sorta matured and was trying to mend things with you

Everything went slow and you guys were best friends since childhood before dating so you sorta went back to that

But best friends now with lingering feelings

Tom and you both confessed about these feelings but didn't want to ruin it all over again

So you guys took it a bit slower

You guys didn't jump right at it, but didn't get with anyone else to not ruin it again

And slowly but surely, you guys worked back to how it used to be

But you mended the mistakes and came back better than before

And Tom would never let it happen again

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel imagine #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #tokio x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #gustav schafer #gustav schäfer #georg listing #georg

[wolfsbane44]

-- Rescue Me--

Summary: Bellamy x Reader. Bellamy rescues you from Mt Weather, knowing you need to get to Clarke. He loves you and will do anything to protect you, and make you happy...including taking you for the first time in the forest.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Implied harm, implied entrapment and kidnapping, Scars, Mental health, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, voyeurism, swearing.

I have never done anything with the Reader involved, so It may be a little rough around the edges (or really rough idk lol- but let me know where I can improve)

You and Bellamy had been hiking for miles. With Mt Weather as far as you could put it at your back. So far the Grounders had left you in peace but you weren't sure they wanted to do with anything that came from the mountain. You needed to get to Clarke as fast as you could, but the last time you saw her she was not the same. Lexa dying had changed her, made her into something that no one wished to see. Wanheda had been unleashed, there was no stopping her, she wouldn't even listen to those of us who came down first.

Bel wanted us to stop to find some water and a place to sleep for the night. You were not objecting, especially when he found a small freshwater spring. It was the dead of summer and had to be at least a hundred degrees, and you hadn't seen a shower in lord knows how long. They kept you below. Using your blood and others like you to fix their people. You had been on the Ark with them all, but there was something different in your blood, they would take and take for tests and experiments. Not giving it to their citizens but to their soldiers. They had done this for months now. Scars riddling your arms and legs from the countless needles and restraints they kept you in. 

“Breathe sweetheart” Bel whispered. He could see the terror in your eyes as the memories flooded back into your head. He was the one who had saved you. Your knight in shining armor… if that even existed anymore. He had learned what they were doing to you but knew he couldn't take you out immediately. He had to have a plan, otherwise, he would end up in the cages with you. Every day he brought me fresh food and water. Risking being caught, but he never missed one day. You thought that was honesty the only thing that kept you sane. 

Stripping off your clothes and getting into the spring was agonizing. It wasn't blissful like people talk about after a “hard day's work” -whatever that was, you had only had a hard life, no breaks- there was no relaxing as you stepped in. The cold waters pierced your bones and your still-healing wounds ached. “Let me help you,” he said reaching his hand out to yours. He was already undressed. This was the first time you had seen all of him. But he had seen you like this every day. Shame washed over your face as you pulled away from him. He didn't push further.

Sinking into the water finally, you let yourself be scrubbed clean. You weren't arguing as you were so sore you could barely move. He let you float in the water as long as you needed, although he got out to wash our clothes. They were all you had other than an extra pair of socks and underwear, and the supplies in the bag that Bellamy had brought. Ration bars, canteens, and a knife. He started a fire in hopes that the smoke would keep the bugs away for the night but kept it small in fear of being spotted. Set his traps for small game praying we wouldn't have to eat rations. You got out and put on your clean underwear as you waited for your clothes to dry. It wouldn't be long with the wind blowing in over the valley.

Bellamy had offered to take the first watch but he never woke you up for yours. He knew you needed sleep, especially after watching you thrash all night- dreaming of lord knows what they did to you that you hadn't told him. It hurt him to see you like this, he knew there was nothing he could do to take this pain away. So he did the only thing he knew how to do, hide and protect you. He had done if for his sister on the Ark, and after falling head over heels for you he would do anything for you down here too. Sunrise came slowly. Bellamy heard a twig snap and immediately woke you up. 

With his hand pressed against your mouth, you woke up screaming. It brought back too much, pure panic rushed in your body. You met his stare, his eyes gleaming with nothing but protection and love for you. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you but he wanted you to be able to run if need be. Following him to do what he called a “Perimeter sweep” he discovered it was his trap that had been sprung. A fresh rabbit lay on the ground, still twitching as if its nerves still fighting for its life. Like you had been. 

