#I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ONE WORD ABOUT ORPHEUS

[secondjulia]

Hob Gadling's First Execution

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

“He was begging,” Dream said. Mud squelched all around them, but he and Death made no sound as they walked over the already bloodied field. “I heard it.”

“He was begging to live, you idiot!” Death said.

“How do you know?” Dream looked at Hob Gadling, kneeling before a hoard of soldiers. His hair and beard were coated in blood. 

“He’s writhing away from the man with the axe, not towards him!”

“The specifics were unclear. His lips seem to be leaking, his words were obstructed. And there is only one logical thing to hope for in this scenario.”

Death shook her head. It had barely been a decade since they’d visited the White Horse, and Dream had repeatedly pointed out — as if she could have failed to notice — that the world had only become a less appealing and more brutal place to live.

“But look at him!” Dream said. “Such misery, my sister! Surely he wishes for his torment to be over.”

“This is his torment.” Death said. “And he wishes, I am quite certain, to avoid it entirely.”

She sighed, her eyes running over the line of men on their knees in the mud, hands bound. A few met her eyes with a glimmer of hope. One beamed broadly, even as he shook and panted, blood running down his face. Hob Gadling did not look over. Though he had squirmed when they were first dragged out to the field where the masked man waited to end their short, brutal lives, he was now still. His gaze didn’t scan the assembled crowd for support or mercy but looked defiantly ahead.

“But how could any sensible creature wish to continue to live in a world such as this?” Dream asked.

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t,” Death said. “None of them do. Not in a world such as this. It doesn’t mean they don’t want to live.”

“Hm.” Dream nodded toward the man who had beamed at Death. “That one likes this world. He still dreams of the glory he may yet achieve through his sacrifice. He would continue on, dying a thousand deaths for his lord if he were allowed.”

“See?” Death smile kindly at the doomed man. “Some sensible creatures have found a way to embrace their reality.”

“I would not call that sensible.”

Death gave Dream a sad smile that said she knew very well his callousness was mostly an act. 

Dream knew each and every one of these kneeling men. He had witnessed their final nightmares and bestowed, where he could, more comforting dreams. It was a balance that took a careful hand — something Dream had had to cultivate more and more as civilizations grew. Waking from a lovely dream only to face the executioner could be a torture, while waking from the horrors of night to face the end of torments could be a relief. Forbidden as he was from interfering in the lives of mortals beyond his own dominion, Dream did his best with the powers he had.

And to others — those who would walk away from this field — he gave harsher visions so that they might not forget the blood they shed. He hoped that one day the horror of such practices would impel their end.

Though he was still certain that the next few minutes would prove him right, Dream felt no pleasure. Parts of him would die today. Each of the men kneeling in the mud had lived rich lives within his realm. One who had dreamed of glory now only hoped for a swift end. Another only wished for heat as the chill rain soaked through his tunic and dripped from his hair. Several held friendly faces and warm hands in their daydreams. Others’ minds had gone blank with fear, all thought and creation already stolen from them. Their dreams would die today, and those parts of Dream, too.

Hob Gadling had slept little these last few days. Dream had busied himself with others, honorably not wanting to act in any way that would push his wager with Death one way or another. But now, Hob’s mind was unignorably full and active, daydreams spinning out, vivid and loud. He dreamed of—

Dream turned from the sight immediately. 

His own face looked out of the daydreams of Hob Gadling.

“You are ready, my sister?” Dream asked, trying to cover his surprise.

She nodded. “This century’s looking to be nearly as busy as the last.”

As a soldier walked toward Hob, Dream forced himself to watch. He never enjoyed seeing his sister’s work, especially not when it began like this. Humanity had always been prone to fits of violence, but in its growing civilizations, their capacity to enact horror had exploded. Still, Dream had not expected to feel so sick at the sight.

#

Relief and fear gripped Hob in equal measure as the man strode forward to seize him first. He’d’ve preferred to die in battle, sword in hand, but at least this would be over soon.

Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling…

A slight smile brushed his lips. At least the voice he’d heard a thousand times out of memory, held closely in his heart, would accompany him to his end.

…in this tavern of the White Horse, in one hundred years.

“Forgive me, lord,” Hob murmured. “I shall not make our meeting.” 

The pretty face shone in his mind as clearly as if he’d last seen it yesterday. His slender, black-clad stranger, the scarlet jewel hung over his chest no match in glamor for those petal pink lips dressed with a mocking smile. Oh, how Hob had wished to meet him again when they were both ancient and put a different expression on that lovely face!

Hob had been lucky. He was not yet old, but he’d made it longer than most. All his mates who’d laughed so heartily at his boasts all those years ago had gone to their graves, wounded or worn down, their laughter long gone. But Hob still felt like his brash, young self, defiant in the face of death. He even looked young. His body had held up remarkably well through years of battle and banditry and plague creeping back through England, and, honestly, he felt that he could have held up many more decades — if not forever.

But now his luck had run out.

Hob looked up defiantly at the enemy who had condemned him. He couldn’t even remember now why they’d been trying to kill each other. The political machinations behind the throne were too distant, and Hob didn’t care. A moment later, he was forced to his belly, pushed down onto hard stone, his face hanging over the river’s edge. He was not important enough for his head to be set on a pike, frightening others away from his treacherous deeds. He was a simple soldier, a common mercenary, just unlucky enough to take a coin for services rendered on the wrong side of the battlefield, — to be swept out of the way with the fall of the axe more for convenience than political statement. Hob’s mortal remains would fall into the river like waste. 

He had not even been given the curtesy of a blindfold. 

Hob shut his eyes. In the darkness at the end of his life, he looked into a moon-pale face with storm grey eyes. He ignored the final flashes of the life he’d led up until then, regretting only that he would never meet his pretty lord again. 

Then agony shattered all thought. 

Hob was falling. 

Seconds swelled to years. 

Warm drops that must have been his own heart’s blood splashed onto his face before the river tumbled him into itself and he was drowning, still feeling the gaping wound at the base of his skull. 

Then cold, wet, darkness.

#

Hob woke, thrashing in pain. 

He gasped and cried out as the air scraped over raw flesh. He flailed out with both hands and the soft mud was like hot stones against his skin. He flopped like a fish on the river bank, naked, every inch of him scorched with a pain beyond even the most brutal interrogator’s imaginings.

For a long time, Hob just writhed and cried.

#

Death had too much work to linger, but Dream had followed the severed head as it floated down the river. The body of Hob Gadling had been tossed unceremoniously into a pit with a dozen others. Dream knew that the life force that kept the foolish man alive would spring from the brain, though he still severely doubted whether there could possibly be any desire for such a life. Dream had seen uncountable last-second horrors of decapitated victims and knew the pain must be unimaginable, if (usually) brief. Now, he sat hidden in a grove of willows a little ways away from where Hob had washed up and waited for the begging to begin. 

Death would not be too busy to return with her mercy.

#

Hob lay curled on the muddy river bank for a long time before he could really look down at the body that had, through some magic, appeared under his neck. It was tender as a fresh cut all over, but it looked like him. Slightly soft with hair over the chest and legs. Bound with the soldier’s muscles he’d had since he was a young man. The only difference Hob could see was that fresh skin had grown where old scars had once been. He hadn’t gotten any scars since his early thirties — not since around the time he’d seen his stranger in the White Horse.

His stranger!

“Oh you beautiful devil!” Hob’s voice was hoarse and it pained him severely to speak. But still, he laughed. “My wonderful, blessed stranger!”

In one hundred years!

He hadn’t just been challenging Hob to live. This wizard or saint or devil must have made it so!

“Oh my stranger, my beautiful lord!” Hob called out. His head tilted back to the heavens. But then he looked around, uncertain if that’s where his mysterious benefactor’s power had come from. He pressed his forehead into the mud, bowing to whatever unseen force had saved him. “If your hand were Satan’s own I’d kiss it!”

As soon as the words left him, he bit his lip — a sharp, torturous pain that made tears spring to his eyes. Hob sat up and looked around swiftly. Even in his glee, a thrill of fear ran through him. He didn’t wish to find out what it was like to be burned alive for consorting with the devil.

“From this day forward,” Hob murmured, his head bowed, “when I pray my Lord, it is to you I pray. Ever after, when I speak of thanks and mercy and forgiveness and glory, it is to you I speak. In your name, lord, though I do not have it. Thank you!”

#

Dream watched, dumbfounded, as Hob Gadling pushed himself up and limped naked down the river bank, grinning like an idiot. 

Regretting the time away from his duties, Dream shook his head and turned away. He would be right eventually. This day had only served to vividly remind him him of the acute horror of this world. And Hob still had ninety years left to endure before their next meeting. 

Dream was patient.

