#but he didn't have all the knowledge to realise what he had done if you ask me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urlocalfeiner · 1 year

Text

is it selfish to want you? | neteyam sully

gif by me!

pairing: neteyam sully x omaticiya!fem! reader

warnings: so much fluff, swearing, heated kissing, bonding, mating, intimate

a/n: both neteyam and you are about 17 in this, as to my knowledge that is when na'vi are declared as adults and are allowed to find a mate. please correct me if i am wrong!

masterlist!

neteyam sully was a boy of many things, he was a mighty warrior, loved by most- desired by more. he was easily one of the most sought out na'vi in the clan, many women in the clan had their eyes on him. they would do anything neteyam asked of them in a heartbeat- all waiting in anticipation for the day he would pick a mate to help him lead the clan.

but neteyam paid no attention to any of them, he had interest in not one other woman in the clan, except for you. his heart belonged to you and you didn't even know it. to him no na'vi even held so much as a finger to you and your beauty, your strong heart and mind- he honestly couldn't pinpoint any flaw you had even if he was held at gunpoint because in his eyes you truly had none. you were completely and utterly perfect.

but the one woman he wanted was the one that wasn't chasing after him- what he didn't know if that you had been pinning after him just as he did for you, but you were sure he did not return the feelings you had for him. he had all these women wanting him, why would he want you?

"neteyam!" he snapped his head at the sound of your voice calling his name, watching as you approached him with a small smile on your face. he was sitting on the forest floor carving a piece of wood. "do you know where kiri is?"

neteyam would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when you asked him where his sister was, "sorry, i do not know." you sighed, plopping yourself down on the ground next to him- only now taking notice of what he was doing, carving something.

neteyam saw you were staring at what he was making out of wood with curiosity. "this is for tuk, lo'ak broke her other ikran toy." he tried to show you a bit better, removing his thumb a bit to make it more visible.

you chuckled- which brought butterflies to neteyam's chest. "poor tuk."

"i would say poor ikran, it got his neck snapped off." he joked, recalling how lo'ak accidently stepped on the wooden toy and tuk crying over the decapitated toy.

you laughed at his joke, "ah yes, poor ikran." he was not nearly done with carving the wooden toy, "do you mind if i stay?"

does neteyam mind if you stay? what kind of question was that? he did not mind, not one bit. with every fiber of his body he wanted you to stay- he wanted you to always be with him. "not one bit." he was excited that you wished to stay with him instead of finding the others which were probably doing something more fun than what he was.

you watched as his hands worked delicately, sure of every little move he made with his small knife when it met with the deep oak wood- your eyes slowly traveled up to his arms which were filled with muscle. it was no surprise, he was incredibly strong- his muscles just proved the point of it.

you admired his arms- as weird as it sounded, watching how the muscles tensed as he carved.

neteyam noticed how quiet you were being, turning to look at you slowly. realising you had your eyes trained on his toned arms, he felt a smirk coming to his lips- suddenly feeling confident. "my arm must be nice to look at, hm?"

you snapped your eyes away from his arm, heat spreading to your face- embarrassed you had just been caught staring at his arms. oh eywa, you have never wished to disappear more than you wanted to now. "uh, no?" it came out as more of a question than anything- you were a flustered mess.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to work on carving tuk's toy. he felt proud that he could make you flustered- and was never more grateful for his toned arms. "right, that is why you were staring at them for so long." he teased you more.

"i was staring at them because of how dirty they are," you tried to regain yourself, rolling your eyes playfully- his arms did in fact have dirt on them from when he was out hunting that morning. "you need to go for a wash."

neteyam glared at you playfully, swiping his finger on his arm collecting some dirt and smeared it on your cheek. you slapped his finger away, groaning. "neteyam!- you skxqwng!" you rubbed your cheek in attempt to get the dirt that he had put on your face off. "i just cleaned myself!"

he grinned as he looked at your cheek- which was smeared with dirt, in your attempt to clean it you had made it worse- spreading it. "my finger slipped, sorry." he innocently said.

you raised your hand, slapping the side of his head harshly- making him shoot his hand up to his head that stung from your hit. "sorry, my hand slipped." you repeated his words, smirking.

but your smirk soon vanished as a smug look came to his face- you knew he was about to do something. and you were proved right as he stood up quickly, urapiductly picking you up, flinging your body over his shoulders with ease. you had not time to react with how fast he was at doing so and before you knew it he began to walk- your face being smushed into his back as one of his hands was holding you in place, the other holding your legs so you don't kick him.

"neteyam!-" you hit his back with your fist, trying to make him let go of you. "let go of me!- ugh, bitch!" he chuckled at the name you had decided to call him.

you continued to hit his back- your punches had no effect on him, his hold becoming tighter on you as you tried to squirm off his shoulders- having no success. you stopped fighting him as he suddenly came to a stop, hoping he was about to let you down. he let you down, just not in the way you had planned for.

he moved you from his shoulders, now holding you bridal style- he held a smirk on his face as he looked down at you. you were confused, looking around you. your eyes widened as you saw a large pond in front of you- knowing what he was about to do. you looked back to him, narrowing your eyes dangerously at him. telling him not to do it. "neteyam, let go of m-!" before you could finish your sentence you felt yourself get flung from his arms.

the cold water hitting your body as you landed in the water, as you resurfaced breathing heavily from not preparing yourself you looked up to neteyam who was standing on the dry grass in front of the pond, watching you in amusement.

before you could open your mouth to speak, neteyam once again interrupted you this time by jumping into the water right next to you- causing a large splash, the water getting in your mouth. you were truly done with this boy.

neteyam pulled his head out of the water, flinging his now wet braids away from his face so he could see you clearly- you had a sour look on your face as you glared at him. he was grinning widely, showing off his fangs. "what? you said to let you go."

"not like that!" you yelled at him, keeping yourself afloat. "i am going to kill you."

he raised one eyebrow teasingly, amused. "oh yeah?"

without a reply you swam forward at him, hitting him repeatedly as he laughed trying to swat your hands away- he quickly pulled himself underwater and before you could react you felt yourself being pulled under as well.

you opened your eyes under the water that you had just been dragged under, seeing neteyam in front of you grinning. you lunged forward at him in the water as he quickly dodged you- not fast enough though as you got a hold of his tail, pulling him back. you felt a smile make its way to your face as you saw neteyam's angry expression under the vision of the slightly murky water.

he swam forward to you, wrapping both his arms around your body, trapping you- pushing you both deeper under the water- as the two of you stopped fighting one another he admired how you looked. your hair floating above you, which looked almost magical- your white spots that couted your face glowing in the darkness of the water. ewya, if neteyam didn't run out of breath from being in water for too long, he was sure you would. your blushed as the two of you held eye contact- it felt so intimate, his hands wrapped around you gently as he floated just aboved you looking down at your face.

you seemed to have forgotten you couldn't breath underwater for a second, it finally registered to you that you were out of breath as neteyam pulled you and him back to the surface to breathe.

as you reached it the two of you gasped for air, regaining your breath. when you did the two of you bursted out laughing- you were suddenly glad he had thrown you in the water. oh how much fun you had with him, he never failed to put a smile on your face no matter what circumstances it was under.

as your laughter died down, you realised how cold you were- shivering slightly from the water. neteyam too realising the coldness, looking at you, “come on.” he softly said, pulling you to the edge were the dry grass was.

neteyam reached his hand out to help you up, you took it gratefully- you too now on the dry land. as you emerged small droplets from the water coated your body, dripping slowly into the soul beneath you. neteyam felt his heart pick up its rhythm, you looked like a goddess, you always did.

“i can’t believe you chucked us both in the water with nothing to dry ourselves off with.” you groaned, glaring at neteyam playfully who shrugged innocently- more time with you that meant.

you sat down on a nearby rock that was by the large pond, neteyam following sitting right in front of you. waiting for yourselves to dry off. neteyam looked at you, you were still shivering- hugging your legs for warmth. he slid forward on the rock a bit, sliding an arm around your should bringing you closer to him- he rubbed your arm in comfort.

you melted into his touch, how was he so warm after getting out of the cold pond?- whilst you were still freezing. “you’re warm.”

he chuckled looking down at you, “you’re cold.”

you glared up at him, rolling your eyes. “maybe because you threw me into a cold pond?” he sighed, playfully pulling away from you- you missed the warmth of his body as soon as he did so, “okay, okay i’m sorry- please come back.” he laughed sliding back over, engulfing you in his arms once more.

it all felt so right, you in his arms. you silently wished to stay like this for the rest of your life, in his arms. neteyam too wished the same thing.

he stroked your hair gently, running his fingers through its dampness- you closed your eyes slowly, enjoying the head massage. neteyam smiled as he saw your peaceful expression, all he ever wanted to do was make you happy- and he wanted to do that for the rest of his life.

he continued to run his fingers through your hair, a comforting silence falling over the two of you. the only noise coming from the flowing water from the small waterfall that lead into the pond.

“thank you.” neteyam suddenly said, breaking the silence- which you were quite confused at what he was thanking you about.

opening your eyes, looking at neteyam with a confused expression. “for what?”

for what? for everything you did, for being alive, for being you- there were so many things he could thank you about. “for being there for me like today. it’s good to have some fun, training has made me have less free time lately- it may be selfish but, i miss it.”

your face softened as you sat up, removing your head from his shoulder. you knew he his father had been going harder on him than usual as he was coming quicker to the age of where he would become olo'eyktan- you suddenly felt like he needed a hug, or maybe you just wanted to be close to him. you didn’t really know. you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding his head with one hand the other around his neck.

neteyam hadn't realised how much he needed a hug until now, breathing in your scent that he knows by heart now. wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"i miss having you around too," you whispered into his neck, it sent shivers down his spine. you pulled away slightly so you could see neteyam's face, you pushed away a loose braid that always fell in front of his face. "and it is not selfish to want something, nete."

neteyam stared into your eyes, he swore he could drown in them and he would be completely content with going down like that. your words echoed in his mind, it is not selfish to want something- he wanted you to be his and him to be yours until the end of time itself- he yearned for you so much it hurt whenever he saw you speak to another male in the clan, he knew it was selfish of him but he only wanted you to speak to him. he wanted to be the one to show you the wonders of the world, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss your lips at night, he wanted to be the one whose name you whispered in the dark. neteyam sully wanted you and only you.

"is it selfish of me to want you?" his voice was quiet, in a whisper as the two of you held each others eyes. your mouth parted slightly, not sure if you had heard him right. had neteyam sully, the boy you had been in love with since young just speak those words? "is it selfish to want to be the only one that can look at you?"

"no." your voice was in a whisper, matching his. his eyes trailed down to your lips then back to your eyes- you had not missed it.

he reached out his hand placing it on your chin, gently pulling your face closer to his. you didn't fight it at all, you leaned in closer. your lips grazing each others. "good." he whispered against your lips, breaking the small gap between the two of you.

as your lips met his a spark appeared within you, whispering that this was meant to be. the kiss was short but was passionate, the two of your first kisses. neteyam loved that he was the one to be your first kiss and yours his.

the two of you broke away slowly, staring into each others eyes which were filled with desire and love. "you're so beautiful." he said as he pressed his lips to yours once again- this kiss was not like the first one, it was more messy, your lips chasing one another. he continued to kiss you, deepening the kiss as his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap- now straddling him with your legs. "is this okay?" he asked softly, searching your face for any slight bit of uncomfortableness- but there was none.

you smiled, cupping his jaw in your hand, leaning into him. "more than okay, nete." was this what heaven felt like?- that is what neteyam was asking himself, because this was heaven.

his name against your tongue as you kissed him- eywa, it was enough to make him fall limp. his hand was on your lower back, supporting you so you didn't fall as he slid his tongue into your mouth. the other hand on your jaw softly. your hands found it way to his braids, tanginling your fingers in them- trying to pull him closer to you.

his lips began to trail down your neck, earning slight whimpers from you. it was the most beautiful sound neteyam had ever heard in his life. "keep making those noises." it came out without thinking as he continued to suck on your neck- you were embarrassed by the whimpers that escaped your mouth, but when neteyam said that you felt all the embarrassment slip away.

he pulled away from your neck, smirking as he saw the marks he left scattered across it. "neteyam," you hissed, "people are going to see those, you skxqwng." though, you weren't sure if you actually cared.

he grinned at your annoyed expression, "then they will see you are mine." you couldn't help but smile at what he said.

that was when you decided to make it official, it was the biggest decision of your life- you had been told that it would be a hard one to make as you would be with the one you bonded with for life. but, this was the easiest decision you had made in your life.

you slowly grabbed your braid that fell behind your back, bringing it forward to neteyam. his mouth fell slightly agape, looking up to you. "are you sure?" he asked, worried you may regret it later- he knew he would in fact never regret it, he didn't want you to though.

"neteyam, i have never been so sure of anything before." you smiled softly at him, that was all neteyam needed- he grabbed his queue and brought it forward with his hand your queues mere inches away from one another.

the two of you looked at one other, as you brought your queues to the other. the tsaheylu was formed.

both you and neteyam's breath hitched and pupils dilated as you looked from the bond to one another- you had never felt anything like this before, you could feel him, everything. his breath, heart beat, his feelings to you.

"i see you, y/n." neteyam breathed out, you swore you had never been happier- and neteyam could feel how happy you were when he spoke the words through the bond which made him smile.

"i see you, neteyam."

eywa had heard the two of your wishes and answered them. you and neteyam sully were now one, mated for life.

#neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar way of water spoilers #way of water #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully x reader #sully family #neteyam imagine #neteyam scenario #na'vi x reader #na'vi #na’vi #neteyam smut

10K notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 2 months

Text

Worth it- 141 & Laswell

pic credits: @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot (left)and @ave661 (middle)

Based on a request: Wait, wait, first of all hope you're doing well and make sure to drink a glass of water if you haven't already. Cozy? Yeah? Okay, Can I request something (you can choose whether it's a HCor not,etc etc) on how TF141 would react to meeting a teen boy around 15-16, who's like a genius in engineering, mathematics, and physics? Like the boy could legitimately build a rocket if he had the time, help and materials. Maybe the meet him because he got in trouble with the government for unknowingly making a weapon? Maybe he made it for a class assignment and it was stolen without his knowledge? Whatever you think makes sense here. Leaving space for you to enter your own creative thoughts, just the general idea of it. The boy is based on a character of mine from a book I'm writing, his name his Michael, but ofc you can switch that up however you wish. Have fun with this one Ignore if it doesn't sound fun to ya <3 ---- M!Reader, genius!reader, platonic!relationship? ----

A/N: drank enough water, thanks for the reminder <3

Y/N, the name of the unknown internet user that had been chased by many governments and caught by the one and only Task Force 1-4-1.

You created something so dangerous that no one believed Laswell when she told her bosses the age you had when you started all this. You created the one thing most geniuses working for the government didn't know existed outside of the numbers and graphs they had done for it. At first, the FBI had named you un-sub A. Now, they can finally put a name to the unknown face.

How were you caught? Well, it wasn't easy, let's start there. When all this mess began, you were no older than fifteen. You are practically a ticking bomb to the government so when they heard that someone was asking the right questions to chemists around your city, they began to search for you. Laswell at the time was on a small break from work but the journals you had left in your parent's home when you ran away one rainy day.

In the journals, Laswell found all she needed to have a task force assigned to find you. She called it Operation Mikey, the name was just to fill in the void of the one thing she couldn't find, you.

Your parents weren't much help in giving your name, hence why Mikey became a temporary replacement. With them high off any drug and you on the run with the rest of your journals, Price was tasked with finding you and making sure you were secured in their care.

For three months, you ran away. Moving to different cities and continuing your research of the chemical weapon you fabricated in your bedroom, the same one Laswell had locked in a laboratory somewhere in the capital of the country.

In month four, you found an abandoned building in the middle of the desert. That's where your laboratory, if you can call it that, began.

For months after that, you collected data and it wasn't until nine months later that Soap found you trading chemicals with some scientist that you were caught.

Once you were brought in, they had realised so much about you. You were way younger than what their profile had thought of, much more intelligent than they'd think a person your age was and so skilled in engineering, mathematics, and physics.