Bellamy ended it swiftly for the poor creature but you couldn't watch. He let you go back and float in the spring again while he prepared the meat. The small fire was just enough to cook the rabbit. It had been at least a month since you even smelled cook meat, let alone tasted it. Your mouth watered. He cooked your portion first, bringing it to you and letting you enjoy those last few minutes before you had to start hiking again. 

If you were able to keep the pace you were at, you would be able to reach Arkadia by nightfall. Bellamy walked hand in hand with you even singing to you to make the time pass. To make you think of anything other than fear. Stopping for a break around midday, you saw sweat glistening off of him. Taking his shirt off to cool down you saw the muscles that lined his beautiful torso. He caught you enjoying yourself and taking him all in. 

Walking over to you he stooped down and placed a kiss on top of your head, then your nose, and finally your mouth. It wasn't long before his hands found their way into your shirt. Begging him to take it off, as you could see the fire in his eyes. He wanted you, all of you, right here and now. Your kiss hardened and turned passionate, tongues clashing he picked you up and set you on his lap, and you wrapped your legs and arms around him. 

You could feel his length hardening beneath you. The wetness pooling at your core. The ache in your stomach, longing for him to fill you up. He could sense it as he picked you up and laid you on your back in one swift but gentle motion. His body pushing against yours he only stopped to take off your pants. His eyes went straight to your core “Fuck sweetheart, all of that for me” he whined. His eyes meeting yours, all you could do is say “Bel… Please” and he knew what that meant. He was so gentle with you always making sure you were okay. Sitting between your legs he traced one long line up your slit with his tongue. Pure bliss washed over you, you hadn't felt this way in a long time. Before you could think anymore his mouth had begun to ravage you. His tongue flicked small circles on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance, making sure you would be ready to take him. Slowly he pushed one inside, then another, and you moaned “Bellamy, fuck me please!” pumping a couple more times touching that perfect spot inside you he pulled you close into a kiss.

Reaching for his belt, then his zipper, you pulled his member out as fast as you could. He was above average, but not so big that he would hurt you. He was perfect. Pumping him with your hands a few times he pushed you back and lined himself at your entrance. Passing a glance to check on you, you nodded and he slowly pushed inside of you. All the way to the hilt. Pleasure washed over you as the very tip of him kissed the spot inside that he knew would send you over the edge. He started thrusting slowly. He didn't want to just fuck you. He wanted to love you. This was your first time with him and he wanted you to enjoy it, feeling all of him. He lifted your legs up, positioning your knees by your chest, his hands pushing down on the backs of your thighs and helping him balance. He began slamming into you. White washed over your eyes and ringing pierced your ears before you could tell him you were close. 

Coming back down his hand began making small circles on your clit. He fucking loved seeing you this way, seeing you ride out your high with him buried deep inside you. You were so close to cumming again when you saw his breath stagger. “Come in me” you begged him. You needed to feel his warmth inside of you. Just as you felt that seed spill into you, your own high washed over you sending you back into oblivion. His pumping slowed and came to a halt. He lowered your legs and began cleaning you up. He thanked himself for bringing some hygiene supplies because his thick white cum poured out of you dripping down your bottom. 

You let him clean you and help you get dressed, you both knew you needed to start hiking again if you were going to make it home in time. “That was the hottest shit I have seen in a while Bellamy” came from the trees. Eyes spinning around. Murphy. He really sat there and watched it all. No embarrassment washed over you but relief as you ran to hug him. You had no idea how he escaped the mountain. He was your best friend and had been since you had been imprisoned in the Ark. You never had a thing for him but you could see how pissed Bel was that he watched.