#I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ONE WORD ABOUT ORPHEUS #This is the AU called Things Work How I Want Them To #Ferdie Friday #Ferdinand Kingsley #Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Death of the Endless #The Hollow Crown #Richard II #Spoiler Alert I guess #I mean this story came out like four hundred years ago so I feel like the Statute of Limitations on Spoilers has expired #I really didn't realize how much the first one looks like he's calling Henry Bolingbroke YOU BITCH and I think it's totally appropriate

[kohabielnin]

Valentine Day Headcanons

I know it took me a while to do this, as classes make it a little difficult for me, this is another gift for someone very special to me, the @kaval0 💕

Norton Campbell

• Incredible as it may seem, he remembered the date and was prepared days before as he saw the children arranging things to give gifts to those they like,

• Everyone in the mansion was surprised when he handed you a flower and chocolates,

• Naib stole some chocolates just to tease Norton, as usual,

• His embarrassed look when he handed you the chocolates was really cute,

• Both Melly, Frederick and Alice wondered if he was actually sick,

• In general, no one in the mansion expected Norton to give you chocolates

Ronald of Ness

• He closed the theater so he could have time with just you,

• I always saw this skin as one of Norton's most romantic skins because he's an actor,

• This man is not very good at cooking, so the one who helped him with everything was Lady Truth,

• He compares you all the time to flowers, especially roses,

• For a whole day, you can wear his hat and mask,

• He called Mr. Inference to boast that he had company on Valentine's Day...

Naib Subedar

• You two ate the chocolates together, it was cute according to witnesses,

• He worked hard to make the chocolates and even harder not to eat them 💕

• Norton played little a with Naib, but he didn't care and ignored Norton,

• He was a little shy when it came to handing over the chocolate, as he had never done it before,

• Eli helped him have the courage to go talk to you and Brooke watched so Naib didn't give up halfway,

• Spending Valentine's Day with him was definitely a lot of fun

Morningstar

• He made his servants make a feast just for you,

• He just loves spoiling you, whether it's a holiday or just a regular day,

• There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't say he loves you out of fear of losing you,

• He made you a crown similar to his as a gift,

• He himself searched the entire kingdom for the most beautiful rose so he could give it to you,

• In general, Morningstar is a sweet, beautiful, perfect and sweetheart

Orpheus

• This man simply wrote the most romantic poem you've ever seen in your life, along with flowers and chocolate,

• Guess who had a pinky in the middle of one of the letters you received? Exactly, Little Girl,

• You two had a great day together,

• He took the day to listen to you talk about the books you like while giving your opinion about them too,

• He is very good with words, so sometimes he would say something or other to embarrass you, like a compliment in French that he learned from Frederick,

• There was no shortage of tea and cookies in the afternoon for you two

Bonus due to our zap/discord ship in which I am Frederick

Frederick Kreiburg

• Ok... you woke up hearing him playing your favorite song on the piano,

• If you ask him about this, you will only hear: "I feel like playing this song", with an indifferent pose as always,

• On the coffee table, there is a plate with some strawberries covered in chocolate and a handmade letter from him,

• He has a slight difficulty being romantic, but his small acts show that he cares a lot about you,

• He won't mind spending the day playing the piano for you if you wish,

• If you don't want him to spend the day playing the piano for you, he won't mind taking you somewhere relaxing with few people

#identity v x reader #naib subedar x reader #norton campbell x reader #ithaqua morningstar #ithaqua x reader #orpheus idv x reader #norton campbell ronald of ness

[unboundprompts]

Prompts Inspired by Songs about Greek Mythology

-> writing prompts from the lyrics of songs about Greek Mythology. feel free to edit as you see fit.

"It's got nothing to do with fate and everything to do with you." - Sisyphus by Andrew Bird

"Redemption lies plainly in truth." - Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

"You have come to love what you will always fear." - Persephone by Tamino

"I will follow you down even through the gates of hell." - Orpheus by Shawn James

"In the end, all I hope for is to be a bit of warmth for you." - Boreas by The Oh Hellos

"Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing." - Icarus by Bastille

"I get what I want, one way or the other." - Pomegranate Seeds by Julian Moon

"I remember when you told me you were afraid to die." - Icarus & Apollo by Ripto

"As the clouds slowly gather in the night, I hear nothing but the sound of broken cries." - Dionysus by Tomo

"I'm really sorry, but I will win unintentionally." - Eros by Young the Giant

"I don't mind when you play with my head." - Greek God by Conan Gray

"I want to fall in love again. Not in love with a man of this world, but fall in love with life itself." - Aphrodite by Honey Gentry

"Nothing is simple just because you wish that it is." - Ambrosia by Rosie Tucker

"I got your folded piece of paper and the few words that were laid there." - Persephone by The Tragic Thrills

"Time — she moved so slow— that she taxed my feeble mind. And I waited, impatient, for something to come around." - Persephone in the Garden by Aiudoneus

"We'll be the envy of the gods above." - The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

"Loving you is my Achilles' Heel." - Achilles Heel by J. Maya

"Do not grow complacent and take less than what you deserve." - Atlas Drowned by Gang of Youths

"I will never be the same because of the way you made my whole life change." - Artemis by Stephen Rezza

"We keep fixing what we know is only bound to break." - Theseus by The Oh Hellos

"You think you're in gold but I can see the dirt in your lines." - Alrighty Aphrodite by Peach Pit

"Stars are dying in the sky." - Medusa by Kailee Morgue

"Promise me that you'll start where I end, and I promise to give you everything that I am." - Boreas by The Oh Hellos

#writing prompts #prompts inspired by lyrics #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #greek mythology #greek myth #ancient greek mythology #writing ideas #story ideas #prompt list

[mrpenguinpants]

Telling genshin boys about Orpheus and Eurydice and asking them if they’d look back

My Faint Magnolia

— He wonders how many times he's heard you tell this story, and how many more he'll force you to recite.

— Dottore / Zandik

White magnolia flowers symbolize purity and perfection. [Masterlist]

I read one Wiki page so don't yell at me if I got anything wrong. Tbh, I don't really like how this fic turned out but it's been sitting in my drafts for years.

"The musician and prophet Orpheus fell in love with the beautiful Eurydice, only for her to die shortly after. Thus, he journeyed into the Underworld to plead with Hades to bring his beloved back. His wish was granted - but on the condition that he must not look back at Eurydice until they were both back in the land of the living. But Orpheus couldn't resist one glance, and Eurydice was lost to him forever."

"Fascinating. The seventh retelling adds to the suspense."

"Boo, you're no fun. Minus ten points," he hears you whine. The sounds of a book being tossed carelessly aside as ink-stained papers filled with formulas slide forward and brush against the sleeves of his arm. All are pushed away to allow you to sprawl your upper body over the desk so you can mope and continue to avoid doing any actual work. He can feel your gaze on him, patiently waiting for him to look up from his notes and give you attention, yet he continues to write making you huff in annoyance.

You're both supposed to be working on your assignments, so he has excellent reason to keep ignoring you to focus on his work. If anything, he should be annoyed at you, and he is, but it's a testament to how much he's come to tolerate you that he doesn't immediately get up and leave. Or deal with you in another, less unsavory way. Instead, he flips back through the pages of his notebook. A list of collected components of spare parts of a vast machine and smaller notes of their possible working principles and manufacturing processes. Diagrams and sketches of their possible construction and engines filled with footnotes and annotations. Not all of them are in his writing. He wouldn't dare use that atrocious shade of yellow that you seem to love so much.

"Can't we do anything else? I'm bored out of my minddd," you stretch the words out, effectively cutting his concentration in half with nothing but the sound of your voice. He can feel his eye twitch and his pencil's wood creaking from the pressure he's slowly exerting onto it. Your voice is muffled, which means you haven't picked yourself off the table yet, probably hunched over with your cheek against the table that will take another hour for you to pry yourself back up again. He can't wait for his future headache with your complaints about back problems, even though you're killing your own spine and his head. The sound of a pencil rolling back and forth fills the silence, and that's the last of his patience. He slams his notebook down, the pencil bouncing and dropping onto the floor, and the clattering of wood causes his frown to etch deeper. He re-opens his notebook to the page of the Khaenri'ahn machines found in Devantaka Mountain. There's an annoying doodle of a Ruin Hunter in the corner mocking him right back.

"Work."

His clipped voice has you quiet down. It's a good thing you have some sense of preservation and know that even though he indulges you frequently, there are only so many distractions he will let slip through. But the resounding sound of a chair scraping against the floor, papers being shuffled, and your footsteps tell him you're equally frustrated. He thinks he hears you mutter "rigid oaf" under your breath as your footsteps grow fainter. The silence should put him at ease, but it only serves to irate him further since you're the one who's causing him trouble when he just wants to work in peace and quiet. The worst thing about this situation is that he knows you'll refuse to talk to him unless he apologizes first for something he hasn't done wrong. But alas.

He lets out a deep sigh that sounds twice his age. Puspa Café should still be open at this time. If he leaves now, he can still catch up to you. With a sweep of the arm, he quickly gathers his papers haphazardly but still slides them into their rightful places between the meticulous sections of his notebook.

"Would you look back?"

He pauses when your voice sounds behind him unexpectedly. You sound a mixture of cheeky and skeptical, but the drumming of your fingertips against the back of his chair tells him that you are genuinely curious about his response. Maybe even a bit nervous to ask him such a ridiculous question too.

"The fatal flaw of Orpheus is he never stopped to consider the psychological cost of Hade's offer. To think "Do not look back" is an impossible sentence to think without simultaneously speaking the opposite. Every time you repeat, "I must not look back," you are forced to say: "Look back." But that is the weakness of the human mind," is the answer he supplies. He thumbs at the edges of his notebook, worn from all the years he's opened it but still in pristine condition. He doesn't like his things to be dirty. It makes his skin crawl.