"Why didn't we find his information sooner," Laswell questions her bosses. "Kid was never even registered by his parents." The man on the phone answers. "How the hell did he even get this kind of education then?" She asks again but you had that answer.

"My parents just bought me books and hired a weird guy from the street to teach me anything," you respond and Price chuckles. "Bullshit, kid. Now tell us, how the hell did you get all of these journals?" He points to the evidence bags. Your research of months now being read by other scientists.

"I am the creator of them, not let me go," you protest against Ghost's grip on you. "No chance," Price barks. "What's your real name?" Laswell asks you. "Y/N," you answer knowing it was either this or get thrown in some federal prison.

"And you created this weapon? do you have any idea how dangerous it is to create something like this? How many people it would take to create a mathematical concept and then make it into a physical form?"

"It's not that hard, lady," you answer with an attitude. Were people this dumb?

It took hours, lots of bribing and one request from Soap and Gaz to give you food for you to open up. What? you are a teenager who needs enough food for growth, of course, you'll talk once they give you food. Talking and having to dumb it down took hours though. After all, how can you explain to hardheaded soldiers about probability theory, and why it mattered so much to your project that it took ten trials and two journals worth of failed work to get?

Laswell was more than impressed, no seriously, she was like a proud mother listening to you explain every page and even give notes in only a way that a teenage boy would to idiotic adults like them. She thought it was so adorable how a boy your age would throw nerdy jokes into the explanations and how she watched you be the only one to laugh at them.

Ghost would often smile when you'd give a snarky comment to Price. Don't get him started on the chuckles he let out when you threw a few old man jokes at Price or made comments on Soap's weird hairstyle. The comments towards Gaz were funny but also adorable how you tried to find more reasons to get him annoyed.

Price thought of his son who was about your age when you'd get excited over your most recent discovery for the weapon you had created. It was nice to know that behind all that matter in your head, you were still a kid. It was even nicer when you'd make the jokes no one understood but secretly, Price's nerdy self understood some jokes.

Gaz saw his younger brother in you, which is why even when you made jokes at his expense, he would let them pass. The way you looked at him when having to explain things was nice in some way but it was way funnier when you called Soap the smart one of all four for being able to understand the way bombs work better than anyone and then have Ghost shake his head and tell you, "that man is just a muppet, don't believe what we tell you about his work."

Soap was fascinated by you for sure. Just like Price, he understood some of the jokes, even the cheesy puns you made about certain elements. He liked you, it was something fresh from the people he usually deals with.

The team, for the past few days, grew to adore the nerdy man you are. Yeah, you teased and even called them out on wrong facts but it was new. It's good to have someone so intelligent and be so honest with them this time. What was funny is that you know so much about many topics few understand but you don't know much about real life outside of the nerdy realm you live in. It's a nice feeling when passing by Laswells office you find a framed picture of the day Ghost and the other men of the team taught you about hunting and even how to play baseball, something you sucked at in the beginning but have gotten better over time.

It's like having four funny, serious, and cool dads and an amazing mum whilst being taken care of at the base the team called home.

A/N: I hope this was somewhat okay and good luck on your book!

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @froggy-anon @jinxxangel13 @enarien @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @avidreadee123 @ikohniik @konigssultwithghost @luvecarson @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @marshiely @sleepyycatt

191 notes · View notes

lillaluna · 4 months

Text

what was between us in your fantasy?

Pairing: Childe, Wriothesley, x f!Reader

CHILDE

You should have remembered halfway to work that you left your personal diary lying on the bed. And that was all right, but the danger was that you were living with Childe, and there was no guarantee that he would not enter your bedroom without your knowledge.

And now you were rushing back home to hide the diary, away from the prying eyes of Ajax, about whom it said… a couple of lines. How relieved you were when you entered the house without hearing a sound that said there was anyone there but you. And with a relieved exhale, you walked towards your room.

"What the hell!" You reprimanded, and crossed the room with a quick stride. Finding yourself by the bed, on which Childe was unceremoniously sprawled with his foot on the leg, you snatched your diary out of his hands, praying to all the archons that the guy hadn't read too much.

"Hey, on the bright side," the red-haired harbinger objected, trying to grab the notebook by the edge of the cover, but you clutched it to your chest in one fell swoop.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that taking other people's stuff is not allowed?" You glared angrily at the smirking guy who had changed his posture and was now sitting with his legs hanging off your bed.

"It says it about me, I had every right," Childe mouthed cheerfully tilting his head to the side.

Almost groaning at the realisation that the guy had read exactly what you feared, you bit the inside of your cheek and covered your eyes to calm the panic that was about to overwhelm you.

There was a creak of bed springs, followed by a couple of quiet footsteps. You opened your eyes and your gaze rested on Childe's chest, who was a head taller than you. Lifting your gaze, you swallowed the nervous lump that lodged in your throat. Ajax was looking down at you with a slight smirk on his face.

"I…" You started, but realised your voice was hoarse. Coughing and clutching the diary more tightly to you, you boldly met your eyes with Childe's blue eyes, "… whatever you read in there, just forget it."

"Well…" the red-haired man stretched out, after which he shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I might have done that if…" the guy stretched out his hand to you, from which you took a step back avoiding his touch. No, you weren't afraid, on the contrary, you couldn't be sure you could, then walk away and move on without that touch. "I have a question for you," with those words Childe took a step towards you and the distance between you, became even more negligible than it was before you had distanced yourself. The boy placed his hands on either side of your head, resting them on the wardrobe door behind you, blocking your escape route. Ajax leaned in so that his face was level with yours, and the gesture made your breath catch and your heart do a somersault in your chest. You'd never, in the years of your friendship, been this close to Childe.

"What are you…" you whispered, but you couldn't squeeze out any more words as Ajax's playful but deep gaze travelled deep into your mind.

You clutched the diary even more, as if it could save you from this obsession, while the harbinger opposite you hesitated, clearly enjoying your excitement.

"I have not had time to read just one thing," Childe whispered softly looking at your lips and then returning his gaze to your eyes, "what was in your fantasy between us next?"

WRIOTHESLEY

Blinking sleepily you tried to focus on where you were and who was standing in front of you. Shifting in your chair, you looked down at the papers on the table in front of you and saw a wet stain resting on the letters, causing the fresh ink to smudge. Blinking sleepily once more you yawned sweetly. The click that the ghastly realisation made in your head sent a chill down your spine.

Of course you were at work, sitting at the desk Sigewinne had given you since you were interning under her supervision, and in front of you, with his arms crossed over his chest, the Duke of Meropide himself was watching intently as you recovered from your nap. Sleep… You fell asleep on the job.

"Your Grace," you spoke softly, nodding your head lightly. It was impossible to tell what the guy in front of you was thinking right now, his face was impenetrable and his gaze was just focused. You didn't really want to look at the duke closely, not to embarrass yourself more, because his presence in the room made you nervous. And yes… You fell asleep on the job.

"You've got one here," the guy was pointing somewhere at the corner of his lips when you looked up at him. Your hand darted to your mouth, and you were horrified to find a wet mark there. Shamefully covering your eyes, you tried to keep the picture out of your head of saliva dripping from your mouth as the Duke, the guy of your dreams, came over to wake you up.

"Thank you," you quickly mouthed, hoping your cheeks weren't too red. "Were you looking for Sigewinne, Duke?"

"Actually, yes," the guy said, "but…"

"I'm sorry, I went to bed late last night…" You started to justify yourself, causing Wriothesley to smile slightly.

"Do you know what you say in your sleep?" Interrupted the Duke interrupting you shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What?"

The guy took a few steps towards your desk before resting his palms on the wooden surface, looking up at you.

"I haven't had much of a chat with you while you were asleep, and I just want to ask one thing. What was between us in your fantasy?"

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #ajax #duke of meropide

192 notes · View notes

amuseoffyre · 6 months

Text

Stede's progression of realising how bad things became is so quietly done through s2. Especially since the start point is him knowing Ed marooned his crew.

Plus, despite what everyone seems to think about him, Stede knows a lot more about Ed's past actions than they seem to realise. He knows about Ed's dad (something no one else knows), he knows about the burning ships and the toe-cutting and the skinning.

He just is... coming at it from the wrong angle at the start of the season.

"he's just letting off some steam" - it's still all just pirating activity, if a lot more intense than usual

"why would he [kill me]?" - Stede still not grasping how much he meant to Ed and how much damage his departure did

"I'm afraid your life is better without me" - and also still of the belief he will always and only be a last choice

"Ed pushed you? Why would he do that?" - the realisation that the stuff that happened to his crew was because of him

"I hurt Ed so much he pushed you off the ship" - not just realising it, but acknowledging it and recalibrating his perspective to see that not only did Ed actually genuinely care for him as much as he did for Ed, but that in leaving him behind, he's sent Ed on a downward spiral.

"I think I hurt him pretty bad" - again, acknowledging he did a wrong and determined to fix it

"I'm not ready to believe [that the time he spent with me is the best it's ever going to get for him] - the conviction that Ed can and does deserve to have some more of the happiness he craved when he just wanted "to be Edward"

his entire interrogation of the Break-up Boat crew, knowing full well that they're all lying but not able to get a clear answer

It speaks measures that he goes from thinking "Ed wouldn't want to kill me because he probably didn't even notice I was gone" to piecing together all the pieces of evidence and realising how truly shattered Ed is. It's a slow, steady realisation and in that confrontation with Izzy in the cabin, it has all crystalised into the knowledge that "he was going to watch the world burn or die trying".

He always knew what Ed was capable of, even if the crew thought he didn't or was being foolish and naive about it. "It feels pretty complicated. It feels bad", he admits when he knows how badly Ed hurt them, especially when he now believes it's all his fault.

"I let him down and I'm the cause of a lot of this", he says, so everything he does after that is in the name of trying to make things right. He does right by the crew, he negotiates with Zheng for their release, and even after he finds out they killed Ed, he still works to save them all, because he knows they don't deserve to die for saving themselves.

And then when Ed comes back, he agrees to let the crew decide Ed's fate - they voted him out (and I'm so curious about who voted how because Izzy's vote was the decider) but Stede said he would ask the crew if he could come back as well and clearly, they allowed it.

He spends so much of the rest of the season trying to undo all the damage he believed he had done, both with the crew and with Ed himself, even if he may or may not be very good at it. He tries and continues to try to make amends and I like him very much for it.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet

291 notes · View notes

baldval · 12 days

Note

More Husk please! I loved the one you did. My heart was like 😚❤️‍🔥

It's common knowledge that some cats don't like water. Mine actually does though, haha 😆

So maybe somehow Husk got wet and is all grumpy because of it. (Maybe Niffty set something on fire and caused the sprinklers to go off, idk) so reader helps dry him off and is being all soft and sweet and he can't keep his feelings to himself anymore?

Ughhh I love this purrfect man so much ♡

DANG!₊˚⊹♡

characters: husk x gn!reader

wc: 861

warnings: cursing, making out

a/n: idk if i like this but here it is

"For fuck's sake." Husk was mad. Very mad.

You had decided to bake something for the group, some simple chocolate chip cookies. You were following a recipe you had found online, and everything was going great, until you confused Farenheit with Celsius. That lead to, not only the cookies being burnt, but the smoke also activated the sprinkles in the kitchen.

Coincidentally, Husk had just entered the kitchen to look for a snack.

So now Husk is wet, and he hates being wet.

You felt terribly sorry, apologising a million times as Husk kept telling you it was okay, but you could tell he was angry, even if he tried to hide it to not hurt your feelings.

So you offered to help him dry up, taking him to the bathroom and caressing his body with a towel. However, his fur seemed to be hyper-absorbant since that didn't really seem to help and Husk kept being annoyed at his current state.

He closed his eyes and sighed, your fingers lifted his chin up so you could start using the towel to dry up his face. He groaned.

"Sorry" you mumbled "I'm almost done."

His eyelids opened slowly, finding you close to him, his dark eyes fixed on yours, you noticed he started studying your face, growing ashamed of the fact you were ashamed.

"Really though, it's okay" You looked away from him as he spoke. "I really don't mind."

"Except you do." You took a step back, away from him, unaware of the fact Husk wanted you to be closer not further. "I can feel it."

"I mean- yes I was a bit annoyed..." you turned your gaze towards the floor, when he realised this, he held your chin, forcing you to look at him. "but, it's okay. It will be a funny story." You smiled at him and he chuckled. "How do you even confuse Farenheit with Celsius?" You laughed. "I really don't know. I guess I never bake." "I'll have to teach you then."

"Oh, I would love that."

A silence filled the room, yet not uncomfortable. The towel was now laying on a table while you both stared at eachother, smiling.

Husk's eyes moved towards your lips, it seemed as if he was almost analysing them.

You noticed this. "Do you like my lips or why are you staring?" You teased, he immediately stopped staring and you could see how his cheeks where gradually getting redder. "I'm joking, don't worry." "Yes." You looked at him confused. "I do like them." It was your turn to blush as he got up and closer to you, a finger of his over your lip. "They're quite pretty." Your body went stiff, realising what was going on: dim lighting, silence, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Oh, and also, Husk had just confessed he liked your lips, whatever that meant.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Husk closed the distance between your mouths, hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Husk’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his torso, fingertips grasping his fur to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your hands moving towards his neck. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

“What…” the cat-like bartender tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on the back of his neck, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel headcanon #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel husk #husk #husk x you #husk headcanons

108 notes · View notes

wistfulcynic · 7 months

Text

a non-izzy-centric reading of the events of season two

i didn't really want to get into this because it's so, so tiresome and i'd rather talk about the things i loved about this season. Poison, positivity, etc. But.

reading this post about people doubting their own judgement due to the overwhelming noise from Izzy stans along with a rewatch of season two from start to finish made me realise that i too had been influenced by a year and a half of being intensely frustrated by people insisting so loudly that OFMD was in fact the Izzy Hands Show. My initial issues with S2 mostly stemmed from overcompensating for that by resenting any development of Izzy on the screen because i did not want it to feed those people. Which meant that i also was centring Izzy in a way that he should not be centred! i was letting their noise lead me to read him as far more important than he actually is.

So i looked back at several points from the season that had me feeling uncomfortable and which, from a cursory browse through the Izzy tag i've concluded his stans see as a contradiction or a betrayal or something and re-evaluated them from the perspective of Izzy not being a main fucking character.

point one: "He's our dick."

When Archie (a newcomer and therefore a fairly effective audience stand-in for anyone not balls deep in fandom bullshit) asks Jim why they're going to so much trouble for Izzy, who she has immediately clocked as "kind of a dick", Jim gives this response. Which, if you think Izzy is important, may read as an expression of reluctant fondness. But then, Jim continues: "There was a time when life meant something on this ship. When we lived for each other, not just to survive." These lines are punctuated by a flashback to the famous Revenge crew found-family Renaissance-painting moment. Jim is nostalgic for the "good old days" of the Revenge under Stede's people-positive management style. It is out of respect for that (seemingly) lost way of life that they take the trouble for Izzy, not for Izzy himself. They'd have done the same for anyone, because they desperately want life to matter again. Izzy, as the person whose gamy leg is a direct result of his threatening Ed and bringing the kraken era down on all of them, is simply the one whose life happens to be on the line.

(honestly, i love this from Jim, who was one of Stede's boldest detractors in season one and still the crew member most likely to call him out on his bullshit. That's your "reluctant fondness" moment right there.)

point two: the new unicorn

apparently Izzy stans see the gift of the unicorn leg prosthetic as a symbol of deep love and respect from the crew to Izzy. Which is an absolutely wild reading when you look at what led up to it.