“How about next time I join in” Murphy jokingly shouted from ahead the trail. You smirked at Bellamy knowing this was going to be a long hike home.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #bellamy smut #bellamy x reader #forest

[sluttyhollow]

Kindly requesting a pt. 2 to your not my n*gga fic☝️🤧😮‍💨

I was thinking like… what’s the dude version of Baby Tate’s Slut Him Out and then I remembered what it was

“Aye, and that shit’s so wet I took the rubber off can’t even use it”

Toji Fushiguro x Black!F Reader

Part 1

Warnings: smut, breeding/ovulation sex, baby mating press, rough sex, dom and sub dynamics (?) but not explicitly mentioned or described, baby trapping/pregnant reader (reader is ok with it but doesn’t explicitly say it), wormy being used as a bondage tool but you can’t see him (😭), spit as lube, no prep entry but reader is wet (no pain), pet names (baby; pretty) Toji being toxic, Toji abandons Megs with you for a few weeks (for a good reason), reader smacks Toji, fem bodied reader with no pronouns, reader gets picked up, Megumi being Megumi, fluffy ending!, let me know if I missed anything, reader implied black but no descriptors

I— idk it’s just a quickly written dirty nasty smut with no plot really 😭 pls I hope you enjoy

18+ no minors

To be fair, you should’ve known what the fuck he was on when he kept you holed up in his room that first night for hours. Not letting you stumble back into the four walls of your own apartment until the sun had already started peeking across the horizon line.

He’d kept his promise though, spent his “hard earned”, you still didn’t know what the fuck he did, money on taking you and keeping you satisfied. Then taking you back to his apartment and adding onto your satisfaction by stuffing you full of him. It was always him consuming you, because that’s how he was. Like a fire that instead of burning you the closer you got to it, slowly wrapped itself around you until it permeated every inch of you consuming you completely. But the tipping point was the knock on your door at 2 AM one Friday morning. Peeking through the peephole you saw his body taking up the space and opened your door to ask him what he wanted when you saw a small tuft of black hair move just outside of your peripheral vision drawing your attention to the small boy who stood in front of you.

“Who are you?” A small voice asked, bored little face looking between you and Toji, who now that you were staring at them both, was this kids father.

“Funny enough buddy, I was going to ask you the same thing” you smiled at him, before glaring at his dad and moving to let the two inside your apartment before the neighbors got nosey. Fixing the television so Megumi, who so generously introduced himself when his dad didn’t, would be distracted long enough for you to cuss his father out.

“What the fuck Toji, why are you here and why the fuck did you bring your son here at 2 AM” trying not to raise your voice in and effort to not disturb Megumi. Toji still hadn’t explained himself and was staring down at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Is that any way for you greet your man sweetheart, it’s only been a few days since you’ve seen me, did I not fuck your attitude away good enough” pissed wasn’t enough to describe the way you were feeling. Not only had he dragged his young son awake and into the streets in the wee hours of the morning, he was playing in your fucking face like you were a joke.

“Get the fuck out my house and out my fucking face on this bullshit Toji, I have work in the morning” pushing him back and beginning to walk out your kitchen you were quickly stopped by the block of a man stepping in your path.

“Quit playin with me y/n if you loose the attitude I’ll talk to you, before then “imma play in your face” cause you acting like Gumi when he doesn’t get a nap” in your defense, your hand moved faster then even your own brain could comprehend. Sending Toji’s head off to the side with its impact, the sound reverberating around the small space and into the living room causing a unhidden mix of a chuckle and scoff to fall from the young boy in the other room.

Scared. Yep, you were scared and that’s all there was to it. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at your face. Just picked you up taking you back into your room, while telling Megumi to flip off the light cause they were spending the night over here. Then he closed your door dropping you into the middle of your bed and standing at the door of it finally looking at you, assessing his next move. The pajamas, if you could call them that, a loose crop top with some shorts, had risen during your fall to the bed exposing your unbound breast to him. Emphasized by the deep breaths and rapid beating of your heart. You were too nervous to reach up and readjust it, opting to sit beneath the depths of his gaze as your body warmed all over to his silent attentions. Having Toji’s eyes on you, like this, with that intensity with in them was overwhelming. He was making you feel like you were on top of the world while simultaneously feeling like the smallest being alive. He stood there a few minutes before making a move toward you.