"What? Are you above the human mind now? So you wouldn't be tempted at all?" you say with a hint of dumbfoundedness. He's sure you think that he won't give you an actual answer.

"No."

His answer is short but firm. He won't look back. He won't be Orpheus and lose his Eurydice so easily to temptation. His finger moves and tips the cover open, papers flipping until they stop in the middle of the book. Frantic scribbles of ink of his research on the rare disease of Elezar. He thumbs the page's corner until it creases.

"Hey, look at me."

The next page is on segments.

"Why won't you look at me."

The final page is on dreams.

""Please look at me Zandik."

He closes the notebook.

"I thought Orpheus couldn't hear Eurdicye."

He hears you laugh at his unempathetic reply. It's a hallow imitation. Then silence. It always ends like this. His mind dangling what he needs most only to take it away, making him question if you are even still there behind him. Just one look. Just one look to confirm what's behind him but he won't. He won't be a fool like Orpheus. Not until he's finished. So he does what he always has, removes any option he hates, and creates his own means.

+

He blinks awake slowly. The white ceiling of his laboratory stares at him back and the first thing his mind registers is that it's cold. His hand automatically moves to his side only to meet air. That's right, you're not here anymore. You haven't been here for years. The manifestation of the withering caused dark hardened scales to grow across your limbs. Slowly numbing the affected areas until you couldn't walk anymore, which progressed into fatigue and progressive nerve damage. Your last days were spent asleep in a coma surrounded by as many Nilotpala Lotuses as he could find. He closes his eyes again, but the sound of the heavy steel door grates against his nerves before he has the time to truly relax.

"You know you'll never succeed. You know why. Even if this one doesn't die, it won't be the same."

The voice isn't right. Another failure.

Dottore lifts his head to see your segment standing in front of him. That's correct. He can already see the beginnings of scales on the segment's arms. It's funny. He is capable of creating physical carbon copy segments of himself from different stages of his life and yet you, the outlier, it's never the same. A body is made, and a piece of his memories of you acts as the brain, but it's never the same. He knows why. It's because his memories of you are dying. His dreams are getting shorter, and fuzzier around the edges. He used to dream of seeing you, holding you, and he knows the next time he dreams of you, he may not hear your voice anymore. His own segment thoughts echo in his mind. Don't you think this is a waste of materials and time? It's time to give up. They don't understand, they can't dream.

He won't look back because he knows that as soon as he does, he will never dream of you again. Even if the next dream takes away your voice, the next takes away your presence, until he's left with a void of nothing. Even then, he won't look back. He has only dreamed of you every single night, regardless of anything. These are the only things he has left of you. Everything else was taken, stolen, or burnt. He isn't sure if the person he's constantly dreaming of now is actually you or a figment of his imagination that's begging to be free. But he won't let you go.

My doleful aria, tell me that story again tonight.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin dottore x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin dottore #genshin impact dottore #dottore #il dottore #genshin zandik #dottore headcanons

[heluvaku]

𝐼𝓃𝒻𝓇𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 .

An Orpheus | "Novelist" x Gender-Neutral Reader .

warnings ; smut , blow jobs , face fucking , begging , praise kink , cum eating , choking , plot what plot/porn without plot .

authors note ; If this seems familiar , this was posted on my Ao3 a while back .. please don't fight me guys

“Don’t tease for much longer.. I beg of you.”

You gaze up into Orpheus’s eyes with a smile and a masquerade of coyness. You were between his legs, his cock standing at attention in front of your face. Pre-cum was drooling from his tip onto your lips; the scene was nothing short of obscene. You could hear the brunet male huffing over you, restless from the swain edging him.

You’ve kept him occupied for a while. You initially wanted to prattle about his novels and reasons for entering the manor over wine; the rest of the night was a blur until now. You run your hand down his thigh, his pale skin warm to the touch. In response, deep, lust-filled moans permeate your senses. Orpheus gently grabs your hair, practically pleading for you.

“But I don’t know what you want me to do, Orpheus,” you leered, your hand stroking his shaft languidly, coating him with a gorgeous sheen of pre-cum, “tell me what you desire.”

“I presume my answer is quite prominent, sweetheart,” the Novelist choked. He leaned back in his chair, slack-jawed and sweaty. “I don’t think a verbal one is necessary.”

“Oh, I believe it is.” 

“I don’t . Can’t you see I’m ready for you, my dear?” He avowed, “further conversation will conclude with neither of us getting what we want. Please, I crave you.”

Your breath hitches at those words. You cease your snarky remarks and give Orpheus’s cock a slow, hearty lick before taking in his length. The taste of his cum is bitter and salty, with a lingering aftertaste left in your mouth. It’s nice. Enjoyable. Orpheus jolts and let out a wanton moan, melting from the sensation you’ve brought to him.

Pleased by his reaction, you set an excruciatingly slow pace and bob your head on his cock. Orpheus grips his armchair, searching for some sort of stabilizer for himself. Your mouth was tepid. The wetness of your tongue made his head spin, causing him to groan and buck up into your mouth, desperate for further stimulation. 

“Oh, my love ..” Orpheus murmured, his head thrown back and his chest heaving, “you’re truly tantalizing. Won’t you go any faster?”

You whimper around his cock, increasing your speed per his request. Looking up at him, you swirl your tongue around the tip in hopes to receive further extol from the gentleman. Orpheus looked wrecked; his hair disheveled, his clothes unbuttoned, and his skin damp. He’s looked back down at you, and the hand that was glued to your hair vanishes to caresses your cheek in admiration and need. 

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, “absolutely gorgeous. I’d write thousands of novels about this moment if I could, my dear.”

You moaned in response to his praise, giving his cock a particularly hard suck. The Novelist winces and sighs, gripping the armchair tighter than he had before. The way he looked at you displayed millions of emotions, it made you feel as if he loved this and you like no other. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, making you have a small idea.

To drag the time of his release, you attempt to pull off of him to start edging again. Before you could, Orpheus shoved your head back down; making you choke on his length in its entirety. After a few whispers of sweet nothings and reassurance, the brunet male grabs your head and quickly drags you up and down his cock; sighing and groaning after each one.

Your eyes became glossy and your spit and drool were everywhere on Orpheus’s thighs. He was being so rough with you, but his words contain nothing but kindness in them. You quietly whimper in arousal and pain from gagging on him for so long. Orpheus only chuckled and sighed at your erotic expression.

“I sincerely apologize, my love,” Orpheus started, “But I simply couldn’t restrain myself any longer. You’re so endearing, all I could ask for.. Oh, fuck me ..”

The tears in your eyes finally fell, staining your face and the velvet of the chair. You hollow out your cheeks, sucking and whirling your tongue around the veins of his cock, desperate to get him off. Orpheus’s moans increased in volume and his pace with you grew sloppy, giving you a clear sign that he’s close. 

“Take all of it,” He spat, “drink every drop I give you. I don’t wish to see any of my cum out of your mouth. Do you understand, my dear?”

You nod frantically before he holds you down to cum deep into the back of your throat. It’s hot, salty, and too much to keep each drop in your mouth. Orpheus lets you pull off of him and drink his seed, chuckling at the sight of you licking his cock for anything left on him.

 The Novelist straightened himself up before helping you up and pulling you into a passionate kiss. The taste of himself is unfamiliar. He cocks his eyebrow up in puzzlement, making you laugh at his expression and plant another peck on his cheek in endearment.

“I must say, the desperacy on your face was quite amusing to watch,” Orpheus teased.

“ I was being desperate? you should’ve seen yourself, Orpheus,” You joked, “You looked like a mess.”

“I don’t recall being the one crying, though.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I don’t think I will, sweetheart,” He snickered, “Now, let us get you cleaned off, shall we?”

@ orpherizz 2023 . do not share or repost .

#⁺˚⋆✩₊ orpherizz works . #idv smut #identity v smut #orpheus #orpheus deross #orpheus smut #identity v x reader #idv x reader

[randomfoggytiger]

Best pining fanfics? Mulder pining, Scully pining, both of them, I love it all. Need some angsty "they couldn't possibly feel the way I feel" admiring-from-a-distance (possibly buildup to love confession) fics in my life.

<3

Oooooooooooooooh, that's interesting-- usually don't go for the pining myself, BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT that doesn't mean there aren't a ton I have stashed away. ;))) Brb!

Unironically most (if not all) of @cecilysass's work have pining with requited love, some examples: The Kaleidoscope (S6, Scully dating, both pining), How to Eat Pleasant Holiday Meals With Co-Workers (mostly pining, including IVF and later "breakup" Thanksgiving), Pause (AU after Requiem-- pregnant Scully was "dead" for a year before being returned with amnesia after FTF. PINING.), The Boy on the Beach (AU time travel case after Amor Fati-- Mulder misinterpreted his experience, Scully feels deeply hurt and is given the opportunity to save Samantha from the "past." Both realizing mistakes and talking), and I'll throw in All the Dead Mulders (post Three Words Mulder goes to his family's grave to find closure and/or himself. Scully tracks him down in the end) and Not Orpheus, Not Eurydice (S5 Mulder and Scully feed pond ducks by a church and talk, beautiful) because there's some pining but more importantly, they're my favorite of her fics.