There's tension on the ship. Divisions. Lucius is chain-smoking and jump-scared by his own shadow. Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang are overcome by guilt over their mutiny and frantically scrubbing nonexistent blood from the deck in what is a fantastically darkly funny Lady Macbeth moment for them. Izzy is sloppy drunk and yelling nonsensical abuse at the unicorn masthead. Roach, Pete, Oluwande, and Wee John make a well-intentioned but ill-conceived attempt to bring everyone back together (i say "everyone" but Izzy, significantly, is not included) which leads to them all being at each other's throats in the sort of mutually-assured-destruction configuration that starts world wars. It's a great scene. Izzy is not a part of it.

until he interrupts them, throws the unicorn legs at them and in his drunken clumsiness breaks his prosthetic. He then pointedly refuses their offers of assistance and drags himself away along the floor by his arms.

my friends. This is peak pathos. The crew do not respect Izzy in this moment, they feel sorry for him. They realise that he's worse off than any of the rest of them and that knowledge brings them back together. Making the unicorn prosthetic is barely about Izzy at all. It's about the crew coming together, repairing the rifts in their found family and as a bonus helping out their grumpy second cousin who doesn't really want to be there but has nowhere else to go. It's also a very generous offer of a new place on the ship--as the new unicorn--and a fresh start. Because that's what life on the Revenge is. For everyone.

point three: la vie en rose

much has been made of Izzy putting on drag makeup and singing at the Calypso birthday party, and fair enough. That's a big character development point for him. i don't hate it, though i wish there'd been more build-up to it, a longer conversation between Izzy and Wee John at least (insert obligatory "fuck Max" here) but regardless, if we accept Izzy's amputated leg as cutting off his old self and replacing it with the unicorn then we can arrive at a place where he's able to participate in a drag performance without too much cognitive gymnastics.

i've written before about the curious choice to have Izzy sing La Vie En Rose in French (after he initially sang it in English) at the very moment when Ed and Stede are having sex for the first time. On first watch i felt viscerally troubled by it, it felt like a validation of the obsessive psychosexual reading of Izzy's feelings for Ed. Looking at the season as a whole, it feels more like a (cringy, creepy, waaaay over the line) attempt on his part to signal approval for Ed and Stede's relationship. Especially when taken in conjunction with his (super creepy, like wtf who greenlit this) interruption of their breakfast in bed the next morning to make a ham-fisted innuendo. Weird but okay i guess, it's not like Izzy and social niceties have ever gone hand in hand.

many people point to the drag scene as the crew embracing Izzy and welcoming him as one of them. Again, i don't disagree. But, also again, this is not specific to Izzy. This is just what they do. They also embraced Archie with her snake-cult stories, they re-embraced Ed (who yes, they do love, refutations of arguments that they don't love Ed are a whole other essay though) and later they embrace Zheng and Auntie and also Jackie who once stole their savings jar and threatened to cut off their noses. That's what they do! They embrace people! That's what the show is about!

point four: the death scene

i have to be honest, i still hate this. i don't hate that Izzy died, i hate that he died in Ed's arms with Ed calling him his only family. That still feels unearned to me, and alas was probably another victim of the shortened season. But even with this extremely kind and forgiving death scene, the stans are not satisfied! They feel that the entire crew should have been gathered round, assuring Izzy of their profound love for him. There should have been weeping at the funeral, wailing and gnashing of teeth, rending of garments etc. It's what he deserves as such a beloved member of the crew!

except he wasn't beloved. He was accepted, yes. Welcomed, even. But acceptance is a far cry from love. Cheering as someone sings a song at a party does not mean you feel ready to weep at their deathbed or proclaim your undying affection for them.

yet even so, the crew are visibly distraught at his death scene. There are tears in many eyes! But effusive declarations of feeling from any one of them other than Ed would have felt (to anyone not convinced Izzy is the main character) completely wrong and very weird. You can headcanon what you like to fill the gaps in canon but on screen we have seen very few meaningful interactions between Izzy and any of the existing crew aside from Fang and Lucius and to a lesser extent Wee John. Izzy's primary relationship with another character is with Ed and so, as much as i still don't like it, Ed is the only one who has any real reason to be at Izzy's side as he dies.

as for the brevity of the funeral and the fact that they went straight from it to Pete and Lucius's wedding instead of having, idk, a prolonged wake at which everyone speaks at length about how important Izzy was to them, i mean. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. More than enough screen time had already been given to a side character who spent most of it either being miserable himself or making others so. It was time for the rest of them to find some moments of joy. As Izzy himself said, not moving on is worse.

in conclusion, i'd like to address the people saying that Izzy should have lived so he could continue his arc of self-discovery and sure, that would have been great--on the Izzy Hands Show. But OFMD is about Ed and Stede and Izzy had served his purpose in their story. i feel certain there will be copious fanfics to soothe anyone who feels Izzy was shortchanged.

on the show, though, he was treated in a very logical and foreseeable way as the antagonist who was able to see the light at the end but not necessarily to thrive in such a well-lit environment. Literature (by which i mean also films and tv) abounds with examples of this sort of character. They see the error of their ways but they are too stuck in them, shaped by them, to exist comfortably in any other way. They help bring about change to benefit others and not for themselves, that is the bittersweet beauty of their endings.

Izzy let Ed go. He embraced the softer parts of himself. He died surrounded by people who may not have loved him but at least accepted him as one of their own and felt genuine sorrow about his passing. That is a satisfying narrative end for a reformed antagonist! If you truly feel that he was shortchanged by it then you have forgotten what show you're watching and what sort of character he was.

Izzy Hands: not the main character, still an interesting one, absolute nightmare, what a guy.

#our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd season two #izzy critical #the izcourse #izzy hands meta #sorry not sorry to people who are going to hate this post but writing it has been therapeutic for me #i'm tired of hating a character on a show i love so much so i shall go back to thinking of him as the nasty rat man and focusing on faves #saira has Thoughts

382 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 6 months

Note

I just had an idea! Rude Konig! Like My man Konig is just kinda a prick. Bumping into people, ignoring them, glaring at them, giving them the evil eye, thinking theyre disgusting, but he likes us. He thinks we're cute n shit, but ofc, he's still a prick and he thinks he's entitled to our affection. He thinks we're just playing hard to get because we wouldn't want him?

ohh, you're corrupting me with this idea :(

rude!könig is such a horrible prick. he's an annoying, rude bastard — and maybe it stemmed from being bitter when he was a teenager, bitter than he was disliked for ‘no apparent reason’... though, truthfully, he was just a freak with no manners.

he'd glare at people if they bumped into them, even cursing them out if they didn't apologise. it's as if he expected others to have manners when talking to him, but he wasn't expected to have the same respect.

rude!könig hates all the new recruits, he thinks they're stupid for asking for help, or asking a question könig thought was just ‘common sense’... he doesn't realise that he's more experienced, that he's been in the industry for longer so of course he has more knowledge and understanding :(

but he's such a bastard that he doesn't even care...

he met you at a coffee shop, when you accidentally spilled black coffee all over his cargo jeans. he grumbled out something incoherent, hearing you apologise profusely. but, instead of cursing you out for being a stupid bitch, he rolled his eyes and demanded a towel to clean up his jeans, his voice intimidating.

and even though he made a bad first impression, he couldn't get you off of his mind. it was like könig expected you to come suck his dick... i mean, after all, you owe him something for ruining his jeans :( könig comes to the coffee shop everyday, waiting for you to offer to make it up to him, but you don't!

it just really pisses him off.. he guilt trips you into feeling bad -- like you're a dickhead for a total accident :( describing what you'd done to be worse than what it actually was. “why don't you make it up to me, hase? you owe me, don't you? ja?”

#orla speaks #rude könig #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig cod #konig #könig #cod konig #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x reader smut

216 notes · View notes

river13245 · 2 months

Note

hii :D

i’ve a request, could u write kili durin x male!reader where the reader asks to braid kilis hair not realising that it’s courtship in the dwarfish culture. kíli has the biggest crush on the reader and takes this as a sign that the reader likes him back. the reader did not realise that’s what braiding a dwarfs hair means and was also totally oblivious to kilis crush on him and never noticed he was flirting and always assumed he was just very friendly, but obviously the reader likes kili back and it’s just total fluff 😋😋

thank you smm 💞💞

Braids and Courting

Kili Durin X Gn Elf Reader

Being an elf wasn't as great as some beings would think. Of course with being an elf there was skills you had to learn, that were useful. The long and beautiful hair, the soft skin, the pointed ears and the youthful look. All those were great of course.

What wasn't that great was being part of the higher class elves. This meant that eventually you would have to marry and usually you didn't love the person next to you. It was just part of the routine in everyone's life. However you didn't want to wake up next to someone that didn't love you. Or someone you didn't love.

So that's exactly why you left home when you did. It wasn't long before you met Gandalf the Wizard. Him knowing who you were of course, because that man had a lot of knowledge after all his years of living. He had stayed with you for a bit, and it didn't take him long until he invited you to join the group. Of course you could never say no to an adventure so you agreed.

That's exactly how you ended up right here. You had been with the group of dwarfs for a long while now. Even before the hobbit came along and joined you guys.

You were fairly close with fili and thorin, those two were like your best friends. The others you were like a family with except for one. Kili who was filis brother, he was someone you felt strong feelings for. Feelings that go past platonic or familiar feelings. No these were feelings of love, however you never knew how to express these types of feelings because you never really saw it being done.

Over the span of time there had been many moments where Kili had done very sweet things. Things that made your heart pound and your stomach feel weird but of course you thought it was just him being friendly.

-----

Walking around with Thorin in comfortable silence as you both looked for another path was interrupted when you hear someone join you. Turning to look who it was you saw Kili beside you. He looked up at you and held out some berries. "here I had a feeling you would be getting a bit hungry around this time. Have some of these, I have extra"

He grabs your hand and places the berries in your hand. "thank you but don't you need them?" Kili shakes his head "No take them" he squeezes your hand gently before walking back towards his brother. Leaving the quiet thank you that left your lips just drifting into the air.

It was too dark to see the faintest of smile form on Thorin's lips as you go back beside him and eat the berries that Kili had given you.

-----

There had been many times like this

There was one day when all of you had found a big field of flowers. You were so focused on drawing the scene. You liked to draw pretty things and so you were sitting by a tree drawing on a piece of parchment with a pencil you had brought.

In fact you were so focused you didn't even notice how Kili had been picking flowers and making you a flower crown. Eventually when he was finished he came and sat next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder for just a second before looking over at him "hi Kili"

Just the sound of his name coming from your lips made him smile. "hi y/n" he replied before grabbing the flower crown he had made you. "here put this on. Have to see if it fits"

You lower your head a bit so he could place it on your head. It fit perfectly and when you sit back up and look at him. He smiles and nods "perfect, it looks good on you" You smile and blush very softly. "thank you" he nods and walks away.

When he is a good distance away his brother. Your best friend comes and sit on the other side of you. "how long are you going to be blind to the fact that my brother is infatuated with you?" The shocked look on your face makes him laugh. "what? what do you mean, infatuated?"

He looks at you and sighs "You cant tell me you havent noticed the way he always makes you things and gives you things. Always making sure your cared for" Your silent for a moment before it all comes together. "oh"

Fili places his hand on your shoulder "i will let you decide what to do with this information" He gets up and walks away leaving you to think about what to do.

Kili had made something for you and given you things so you decide you should do something for him. You've recently noticed that he has been pushing his hair out of his face more frequently than normal so you decide you would braid his hair for him. Just so its out of his face.

You get up after putting your things away back into your bag. Then begin to walk over to where Kili is. When you get to him he notices you right away and looks at you. "hey Kili. Could you come sit with me for a moment?" He nods and walks with you and sits against the tree next to you.

"everything okay?" he asks a little worried but when you give him a nod and take a breath to calm yourself. "would you mind if I did your hair. I've noticed you pushing it out of your face a lot recently and id like to help?" He looks at you for a moment before turning around.

"what are you going to do with it?" He asks

"i'm just going to braid it. I promise I will make it look good" you reply

Kili looks straight ahead so you don't see the smile that's forming on his face. In the dwarf culture braiding hair is a sign of courtship. He didn't know if you knew that or not but either way he decided to play it cool. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable and you stop.

You kneel behind him on your knees to get in a more comfortable position. Then you begin to gently get all of his hair and pushing it back so you can split it into three sections. Once its in three sections you begin to twist them all with each other, braiding his hair very nicely.

Kili was sitting there patiently not saying much. But you do notice the way he rests his head against your hands. His whole body seems to relax under your touch and a sigh escapes him when you begin to gently massage his shoulders.

When you are finally finished you pull away and he turns around and looks at you. "thank you" he says and you nod. "you look very handsome Kili. I hope you will let me do it again sometime"

He nods and brings your hand up to kiss the back of it. "of course, you are the only one ill let touch my hair." You smile and nod "great ill be honoured" when the both of you get up and go your separate ways Kili gets a few looks since most of them know what this means.

You on the other hand are pulling your bag back over your shoulders. Doing your own thing, when Thorin walks up to you. "y/n" he says which causes you to look over at him. "Thorin"

Thorin looks at Kili and then back to you. "i'm assuming that you are the one that braided his hair?" You nod in response "yes I am, is that a problem?" He shakes his head "no of course not. I just have one question, Do you know that braiding a dwarfs hair means you are courting them?"

A smile forms on your face, no second thoughts are needed. "I know that now. And I find myself rather pleased that people will know that the both of us are together" Thorin smiles and nods placing his hand on your shoulder. "well its about time" he jokes a bit.

This causes you to smile and decide to tease him back. "how about you and the hobbit? When will you two decide to court each other" Thorin blushes very lightly and shakes his head "I don't know what you mean by that"

"mhm sure you dont" you say with a smirk before walking up to Kili. This time instead of standing beside him, you slip your hand into his and hold onto it. From that day on everyone knew that the two of you were spoken for.

#river13245 #fluff #male reader #gn reader #kili durin x reader #kili durin #the lord of the rings #the lord of the rings masterlist #kili durin fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #fili durin #masterlist

121 notes · View notes

littleprincepaladin · 6 months

Text

i don't think people in the fandom talk enough about how stupidly traumatising the abduction and the whole nautiloid thing must've been for Tav... or, really, any of the characters that were there. like i don't think its even ever addressed in the game, at least to my knowledge? so have this soft Raphael thingie, comfort for the nightmares.

------

Tav tossed and turned, bedsheets a mess below their stiffened limbs as heavy breaths escaped their throat. How long have it been? Months, years, maybe even a decade at this point? In dreams time is as elusive as a sea snake, just as slippery.

They relive it more often than they'd like to admit, but who wouldn't? The nautiloid was a nightmare. The scent of burning flesh, the slime on their hands mixing with blood, the faintest wriggling somewhere above their right eye.

Everything is unfamiliar, and they feel like a cornered animal. The painfully quick way their heart started to race and thud against their ribs, the blur in their vision as they looked out into the broken crimson wasteland that is Avernus. The cold realisation.

They taste the iron on their tongue, and the edges of their peripheral are soft and way too bright as they stumble their way out of the room, past the corpses and the tadpole sludge. They barely remember the gith woman's face, barely remember the trapped girl in one of the pods - have they saved her or not? Have they even got out?

Perhaps they got there too late, the dragon took the last strike and the vessel fell to the ground like a bird with an arrow through it's throat... perhaps it didn't. Did the ship fell into the depths of Hell, or has it fell onto the shore? Were they surrounded by imps and devils, or by goblins and the gnolls? Have they even made it out at all?

It wriggles somewhere underneath the surface, biting into the soft flesh, taking out chunks until it gets to the main course. Their brain is succulent, a perfect meal, a perfect nest. It's slimy tail wags with excitement as it crawls and crawls and crawls and crawls to the depths they never knew they had, bites into tissue they never felt before, and crawls once more.

They feel the skin of their face break and fall apart, they feel the bone of their jaw crack under the pressure of the tendrils as their body splits open, and its nothing but blood and gore and slime.

There is heat somewhere on their back, hellish heat, and Tav tenses as they try to get away even as their limbs won't listen. From the nautiloid, from the ash and the sulfur, from the war-torn land below as the vessel continues to fall.

They arrived too late to the helm, the illithid laid dead at the hellspawn's feet as it moved to take hold of them, and the heat got so much worse, surrounding, suffocating, they scream as the cambion grabs them, as they are pushed down into the ground, as the flaming sword comes closer to their rigid body and...

"Calm yourself," a familiar voice hisses somewhere at the back of their mind, and they snap awake, gasping for air as though they are a fish learning to breathe out of water. There is heat all around, including on their cheeks, trails of tears so hot they're convinced they will soon start to sizzle. But they stop thrashing about, their vision slowly coming back to sharp and clear as they open their eyes.

Raphael doesn't look pleased in the slightest. He looks irritated, face scrunched up in a scowl, his hair a mess as he holds them down, warmth prominent where his fingers almost bruise into their shoulders, where his claws leave faint marks. He's not particularly sorry about either of those.