Grabbing your shirt from the front and pulling at it, he ripped it off your body before doing the same to the shorts you had on leaving you bare. You felt your body warm as he roved the expanse of your body before his eyes met yours again. Licking across his lips he pulled back, thick arms crossing over each other as he started talking

“You think you gone disrespect me in front of my son because you didn’t get your way immediately y/n. You know better than that”

“Tsk I didn’t even mea-“

“Lose the attitude, final warning baby” his hands finally dropped, grabbing the base of his shirt pulling it over his head. Chiseled chest and toned stomach being exposed to you piece by piece as he went. Dropping the garment to the floor before repeating the same action with his pants.

“Go to hell bro, I’m fucking tired of you fr Toji. You think fucking can fix everything, get the fuck out” before you could open your mouth to spit more aggressive words at him, your cheeks were being squeezed between two of his thick fingers “only if I can take you there with me pretty” and with that you felt a fat glob of spit fall into your hole then he was bottoming out in the tight wetness your cunt was providing him pulling the throatiest moans from the both of you. Grabbing each of your thighs with one of his hands he folded them back until yours knees touched the bed on either side of your ears, presenting your pussy in the perfect position for him to stuff it full of his cum.

Toji had enough of your attitude, he spoils you, takes care of you more than he had done for anybody, including Gumi’s mom but your smart ass mouth was always moving. Retracting his hips from their space settled against the swell of your ass he thrust back into you at full force. While the act would typically create a painful but delicious ache in the pit of your belly from the repeated assault your poor pussy was taking but, ovulation had you angling your hips just that much more perfectly to accommodate his rough thrust. As kept his momentum up, you began to drift into the land of being completely drunk on his cock. Seeing that you were distracted Toji reached out to grab your arms and pull them towards your head board. A seemingly slimy sensation moving across your body and up your arms shocked your senses but believing it was just his wet tongue you brushed it off. However, the feeling made its way around both of your wrist before seemingly locking itself in place, that had your eyes popping open to meet Tojis smiling face. Your eyes trying to look toward whatever bound your wrist together and failing.

“Just needed a little help keeping you still for me baby don’t worry” And his hips kept going, just a little rougher finally pulling your first orgasm from you. It was quick, unannounced and had you squirting across the base of his stomach. Making a quick exit from your warmth he gripped himself and rubbed his tip across your clit to prolong the messy action. Immediately ramming himself back into you after, pace as unrelenting as before. A ring forming around his base as your cum collected there. If he kept this place up your body would be giving into another orgasm faster then it did before. Not being able to take the rapidly increasing pleasure consuming your body you tried scooting your body away from him a whine falling from your throat when he kept you in place.

“Nuh uh pretty, we’re making a baby tonight, you gone take this fat dick however I decide to give it you, stay fucking quiet before you wake Gumi up, that’s what you want hmm, want your new son walking in on you being used like the little breeding bitch that you are, want him to see how his little sibling was made, cause I’m not going to stop even if the fucking brat wakes up” you hated how you clenched around his length at his words. Shame filling your body because you first and foremost forgot about the adorable little boy who was hopefully passed out on your couch by now and two his words sent you into your second orgasm. Taking every ounce of remaining willpower inside of his body he pulled out again gifting your pussy with four hard smacks, the moan you’d been holding in came out loudly, before once again spearing you on his legnth.

He was close, for all his bravado Toji was still just a pussy drunk man who wanted nothing more than to fill his pussy with cum. He couldn’t wait for his seed to take, so he could come back from his missions to you waiting on him, stomach hanging perfectly round with his baby. Yeah you couldn’t deny him then, you’d be stuck with him forever. You’d keep gumi safe, you’d keep his new baby safe and in return he’d do the same to you.

Quickening his pace he finally allowed himself to spill himself inside of you. Heavy hand finally dropping your legs back to the bed as your arms were released from whatever had kept them bound. Rolling you both onto your sides so he could stay buried within you, he wrapped you close to his chest.

“Gotta call from Gumi earlier saying he ran out of food cause his mom hadn’t been home, I tried looking for her but just went to pick him up, I need you to watch him while I go look for her, might take a few weeks”

“Okay” You didn’t have the energy to say much else and you believed what Toji was saying. You’d deal with the rest in the morning. For now you just wanted to sleep.