@nowwhateinstein's Now That You're Around Me-- (Mulder and Scully's closer relationship is almost ruined by Diana's pestering at the FBI ball.)

Violetta_Valery's The bittersweetness of pie (Breakup Mulder wanders into town, having lost everything except his craving for sweet potato pie. There he sees Scully with a guy, misinterprets everything, and rushes in to save her honor. All ends well.)

SqueekaCuomo's It’s Not Really about Krampus (Scully has insomnia at her family's Christmas; and Mulder keeps calling. She realizes he misses her and that she loves him.)

@agent-troi's pining and denial during her ongoing IVF Platonic Procreation (an example of how everyone could be telling you the truth and you could be denying it until you're blue in the face.)

allthings2020's The Mood Ring (almost makes Mulder and Scully confront their feelings.)

@tofuttim's Agent Scully is Already in Love (post Milagro Mulder didn't know Scully loves him; and fears that loving him will ruin her. She understands.)

@slippinmickeys's The Concept of Dualism (Melissa makes Mulder and Scully crash in one place post Dod Kalm so she can care for them) and Three Sentence Prompts - Chapter 15 (AU The End where Scully is shot instead, Gibson reassuring her of Mulder's love as she fades away.)

@welsharcher's *chef's kiss* The Almost Kiss (Small Potatoes Mulder realizes Scully wanted more, backs away since he can't be "that" right now. Both pining) and No Place for Me (post The End Scully feels rejected, hears Mulder's heartbroken tears.)

@baronessblixen wrote some great Rain King-- I Saw You In My Dreams (Scully thinks Mulder was dreaming about Diana, realizes it's her name in Kansas), this one (Mulder and Scully talk out their tenseness by recollecting how he always supported her during the cancer arc), and this funny one (Mulder wakes, happy, then sneezes in Scully's hair-- not so much pining as enjoying?)-- and One Son pining-- this one (Mulder and Scully are both mad at each other and their "betrayals") and Never Cold With You By My Side (Fowley locks up Mulder and Scully in Fort Marlene overnight-- Scully so angry she pushes Mulder away until she's forced to ask for body heat.)

Lapsed_Scholar's Atonement counts, I believe (cancer arc Scully is hurt that Mulder dips without talking to her at all-- turns out, he was following Jewish customs to try to barter for her recovery or to atone for his mistakes that are being foisted, he thinks, on his partner.)

@amplifyme's Roghnaíonn Mé Tú counts, I think (S7 Scully is thunderstruck that Mulder had chosen her over Samantha in End Game.)

Hope these are enough for now! XDDDD Sorry this took me a bit; but I hope you have a wonderful weekend reading~. :DDDDD

Edit: WAIT I'm kicking myself for forgetting @suitablyaggrieved's Fictober Day 10 (S2 Mulder wants Scully back; but Skinner's not budging) and Mulder hears the door (Mulder pining for Scully while she's abducted, Skinner trying to help.)

#asks #living-in-unreality #fic #Collector's Edition #but not #xf fanfic #xf fic #x-files #xfiles #the x files #have fun! :DDDDDD #I'm going to get to your vid suggestion too btw #still workin on that #HOPEFULLY there isn't more DaVinci aggravations

[ep-the-penguin]

[Child of the Endless]

 └─── Headcanons──➤

[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)

Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?

Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...

I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!

╔═ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ════════════╗

What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]

╚════════════ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ═╝

⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.

⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.

⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.

⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.

⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).

⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).

⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.

⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.

⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.

⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.

⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he didn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.

⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did

⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.

⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.

⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.

⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.

⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.

⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.

⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.

⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing left of him…

───────────

Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.

But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!

Until next time my dear readers!

#the sandman #sandman headcanons #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman x y/n #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x y/n #dream x fem!reader #dark!morpheus #yandere themes #platonic yandere #reader insert #child!reader #teen!reader #yandere #yandere morpheus x reader #Morpheus x reader platonic #Child of the Endless series #ep the penguin writings

[snarkythewoecrow]

we're pretending it's still wip wednesday

@kingofdarkness00 is always lovely and tagging me, so here is me aiming to actually do one close to the right day

okay, another random snippet from the dream/hob angst fest with all the tropes, yes, believe it or not, this snippet is actually from the same fic... what can I say? lack of inspiration and random ideas never seems to be a problem, but um, not sure how to set this up, except, think post all the trauma i put hob through, hob going through a rough recovery, and dream sorta struggling a bit, being a bit frustrated, emotions are hard and shit, so basically, this snippet is a bit of the scene where dream retreats to seek council of the one person who he trusts to truly understand him and what hob is going through, even if he feels a bit selfish for doing it... enter calliope stage right please....

Calliope ducked her head. “I would be remiss if I were to say you appeared well—as for a god of sleep and dreams, you look awfully tired, Oneiros.” A painful smile. “Perhaps it’s the weariness at being unable to change the past that is catching up to me.”  “So, does this mean you are ready to speak of Orpheus—of what happened to our son?” Guilt seized his throat and squeezed—because what did it make him—how self-serving—that he hadn’t invited her to reflect on the memories of their child, to offer the support that he’d neglected to give so long ago? His lips parted, words hanging from his tongue before remembering why he’d summoned her—selfish or not. “No, though speaking about our son is something I’d like to do—soon—if you were amenable to visiting again—that is to say, if you don’t find my company as intolerable as you once did.” Her breathy laugh and eye roll proved her still better than him. “Just as you’d answer my call—I shall always attend to yours. So, if we’re not here to discuss our history, then what is it that has affected you enough to summon me?” She raised her brows, head tilting. “Because that is a look I haven’t seen in so very long—not since we met our end.” He clenched his jaw—defensive for no reason other than pride or perhaps fear of being perceived. “I—“ he began, then stopped, sharp edges softening at her radiance, warmth. At her forgiveness. Her and Hob were more alike than he’d realized. What did humans say about a type? Shaking the thoughts aside, he pressed forward despite the itch in his throat. “I’ve come to ask for advice, as I’ve—I’ve found myself not knowing what to do—and—and I suppose you were right. I've changed--changed in ways that have left me... questioning--lost. Perhaps even fearful of making the same mistakes I once made with you." Something seemed to have become clear to her, as a quiet "Oh," escaped her lips. "Oh, Oneiros, you continue to surprise me still." He huffed. “That’s all you have to offer?” She rolled her eyes. “Scowling like a wet cat will not earn any favors. Can't a woman remark on the things she sees?" “I don't recall you stating more than your astonishment." "I suppose--though I speculate it to be true." His brows lifted, otherwise his expression blank. "And do I want to know what you suspect of me?" "That you're in love—that you've opened your heart in a way you'd never quite been able to do with me." The guilt burned his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t—“ But he didn’t get to finish as two fingers pressed to his lips. “No, do not apologize for love, Onieros—you hold no more sway over the decisions of your heart than you do the choice of the stars to shine in your eyes.” He stayed silent, knowing better than to challenge a Muse on such a topic. Then, the fingers moved from his lips, her palm sliding to cup his cheek. “Now, come, take my hand and sit beneath the cypress,” she said, threading together their fingers. “I fancy to hear the tale of the one who claimed your heart—who has you seeking my council in such a state.”

@buckybeardreams @thefangirloutof-time @kydrogendragon

#dreamling #the sandman #calliope sandman #snippets #my wips #snark writes #it's the fic that never ends #it just getting going until my tears short out the keyboard #this was meant to be under 1k #my muse is a sadistic femme dom into seeing me cry #no other explanation as to why the word count and ideas for scenes continue to pile up #its 3am #idk why that seems important rn but it does #🐦‍⬛

[the-promise-has-been-made]

I feel like I wanna go see Hadestown like... six more times, just so I can focus on one specific character each time because they all have such unique little quirks to their performances. But specifically:

Hades has this super camp, cocky confidence. Like, when Chant 2 was happening and he and Persephone were circling around the workers and Orpheus, the man was STRUTTING!!! He had more of a hip sway that any other character, he was on a cat walk and we were all just peasants! You coud tell me right now Zachary James has a background in drag and I would believe you wholeheartedly, I am convinced that man can walk in heels better than I can. Right after the lights shorted out after 'I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!' man stood there like a class 1 slut with 'tell you wat, young man' like, sir? Sir?!! Like I don't know, the patrick page recordings always had something very dignified to them but this Hades was SEXY and he knew it! But at the same time, he was so insecure about Persephone. Thre were so any instances whre he tried to reach for her, and she moved away, or pushed away, and it was breaking him, visibly. Such fantastic nuance. Like every time he tried to be vulnerable with her, it failed and so he dialled up the cockyness instead and it just got away from him. That's what it felt like. Like 'shit, well, now I committed to this now I gotta see it through!'