"Quite done? Good," the devil chides, his voice hoarse and heavy with slumber as he holds them for a moment longer, and only then lays back down on his side of the bed, tail thumping against the mattress in annoyance. "One more stunt like this and I shall have you sleep on the floors of the dungeon instead," Raphael quips as he rubs his side, where Tav accidentally kicked him in their sleep, and from what it looks like, the kick was a critical success.

They look into the ceiling as they still lay there, cold sweat running down their forehead and slicking up the palms of their hands as their brain settles on one simple truth: it is over. It was over. Its been over for a while.

Nothing writhes behind their eye no longer, and the surrounding heat, although hellish... is familiar. Is comforting. Is his.

Raphael lets out a brief 'oof' as he is pulled almost painfully closer to the mortal, their arms tight around his body as Tav buries their nose in the crook of his neck, frantically breathing in the fading, faint smell of cherries. For them it's grounding, for the cambion not so much.

"Do refrain from testing my patience, mouse," he hisses through gritted teeth, but his voice carries less threat than he so obviously wants it to, instead being full of simple mortal exhaustion. But when they refuse to remove themselves from him, Raphael scoffs, relenting. They are lucky, right now anyhow.

The devil settles against them, hands coming down around their waist as he pulls them into a curled up embrace, his wings covering them like a crimson blanket. Raphael rests his cheek just above Tav's head, his nose against the pillow as he hears their breathing slowly start to even out and shuts his eyes.

Silence and darkness hangs over the two in a comfortable heavy weight, pressing down onto their bodies as the devil's heat renders Tav soft and numb, but they are far from sleepy now. They sigh into his throat, feeling the slightest stubble of his chin scratch ever so slightly against their forehead.

They don't want to close their eyes. That faint writhing and wriggling, it lingers somewhere in the depths of their subconsciousness, waiting in deceitful obedience. Tav spends what feels like an eternity just laying there, breathing in the cambion's scent.

"I dreamt of it," they whisper into his skin, and are surprised just how strained their voice sounds at that moment. Only then they realise the tears are still running down their cheeks, pooling onto the fabric of the pillow underneath and onto Raphael's neck. "Again... it's all of that again."

The noise in their ears subsides and they can hear their sobbing, and his breathing. Their eyes begin to sting as they try to calm down, but it makes the matters worse, their own breathing turning into sharp inhales once again, and as they breathe out it sounds like a quiet whimper everytime.

Tav tries to speak, but their words end up slurring together into an incoherent, quiet mess so much so even they themself don't understand what they wanted to say. They grip tight onto the devil's body, fingers finding the familiar ridges on his back, almost using them to cling onto sanity.

Raphael brings them close, his touch firm as he rests one hand against their cheek, brushing his thumb against the tear-stained redness of their skin. He sighs as he presses his own face against theirs, his breath hot.

"Quiet now, mouse," he lets out in a humm, his tone - a stone wall, cold, but just what a tired soul needs to lean on, and so they do. The claws against their scalp feels comforting as he brushes a lock of their hair behind their ear. "Don't mull over business long concluded, its unproductive."

They sniffle, and he grumbles in irritation and the want to go back to sleep.

"Not even the baldurians talk of it by now and yet your mind persists," Raphael scoffs, settling firmer against them as he hooks his leg over their own, practically trapping them in a haze of heat and crimson red. They welcome the pressure even when they feel the air leave their lungs from the sheer weight of the cambion.

So soft... it's not the first time Tav touches him like this, no, but the softness of his body surprises them everytime. They almost want to squeeze his thigh, affectionately. Perhaps another time.

He sighs against their face as he feels them calm in his arms, and lets his tail circle over their ankle, making it certain they cannot leave... or accidentally kick him again.

"Whoever touches you is sure to burn, little mouse. Now calm yourself," Raphael murmurs, closing his eyes, and only after a long moment of staring at his face does Tav, too, closes theirs.

"It's quite enough for you. Sleep."

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #can you tell this wasn't proofread either #I'm not too fond of how I write his speech. but. ah well. I'll learn #because by the looks of it this horned bastard will be in my head for a while #istg if this also gets shadowbanned 😭

156 notes · View notes

castiwls · 4 months

Text

january 24th - s.w

Pairing; Sam & daughter (oc) kinda

Synopsis; January 24th is a quiet day in the Winchester house

Warnings; angst

Notes; Ok so. I meant to post this a few days back and forgot lmao but basically long story short I was lying in my bed when this idea hit me. It probs makes no sense but it's set post-final. I also listened to Marjorie while I wrote this so take from that what you will.

Masterlist

What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, you're alive in my head

The house was quiet. He rolled over and saw the clock flashing 10:15 am. She must have taken the kids to school before going to work he assumed as he closed his eyes again.

Sam loathed this day. Every year it would reach a new year and instead of being happy to bring the new year in it felt like a great weight on his chest. January 24th was the worst day of the year for Sam Winchester.

He lay in bed simply staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t surprised that no one had woken him up. It was common knowledge to anyone around him that he did not function on this day. It was almost like he regressed back to the person he was 20 years ago in that barn.

And damn had it really been 20 years. That realisation only made it hurt more. 2 full decades with his brother.

2 full decades of his life Dean had missed.

He felt angry. Angry that just when life was looking good for once one last curve ball was thrown and suddenly Sam was doing this alone. He was angry for the life that his brother never got to live. Angry that he never got to meet his niece and nephew. Angry that he never got his own family.

He lay there stewing in his own guilt, anger, and grief before the sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention.

Sam turned his head to see a figure peeking out from behind the door. He felt a small smile grace his lips. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” He winced slightly at how raspy his voice sounded.

The door slowly opened more and in stepped his youngest Hailey. She was only 14 (recently 14) yet every day more and more she reminded him of his brother. Her own brother Dean didn’t resemble his uncle much and in a way Sam was grateful. Sometimes around this time of year saying his name could be too much, he didn’t know what he would do if his son also shared his brother's looks.

“Told mum I was sick. Didn’t wanna leave you alone.” She said quietly as she walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Sam sat up and sent her a weak smile. He simply watched her for a moment. She didn’t look much like either of her parents. She didn’t have Sam’s brown eyes or her mother's nose and hair. No Hailey Winchester had Dean green eyes, she’d had his blonde hair which had naturally darkened to a light brown as she had aged. She had his nose and most hauntingly his smile.

Sam tried to push the comparisons away. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He lifted the cover beckoning her to get into the bed. She grinned and accepted his invitation.

Sam felt his heartbeat pick up at her grin. Yet again all he saw was his brother.

Hailey moved closer to her dad allowing him to wrap an arm around her. “I would ask if you're ok but it seems like a stupid question.” She joked trying to soften his mood.

Sam chuckled before nodding. He pressed a kiss to her head before sitting back. Hailey was quiet for a long moment but Sam could tell she was thinking about something.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“Do you think he would have liked me? And Dean?”

Sam stiffened slightly at her question. He thought for a moment before smiling. “He would have adored you both. Would have spoiled you both too.” Sam smiled softly.

She smiled up at him with that damn smile. She settled back down into his embrace. “I wish I could have met him.” She said quietly.

Sam looked down at her and ran a hand through her hair. He wanted nothing more than for Dean to meet his children. Hell, when he’d first found out he was gonna be a dad the first thing he had done was go to call his brother. Then he remembered and put the phone down with a heavy heart.

He was quiet for a moment. He’d never really told Hailey much about her uncle. Sure he’d told Dean but he was older and he didn’t wanna freak Hailey out. Taking a deep breath Sam turned to his daughter. “I never told you about what happened when I left Stanford did it?”

He knew he would have to tell her the truth sooner or later. Tell her about the life he had lived before she’d been born. He glanced over to the clock. They had a good few hours before anyone would be home.

I know better But I still feel you all around I know better But you're still around

111 notes · View notes

asterdisaster06 · 9 months

Text

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing.

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two.

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart.

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off.

It had gone silent after those words were uttered.

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did.

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for.

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far.

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset.

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained.

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment.

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore.

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing.

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs.

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly.

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused.

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup.

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career.

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less.

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper.

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better.

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction.

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs.

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained.

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating.

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face.

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound.

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion.

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout.

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

195 notes · View notes

dearly-dreaming · 2 years

Text

•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆•

Title: To worship a king.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x fem!dream!reader.

Word count: 8003.

Warnings: Smut(18+ only - minors don’t interact) Oral (Male and fem receiving) unprotected sex(Remember to be safe!) Hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking, a little bit of angst and fluff.

Summary: You were Morpheus’ greatest creation and then you strayed from your purpose. You’re separated for a century and suddenly anger makes way for something else.

Author’s note: My first smut!!! Please tell me what you all think and if I should do more! I hope you enjoy and remember the gif isn’t mine!!!

•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆•

18+ Only. Minors do not interact!

You were lustful, Morpheus had made you that way.

He made you for the dreamers that dreamt of fantasies so intimate or seemingly impossible that they could only live them within their sleep. He made you to be passionate, sensual and intense. He made you with the ability to see one's wants and pleasures.

You were lustful and you were content with that knowledge. You enjoyed travelling through dreams and partaking in the pleasure humans felt so strongly, you enjoyed the euphoria and ecstasy of sex.

In the beginning, anyway.

You adored being able to pick up only any wants and desires, you relished in your experience and you prided yourself in the way you would leave dreamers gasping and missing some foreign touch when they woke.

But you soon realised lust and love were two sides of the same coin.

Especially when you discovered you were in love with your creator, your king, Morpheus.

It was a slow process. You doubted you would have figured it out if you hadn't watched those who dreamed of love, an entirely different intimacy than you were used to. You saw their dreams of lovers and crushes and with sly words from a certain golden-eyed being, you realised you acted much the same.

You always longed to be beside your king, to impress him and have him look at you with those proud eyes. You wanted him to tell you things only you knew. You wanted to know his mind and body in a way no one else did. You wanted him to love in a way no one else did.

Though, of course, you knew your feelings were foolish. Unrequited was the word.

You were just his creation, after all.

So you silently stood by as your king took other lovers, Nada and Calliope for example, and you stood by his side as all of those relationships ended in tragedy. You never said a word, hiding away your jealousy so deep that he could never sense it.

It went that way for centuries, millennia, aeons.

You thought your feelings would crumble, how terribly wrong you were.

They only grew and grew and your longed and longed. You just wanted him to look at you, stare into your soul and make his home there. You just wanted to be loved the way that mortals were loved.

Was that so much to ask?"

At some point, it had begun to get too much and you took to avoiding your master whenever you could, biting your tongue when you were forced to be beside him.

You just wanted affection.

The type mortals had when they danced under the stars and kissed on their wedding days. You wanted to be loved unconditionally, to have someone stand by your side just as you had done with Morpheus all this time.

And with some words from another one of Dream's proudest creations - The Corinthian- who also wanted to experience humanity. You decided you would.

You needed to.

You would break if you didn't.

It had worked for the first six months. You had met a charming human by the name of James Calton and you were taken by him in an instant. He was kind and thoughtful and pushed Morpheus to the very back of your mind.

It was wonderful, he treated you like a queen, kissed you tenderly, and always wrapped an arm around you when you laid in bed together, bare and peaceful.

You were in bliss.

And then it all came crashing down.

You had been skilful in your secrecy, telling your king you were needed by some other dreamfolk but never specifying who. You made sure to run errands and do chores to make it seem truthful, deepening the lie.

Then one fateful day, Morpheus had decided to change his schedule -something you always worked around - and went to library, where you said you were working. He couldn't find you, so naturally he asked Lucienne and she said you weren't there. He went to find you.

You had been seeing James off to work.

"I'll see you later, dear," You smiled sweetly, the ribbon he had tried in your hair whipping in the wind.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"James grinned softly, patting his lips.

You laughed, blissfully unaware as you pressed your lips to his, relishing in contentment. This is what love was.

"Goodbye, my love," He hummed gently, slipping into his car and driving off.

Then, you turned.

And your heart stopped.

Morpheus was standing a little ways behind you, face darker than you'd ever seen it. He was furious, enraged, it burned in his eyes, searing. He took a step closer and you knew your punishment was imminent.

You ran.

You knew it would only make him angrier but you were terrified, you didn't want to die. You didn't want to be banished into the darkness, or thrown into hell like Nada.

The shadows distorted.

You sprinted as fast as you could, heart thundering, chest heaving.

You darted around a corner but he was already waiting for you.

A cry was wretched from your lips.

A flurry of sand surrounded you like chains, tethering you to your excution. You knew he was taking you back to the Dreaming. You would never see James again.

It was worth it, you couldn't help but think, at least you knew what love felt like.

When the cutting sand cleared you were in the throne room. Morpheus stood before the steps leading to his throne, eyes glitning, demanding you got your knees and begged for mercy.

You clenched your hands as his pericing glare snatched onto your skin, burning. You tightened your jaw, you would not speak first, you refused.

You didn't need to.

Morpheus glared at you, voice harmfully sharp, "Prancing around with humans?"

You flinched at his condescending lily, waiting for him to continue.

He did, "Why?" His voice was brutal and you remained silent, "Answer me."

You could not resist his imposing command, "I..."

He glared, stepping closer, "You what?"

You shuddered, taking a deep breath as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, "I wanted to know what love was like."

His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed into slits, darkening monsterously. He spoke slowly, danger rippling in his voice, "Love? You wanted to know what love was like? You are a creature of lust and lust only."

It was your turn to glare, "Why can't I be more!? Why can't I be allowed to love and want affection!? To wake up to someone every day!? To spend the rest of my life with someone who shippers to my soul!? Why am I not allowed to be something more than lust!?"

You were screaming now, breath ragged as you stepped forward, almost chest to chest with Dream, finger pointed, glower painted across your face.

You had already dug your grave, why not make it deeper?

"Come on, Dream King, answer me that," You hissed, barely realising how close you were.

Morpheus glowered down at you, words coming out as a snarl, "Remember your place."

"My place!?" You barked a rueful laugh, "My place has been beside you since the beginning! I was created before this realm! I have been with you through it all, not only have I doubted you or left your side, entirely loyal! And you want me to remember my place!?"

Tears were beginning to spring to your eyes.

Remember your place.

No, you refused to accept that, "I have stood next to you through all of your desicions and you will not allow me the joy of love!?"

"How dare you?" He snarled, "The joy of love? You know nothing of love, y/n."

You huffed, "Oh, really, Dream King?"

You draped to step closer, chest flush against his, faces mere inches apart. His breath fanned your face, and god's, how you had imagined being this close to him.

He did say anything, rage flaring furiously.

Grabbing his hand, you pressed it to your chest, where your heat beat erratically. You were far too gone now, might as well finally tell the truth.

You breathed, chest heaving harshly, "You created me. I am as connected to you as you are me. Can you feel it? The way I burn for every part of you."

His eyes flickered down to your chest, fixated on where his hand was pressed against it, feeling the intensity of your emotions. The longing, the desire, the passion and the love.

He clenched his jaw, wrenching his hand away as he forced out the word, "No."

Few could understand the Dream King's emotions and you were one of them.

"Liar," You spit.

And then you did the stupidest thing you had ever done.

You kissed Dream of the Endless.

You yanked him down by his coat, pressing your lips to his. Passionate was an understatement. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of berries and you found yourself wondering what the rest of him tasted like.

If this was your last moment, you were glad you finally knew what it was like to kiss him.

You expected him to push you away and banish you into the darkness.

Instead, he gripped your jaw, pressing your lips closer to his. His pace was bruising, the intensity of his kiss was burning. It was delicious and you welcomed the heat without hesitation.

You pressed closer still, groaning into the kiss when his other hand came to clutch at your neck. It kept you in the position he wanted as he slotted his leg between yours, something hard pressing against you.

A gasp.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he jutted his leg again, smug bastard.

His kiss made you dizzy with desire, intoxicated you. Dream consumed you in everything that he was, his bruising passion, his relentless onslaught of hypnotic kisses, his teasing brutality as he bit your lip.

Shit, why had you waited so long to do this.