*1 month later*

You and Megumi were thick as thieves and if you asked him, he liked you more than he’d ever liked either one of his family. That had the boy quickly dubbing you as one of his parents. Which in his words “daddy said you’d be my new parent anyways since you’re bringing me a little sibling” to which you rolled your eyes because of course Toji said that, speaking of… a knock on your door pulled you both from the activity you’d been working on. Opening the door, there revealed Toji, noticing a few new scars gracing his body as he made his way into the room you and Megumi were in. Ruffling the boys head, earning a glare from him, he pulled you in for a quick kiss before opening his mouth to say

“Missed me baby? I missed you” signature crooked smile pulling on his lips as his hand dropped down to your stomach pressing flat against it “and how’s my baby” rolling your eyes you moved away from trying to hold back your smile and keep the nonchalant face about you. “Nobody missed you but Gumi. But, WE are doing fine” face cracking as your smile flittered across your face.

#shwrites #x black reader #drabble #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji x black reader #shwritestojifushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

[aokoaoi]

im sorry, my love.

pairing : shuri x fem!reader.

author's note : the way the requests contain angst and my main fav genre to write is fluff goodbye😭 also very short because I am very lazy rn<\3 beginning is very cringe idk

request by : @heyitslee

Shuri lost a literal gold.

She lost the only person she had left who she truly cared. Things were hard between both of you the past months. You two were stressed, you'd often argue alot to the point voices were raised until throats began to hurt.

You were so precious. She loved you so much, and yet she let you go. How could she let you go. She couldn't even bare the sight of you packing your things in front of her, harshly opening the doors to your shared bedroom as you stormed out.

She can still remember it clearly. The broken look on your face as tears slowly cascaded down your cheeks as you packed your things.

She should've tried communicating with you instead of yelling and fighting all the time.

She should've treaded you better. If she had, then you would've still be with her, in between her arms as you hummed your favorite lullabies to her.

Shuri missed you so much. Every day and night. She tried getting her mind off of you by drawing herself more into her work, but of course it didn't work.

She's spent countless nights all alone in the cold, clinging onto the sheets you both shared desperately. The room was beginning to lose your scent as well, and soon, she'll forget most qualities you had as well.

Shuri hoped you weren't experiencing the feelings she had right now. She hopes you were happy somewhere in the city, still chasing your dreams with the smile she oh so loved so much.

And you were. You were happy. Happy with someone else.

She saw you walking in the streets, picking out fruits selling by the side with someone standing beside you. You gave then the look you always gave her when you're in your own world.

The same glimmering stars in your eyes shining in adoration. Your sweet laughs aching in her ears when you heard your new lovers jokes. All the things you did with her, were now happening with someone else.

You looked so happy with them. It made her think if that could've been you and her if she tried harder. It pained her but at the same time, seeing you happy relaxed her.

At least you weren't miserable like what she is right now.

She could vividly remember yours words when you last saw eachother. After you stormed out of the palace. After she pleaded you not to go after realizing her wrongs.

'Don't go, please, my love. Let me fix this!'

'This isn't working, shuri. We can start over. on our own. It's time you focus on yourself, shuri. Nothing is more important than yourself. We've given eachother so many chances but it has never worked.'

'You don't mean that—'

'If we truly loved eachother, this wouldn't be happening right now. I'm sorry shuri, but you're gonna have to let me go.'

How can she let you go? Did she really not love you enough to make you stay?

#fanfic #reader insert #character x reader #black panther wakanda forever #fanfiction #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri black panther #shuri x reader #—aoifics

[airenyah]

Get to Know Me Tag :)

was tagged by @telomeke, @ranchthoughts, and @callipigio <3

do you make your bed?

not usually. both in my room at my parent's flat and now in my own flat as well i don't have a couch to hang out on and so i tend to spend a lot of time in my bed during the day bc it's more comfortable there. why make my bed in the morning if i mess it up soon enough anyway? i'll only make my bed when i'm trying to feel/look neat (like for example when people who i don't really know come over)

what's your favourite number?