And Hermes giving supreme butch energy, flirting with Persephone. Hades was worried about his wife in the arms of the sun? Bro, you should be worried about the God witth feathers on their feet, they're out to steal yo woman. But also, the way Hermes knew how it all would turn out thrughout the whole thing. Like, with the other characters, it doesn't feel like that. But Hermes is the narrator, they break the forth wall, they know the song. It's in the way they gently touch Eurydice's shoulder before the show even starts, as if asking for permission to tell her tragedy again. It's in the way they look at her when she goes to pay for her passage into the underworld, the unspoken 'are you sure? We can still do this another way it doesn't have to be like this' but because they know how the story has to go, they can't actively interefere. Because that's not how Hermes operates. The sour disappointment when they tell Orpheus that Eurydice is gone, and that she cried his name before she went, there is veiled accusation there that Orpheus could have - should have - stopped this but wasn't listening (and maybe even shame that Hermes themselves did not stop it even though they knew what would happen?). The long stretches of silence at the Road to Hell reprise, with Orpheus just sitting there, sobbing, and Hermes just letting it settle in for everyone - no music, no other sounds, just the very quiet '...It's a sad song...' Oooofff.

And of course... Orpheus. I don't know if it's just the different voice and accent, or if it's because I saw this one live, but the Broadway recording always sounds very theatrical to me whereas Dónal Finn's performance was RAW. Absolutely gut-wrenching. He managed to bring across the sweet charme and comedy in Wedding Song, the hesitant insecurity in his own abilities in Epic 1, the determination in Wait For Me 1, where he is still confident that he can do this, that he can bring his love back. And then he gets to the Undeworld and is completely broken. Is It True is actually devastating. The way he first just lies on the floor, forcing the words out in pain, in resignation, before the workers hear and join his song and he gathers new strength and not just strength but also the ANGER that this is supposed to be the world when he KNOWS the world can be better than this. Like, in the recordings, I knew from the lyrics this was a song meants to unite the workers in protest but DAMN in the performance I actually wanted to stand up with him! And then he sings his whole heart out in Epic 3 and for a moment there, he's that boy again when Eurydice says 'you finished it!' and he goes 'I did!' and throws his hands up in glee. And it looks like everything is going to work out. But Doubt Comes In tears all of that away, because the entire time, when he sang there were others there with him. When he sang Epic 3, everyone sang along like it was supposed to be, like Hermes said 'the Gods sang their song of love, and the world sang it with them' but when he sings now, on the dark road, there is no echo, there is no one answering his song, it's just him and the cold wind, and the doubt personified as the fates in the back of his mind, and he is absolutely losing it. You GET why he turnes around. It's not because he doubts Eurydice's love. It's because he doubts that HE is actually worth walking back in the cold for, it's doubt that he would not be tricked by the Gods. He doesn't doubt her love, he doubts himself! And it was devastating. A devastatingly raw performance. I hope he wins awards for this show, I've never seen anything like it.

#Hadestown #I am still shooketh

[capriclonus]

So obsessed with your fic and ty for giving your Tumblr 😋 PLS PLS GIVE ME TIPS ON WRITING THE CHARACTERS!!! I LOVE THE WAY YOU DO IT!! I am struggling rn with my story 😔😔 I aspire to be like you 😿

First off, WOW, someone coming to me for writing advice? That is an insane honour and a privilege! Honestly, I don't even know what to say, I don't consider myself an amazing writer (mostly I just consider myself one of the many pieces of trash worshipping at Shadowheart's feet) so its just fucking amazing that you want my input! Secondly, I'm sorry to hear you're struggling with writing! It can be so so difficult. I think we're all guilty of forcing ourselves to write sometimes when we can't--so make sure you take time to do other things that aren't reading/writing to clear your headspace (and also simply changing the colour of the word document helps a lot! Also the font).

In terms of writing characters, a lot of what I do is very subconscious so you'll have to excuse my somewhat word jumble here as I try to think about and vocalise what it is that I do--

1. Get to know your characters. Recognise they aren't static beings, but change. For example, using Shadowheart as a reference, I think we can agree she has three basic states of being in the game: first, what's she’s like as an acolyte of Shar; second, what she's like as an ex-acolyte/selunite; and third, what she's like as a Dark Justiciar. Ie. in the beginning Shadowheart is blunt, defensive, scared and anxious. Still, she's also committed to her cause which has been off-roaded by needing to find a cure (and she has private doubts about that cause because of the trauma she's been through finding the artefact). But as a selunite, she's much more open and honest with her doubts and her feelings AND she's not afraid to have a bit more of a joke--you can sense a weight has been lifted from her, even as the initial decision crushes her. Also, think about how they speak, the words they use, and how they vocalise. Shadowheart speaks differently at each iteration--as an acolyte, she speaks relatively informally (for Shadowheart) when she's speaking to you, but when she's talking about Lady Shar, she alters her language and speaks more formally, more weighty. Compare this to Dark Justiciar: she's very formal all the time now, because she's moved from an acolyte to a representative of Shar, which needs to be taken seriously.

2. Empathise with them. What does the current stage of their journey feel like? If it were you, how would you feel and how does that differ to how they might feel? Read into the things they say in-game: their psychology comes as much as from what they don't say as it does what they do say.

3. Contextualise them within your fic: now you know what stage of their journey are they at, think about how that is affected by the environment/context you've put them in. For example, in my fic Give it Up for DJ Shadowheart, Shadowheart never moved past the stage of being an acolyte of Lady Shar but, more than that, she was never given the choice to do so-- Shar abandoned her when she was no longer useful so she was never given the object of choice. How does that affect her character, and how does it affect it in a modern context? For me, I decided not being given that choice would likely make Shadowheart feel stuck in place and, given her in-game bias to move to Selunite when offered choice, it makes sense to me that she would slowly become the selunite version of herself over time so long as she had positive influences in her life that promoted finding joy and purpose in other places, and promoted healing. Thinking about Lae’zel, I’ve framed her in the aftermath of her abandoning Vlaakith (getting fired from her job and losing her girlfriend is my equivalency to this) but instead of having another cause (Orpheus/a new job/her girlfriend) she has nothing and feels she has nowhere to go. And in my opinion, that would simply be too much for her to cope with, as someone who is driven by purpose and structure. Therefore she falls into a deep depression.

4. Have fun with it!!! Fanfiction is ultimately about self-indulgence and you should be focusing on what makes you happy to write more than anything. The characters don’t need to be perfect. In BG3 they are all so unique and as long as you are having fun whilst you’re writing them—if you’re making yourself smile, turning yourself on, whatever it is you want to get from your fic—then you are doing an AMAZING JOB!

Honestly I feel I’ve mostly talked a load of guff here, it was a lot harder to think about how I characterise people than I thought, but I hope I’ve helped in some way, even if just by explaining my thought processes behind my own characterisations. I hope it makes sense anyway!

And for what its worth, I’m sure you’re doing a lot better than you think you are and I wish you all the best in your fanfiction endeavours! Remember that, as much as I celebrate kudos/bookmark/hits milestones—and I do—they are very arbitrary numbers and if you’re happy with your fic, if you get pleasure out of reading/writing it, that’s really all that matters. I’m not ashamed to say I reread my fics all the time because I wrote them for me! And of course, to think that I’ve written something just for my own enjoyment that other people have enjoyed too is really wonderful! But I always keep in mind that at the end of it all, my fiction is for me!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR AMAZING ENGAGEMENT BTW YOU ARE SO SWEET AND I WISH YOU ALL THE BEST!! Come back anytime, I love to chat!!! <3 <3

#wow this was long sorry #ao3 capriclonus #give it up for dj shadowheart #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 shadowheart

[pinksirensong]

Good day! Would like to request a Morpheus x Jealous Fem! Reader. Angst & a fluffy ending. Thank u! 🥰

Hii!! Sorry it took so long, I don't know if it's exactly how you wanted it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

warning: angst, kind of depressive thoughts and suggestive ending (hehe)

.

.

.

Y/N could hear his words echoing inside her head “It has been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes. I still love you.”, she was the one by his side for thousands of years, before, during and after his imprisonment, being locked away with him at that fishbowl. How naïve of her to even think that the many nights you shared meant to him the same as to her. She was just a demigod daughter of Hades who gained immortality after sacrificing herself to save Mount Olympus, but Nada was a Queen, a leader. It was hard to ignore it, she was there when he said it and not even for a moment Morpheus thought about her feelings.

Then there was Calliope, the kind muse who was the mother of his son Orpheus, and once again Y/N was present to see the tension between them. She wanted to hit him, scream at him and call him a liar for making her believe he loved her back, but she was too tired. Jealousy was an ugly feeling, and it was consuming too much of her, all the time she just didn’t feel like enough and instead she felt like a second choice. Today this was going to stop, she was tired of this pain.

 - What are you doing? – she heard his voice coming from the bedroom door. She threw more clothes inside her bag and closed it.

 - Leaving. I never had much here, but if I missed something you are more than welcome to set it on fire.

 - I do not understand. – she let out a unhumorous laugh and tried to leave the bedroom without success, because he held her wrist. – Y/N, please. Tell what is happening. Why are you leaving the Dreaming? Why are you leaving me? – the demigod needed to get away, it was too hard seeing him hurt like that but also knowing it was for the best.

 - Because I’m tired of feeling like a consolation prize to you. – he tried to speak, but she wouldn’t let him. Morpheus asked what was going on and now he would listen to her. – Have you any idea of how I felt when you told Nada that you still loved her? I was right there and yet it was like you simply ignore it. And then you dragged me to save your ex-wife, and while I’m glad she’s okay and we did the right thing, did I truly had to witness you giving her your lovey-dovey eyes? Must you rub in my face that you don’t love me? After everything I though at least you would spare me some empathy.