Finally, he seemed to realise what he was doing and halted. His eyes were wide, pupils blown as gasped for are. His grip on your jaw and neck didn't loosen, in fact, they tightened deliciously.

Your chest heaved in time with his.

The words slipped from your tounge, "Are you sure you don't feel it, Morpheus?"

His eyes ignited and you knew his earlier rage just flickered back to life.

Never challenge Dream of the Endless.

But you refused to let him have the last word, even if meant furthering his anger.

So, you snapped forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away.

There was a sway in your hips as you turned, sauntering toward the imposing doors, lips bruised and blushing. Smugness filled your veins as the king made no move to stop you, still in shock.

You relished in it. Someone had rendered Dream of the Endless silent for the first time. You grinned in pride.

Once you reache the doors you allowe dyour head to turn to look over your shoulders.

A smirk teased at your lips, words sharp and taunting, "No one else will be able to compare with me, Morpheus. No one."

And then you slipped away, leaving Morpheus wanting and arouses.

No one wounded the Dream King's pride and got away with it.

You knew that all too well.

Merely having delayed your punishment, you relished in your last moments of freedom because you knew once Dream got back with The Corinthian he would end you with ease.

But he never came back.

He and Jessamy went silent. You could only faintly sense her but it was like she could not sense you at all, the ability to travel through realms somehow ripped away from her. There was nothing you could do, you didn't know where she was.

The Dream weakened without it's master, walls began to crumble and everyone began to wither, their creator no longer fueling them with his power. Soon it fell to Lucienne and you to command the Dreaming, as best you could.

Neither of you gave up, search parties were sent out. Saint's, you had even tried to find Death and ask for her help. Nothing worked. And ten years into it, you felt it.

Jessamy had died.

That was when most gave up, if one of Dream's most trusted companions was dead then he was far beyond any sort of reach.

Then, with no one to control them, the nightmares ran rampant.

Some had run to Delirum's realm, she did love dreams, after all. Others went to Asgard or the Fae realm. Lots fled to the Waking World and you went with them.

You were terrified they would be harmed, unknowing of humanity's violence and the other creatures that roamed. You helped them settle, protected them and taught them, you spent most of your time doing it.

Perhaps as a distraction, the Dreaming was falling to pieces and there was nothing you could do. The truth of that fact settled in the day you had gone to visit your dear friend and she ran into your arms, sniffling.

Her library was gone.

It remained that way for over a century. Then, one day, there was a title on a newspaper that made you freeze.

Sleeping beauty wakes up.

The King was back.

And most ran back to the Dreaming without hesitation. Yes, they had grown comfortable in the Waking World but they had to hide who they really were. The Dreaminf was home and the thought of home was wonderful.

One dream, Daphe, had said to come with them, that once Dream had heard of how you helped them and protected them he would spare you. You laughed and shook your head.

You were going to be punished for involving yourself with humans. You were going to stay here until the end, head held high and true to your desire for love.

You were going to die so why not go out with a bang?

Literally.

You spent almost every night this month at a different night club, taking different people home, sometimes multiple at once. You were being what Dream had made you to be, lustful. He could not blame you for following your sole purpose.

That led you to now.

The lights were bright against the dark shadows, the smell of sweat, alcohol and sex familiar to you as you danced in the crowd. You were having the time of your life, grinding against random men and women, kissing in dark corners and participating in body shots.

Then, you saw it.

A raven, watching you from the window, flying away when it knew you caught it.

Morpheus was close, then.

You sighed, and wormed your way out of the crowd, twisting around the bodies pressed together slowly. The cold night air struck your skin smoothly. You shivered slightly, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to wear a dress with a plunging v-line made from a flimsy fabric that barely covered the curve of your arse.

Too late now.

"Who are you, cause I know you're not Jessamy," Your voice was calm, light and uncaring, hiding the truth well.

The raven flew down, settling on the wall beside you awkwardly, not used to the wings, "I'm Matthew. How did you know I wasn't Jessamy."

You snorted, "Because she's dead," Then a fond smile slipped onto her face, "And because she wouldn't fly away when she'd been caught, she'd just stare you down, almost as intimidating as the king himself."

"I see," Matthew hummed, "You and she were close weren't you?"

Yes, you were.

Ignoring the burn in your eyes, you lifted your head to the twinkling sky, "He's coming for me, isn't he?"

He paused, "Yes..."

Your shoulders dropped, "Alright,"

And then you began to walk away.

"Hey! Where are you going!? If you run it'll just make it worse! The dreams don't want you to die! Not Merv or Gault or Lucienne or the brothers! They want you to live with them!" Matthew cried.

You laughed then, "It's not running when he already knows where I am. I just need to do something before I am punished."

The raven didn't respond but you felt his eyes on you as you called for a taxi, telling the driver the address to your luxurious flat.

When you finally got to said flat you almost flinched at the silence. You almost allowed yourself to break down into tears, everything you had done, learnt and lived for would be snatched away.

But you would not leave those you had come to leave wonder where you had gone.

Cathy would be the first, she always forgot to buy something at the shops and came knocking to see if you had it. Sam would be next, the cheeky bastard bored and asking you out for a good time. Amelia would be last. Oh, dear Amelia. She was your favourite, king and thoughtful but always ready to call you out on your bullshit.

Your hands shook as you wrote the letters someone would eventually find, pressing a kiss to each of them. You silently wished that they got everything and anything they wanted in life.

Then, your poured yourself a glass of wine and stared out the window, waiting.

And then, you felt it.

He was silent, pulling at your soul just like he always did as he appeared in your flat, presence as strong and dominating as you remembered it.

You swallowed harshly, this was it.

You forced yourself to turn.

The breath was knocked out of your throat at the sight of him.

Gods, you had forgotten just how glorious he looked.

Chizzled chin, alabaster skin that would look perfect covered in scratches and hickeys, silver eyes so deep you could see the universe in them. he was demanding as a king should be but you noticed a difference. He had changed somehow...well-hidden was the haunted look in his eyes, the tenseness of his body and the quiver of his soul.

Your heart lept in your chest, wanting nothing more than to comfort as you did so many aeons before. When no one could see him and he could allow himself to relax with one of his oldest creations. When he was willing to rest his head in the crook of your neck and reveal his true feelings.

You spoke first, more of a whisper, really, "Morpheus."

His name felt heavenly on your tongue.

"Y/n," He murmured in response, voice deep and raspy, it rumbled with thunder and the heaviness of stars.

The silence was imposing. You couldn't bare it.

"Are you...?" You couldn't get the question out, your lips wouldn't let you, "How is the Dreaming?"

How is the Dreaming? How is Lucienne? How are you?

You knew he caught onto the silent message in your words, he always did, "The Dreaming is well. As you know I was gone for a long time but I have returned, stronger than I have been in aeons."

Your heart hammered against your chest, "I suppose I won't be getting a quick punishment, then."

He stilled, staring at you.

Then his eyes shifted to the side.

You followed his gaze. He was staring at the pictures on the wall, honouring the two people you had loved most.

This was going to make him angry.

Oh well.

You sighed gently, "That woman was called Eliza, we had a good relationship in the eighties before she realised I didn't age. The man was called Charles, I nearly married him. but..."

"But what?" He questioned sharply.

"But he wasn't you," You told him simply.

You were not ashamed, you would never be.

You loved Dream of the Endless.

But many had loved Morpheus and none had ever survived the flame of his passion or the fires that came with wounding his heart.

He did not respond, as prideful as ever. Not even bothering to acknowledge your confession or what happened the last time you were together.

Your lips prickled at the thought, they missed his lips on theirs.

You scoffed, "Why are you asking me questions? Is this some kind of scare tactic, to get me scared before you punish me?" You hissed, "Just fucking kill me."

His eyes darkened at the thought.

This was it.

Then he said something that shocked you to your very core.

"You are frightened of me," His words confused you.

Then a hollow laugh escaped your lips, "Of course I am! I know what happens to those who defy you. I know the fate that awaits me!"

"No. You do not," He didn't yell but it felt like he did.

You froze. At first, you thought your min was consoling you before you end or that it had already come. But it hadn't and you weren't dead.

Morpheus stared at you from the other side of the room, goldy features glimmering in the moonlight as he studied you intently. A shiver ran down your spine at his predatory gaze, arousal whispering in the back of your mind.

Gods, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until his mark was all that was left on your lips.

"You're not going to kill me?" You gasped, carefully.

He nodded, "No. I will not do anything to you."

An elated laugh escaped your mouth, almost hysterical. Soul reeling in surprise. You sipped the rest of your wine, a smirk on your face as you sashayed forward, "When I am going to celebrate by having sex with the biggest orgy I can find."

You passed Dream.

His hand latched onto your wrist, firm as he forced you to still.

His words almost came out as a growl, "No."

"Here we go," You muttered, you were definitely treading down the wrong path but Dream had made you impulsive and who were you if not his greatest creation?

He stared down at you, gaze so heated you felt it in your chest, "I will not have you pleasuring mortals."

You glowered, "I'm being lustful. One second you're angry at me for wanting something more and the next your angry at me for doing what I was made to."

Morpheus' grip on your wrist loosened, only to tighten again as he spoke, "I am not angry at you. But I will not have mortals indulging themselves in all that is you."

"Why? Because I am nothing but a dream?" You snapped.

His gaze was piercing, words even more so, "Because you are my dream and mine alone.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. All words dying on your tongue.

"We will return to the Dreaming, "He told you not acknowledging his words.

You narrowed your eyes and wretched your arm from his grasp furiously, "No."

"No?" He spat.

Over a century had gone by and he was still surprised by how insolent you were. And by how strongly he reacted when you grew closer to him, the fabric of your dress seeming so easily tearable.

"No," You spoke firmly, "You can't just say that and brush it off. I won't let you."

Dream was quick to make your suspicion seem foolish as he scoffed lightly, forcing an offended expression onto his face. He glowered down at you, "Dreams should not indulge themselves with mortals. Your implication is wrong. You're wrong."

You huffed, daring to take a step closer, feeling the heat of his body welcoming you, "Really? Because I think..." You smiled slyly, feline eyes glinting, "You want to repeat what happened in the throne room. You want to grab my chin, kiss me so hard you leave bruises as you put your leg between mine, pressing closer and closer..."

You knew you were right. Not even the Dream Lord himself was immune to your powers. You felt it rippling off of him, waves of desire and want flowing over you deliciously. You wanted more.

He remained silent, glaring down at you as his nostrils flared, dark eyes shimmering dangerously. His jaw was clenched and his body tense, holding himself back.

He was Dream of the Endless, he would not be bested by one of his creations.

You grinned slyly, "You do..."

He glowered, "I am your king..."

"And a king deserves to be worshipped, does he not?"

You dropped to your knees.

Morpheus' chest heaved as he watched you, making no move to stop you, daring you, challenging you.

Well, the challenge was accepted.

Slowly, you trailed your hands up his legs, sliding them toward the buckle of his belt, never moving your eyes from his own. You paused for a moment, letting him take in the sight of you, kneeling before him, hands grasping his belt.

You were letting him decide if he wanted this.

He made no move to stop you.

You smirked.

Your hands made quick work of his belt, skilful as they moved swiftly. You relished in the clink of the metal clasp as it fell to the floor beside you, a sharp noise in the tense silence. Easily, you pulled down his slacks, a sultry look glimmering in your eyes.

He shivered against the cold of your nails as you gently scratched up his bare legs, teasing around the band of his underwear, tight around his quickly hardening dick.

You saw the look in his eyes, silently demanding you stop your teasing.

You obliged without hesitation.

Hooking your fingers around the band of his underwear you pulled it down, finally daring to break your gaze.

A sound you had no idea you could make slipped from your mouth, barely above a whisper as your eyes fixated on his dick. It was lengthy and thick, as dominating as the rest of him was.

You shivered in delight.

Slowly, you lifted your hand and glided it across his cock, memorised. A sound escaped Morpheus' lips and a fire ignited in your chest, you wanted to draw every sound he could possibly make out of him.

His eyes were dark, intense with want when you looked at him, containing to run your hand along his erection. You delighted in how his muscles spasmed, his entire body racing to your slightest touch.

If he reacted this way to your hand, how would he react to your mouth?

You needed to find out.

You refused to break eye contact as you opened your mouth slowly, lips parting delicately. You quickly guided his cock to your mouth, lips fitting around the tip smoothly.

Morpheus' hand gripped the marble counter, fixated on the way your lips wrapped so perfectly around him.

So very perfect.

You took more of him. Slowly swiping your tongue along the base of his length. He shivered against you, pressing further into you. You smirked, moving so that all of him was in your mouth. A quiet groan escaped his lips, pretty and pink.

You wanted more sounds, louder sounds.

You bobbed your head once, twice, before you only had the tip of him in your mouth, tongue swirling against it. He stared at you, wide-eyed, drunken on pleasure, waiting for you to move again.

But you wouldn't, you wanted to draw everything out of him.

He groaned softly, knowing so well what you wanted.

"More," He grunted, "Give me more, y/n."

You lifted away only to say, "Yes, my king."

And then you fit him into your mouth in one go.

Morpheus hissed.

Your pace was quick, tantalizing as your tongue ran along every sensitive part it could. You relished in the darkness in his eyes as he watched you take him so very well. The shakiness in his breath delighted you. The heave in his chest excited you.

Dream of the Endless was falling apart because of you and you alone.

One of his hands was gripping the counter, the other tense, unsure of where to go. Quickly, you grabbed it and guided it to your hair, staring up at Morpheus with a siren's eyes. And you were a siren, drawing him in, intoxicating him like you had been doing for aeons.

He let his hand rest there for a moment. Then you licked the underside of his dick and his hand tightened into a fist, yanking at your hair as he groaned, becoming breathless so very easily.

You moaned at the stinging sensation.

Morpheus gasped, whined, and bucked into your mouth.

His dark eyes shimmered, "Again."

You moaned around him again, and he bucked into you again.

You could see it, Morpheus was chasing his high, pleasure streaming strongly through his veins, desperation clawing at him for release. he was losing himself to pleasure, consumed by you.

You took your head away.

Morpheus' chest heaved, slight confusion breaking through the haze of desire. He did not dare say a word, waiting for you.

You smiled prettily.

"Do you want it?" You hummed, "My king."

A raspy groan escaped his throat, and his hand tightened its grip on your hair, hypnotized by all that was you.

Yes, the answer was.

He wanted it all.

He wanted you to pleasure him then he wanted to make you fall apart over and over again until you knew nothing but his name. Until it was the only thing you could say. Until your body only knew his touch.

He wanted your legs around him, whines falling free from your pretty mouth as he thrust into you, arms desperately clinging to his shoulders, gasping his name. Morpheus.

Fuck, he wanted that.

His voice was deep, intoxicating, as he yanked your hair, eyes dark, "I am your king and you will please me."

You shivered, he was ordering you.

"Yes sir," You were a dutiful subject and would give anything he so desired.

A sound akin to a growl tore from Morpheus' throat instantly. he bucked his hips, using you just how he wanted to, chasing his release. And, fuck, was he chasing it. He grew louder and louder, moans echoing in the quiet, making your core burn for him.

You bobbed your head fervently, desperate for your king to spill into your mouth, to still in his euphoria, sweat coating his skin. Gods, you wanted it.

"Yesyesyes..." He panted, midnight hair clinging to his forehead.

He was so close.

You groaned against him, eyes unable or willing to break contact.

The hand that had been gripping the counter come to your cheek, brushing against your brow as Morpheus gasped, "Keep going, my dream. Make your king cum. Make your king cum."

Oh, fuck.

His sharp breaths filled the air, almost overpowering the sound of your pretty lips sucking his cock.

Suddenly, he became breathless, the loudest groan you had ever heard flying from his lips.

And he was cumming. Hard. Harder than he ever had before.

his grip on your hair kept you from moving, not that you wanted to. You wanted every last drop, every part of him. Morpheus' head was thrown back, lips parted in a silent scream, eyes screwed closed.

Gently, your hands ran up and down his legs, slowly drawing him from his high.

His chest heaved again and slowly he looked down at you, eyes glimmering like blown stars. His grip on your hair loosened, his other hand tenderly stroking your temple. You leaned into it openly, you would always accept affection from him.

Slowly, you pulled away, letting his length fall from your mouth with a delicious pop, Dream following your every move. You refused to break eye contact as you swallowed.