23! elementary school me was veeery creative in choosing this number.... (my birthday is on a 23rd) anyway this number stuck with me and now it's just part of my personality hahaha

what is your job?

i'm a uni student and i don't have a "fixed" job where i'm employed and get money every month, but i have been working at a specific theater every summer since 2022. this year i'm actually the official assistant director. the rehearsals haven't properly started yet, but i've already one or the other task for it. can't wait for june when we're finally starting with the rehearsals!!!!!!!

if you could go back to school, would you?

depends... compulsory schooling that they make you go through from age 6 to age 15?? HELL NO. adult education? catch me taking 434353 courses on 434353 things

can you parallel park?

i don't have a driver's license

a job you had that would surprise people?

i haven't had many jobs in my life and none of them seem very surprising tbh? if you know me, at least i've worked as a graphic designer before, but i don't see how that would be surprising. also, i'm sure that i've mentioned this a few times in my tag ramblings

do you think aliens are real?

i don't think aliens are real but i also don't think aliens are not real. basically, i don't think aliens exist in the way they are depicted in movies, but if nasa came up to me and told me they found some sort of life somewhere else in the universe i'd be like "yeah i'll believe that". the universe is so vast, so it wouldn't surprise me if there really is something out there, but i don't really think about it tbh

can you drive a manual car?

as i said, i don't have a driver's license. but if i did, the answer would be yes. bc as a european you WILL be taught to drive a manual car at driving school. you could also choose to learn how to drive an automatic car, but that's really the exception to the rool. besides, idk what it's like in other countries, but in austria you're allowed to drive manual cars only if you got your license with a manual car. so getting your license with an automatic car limits your options quite a lot

what's your guilty pleasure?

i don't really feel guilty about my pleasures?? i don't always tell people that i'm really into thai bl, but that's less about feeling guilty and more of a "know your target audience" kind of thing.

tattoos?

nope. my brother has a couple of tattoos and he'd love it if i got one (i think he'd like to have a matching tattoo with me), but i can't do needles. but if i ever did get a tattoo, it would probably be something related to sicily. my brother actually has a tattoo of the trinacria

favorite color?

a really shiny dark blue and a really shiny darker red!

favorite type of music?

uhhhh.... good question?? i grew up listening to classical music and i still really like it, but i don't really listen to it anymore. these days i listen to pop music quite a lot? but that's also a very hit and miss for me, bc i tend to get overwhelmed easily with pop music. idk, just show me a song of any genre of music and i'll tell you if i like this particular song or if i dislike it my playlists tend to be full of song i have some kind of emotional connection too, though! so for example, songs that have been in series/movies that i watched or songs that my loved one's have/had in their playlists and that remind me of them, etc...

do you like puzzles?

i don't dislike puzzles, but it's not something that i would think to spend my time with

any phobias?

spiders!! i've had a phobia of spiders all my life. it's gotten a little better now, and how freaked out i am really depends on the size of the spider, where it is, if it's moving, and also how i'm feeling that day. the worst thing that could happen is a spider touching me in any way, so as long as i have enough distance between me and the spider and the spider is stationary, i'm good. i really dislike spiders right above my head, though i also have a phobia of needles. when i was 12 i had to get my blood drawn when i was sick once and i had a panic attack (or something along those lines). i've tried to avoid needles as best as i could ever since... and as a child i also had a fear of vomit. people vomiting still makes me uncomfortable, but at least i no longer run away and hide behind the door of my room hahaha

favorite childhood sport?

i've never been really athletic but i liked swimming!

do you talk to yourself?

in my own flat when i'm all by myself? yeah!

what movies do you adore?

der schuh des manitu is my problematic fave <3 apart from that, i also adore stardust and tangled and the emperor's new groove and i'm also up for marathoning high school musical, how to train your dragon, pirates of the carribean (1-3), and lord of the rings (extended edition of course) at any given point in time

coffee or tea?

tea!!!!! i LOVE tea!!!!! i had a cup of tea only an hour ago!!!! i'm not big on coffee, apart from a cappucino every once in a while which i also only drink when i'm in italy bc i just don't like it enough to spend 3-4€ on it in austria. coffee flavored things are mostly fine, but coffee as a beverage? not a big fan

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

i don't remember the first thing i wanted to be that wasn't a suggestion by my parents. possibly an actress????

tagging @newyearknwwme @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @celestial-sapphicss @cornflowershade @dimplesandfierceeyes @wack-overflow

as always, feel free to ignore!

#this was fun!! #tag game