 - Y/N…

 - I’m leaving, Morpheus. I shall go back to my home, at the Underworld, with my father Hades.

 - No, you cannot leave. Y/N, please, please listen to me. – the tears she was holding back now she was shedding them. It was impossible to hold the sadness and the hurt inside her, the last thing she wanted was to do this. Could he see how much it pained her to leave him? Couldn’t he make it easier for her? – I am utterly sorry for all the pain I caused you but more than this, I am sorry that you ever felt like I didn’t love you. That you weren’t my first choice, because you are. Y/N, you will always come first for me. I cannot free Nada, for I’ve not forgiven her, but I thought perhaps that response would ease some of her pain. – he touched her check and Y/N closed her eyes, letting him get closer to her. – And Calliope and I will always share a connection because of our son and our shared pain, but you are mistaken for I could never love her, Nada or anyone else when you are the one holding my heart.

 - Morpheus…

 - Do not leave me, my love. There is no life for me without you, I would be simply existing and fulfilling my purpose. I can only be alive with you, only your love can bring joy to my heart and meaning to my days. From this day on I shall show you every second of every day how much I truly love you. – she left her bag behind and throwed herself at him.

 - I love you, Morpheus. – no more words were needed, she pulled him for a kiss. Getting her in his arms at bridal style and throwing her at their shared bed, he vowed to himself to never let her think such things ever again, and tonight Morpheus would show her how much he loved her.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman

[softguarnere]

Hey Bestie! 🥰

Can I request some headcanons about when they would hear that reader died and then the relief when it's wrong news?

Thank you!! ❤️

ps: only if you got time for it and you're up for it of course, love ;)

Hiya Bestie! 🤗 Sorry it took me a minute to get to 💕 I hope I got all the ones that you wanted

Don Malarkey

He walks into a room only for everyone to stop talking and stare at him

His heart immediately sinks because that's never a good sign

Someone (probably one of the other NonComs, but he can't remember which) takes him aside and tells him about the report that just came in

He's not exactly sure what happens after that. He knows that he goes off on his own and lights a cigarette, but he can't remember how he got there or why he came

All he knows is that you're gone, which can't be right, and he can't wrap his head around the whole thing -

"Don?"

The second that he sees you he drops his cigarette in disbelief

Because you're actually here and he's never been so relieved to see anyone in his whole life

Whoever sent in the wrong news is gonna have hell to pay for scaring him like that if he ever finds out who it was

Edward "Babe" Heffron

The news comes as a complete and total shock to him

His friends watch him carefully, waiting to see what he needs, because you two meant everything to each other, so obviously this is gonna have an effect on him

Like when Julian died in Bastogne, he just kinda . . . shuts down

Staring off into space, not really talking to anyone or reacting to anything

When another report comes in with new information - you're name isn't on the casualty list - he's worried to get his hopes up

When you make it back to the rest of Easy, it's like watching him come back to life

He doesn't care who sees or if you get in trouble - he runs to you and kisses you like there's no one else in the world

Joseph Liebgott

He thinks that something has happened to you? His Villain Origin Story™️

No but for real

You mean so much to him. He's not the greatest with openly expressing his emotions/giving name to them, but he's been trying with you because he's never felt this way about anyone and now you're gone -

No one else in the company wants to go near him because he's seething and looks like he's about to explode

When you rejoin the company, he thinks that you're some sort of dream - too good to be true

But when he realizes that you're okay and that you're really there, he has no hesitation in running to you and showering you with hugs and kisses

The rest of the company has never had the privilege of seeing him so soft, and they don't dare tease him about it

"You always were an angel," you tells you with relief. "But don't you dare go turnin' into a real one on me"

Carwood Lipton

He is so stunned by the news that he just has to sit down for a second

Because he can't quite wrap his head around what he's hearing

Trying so hard to keep his cool

Honestly, bless the poor person who has to deliver the news to him, because they're probably shaking in their boots when they see his face

"Are you sure?"

He looks so heartbroken, but looks can be deceiving, and everyone wonders if he's about to lose his cool

Which he would never do in front of the men. That's why he goes off to a private place to grieve

When you reappear and he realizes that the news was wrong, he's so relieved that he cries as he hugs you and it gives him a new hope

Because what was the point of fighting the war without you?

Dick Winters

He's more confused than anything when word reaches him that you've died

He gets the report and is immediately grabbing gear and heading for the door

Because one way or another, he's going to bring you back, to see you one last time

Big Orpheus and Eurydice vibes, doing anything for the person that he loves the most

Sure, the rest of the company has seen him be strict and take charge during combat, but they've never seen him like this

It's a whole different kind of battle charge, and no one can stop him from going

Except for you

And when you walk through that door, he's never felt so relieved

All the fight melts right out of him as he rushes to make sure that you're okay

Don't expect to be sent into combat again for a while, because he's going to make sure that you stay out of harms way after that scare

Wayne "Skinny" Sisk

He doesn't believe the news for a second

You? The toughest person in the company dying? Yeah right, like you would ever let that happen

. . . but he does start to worry the more time that passes without hearing from you

He feels like he's going a little crazy, because all of his friends are just kind of staring at him like they're waiting for him to do something

Meanwhile he's just waiting for you and he's beginning to feel impatient

He's so desperate that he finds a quiet spot, kneels down and prays

Because he might be the local reprobate, but whatever deal he has to broker with the Big Fella Upstairs, he'll do it

You show up late in the night and all he can do is hug you close and keep whispering soft Oh my Gods and Thank Gods

"I thought you didn't believe in God, Skinny?"

He shrugs. "How can I not when there's an angel right in front of me?"

Floyd Talbert

Like Winters, he's determined to find you one way or another

There's no time for rank and formalities and all that - he'll deal with the upper brass later

Just as he's about to charge out to find you, you catch up with the company and everyone realizes that the report was wrong

You notice him armed to the teeth, ready and more than willing to sneak away and find you

"You would have done that for me?"

He doesn't even try to play it off all nonchalant - because he might have a reputation for being something of a player, but he's starting to realize that he's head over heals for you

"For you? I'd walk barefoot into hell."

Harry Welsh

He's one of the first people to get the news

And he knows right away that there must be some sort of mistake, because there's no way anything could have possibly happened to you

Right?

He starts trying to delegate his duties for the rest of the day, because the company might be on the move, but if you're out there somewhere, he doesn't want there to be any chance of you getting left behind

He's usually so calm and level-headed, no one has ever seen him like this

A couple of the other guys offer to go scouting to see if they can find you

When they bring you back, he's never felt more relieved to see you walk into a room

And he swears that he'll never take the sight for granted again

George Luz

Wildcard. The news comes in and no one has any clue how he's going to react

Yeah he's "the funny one", but he's a person and he has emotions, and most people have never seen him get upset before

But those who have know that he'll kind of bottle up those emotions. His humor turns darker and more bitter and he'll brush it off until he explodes

. . . so they decide to make sure that he's in a good place before anyone tries to tell him

His friends are just sitting him down to try to explain what they've heard when you reappear

Because he didn't know anything was wrong, he's just as happy to see you as he would normally be

However, when you hear the false rumor of your own death, you're pretty pissed with whoever incorrectly reported it

"Everyone thought that I was dead? And no one bothered to tell you?!"

"Not everyone," he smiles, hooking an arm around your waste. "I didn't know, but I wouldn't have believed it anyway. I've got way more faith in you then the rest of these chumps."

Thank you for the request darling! I hope you like these 😘

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanon #don malarkey #don malarkey x reader #babe heffron #babe heffron x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott x reader #carwood lipton #carwood lipton x reader #dick winters x reader #dick winters #skinny sisk #skinny sisk x reader #floyd talbert x reader #floyd talbert #harry welsh #harry welsh x reader #george luz x reader #george luz #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #my writing

[heartshapedbubble]

I was wondering if I could request some novelist with an s/o who has the occupation of being an assassin and headcanons about the first impressions and how they develop a crush on them

I'M SO HAPPY IM FINALLY GETTING ORPHY ASKS !!!!! here you go anon B)

also small cw for mentions of murder/blood

orpheus with an assassin s/o hcs📕

orpheus is perhaps one of the most mysterious people in the manor since he doesn't have a lot of friends, nor does he interact with a lot of people

it's no different when you appear in the manor - however, orpheus is VERY good at reading people, and can sense if someone's too dangerous to be near them

even though he never directly approached you, you could see him lurking around the shadowy corners of the manor, his eyes following you each time you walked through the corridors

he's very fascinated, indeed, but doesn't want to approach you first since you seem like the type of person that doesn't tolerate any bullshit (/hj)

...sooo your initial proper meeting would be in a place where orpheus lurks often (aka the library)

you approached him, asking if he had a book you were trying to borrow

he leads you towards a bookcase, and as you're inspecting the covers, you hear him slowly yet clearly whisper behind you

"i thought things like books were not an assassin's field of interest."

you turned around, dumbfounded - how could he possibly know? it's something you've been keeping a secret from even your closest friends, for god's sake. he didn't even interact with you once during your time in the manor. something was up

you slowly approached him, muttering: "i... don't know who told you that, or how do you know, but all i'm asking from you is to keep it a secret." your hand roamed your thigh, taking out a sharpened switchblade and pointing it at him. "that secret goes into the grave with both me and you."