His eyes widened, the hand tracing your face gliding toward your lips, silently demanding that you open them. You did so. A quiet gasp fell from his divine mouth, you had swallowed it all. His eyes shimmered.

"Did I please you, my king?" You questioned both teasingly and not.

And suddenly, Morpheus was yanking you up, not allowing you time to blink as were pressed against the cold, marble counter.

You barely had a chance to gasp before his lips were on yours.

You met him with equal desperation. Aeons of pining and a century apart mixing together. You had missed one another dearly, more so than either of you realised before now.

He bit your lip teasingly, tongue battling with yours for dominance that you easily gave up. It was easy to become undone for the King of Dreams and you'd do it whenever he wanted you to.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you jumped onto the counter, pulling him flush against you as you continued to kiss his blushing lips, memorising his taste. Berries, just like the throne room.

You moaned into his mouth, one hand tangling itself in his soft hair and the other desperately gripping his shoulder, his very bare shoulder. You forced yourself to break the kiss for a mere moment and looked him up and down, all of his clothes were gone.

You felt him smirk against you.

You relished in it, whispering in his ear, "Now that's a trick I like. Clothes can be such a nuisance."

A raspy chuckle came from him, bright eyes dark, "Not in this case."

And then you felt his hands on your thighs, "Would you rather my fingers or my tongue?"

"Fuck..." You murmured, shivering, "I want both."

"Then you shall have both," He hummed and with startling ease, your underwear was ripped off and it went straight to your core, pulsing.

Teasingly, his fingers ran across your thighs, drawing closer and closer to the place you wanted him to touch you most. You arched into him, desperate.

A sly grin made its way onto his lips as he darted toward your neck, latching on with a fierce kiss. He'd litter your neck in marks, and the whole of creation would know you were his.

He did not allow a word to escape your lips, one of his fingers twirling around your clit and the other slipping into your soaked heat with ease.

"Morpheus!" You cried with a whine, bucking into his hand.

You felt him smirk against your skin and were suddenly reminded of your earlier thought. His moonlight skin would look even more delicious when it was covered in your marks.

You were quick to pepper kisses to his jaw than his neck and when you came to his ear you got a very interesting reaction indeed.

He tensed, a gasp escaping his lips.

You didn't hesitate to bite it, kissing it teasingly.

Morpheus retaliated. Another finger drove into you, curling and twisting so perfectly you could already feel your high call on the horizon.

And then, he pressed against that spot of nerves.

You moaned, gripping his hair tighter as your chest pressed flush against his, "There."

He lifted his head from your neck, eyes teasing as he pressed against that spot once more, watching in fascination as you whined, "There?"

He pressed against it again.

You cried out, "Yes! Right fucking there!" Your forehead fell against his, "You're going to make me cum."

Suddenly, he stopped. You gasped in upset.

He gazed at you, wonder-struck, he had created you and yet all of these expressions were new to him. He wanted to see all of the expressions you could make.

He slowly pulled his fingers away and up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. You watched, hypnotized. He groaned quietly at the taste of you on his tongue, desperate to have more.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

And he dropped to his knees.

"Morpheus!" You gasped in surprise.

Dream of the Endless never kneeled for anyone.

Your hand came to grip his milky-white arm. It was wrong for a being such as him to kneel before one of his creations, a mere fragment of his power.

His eyes shimmered, taking a softer shine as he felt your emotions course through him.

Gently, he lifted your hand, staring up at you intently, "You are far more than my creation, y/n. Far more," His voice dropped, "Now, please don't stop me again."

You shivered, hands coming to grip the counter.

Morpheus smirked, "So good for me."

Then, he hiked your legs over his slender shoulders. And, fuck, his face was framed so perfectly in between them. Dark hair was swept across his forehead, dark eyes glittering brighter than the universe, and dark desire painted his lips.

The king didn't hesitate.

His tongue licked a strip along your folds and you gasped. Bloody hell. His mouth came to tease around your clit, sucking and slurping, eliciting sounds unknown to you from your lips. Your legs closed tighter around his head, forcing his face closer to your heat.

You felt him smirk against you and you shivered. Eyes seared in amusement. Oh, how he loved the way you fell apart for him.

Suddenly, he delved in.

Skillful was his tongue as it caressed you, licking every sensitive spot it could as your taste spilt down his chin. He could care less. He relished in it. To him, you were greater than anything else, he would never tire of you, he would want you for all eternity.

He could imagine it now, his tongue making you writhe on his thrown as he pleasured you. His tongue igniting something in you as you struggled to keep quiet in the halls. His tongue making you cry out as you cum over and over again on his bed.

Those thoughts fueled him. His tongue moved faster, the slurping noise so sinful growing deliciously louder.

You yelped in delight rutting against his face.

He rose a brow and his arm came up to hold your hips down, forcing you still for him. You whined at his pace, you had never felt euphoria as strong as this.

Morpheus was a god, greater than a god and he was yours.

You could feel your release coming.

"You're so good," You just managed to gasp, fixated on him, "So, so good. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum just for you, my king."

His eyes glinted.

He continued fervently. Whines spilt from your mouth like prayer as you grew further and further consumed by Morpheus. Fuck, the man knew how to use his tongue.

Your chest heaved, hands struggling to grip the counter as your body flooded with pleasure.

You were so close. So fucking close.

And then you were cumming.

The air was knocked out of you as your body shook with the strongest orgasm you had ever had. A broken whine fell from your lips as you fell apart against Morpheus, only aware of the delicious warmth of his body and the tantalizing chill of the counter.

The king, like a starving man, lapped up every drop of your release, almost cumming himself because of how divine you tasted on his tongue.

Softly, his hand came to clutch yours as he pulled you down from your high. Slowly, his tongue swirled around your heat, drawing you back into reality.

Through hooded eyes and a bleary mind, you gripped Morpheus' hand tighter, chest heaving as you stared down at him. His regal cheekbones glittered with the light of the moon, his eyes glimmered like galaxies, and his lips formed into a proud smirk as he admired his work.

A harsh kiss was pressed to your inner thigh, his teeth biting into your skin, marking you. You whined and a soft, caring kiss followed after.

"Come here...please..."You gasped breathlessly.

Morpheus followed your request without hesitation.

You sighed and your arms carefully came to wrap around his slender shoulders. He moved closer, the ridge of his nose brushing yours, gliding along your cheek as he swept some hair out of your face.

"I missed you," You whispered, almost hesitantly.

Morpheus' eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes like strands of the night sky as he murmured, "And I missed you," His forehead pressed against yours, "Come to the Dreaming with me."

It was a request, you realised. He was not ordering you.

"I will," You spoke softly.

Then you grinned mischievously, pressing closer to him.

Your lips found the shell of his ear, voice a tantalizing whisper, "Is that where you will have me?"

He shivered against you. Bright eyes darkening once more with lust, "I will have you everywhere. On my throne. Against the halls. In my chambers. But at this moment I cannot wait. I will have you here, now."

You giggled, "My bedroom's down the hall."

Morpheus smirked, hands coming down to tap your thighs, silently commanding you. You jumped up. His firm hands gripped your legs, pressing you as close to him as possible, groaning quietly in your ear.

And suddenly, it was impossible to be apart from him.

Your lips were acting fervently, pressing desperate kisses to his as he skilfully walked the two of you to your bed where he would ravish you entirely. Your lips attack his neck, playfully biting his ear as you sucked hickeys into his creamy white skin, the redness a beautiful contrast.

You were so consumed by kissing him and he, you, that neither of you realised you had made it to your bed. You fell onto it, Morpheus easily hovering over you with wonderous, intense eyes.

He looked godly. He looked perfect. He looked like your dream.

Your hand brushed his cheek, "You're beautiful."

His hand caught yours and he pressed the softest of kisses to your palm, "And you're enamouring."

Your heart fluttered. Your hands grasped his shoulders, slowly drifting along the curve of his collar-bones and then to the hardness of his chest.

He allowed you to feel him, slowly lowering himself to whisper, "I want your dress off, now."

"So demanding," You teased.

"I am a king," He rose a brow in response, hands easily gripping the hem of your dress and tugging it off your perfect body. As soon as your dream was thrown into a random corner, Dream's eyes darkened as he studied your body, entirely bare.

You smiled at his expression smugly, "You created all of this, Morpheus. Moulded me, shaped me, it's all yours."

"Yes, it is," He murmured, lips stealing a kiss from you, "And I will take it."

A fire burned in your stomach, igniting in your core as you stroked his length, hard once again. You lifted your head, lips brushing against his, "Then do it."

Morpheus' eyes darkened and with a speed only he possessed, your legs were hooked around his waist and he was hovering over you once more, caging you in his arms.

You shivered in delight.

He groaned lightly as one of his hands stroked his cock, easily lining it up with your burning heat, teasing you. You whined as his length ran across your folds, twirling around your clit, not yet filling you.

"Don't tease..." You gasped, desperate.

He smiled, amused, "Very well."

And the tip of his dick pressed into you.

You flung your head back, and a silent sound escaped your lips as your chest heaved. Fuck, if that's how his tip felt you couldn't wait to know what the rest of him felt like.

Your hands gripped the sheets, tight enough to tear them.

"Look at you," Morpheus' voice rumbled like lightning, "I've barely entered you and you're already a mess."

"Only for you," You mused, "Unless you would like me to tell you about my other--"

A whorish moan flood from your lips.

Your back arched.

Morpheus was inside. All of him.

A swear fell from his lips, an ancient language you know only faintly, and fuck, did it sound good. It was almost as good as how full you felt, how he stretched you so deliciously, how you fit him so fucking perfectly.

Morpheus' chest heaved as he reeled from the pleasure of having you squeeze around him, consuming him, taking him in a way no one else ever could.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails gripping his skin hard.

He shivered, fuck, he enjoyed that.

"Fuck me," Gasped, breathless, "Fuck me, Morpheus."

The god of a man chuckled above you, "Such a demanding little thing."

He didn't let you respond, bucking into you slowly, intensely.

You moaned, loudly.

"Now, now. You wouldn't want to disturb your neighbours, would you, my dream?" He ground against you, eyes glinting mischievously.

Your nails scratched up his back, eliciting a sound from him as you spoke, "I don't give two shits if they hear us, I just want you to fuck me."

"And I will," His voice was husky, deep with lust, "Until you know nothing but my name."

You didn't get a chance to respond to that. Dream's hips rutted deeply against yours, fucking into you perfectly. His thrusts were powerful, waves of pleasure shooting across you as he set his pace.

And fuck, it was brutal.

his body snapped against yours. Your headboard banged against the wall. You couldn't think of anything but him. He was relentless, fucking you so deeply the sound of slapping skin almost overpowered your moans.

You had never moaned so loud, body powerless against his body and will. You'd do whatever he wanted. Anything he wanted.

Morpheus' strong hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises and you welcomed his mark on you. Your nails scraped along his back. Tangled themselves in his hair as you whined and moaned.

"No other being can make you feel the I way do," He hissed in your ear, a king, as he hammered into you, "No other being will ever be able to have you the way I do. No one."

You nodded feverishly as his body rocked against yours, "No one. Only you. Only fucking you."

"That's right, my dream. My y/n," Morpheus moaned, gripping your legs tighter, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper.

You wanted to speak but words could not escape your mouth. Whines fell from your lips instead, loud and free as you arched your back.

He was too good. Dream was a passionate lover and you fucking loved it.

"Possessive," You just managed to gasp.

"Entirely," He smirked breathlessly.

You could feel your high storming toward you, faster than any orgasm before and you chased it. You bucked against him, somehow managing to match his impossibly animalistic pace as he fucked into roughly.

Your hands desperately clutched his shoulders.

He lowered his body, pressing it flush against yours as he groaned against your skin, "Are you going to cum, my dream? Are you going to cum with your king? Are you going to cum with me?"

Oh, fuck yes.

You frantically nodded your head, "Inside."

The thought of him leaving you now almost made you want to cry. You wanted him inside of you, wanted him to still against you as his cock twitched and he cummed.

Morpheus groaned, "As you wish."

You whined as loud as possible, body wrapped tightly around him as he fucked you. He filled you so deliciously, so perfectly. No one else could ever compare. You were almost screaming in pleasure now, consumed by your king.

You were on the verge, so very close.

"Morpheus," You whimpered.

Morpheus' head burrowed into the crook of your neck, lips flush against your skin as he panted a mantra, "Mine."

Your head pressed against his neck in response, lips brushing over the shell of his ear, "Yours. All fucking yours. Just like your mine."

He nodded erratically, barely able to collect a thought, drunken on the pleasure you gave him. So strong and unlike anything he had ever felt before, he was addicted.

His breaths were shallow, "Yours. All yours."

His hips canted against yours, both of you desperately chasing the releases that were riding toward you. He fucked you ferally, pace bruising and grips even more so, you loved it.

So close.

You pressed feverish kisses to his skin, gasping breathless breaths.

So, so close.

His face buried into your neck, moan wrenching from his lips.

And you shattered.

Your mouth opened into a scream of his name, "Morpheus!"

Your orgasm ripped through you. Stronger than anything before. Better than anything before. Morpheus' cum filled you as he nested deep within, groan filling the air.

You were floating, disconnected from reality, only aware of Morpheus and his touch.

Your chest heaved. Eyes wide, blurry. Mind dizzy with ecstasy. The delirium of desire easily consumes you.

Morpheus' voice rang deeply in your ear, "I have you, my dream. I have you, y/n."

And he did have you, body flush against yours, one hand still gripping your hip as the other reached forward, pulling your hair out of your face as he tenderly placed his forehead against yours.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, meeting his intense ones. They shone like creation, burned with passion and seared with something deeper. Something much deeper.

Your breath hitched.

The only sounds between you were your heavy breaths.

Morpheus pressed his forehead further against yours, nose and lips brushing against yours as he stared at you deeply.

His words were soft, slow, almost hesitant.

"I love you, y/n."

Your heart warmed, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face.

You giggled lightly, "And it only took you almost all of existence to say it."

His pout was adorable.

Your hand came to cup his cheek, lips almost flush against his, "And I love you, Morpheus."

He pressed his lips to yours fervently, two souls separated no longer, finding their homes within each other, just like the fates decided it would be long ago. And Destiny, of course.

For the first time in a long time, Morpheus, the King of Dreams, Dream of the Endless was completely and utterly awake.

And he never wanted to be away from your side again.

Tags:

@kisses4kitty @kittycatcait219 @we-love-our-bandz

#dream of the endless #fanfic #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #the sandman #imagine #fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #fluff #morpheus smut #dream of the endless imagine #dream the endless x reader #the sandman imagine #the sandman x you #the sandman x reader

2K notes · View notes

ikinremu · 10 months

Note

HI, all of your Tommy Shelby works, involving smut have gotten me all fired up!

So, I am asking you if you cou could please write a Tommy Shelby smut, where Tommy and the reader both have their own favorite part(s) of each others body, and that may lead to teasing one another.

Even where Tommy's voice or any of his mannerisms turns the reader on.

Thanks, :)

Hi anonymous, thank you so much for reading - its so appreciated and I’m overjoyed that you like my works! Thank you so so much for the request!! So sorry it took so long for a response. I really like this idea and I hope you like what i’ve done with it.. enjoy :)

|| Nsfw || Teasing - Tommy Shelby ||

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

A Tommy Shelby teasing based smut oneshot!

tags: Fingering, Orgasm Denial, P in V, Teasing

! Smut Warning !

You adored Tommy from head to toe. Truly. Though, of course, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses - and ironically enough, what you considered to be Tommy's strengths were often what sent strikes of weakness through you.

Your fascinated gaze found no problem with projecting itself - and its ferocity - through the Garrison, swiftly parting any obstacles with a lack of consideration.

Truthfully, you weren't at all proud of the way Tommy's mannerisms alone could excite you - and they certainly didn't act in solidarity; even a seemingly innocent quality of his could have a shameful effect on you.

Your lustful fixation found captivity as you studied Tommy's hands with great intent. You surveilled the motions of them, peering through your tunnel vision as the routine bustle of the Garrison drifted further from your focus.

Frankly, you rather favoured Tommy's hands - it was simply difficult not to when you withheld the knowledge of their capabilities.

Elbows pressed against the Garrison's most popular attraction, Tommy's curled fingers twirled a cigarette between their bridges. Veins accentuated his hands, trailing disorderly paths beneath his skin; it was truly against your power to keep from absorbing every detail. A light push of smoke slipped the part of his lips, softly staining the air as your mind wandered astray.

It didn't, however, take much observation to recognise the smug portrait painting Tommy's face. He knew you were looking at him, and no doubt he'd realised what specific feature had fallen victim to this lewd motive of yours.

One thing Thomas Shelby needed zero assistance with was eye contact - it was to be considered above a strength. He always kept a firm hold on you, and if his hands were disrupted in doing so, his eyes would easily substitute.

His pupils practically split you in two, keen stare unfaltering as a cigarette resumed contact with his lips. In what could be viewed an instinctive manor, your stomach began to flutter as Tommy trailed his focus over your frame - gaze echoing with allure.

His expression did everything but soothe you, shooting a rush of adrenaline through your body. What you'd interpreted as this subtle understanding, communication even, could only spike your anticipated arousal.

It was only a matter of minutes before Tommy would approach, you'd connected those dots immediately, though he was far closer to the double doors you'd been rather blatantly eyeing - and honestly, you just couldn't resist such a ravenous nagging any longer.

Mindlessly, you arose from the stern seating of a wooden chair - one specifically distanced from the intended accompaniment. Tommy's eyes hadn't left your own, their only travel being such gloriously hungry glances over your body as you continued to step closer. Regulars were dotted all over, however in this moment it felt as though Tommy and yourself were the only people in the world. You knew what you wanted, he knew what you wanted; it was reduced to a matter of strides before you were able to indulge in this shared interest.

With a hoarse cough, Tommy cleared his throat, stubbing out his cigarette with the help of a nearby ashtray. Hands harshly digging into his trouser pockets, Tommy took a seemingly accomplished walk in the direction of the room you both knew was due to lose its vacancy.

The moment privacy was activated, you brazenly launched yourself in Tommy's direction - expecting him to meet you half way. Your clothed chest pressed against his, breath desperately hitching beneath your silk blouse. The hands you'd been dreaming so fondly about now squeezing your hips, you elongated your stance, neck stretching as you veered to connect with the supple lips in-front of you - however, you weren't met with a kiss.

Tommy chuckled with a gentle, somewhat mocking, shake of his head. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you wanted, love."

His callous fingers stroked just beneath your chin, forcing your vision upon him to remain stationary.

You had an inkling for where this was headed.

"Tommy-"

"Shh.." He dismissed, "Don't want people to hear us, eh?"

His hushed tone only furthered the flame of intimacy, a soft smile tugging at your lips - pleading to be freed from the compression.

"On the table." Tommy instructed, nodding in the direction of his firm demand.

You hopped atop the familiarly rounded surface, scooting back against the sleek wood as your skirt developed an ever so slight, upward crumple.

Tommy slipped a rusted key within the lock's shadowed opening, twisting it with a pop. You hadn't been made aware of this oddly enticing possession of his until now - though it certainly made the specifics of the circumstances far easier.

Your chest could only indulge in the deepest of heaves, stomach flitting with anticipation as Tommy's body became exceptionally close with your own.

His right hand snaked between your clenched thighs, splitting the friction you'd subconsciously built as he spread them apart.

"So fuckin wet." He groaned, the heat of his words tickling your ear as tantalising sensations began to form elsewhere. His swift fingers traced teasing, supple circles over the sodden material of your underwear - varying between intensities as your clit met the brunt of the touch. "You got this wet just from thinkin about my hands, mm?"

His words were laced with amusement, sound waves clambering down your exposed neck. You nodded - the sentence confirming your suspicions of his awareness. With a smug curve staining his face, the thick fingers of Tommy's opposing hand slid beneath the well-fixed waistband of your skirt, yanking it down with a singular pull - also discarding the soaked underwear with impressive unison.

Tommy's arm slung round your back, the painstakingly expensive fabric of his button up brushing your blouse before he hauled you forward with an unexpected, rather harsh, jolt.

At the greed-enthused collision, you buried your face against Tommy's neck. With a steep inhale, you ingested his strong, musky scent - desperately revelling in his touch.

Suddenly, you felt a crisp motion between the slick of your upper legs, barely brushing over your heat. Your teeth sunk into the plush of your lower lip, body melting against the fingers sliding inside your increasingly wet hole.

"Shit.." You breathed, eyelids painting shadows over your vision as a large hand cupped your chin.

"Look at me. Eh?" Tommy breathed, delicately pressing his forehead against your own - passion radiating through the closing gap between both of your jaws.

As you unclenched your drooped lids, releasing a heavy exhale, Tommy's fingers began strumming your swelling clit. Your hands clutched at the width of his shoulders, finding stability as the stimulation quickened. With the prompting of very little temptation, you submitted to the urge of pressing your lips against his. Before your mouthes could properly connect, Tommy re-enacted his previous dismissal of a kiss.

"You wanted my fingers so bad? That's all I'm gonna fuckin give you."

As vexing as this - soon to be - teasing was, it somehow amplified the stakes of your desire. Mouth agape, you let a whimper slip your throat - hot face still touching Tommy's, despite the infuriating lack of a potentially incredible embrace.

His fingers pumped inside you, finding an insatiably rapid pace as they teased your sopping pussy.

"Fuck, Tommy.." You grew careless of containing any moans as desperation seeped from your every pore, clit throbbing against the pleasing motions of his fingers.

"This what you wanted, love?" His eyes hadn't broken their dedicated train to yours, balmy foreheads clashing with one and other as your back began arching in response. "You wanted my fuckin fingers?"

"Mhm." You uttered, an all too familiar stir flooding your pitted abdomen, "I'm getting close."

As you became submerged by the feeling of an orgasm's sloping build, Tommy's fingers retracted from your so heavily drenched arousal - blocking the release at its very brink.

God, was he agitating when he wanted to be.

"I want to feel you come around me." The lustful nature of his speech - of his breath - was enough to drive you to the edge, and his smirk only added to the mix.

Body processing the denial of a release, you only grew to crave it further.

Driven by this pure, unfiltered thirst, you made light work of Tommy's buttoned waistcoat and shirt, soon following through the momentary process once more - this time your blouse being the subject.

It wasn't at all long before the pair of you had completely deserted all clothing - not a single strip of fabric sheltering your skin.

Tommy's large hands spread over the thick flesh of your bare behind, eagerly kneading at it as the space between you lessened. With a slow push, his hard cock filled the previous depravity of your tight hole - his eyes rolling back as he entered.

Utilising his grip on your ass, Tommy pulled you to match his first, deep thrust - leaking tip taunting your sweet spot as you firmed your grasp on his, now exposed, shoulders.

"Fuck, you feel good.." A low grunt fled his mouth, hand planting a light slap to your behind before returning to its previous, hungry grab.

His hips bucked faster, reaching euphorically deep within your seeping arousal. Your head lolled back, teeth relentlessly torturing your bottom lip as your back formed a rather significant arch.

Tommy grinned, "Right there?"

You - subtly though frantically - nodded, whispering clusters of breathy confirmations as his pulsing erection pounded into you. Your hole clenched around the pleasing motions of his length, moans escaping both mouthes.

Your hips bucked against Tommy's, a singular hand of his jumping to massage your soft breasts, flicking the tenderness of your nipples as the friction caused their pebbling. You pressed open mouthed kisses to the upper planes of his chest, helplessly whining as he marked rapid thrusts.

He flicked your hardened nipples, tip slapping the places you craved most as he pleasured your drenched arousal. You trailed sloppy, heated kisses down his naked torso, nimble fingers still adamantly clutching at his shoulders.

Tommy’s skilful hips continued to slam against your own, burying his cock deeper in your sopping cunt. His hand suddenly retracted the touch from your breasts, sneaking beneath the intense contact as his fingers began to toy with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck!" You slipped a less than quiet moan, instinctively grinding against his dexterity as a knot grew apparent - creeping up from the depths of your fluttering stomach. "I'm gonna cum.."

"Cum for me, love." He grunted, teasing words breaking from the binds of his throat.

His fingers applied further pressure, erection thrusting as deep as you knew possible.

The burning tension coursing through your body wound tighter, preparing to wash over you - clearly without the intention of implementing any limits.

Tommy groaned lowly, granting one final pound into you as you felt a sudden warmth spread within your cunt.

You couldn't help but tremor as your orgasm struck, much anticipated release possessing your body - sensitivity peaking like never before due to the pent up frustration of your earlier denial.

"Shit.." You panted, more breath than word, as you came down from the euphoric climax - a smile stretching your pinkish lips. You pressed your now rather heated forehead against Tommy’s, his soft lips meeting yours - insinuating the kiss you’d had such a desperate longing for.

After a few short seconds, far too short by your own judgement, the passionate embrace was rather frustratingly split.

“I love you.” He spoke, gravelled voice tickling your ears as he tucked strands of your disheveled hair to the side.

“I love you too.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated! <3

#smut #smutty #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby oneshot

226 notes · View notes

kirain · 3 months

Text

I made a seven-day poll asking what everyone wanted me to write for a BG3 short story, but I don't think I have to wait to know "Gale summoning Tara" will win by a landslide. That said, I promise to also write a short for whichever theme comes in second, if people are still interested. In the meantime, I give you Gale summoning Tara!

Partly inspired by @ah-jiing's gorgeous art.

The boy clung to his mother's skirt, hiding behind her, his cheeks stained with tears. Elminster looked at him, then at the state of the house. An unconscious mephit lay withered in the corner, surrounded by scorch marks. The carpet; what was left of it, had taken the brunt of the damage, but the entire living room was trashed beyond repair—and it was perfect. The boy had potential if he could summon such a creature on his own, and with no formal training besides.

"Impressive," Elminster chuckled, scratching his beard. "Most university students struggle to summon mephits. It's not easy to pull them out of Eberron, especially if they don't want to leave."

"Impressive?!" the father yelled, causing the boy to flinch. "This is the fourth time his 'magic' has caused irreparable damage! No more!" He turned to his son, his eyes burning. "I never should've let your mother buy you those fanciful books. Later today, when I get home from work, I'm gathering every single one and tossing them in the ocean!"

The boy gasped, horrified. "No!"

"Don't you 'no' me." He raised his hand, threateningly. "I'm done paying for your mistakes. Every time you ruin something in this house, it costs me a bloody fortune! I ought to—!"

"That's enough, Alexis," the mother said, sternly. "I did far worse when I was in my teens. He's barely eight summers old. He just needs a mentor."

"No, Morena. He needs to stop. He needs a hobby. He needs friends!"

"That's what I was trying to do!" the boy cried. Elminster shifted as the parents fell silent. "I was trying ... I was trying to summon a tressym!"

"Not this again." The father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance, as well as exhaustion. "I already told you, no pets! This house is already in shambles. We don't need an animal to add to it."

"Alexis, you're being unfair. You expect him to stay inside all day, learning about your trade, and then wonder why he doesn't have any friends."

"He doesn't have any friends because the other children around here are scared of him. Have you forgotten what he did to that girl?!"

The boy whimpered, the memory invading his thoughts. Once again, the parents fell silent, the mother giving her husband a disapproving glare. After a moment, she knelt down with a warm smile and ran her thumb across her son's cheek.

"Gale, sweetheart, go to your room for a bit. Can you do that for me?"

The boy hesitated, holding his mother's hand against his face, grateful for the comfort. His eyes twitched, then welled with tears. Elminster watched patiently, taking note of their bond. He could sense the mother's affinity for magic, but the father displayed no such talent. Rather, an obvious aversion to it. The realisation made him scoff. It was always a mystery to him, why one with knowledge of the arcane would settle for the most mundane of partners, but he held his tongue. He was there for one reason, and that reason was breaking down in front of him.

"Gale," the mother repeated. "It's alright, sweetheart." She pulled him into a merciful hug. "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry..." he muttered, melting in her embrace. "I'm sorry, mommy. Please don't take my books away."

"Shh, we're not going to take your books away.

The father lurched forward. "Morena, I just said—!"

"We're not going to take your books away," she snapped. "Now please, go to your room. I'll bring you some lunch come noon."

The boy pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He sniffed quietly, his jaw tense as he tried to compose himself. As he stepped around his mother, he leaned away from his father, but looked up at Elminster with a brief gaze of shame and curiosity. He had no idea who the old man was or why he was there, but he was too upset to ask. Instead, he dashed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Morena, I know you mean well, but you coddle that boy."

"I don't want to hear it, Alexis. He's your son, but you've made absolutely no attempt to share his interests."

"Maybe that's because I don't want to get my eyebrows singed off. I'm not like you. I can't just shield myself from his outbursts."

"They're not 'outbursts'. You act as though he's some kind of delinquent. I've never seen him use magic in a moment of anger, not even when the neighbourhood children push him around. Most of the time his spells are harmless, and you're wrong to focus so heavily on his mistakes."

"You're wrong to brush them aside. Mistakes like these get people killed! The housekeeper damn near pissed herself when she walked in on that ... that thing! I don't think she's coming back!"

"She overreacted. If she hadn't started screaming, the mephit wouldn't have panicked."

"The mephit?! Morena, she had every right to 'overreact'. Most people don't come face to face with fiends everyday!"

"It's not a fiend, Alexis, it's an elemental. Loyal to the one who summoned it." With a grunt, she snapped her fingers, and the motionless creature disappeared in a puff of smoke. "There. I've sent it home. No harm done."

"No harm—?" He stared at the now empty space, then groaned, defeated. "Morena, this is getting out of hand. I can't keep doing this. I-I can't support this. I have to put my foot down. No more books, no more magic."

"It's not a choice, Alexis. I've never seen a child with such keen aptitude for magic. It's like it's in his blood. Either we teach him how to harness it or it'll boil over."

"Don't. Don't even try it. I'm no fool, Morena. He's not a sorcerer. This isn't wild magic. It's not spilling out of him like a sieve. He can stop any time we choose to make him."

Elminster cleared his throat, loudly.

"Oh, yes. Forgive us," Morena sighed. "I had hoped to welcome you under ... merrier circumstances."

"Fear not." He waved his hand, jauntily. "This isn't the first mess I've walked in on when it comes to gifted children, and I doubt it will be the last."

"Gifted?" The father squeaked. "Gifted?!"

"Indeed. You'd admonish your son when you should be praising him. As I said earlier, most university students fail to summon a mephit." He turned his attention to the mother. "Did I hear you rightly? He's only eight?"

"Yes, and only just. By a few weeks."

"Incredible."

"I know," she giggled. "I could hardly believe it when the housekeeper came running to me about a 'winged beast' setting fire to the parlor."

"Have you both lost your senses?!" the father interjected. "Morena, who is this man?"

She caught her breath, pushing her pride for her son aside. "This is Elminster Aumar. Remember? I told you he'd be visiting us today. He wrote to me a tenday ago, asking about Gale. It seems word of our little wizard has reached beyond Waterdeep."

"Do not call him that!" The man hissed. "He's not a wizard, he's a boy. A normal boy. I told you, this ends today. No more books, no more spells, no more fiends or bats or whatever you want to call them. No more magic! He'll be an artisan like me and he'll like it. You just have to stop filling his head with nonsense." He pointed to Elminster. "And you—" He went to speak, his tone harsh, but he paused and collected himself, if only to save face. "I'm sorry you travelled all this way from ... wherever you're from, but I'm afraid your services are no longer needed."

"How dare you," Morena whispered, her voice low but laced with fury. "When you married me, you knew this was a possibility. We talked about it. You were fine with it."

"That was before he started tormenting little girls with necromancy!" He let out a long, winded breath. "Morena, this isn't right. You said it yourself, magic like this is beyond a child's comprehension. He shouldn't even be able to—!"

"If I may inquire?" Elminster asked, careful not to incense the father further. "I'm here because I know, better than most, how difficult it can be to raise a Weave-touched child. I can see the strain it's putting on you, and as a neutral party, I can attest you both make valid points. So please, tell me about the necromancy, and let's try to keep a level head. This is about your son, after all. About his future. If you'll accept it, I'm willing to share my expertise."