he was unphased, his neutral, lost-in-thought expression still in tact even after your threat. "i'm fine with that. alright then, you can continue searching. i'm only glad i clarified my suspicions."

after that orpheus wasn't to be seen around, yet you felt like he was constantly watching you, making you randomly shiver and look around in fear

yet one day, you hear an unexpected knock on the door, and oh boy guess who it is?? your brand new secret keeper in the flesh - orpheus himself

he just came to give you a book he thought you'd like - still weird. but as you open the first page, a letter falls out

it's undoubtedly his sharp, curved writing, the words confessing of how he sensed (and deduced) that you were an assassin, and an apology for the scare he gave you

it was peculiar, but you found yourself frequently turning towards the library afzer that, inhaling the smell of book paper and watching orpheus scrape the yellowed paper with his quill as if he was a precise machine

you decide to start chatting with him to pass the time

once his stern façade slowly dropped, you both realized it was really pleasant talking to each other - orpheus was like a crypted safe filled with treasure, and with each of his witty sentences and remarks you heard a click

he likes writing detective novels and often casually asks you detailed things about murder, or inspects your blades (if you let him)

"___, is hitting someone with a blunt object and blaming it on internal bleeding due to high blood pressure a good way to murder someone without getting caught?" "i suppose so. it depends on the other factors." "splendid."

he's not the best with speaking to someone in person so he confesses to you via letters - his letters could truly be considered his magnum opus. he puts so much love in them, every single sentence making you red and showing his love in the purest way possible

even though he's a romantic at heart pushing out his cute side will take some time

his love language is a mix of giving gifts and quality time - he's incredibly thoughtful with every gift he gives you, from a first-release edition of your favourite book from an antique shop, to a bouquet of your favorite flowers and to a small blade with a beautiful painted handle. of course, he likes both giving and receiving words of affirmation too, but he does it best on paper

if you're touchy it might take some time for him to get comfortable so he starts off with simple gestures like wrapping his arms around your waist or resting his head on your shoulder when he's behind you (it's his favorite thing in the world :'D)

just give him lots of time and space to get comfortable around you, he's truly a great partner and probably the best person you can be next to <3

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #idv imagines #identity v headcanons #idv fanfic #identity v x reader #idv scenarios #idv x reader #identity v x you #idv orpheus #identity v orpheus #idv novelist #identity v novelist #orpheus idv #novelist idv #novelist identity v

[eggwars]

temptation tuesday

rules: share something about an idea you have/something that's speaking to you/an au you'd like to see and are considering writing/etc. etc. Basically anything that is tempting you away from your current wips!

Thank you for the tag @just-slightly-chayotic and @viva-yas-vegas

since I got tagged twice I guess I'll share two tidbits? I currently have four-ish chaptered fics I'm rolling around in my brain. What to share~? What to share~?

I'm putting this under a cut because it got quite long lol fic below!

Okay so my second or third most developed one is probably my KimChay mermaid AU?

So for the mermaids, it started off as a branch idea from another AU I'm working on with Tea. They have also been my muse for this one, which is going to have some Little Mermaid vibes (Kim is nosy in every universe) but with some fun twists. I have some snippets written for this one already!

Sound travels differently on the surface. In the water, his songs are close, intimate. The sound doesn't travel as far, but it's rounder, a bubble of music.

On the surface, sound is sharper, it travels farther, straight across the air like a thrown spear. Kim can't decide which is better. Some of the songs his mother used to sing sound better above the waves, so he finds the closest abandoned beach to sing.

But one day, he's swimming to shore when dulled notes drift over his ears through the water. It's not singing, it sounds like one of those many-stringed instruments humans bring on fishing boats. 

Kim hovers in the water, indecisive. The sound's coming from above the waves, close to where he was going to perch for the evening. Kim should turn around. That's what his brothers would say. He hasn't listened to them in years. 

Kim makes his way inland, belly close to the sand, making sure the powerful beats of his tail don't make waves in the calm evening surf. He's maybe 5 meters from the small beach, when the first hummed notes of a song filter through the water to him. He needs to surface, he needs to hear it. Coming up behind a convenient jut of rocks, Kim's ears finally hear that clean air-sound.

It's beautiful. The singer is clearly young, their notes hesitant, but warm. Kim can't help himself. As he pulls the bulk of his torso on a flat part of the outcropping, he begins to harmonize under his breath. It's as easy as swimming, singing with this boy. And the human's a boy, he can see that now. He misses a few notes when he sees him. He's odd-looking. Humans usually are. Their two legs make them appear shorter than merfolk, and their skin is soft all over, like a hatchling's nascent scales. 

But there is something about this one that gives Kim pause. Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the way his fingers cleverly find the next chord to play. Maybe it's the glowing golden of his tan skin.

No.

It's those eyes, Kim thinks, as they meet his. It'd almost be comical, how round they become, if not for how the setting sun has turned those driftwood eyes a deep sea-glass amber.  

Kim has slipped off his perch and is streaming back into deep water before he realizes. 

Oh, he's beautiful.

He wants to sing with him again.

Boom. mermaids. I have some fun world building I'm working on for that :)

Alright and another one for ya! I'm not gonna go into too much detail on the premise of this one, but the Clown Car, y'all know. I haven't written anything for this AU yet, but it's my baby. My child, my most unhinged of thought spirals. My clowns have been subjected to it, there's a playlist already, I have yelled about the world building and I have tortured friends with all the potential angst, but I have not put any thoughts to word.

So, now you're gonna get my first snippet.

The first thing that hits Chay, when the smell of burning oil stops singeing his nose hairs, is how green it all is. He’s not really surprised, he saw Earth from the portholes aboard Orpheus every day. Logically, he knows there were still swaths of green speckling the planet, but seeing it is another beast altogether. For one, it’s greener. Whatever had happened, whatever they avoided all those years in orbit, it had at least done some good for the local flora. 

A shout from behind him drags Chay out of his trance. The spacecraft he called home for three years, The Orpheus, lay in a hulking mass of twisted metal and black smoke, the smell of exhaust still hung heavy in the air. Most of the crew had managed to crawl their way out of the smoldering remains, tarnishing their white landing suits with dirt stains and holes, but Bank has a leg pinned under what used to be the support strut between two habitation pods. It now resembled something like a melted twizzler. 

The shouting had come from Ice, calling the other crew to help fish Bank out of the wreckage. Chay turns to move toward her, but is caught, enraptured by a streak of color in his periphery. A flower. It’s a stark orange, with five petals curling outward invitingly, its pistil and anthers long and the same color as the petals. Some kind of rhododendron, Chay thinks. He hasn’t seen a flower in the wild since he was a child. 

More noises echo through the crew behind him, but Chay can’t pay them any mind. A flower. A flower, growing right there out of the dirt with no greenhouse, no fertilizer, exchanging gas with the Earth’s atmosphere. And it’s blooming, He traces a fingertip reverently over a petal. He’s almost sure his fingers will pass right through it, but they don’t. Its petals are soft and slightly warmed by the afternoon sunlight streaming through the forest canopy. It’s real. 

The murmuring behind Chay grows pointed and excited, before Song calls his name in a whisper shout. Chay turns around to see the crew, standing hushed and quiet. They look like they’ve paused in the middle of what they were doing, and are staring off somewhere into the brush behind the wreck of the Orph. Chay leaves his flower with one last caress, and walks parallel to the wreck so he can get an angle on what’s caught everyone’s attention and then– 

There. In a gap between two wild, untrimmed bushes stands a doe. If wild plants were rare then wild animals– well. 

She stands, ears and nose twitching as she stares down the eight of them. Chay remembers Porsche telling him once about a deer he and Mom saw when they were camping. In those days, the outdoors were more livable, he’d say. The deer had been a stag, young with short antlers. They had come across it while hiking a short trail, and it had skipped away in its hopping gait before Porsche could get close. Now, Chay waits for the doe to realize what they are and bolt. Her nose twitches one more time, and she takes a step forward. 

And then the doe charges. 

heheheee

So. That's what's tumbling in my brain right now. I don't know when I'll write it bc I have a lot of world building to do and lots of different ideas for plot points. Basically it's gonna be novel length and i'm dreading it :')

okay so that's it for me, idk who all's been tagged so i'm just gonna throw my seeds to the wind. @shubaka @fuckyeah-itme uhhhhhhhh yep idk. anyone else who sees this and wants to do it! Have fun!

#kinnporsche #kimchay #fan fic #my fic #tag game #long post

[blackjackkent]

"Did you enjoy our little demonstration?" the sa'varsh asks with a cool smile as the boy's body is dragged away. "A mere taste of the power Vlaakith commands."

Rakha raises and lowers one shoulder in a half-shrug. She did enjoy it, yes - or at least that dark thing that lives inside her did - but she doesn't feel the need to explain that to this man. "Why was the boy refusing to fight?" she asks instead.

It's a serious question - her usual hunger for facts to build up an image of the situation, piece by piece - but the sa'varsh hears something else in it, for he stiffens defensively.

"I have no interests in whatever delusional beliefs the boy harbored," he snaps. "The illithids infecting this region are not to be reasoned with. They are to be exterminated. If the boy was too stupid to realize this, his death is a mercy for the warrior next to him."

Rakha thinks this over in silence as the sa'varsh walks away. The words don't quite mesh in her head with the question she asked. Delusional beliefs. As near as she can tell, the boy only did not want to die - which is perhaps cowardly in gith culture, but delusional?

He mentioned something, though, just before the sa'varsh sentenced him to the duel. A word, or perhaps a name, clipped off and interrupted. "Orph--"

There is something more here she does not understand. The boy believed something counter to his sa'varsh's teachings, and that is why he refused to fight - and why he died.

She walks over to the boy's body where it still sits in its own blood at the edge of the training hall. No one seems to care when she bends down and examines the corpse. There's a small piece of githyanki slate in his pocket, like the ones carried by the patrol out in the pass. Tir'su, Lae'zel called it. Githyanki writing.

"To the Inquisitor at the creche," Lae'zel insists impatiently. "The zaith'isk's failure must be reported."

Rakha snaps back to herself. She realizes she's been sitting there next to the boy's body for some minutes, lost in the smell of the blood and the curious mystery of the slate. She straightens abruptly and stands up.

Ask Lae'zel about the disc from the creche.

Narrator: The disc appears in your mind's eye. Lae'zel sees it too and considers the vision.

(A/N: This is designed so that you could have the conversation without having Lae'zel have been there for the initial acquisition of the slate but it's pretty funny in context here because Rakha you could definitely just GIVE it to her. Maybe this is part of Rakha's ongoing campaign to convince everyone that slurping the worms is a good idea. "See, you get VR versions of all our loot acquisition!")

"Tir'su markings. Ancient. I recognize them, but I can't make sense of -- no, wait." Lae'zel's eyes narrow in concentration, focusing on the image of the slate in her mind. "The texts are enciphered, but there's a Commonspeech translation beneath, carved in a different hand. It's a story about- about Orpheus."

Narrator: Your head buzzes in concert with Lae'zel's, but it hardly matters. Even without the connection, you'd recognize her discomfort.

Rakha watches Lae'zel's expression carefully. The young warrior is still flustered and angry at the explosion of the zaith'isk - and, Rakha is sure, still suffering significant pain from what it did to her. But this slate the boy was carrying has troubled her in a different way.

Rakha doesn't want to care. Part of her is still angry at Lae'zel for how this has all played out. She's furious that all the confidence Lae'zel displays has been misplaced, and humiliated that she bought into it so without question.

But... she does care, regardless. It bothers her that Lae'zel has that troubled look on her face. This doesn't make sense, but it is so, all the same.

"You look uneasy," she mutters gruffly. "Are you all right?"

Lae'zel stiffens irritably. "I am fine," she mutters. "The slate is not. This text is heresy. I can hardly bear to read it, let alone speak it."

Heresy. Something relating to Vlaakith, then - or to an enemy of her. Is that why the boy did not want to fight on the sa'varsh's orders? He follows an enemy of Vlaakith?

This already tells Rakha more than she knew previously. There are factions, then, of the githyanki. Lae'zel's intense devotion to Vlaakith is not universal.

"That's fine," she says with a slight shrug. "I'll read it on my own time."

Lae'zel shifts her weight uncertainly; for a moment Rakha thinks she wants to discuss it further, in spite of her reservations. Then she shakes her head and turns away. "If you must," she says. "Nothing good can come of it."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #spent more time on this little plot point than was probably necessary XD #rakha and lae'zel are going to have to have a proper talk in camp at some point #and i don't think it's going to go well for anyone #rakha's mad and hurting and humiliated #and lae'zel is mad and hurting and humiliated #and they're both scared shitless and neither is the type to admit it #and also rakha broke lae'zel's heart by accident #10/10 interpersonal skills everyone #everyone else in camp jsut standing around awkwardly like 'really hope they don't kill each other'

[stillsimpinforfanfiction]

Reflecting on the Sandman Series

‼MAJOR SANDMAN COMIC SPOILERS‼

‼‼‼SANDMAN SPOILERS‼‼‼

So I just finished the comic and first off, I have to preface this by saying that Neil Gaiman is an AMAZING author and it truly is one of my favorite works of fiction of all time, Morpheus being probably my favorite character of all time. After sobbing for hours following the ending, though, I have many thoughts.

To say I am heartbroken is a SEVERE understatement. Words cannot explain the grief the latter part of this series gave me, but I am going to try.

This isn't at all to blame Gaiman for my grief, as I caused it myself. But a major reason I became so incredibly attached to this series is because I am struggling with finding happiness and love in life, myself. And for the majority of the series, we see an entity, weighed down and tormented by the darkest things humanity can dream of in all the universe on a daily. He's been alone, depressed, and not truly in love (more on this later) since close to the beginning of time. However, despite everything he has to put up with, having the universe against him it seems like, and being forced to be alone with his thoughts for the closer part of a century, he starts to change.

This change is what drew me into the series. The small interactions he had with others, teaching him, or reminding him more-so, of empathy and compassion and that even something as omniscient as him can feel love. For the majority of the series, this is shown through multiple arcs and characters of course, the last true one being his journey with Delirium. The series fills you with hope, even references the importance of hope itself, over and over, making you believe that perhaps Dream CAN view the universe differently, and become happier through doing so. I grew attached to Morpheus, seeing myself in him as he tried to learn to become happier and to love.

That is, of course, until the end of the journey with Delirium. When Dream met with Destiny and learned about what he would do to Orpheus, I knew something was changing, but I had no idea it would signal the end of him, of everything really. This was a turning point in the series where Dream went from finding small joys, humors, and delights in other beings, not of his creation, to....essentially giving up. He still had empathy, of course, but in a remorseful way. He was not finding joy in his interactions with anyone after this, not even his last meeting with Hob.

Morpheus had changed, but not in the optimistic way the series implied he would up until then. He learned to be compassionate, but at the same time, the walls holding up his emotions for all of eternity, finally came crashing down, and they took him with it.

At least, that's how I interpret it.

Earlier in the series, it is referenced that Dream originally wasn't goth/depressed/whatever you want to call him, and actually shone like a rainbow, radiant and happy with his first love. But after Desire made her leave, Dream became who we know him as for the rest of time. All of his succeeding lovers, in my perspective, he did not truly love.

He thought he did, saying he would give them anything that they could ever want and burning them with his "all-consuming" passion, as Calliope put it, but I don't believe it was love. It was infatuation. In every case after his first love, Killala, he barely even knew these women before pledging unending loyalty to them, only to lose interest in due time.

I don't believe Dream ever was close with anyone truly. His only two friends, Hob and Matthew, barely knew him. He never spoke of himself to anyone, likely not even his lovers, as mentioned during their affairs that he was more interested in knowing about them. Dream never allowed anyone close enough to him to hear his grievances, to know his deepest feelings, except perhaps Death on a few occasions.

Then, after closing off his emotions entirely for eons (besides his brief heartbreaks from his affairs), they all came flooding back to him when forced to finally confront his son, who he had never let himself grieve for after two millennia. I think this scene was so much more than just about Orpheus, it's when Dream likely felt everything he had suppressed since the beginning of time with his first loss of Killala and betrayal of Desire. He felt that he had no further loose ends after dealing with his son, knowing he had fixed any wrongdoings he could since his escape from his entrapment. He never let himself be someone, always confining himself to his realm and creations. Putting his passion into someone, only to lose it when he realized they were not who he wanted them to be.

I wondered why Gaiman made the final issue of the series about the second Shakespearean play for Morpheus. How could any side story possibly be relevant after seeing his death and the creation of the new Dream? That was, until the last few panels where Morpheus reflects on who he is.

"I am prince of stories, Will, but I have no story of my own. Nor shall I ever."

That's how he had always felt, disconnected from the universe and not associating with humanity the way his siblings could. He never saw himself as important, only his position. Only defined by his responsibilities and role as Dream. That's why he never allowed himself to truly let anyone know him: Hob, Calliope, Matthew, Death, anyone. He cared for them and loved them more than they probably know, but he did not believe himself worthy of their love, or of anyone's. And in the end, he found solace in leaving his realm and all of life where these feelings that had consumed him could no longer.

The dream Hob had about him, after Morpheus' death, was just another punch in the throat to me. Sure, he was with Hob and Destruction and surrounded by beautiful places as a Star, but even in death, he did not seem happy. He still looked lost, empty, and as sad as he had throughout most of the series, if not even more-so.

So, to conclude, this comic has partially ruined my view on life. The hope it gave me in the beginning was playing out in my own life, inspiring me to maybe try and find love in small ways in this world, the way Morpheus was learning to. But in the end, he never did find it, at least nothing strong enough to make him stay, and I think part of me died along with him. This is a beautiful story, and I'd recommend it to everyone, but it has most definitely torn me apart.

#neil gaiman if u see this i love your story #thank you for creating such a masterpiece #yes it is incredibly sad but i absolutely love it ♡ #id love to hear anyone else's thoughts on this btw #i just feel so Distraught #the sandman #sandman comics #sandman spoilers #sandman comic spoilers #dream of the endless #morpheus #dream #oneiros #kai'ckul #sandman #angst #tragedy #the kindly ones #sandman comic ending #sandman ending