The parents exchanged glances, then looked away from each other, embarrassed. The father, without a word, walked away and leaned against the wall, his eyes falling to the cinders on the floor. Elminster could tell he was at his wits' end, but he felt very little sympathy. His desire to stifle such beautiful talent, to hold magic in such low regard—it was an affront to Mystra herself.

"He wasn't trying to 'torment' anyone," the mother chimed. "He was just trying to help."

"Tell me what happened."

"There's a girl who lives a few doors down from us. Loria. She had a songbird she kept in her room, but somehow it got out of its cage and flew into a window outside. As I'm sure you can imagine, the impact broke its neck. When Gale found her, she was weeping in the street, holding the poor thing in her hands. He only ... he only wanted to help. To make her feel better."

"Enough," Elminster said, sensing the woman's mouthing distress. "I understand."

"No you don't!" the father barked. "When he brought that thing back, its limbs twisted in every direction, squawking like it was in pain. He wounded that poor girl more than the bird's death ever could have."

"You're overlooking the fact that it was all well intentioned," Morena argued. "And magic like that is practically impossible for a child his age. It's a miracle he managed to reanimated it at all."

"That doesn't excuse it!"

"I didn't say it did! If we just teach him when and where it's acceptable to use magic, as well as how to perfect his skills—"

"Morena!"

"Magic is part of him!" she screeched, clenching her fists. "You need to accept that!"

"I'm afraid she's right," Elminster added. "Gale may not be a sorcerer, but the Weave has called to him. It has plans for him. Mystra has plans for him."

The father paled, his anger waning in an instant. "The goddess?"

"Yes. Taking his books, depriving him of proper study, it won't placate him. Magic flows through him like molten lava, and lava cannot be tamed. I know the toll this has taken on you, but your son is no mere boy. Not anymore."

"Is that so? Then what exactly is he?"

Elminster smiled. "A prodigy."

-----

Gale paced about his room, gripping his hair as his chest heaved. He couldn't figure out where he went wrong. He didn't mispronounce any of the words, and the mephit, though not what he intended to summon, was peaceful until the housekeeper tried to smack it with a broom.

In a fit of emotions, he dropped to the floor and buried his head in his knees, squeezing them tightly. He didn't want to be alone anymore, and he hated his father's cruelty, but maybe he was right. Images of Loria screaming over her bird flashed in his mind, the guilt overwhelming him. First her, then the housekeeper. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he only wanted a friend.

"Why didn't it work?" he sobbed, his nails digging into his trousers. "Is it me? Tressyms only come to the pure of heart, so maybe I'm just not..."

He wept, for a long time. When he lifted his head, his eyes were swollen and heavy, his mouth sore. With a sniffle, he wiped his nose, then looked to his dresser; to the small ornate jar sat on the far corner. Though he felt too numb to stand, he forced himself to his feet and retrieved it, and then he shook it back and forth, rattling the coins inside.

"That was mother's favourite carpet..." He popped the lid and poured the coins onto the dresser. "Not much, but better than nothing, I guess."

With a pained frown, he began separating each coin by value, counting what was there. It was the least he could do, he thought, to make up for his blunder. He truly loved magic, but he never wanted to hurt anyone with it; least of all the people who cared for him the most.

"One hundred and twenty," he said, mournfully. "That carpet ... cost seventeen times that." He gulped, staving off another rush of tears. "So much for our vacation to Neverwinter. Looks like I ruined that, too."

With one swift motion, he swept the coins back into the jar, then moved to take it to his mother, hoping it would make an apt apology. Before reaching the door; however, he gasped, his body freezing. His eyes widened, his back arching as he dropped the jar to the floor.

"Never ... winter?"

A sudden burst of clarity. Of inspiration. He ran to his bookshelf and grabbed a large, leather bestiary from the lineup. As big as his torso, he struggled to lift it, but dragged it to his bed with a determined limp, then dropped it on the mattress.

"That old man said mephits come from Eberron. So maybe ... maybe my spell was too expansive. I need to narrow it down."

For several minutes, he flipped through the pages, tracing the sentences with his finger. Finally, he came across the passage that answered his prayers, and he grinned.

Most tressyms hail from the warm, temperate lands of Faerûn, and are most commonly seen in northern Cormyr, particularly in the village of Eveningstar.

"This is it!"

With renewed vigor, he wrenched up the rug in the middle of his room, revealing a large casting circle painted on the floor; a seven-pointed star surrounded by glyphs. His excitement brimming, he grabbed a quill and wrote 'Neverwinter' in the northern triangle, then tossed it aside and positioned himself in the center. All the mayhem of that morning and the consequences it incurred seemed to fade as he took a deep, calming breath.

"I can do this. I can do this."

Slowly, he clapped his hands together, his mind fixated on what he wanted most. As the magic swirled inside him, ready to serve, his hair stood on end, but not out of fear. Exhilaration. He couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes and chanted the words, "Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

Immediately, the scent of rosewater filled the air, tickling his nose and tongue. It was sweet and welcoming, a sensation he'd grown to crave on an almost daily basis. It made him feel safe. Seen. As streams of azure and violet whirled around him, he lifted his hands above his head and faced the ceiling.

"Ang'alor ko malo fynndo Virr e'etu fem'molij!"

A gust of wind erupted through the room, so powerful it sent several objects flying through the air, but Gale held strong, his arms shaking as a mass of bright colours exploded from his fingertips. His arms shook, the deluge of dancing lights twisting from a shapeless husk into something more familiar. Then, he heard a soft mew in the distance, causing him to gasp. He'd opened a rift, and before long a small feather blew though and brushed against his cheek.

"My word!" a feminine voice echoed. "This is most irregular. Who is—?"

An abrupt and blinding flash, then a weight that nearly brought Gale to his knees. He winced, blinking rapidly to regain his senses—and when he did, his eyes fell upon the face of a cat, which he unknowingly cradled in his arms, her paws pushing against his chest. In that moment, words failed him, his mouth hanging open in a daze.

"I say, who are you?" the creature asked, her ears twitching.

She wasn't angry or frightened, merely confused, but a quick glance around her esoteric surroundings answered in kind. The room was teeming with books, knickknacks, and artefacts that only one type of person would keep, and she knew that type of person well. Stretching her wings, she shuffled in the boy's arms, making herself more comfortable.

"I see. A young wizard, are you?" She peered up at him, her bright eyes studying his face. "Hmm. Very young, it seems. Well then, that explains why you summoned me. You need a firm hand, yes? I'll warn you now, child, I expect you to take your studies seriously. I'll not abide laziness." She pulled back a bit, licking her paw. "And I trust I'll receive a steady intake of fish and pigeons? They're my favourite, I'll have you know. Well, after beholder, but I don't expect you to fetch something so dangerous on my behalf. In fact, I forbid it."

"I..." Gale's brow furrowed, his eyes gleaming.

"My name is Tara, by the bye. Perhaps I should've opened with that. Though you've neglected to tell me your name." She tilted her head, gesturing for a response, but the boy said nothing. "I see I have my work cut out for me. Manners, young man. Manners. So, what should I call you? Mister—?"

"I—I..."

"Yes? Speak clearly, dear. My hearing may be sharp, but mumbles are indecipherable, even for a tressym."

He couldn't contain his smile as he pulled the beast into a tight but careful hug, which was met with the faintest sound of purring.

"I did it!"

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #elminster #tara #tara bg3 #tara the tressym #dnd #d&d

104 notes · View notes

synthleeius · 7 months

Text

afternoon

l.. lee aether *has a fucking stroke*

i wanted this to turn out a bit better, but idk 😭

Aether laid comfortably in his bed, curled up in the white blanket that was definitely too big for the mattress itself. After staying up late in Liyue doing the simplest things people could have done themselves, he was tired out. But so tired that he slept all the way to lunch? Paimon wasn't so sure..

To be fair, Paimon had only woken up around an hour before.. but that doesn't count! She was used to Aether being her personal alarm clock. She had decided that he could sleep until she got some food for a late breakfast.. But when she came back into the room, he hadn't shifted in the slightest bit.

“Traveller!” She huffed, floating over just above his figure and shook his shoulder. “Come on, up!”

Aether groaned, swatting her hand away and pulling the covers over his head. “Ugh, stop..” His floating companion unfortunately didn't give up, but took a different approach. She sat on the side of the bed, tilting her head at him.

“Paimon’s disappointed! But.. there's no other choice. Paimon’s gonna do the unthinkable!” She exclaimed, standing up on the bed proudly before screeching out her next words;

“XIAAAOOOO!!!!!–”

“Shut up, shut up!” Aether gasped, jolting awake and slapping a hand over the other's mouth. “Paimon! He's probably busy!”

“It got you up though~” She teased after Aether removed his hand, smirking smugly. “Well.. lucky, I don’t think Xiao heard Paimon anyways.”

“..Huh. I guess so. ..well, in that case–” The blonde flopped back onto the pillows, turning away from the now floating Paimon. “Hey!! Traveller! Get up, or Paimon’s gonna-”

“You called..?”

She gasped dramatically, her whole body jolting around in a panic. When she realised who it was, she sighed in relief. “Xiao! You always pop up so randomly, you know that?”

“But.. you're the one who called my name. I don't see how that's very ‘random’, Paimon..” He replied, his arms crossing over his chest in the familiar stance.

“Whatever! Just- help Paimon already! The traveller’s being lazy again!” She whined, tapping where Aether’s shoulder would be under the blanket. “He was awake just a few moments ago, Paimon doesn’t know how he does it.”

Xiao took a few steps over, peering over at the other’s sleeping state. “..Why don’t you just do it?” He asked softly, gently taking ahold of the blanket and dragging it down just so Aether’s face was visible.

“Oh believe me, Paimon’s tried.” She sighed softly, shaking her head. “Well.. This is your problem now. Tell him that Paimon’s in Mondstadt! Bye Xiaaoo~”

Before he could object, Paimon had disappeared into the hall and out the teapot. He huffed quietly, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his legs crossed. He stared for a few seconds, before gently nudging his arm. “Traveller.”

With no response, he repeated the motion. “It's late..”

“..I saw you last night, you know.” Be began, after realising that small movements weren’t doing anything. “Running around for people you don't even know. It's.. admirable, I suppose. But you shouldn’t be doing it. If mortals like yourself don't take the breaks they require, things like this happen.”

He perked up at the small breath the other huffed out, rubbing his eyes with the back of his knuckles. “..I know..” He mumbled, a soft giggle leaving his lips. “You're so poetic without realising it.”

“A-Ah.. I have little knowledge, nor talent for poetry.” Xiao spoke, his hands moving absentmindedly to sit in his own lap.

“Uhuh..” Aether mumbled in response, yawning softly before stretching his arms up. “..Hey, what are you doing here? Did- ohh..”

Seemingly just processing the events that happened, his eyes fluttered open to look up at the adeptus. “Sorry that Paimon called you. I didn’t.. I guess I was being slightly stubborn.”

The claim made Xiao huff a chuckle out, shrugging. “It's fine, I wasn’t particularly busy.”

“That's good..” He whispered, moving to lay on his back. He let out a few sleepy noises, his eyes drooping back shut. He should be getting him awake and out of bed.. but..

“Half an hour, okay?” The adeptus sighed, softening slightly at the pleased sound the other expressed.

And soon that half hour passed, causing Xiao to enter back into the warm room. He was slightly tempted to explore the house Aether resided in, but decided against it after some thought. Instead, he spent the time taking a look around the nature of the realm.

“Aether.” He called quietly, leaning on the door frame before fully welcoming himself in. “Come on, up.”

“Ugh, no..” He whined, turning around to face away from the other figure. “Later.”

“It’s almost two in the afternoon, and figuring Paimon’s been out for a bit..” he trailed off, returning to his previous position on the mattress. “What I'm trying to say is.. would you rather wake up to me or a screaming Paimon?

“..Good point.” Aether mumbled, “But I really, really don't want to.”

“Just come on. It's not the end of Teyvat y'know.” He replied, nudging the traveller somewhere on his torso, it was hard to tell under the blanket.

To Xiao’s surprise, he felt the other jolt away from his hand huff. “Mmph, dohont.. come onn, im tired~..”

“..Are you hurt?” He asked, gently moving the blanket to his upper thighs and poking around the area he had before. Considering the crop top, it didn't provide a lot of protection.

“hah.. noho, Xiao-” Aether giggled, shifting his position on the bed. “stop it..”

“You don't seem hurt.. you're laughing, after all.” Xiao thought out loud, tilting his head to the side. “Are you just pretending?”

“Xiao, it tickles.” Aether finally whispered, his knees curling in at the thought of it. “..Oh.” The adeptus said with a now understanding tone. “Good.”

“Good?” Aether repeated with a playful scoff, “How is that good?”

“Good because you're not in pain, like I previously expected.” He corrected himself. “Now.. Up. You have your daily commissions, don't you?”

The traveller groaned, crossing his arms over his face to block the sunlight from his eyes. “ugh, don't remind me..”

“Aether.” Xiao repeated sternly, “Last chance until I have to get you up myself. It’s too late to call this just ‘sleeping in’.”

“Boooo,” He mumbled, “Do your worst..”

Aether didn't really expect Xiao to do what he did.. After all, he didn't really have a great understanding of it, he forgot what it was just a few moments ago!

..So which is why he was surprised when he felt cold fingertips skitter up his side.

He yelped, his arms immediately shooting down and reaching for the attacker's hand. Of course, he was too sleepy to remember that Xiao was a literal adepti, and stopping his hand from reaching his own was probably the easiest thing in the world. “Xiahahao-” He whined, kicking his legs out from their previously curled position. “Cohome ohon!”

“If you just sat up, you could prevent this.” Xiao mumbled, pressing the said fingers into his lower tummy. The movement resulted in a loud yelp, rapid giggles flowing from the other’s throat.

“Yohou could prevehent this too! ju- jehesus chrihist!” He gasped, his hands still on a futile attempt to push the other’s away.

“Jesus who?” He asked, a confused look on his face. “You must be delirious..”

“Ahahm nohot!” He claimed, pushing his back into the mattress like that would do anything to ease the sensations. “if ihi am, ihits yohour fahault!”

“Hm. If you say so.” Xiao shrugged it off, seemingly careless. He began to move his hand down the side of his torso, latching onto his hip and squeezing softly. “Is this convincing you?”

“Ihits nohot!” Aether exclaimed, “Ihits- ihits making… yohou..- ugh, yohour impohossible!”

“I'm impossible?” He asked sarcastically, “Well, I'm not the one who overworked himself all night.. Honestly, Traveller.. I wish to know your thought process when you decided that was a good idea.”

“Cahan yohou shuhut uhuhup?!” He bucked slightly into the other’s hand, a small gasp leaving his lips before another round of giggles.

“Can you get up?” Xiao repeated, feeling an unusual amount of playfulness in the moment. Unusual.. but, welcomed. Especially when it turned the oh-so powerful Traveller into mush.

“Buhut I dohont wahant too!” He repeated himself, his head leaning back into the pillow, digging his heels into the bed. Xiao looked up, catching a glimpse of Aether’s face.

His fingers slowed to a stop as he stared at him, taking in his expression. “Hah.. x-xiao? What's wrong?” He asked in a giggly tone, his arms moving to cross over his tingling torso.

“..Nothing.” Xiao mumbled, blinking his gaze away from his face. “Your blushing~” He smiled smugly, tilting his head down. “What happe- xihihao!”

“You seem to have forgotten your current position, Aether.” He chuckled softly, letting his hand squeeze up from his lip to his stomach.

“Have you had enough yet? I trust you’ll get up eventually.” He mumbled, using his nails to scribble just above his navel.

“Ihi wihill, ihi wihill!” He whined, small breathy giggles leaving his lips at the aftermath of Xiao stilling his fingers.

“..In a second.” He finished his sentence, feeling a genuine laugh escaping him at the look Xiao gave him.

Without a second thought, The fingertips travelled up his ribcage and gently scritched in between the bones.

"You- ugh.."

“I was kidding-!”

#syns stuff #lee aether omg.#lee!aether #lee!traveller #lee!traveler #ler!xiao #ler xiao #lee aether #genshin impact tickles #genshin impact tickle #genshin tickles #genshin tickle #could be taken romantically but idk

124 notes · View notes