#where might my lonesome lover be

[vivalabunbun]

An Encore of Betrayal

Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.

Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)

Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.

Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!

Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.

One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships. 

Would you believe that such a place exists? 

Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues. 

Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.

A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’. 

Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine. 

A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy. 

Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.

But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy. 

It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.

Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling. 

Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers. 

----------

There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.

But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.

The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.

Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown. 

Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes. 

‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.

Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’

Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’ 

So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly. 

The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water. 

‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored. 

‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed. 

But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.

So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name. 

‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered. 

‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked. 

The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon. 

Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish. 

‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’

A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom. 

And they lived happily ever after. 

----------

Ah, so it was that tale. 

Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.

Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children. 

A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.

This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears. 

However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.

Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory. 

Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last. 

Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.

Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.

Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t? 

What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?

To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?

Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests. 

From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon. 

A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum?  It’d be best that he alleviates their worries. 

“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf. 

His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.

Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd. 

“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette. 

Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.

Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face. 

“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict. 

“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin. 

It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides. 

To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate. 

Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.

Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.

“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.

His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest. 

The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode. 

Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows. 

Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.

A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh. 

Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.

This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh. 

Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds. 

Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace. 

How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.

His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face. 

The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.

Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness. 

Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil. 

They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces. 

He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him. 

Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago. 

The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much. 

Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?

His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away. 

Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels. 

It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale. 

A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.  

The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside. 

Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands. 

The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.

Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately. 

A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago. 

Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself. 

A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.

The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath. 

“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes. 

Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert. 

“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand. 

He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.

Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled? 

“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.

Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?

The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.

This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil. 

“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response. 

Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words. 

“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation. 

Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you. 

“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets. 

A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips. 

“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone. 

“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy. 

A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.

Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress. 

“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.” 

It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude. 

“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare reminded on her short form. 

“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand. 

“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish. 

Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her. 

“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces. 

“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him. 

“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”

Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back. 

Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth. 

“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup. 

A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return. 

Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his. 

“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand. 

There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it. 

“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips. 

That was his rebuttal to that snarl.

The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth. 

 Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry. 

Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.

Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.

 

With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it. 

The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.

They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them. 

In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.

About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like. 

The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.

Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity. 

Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.

What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago? 

From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale. 

Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for. 

However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away. 

He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.

Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring. 

Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface? 

This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight. 

But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least. 

Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.

The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea. 

Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?

It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation. 

“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment. 

He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation. 

“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.

His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.

Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry. 

“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater running crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out. 

“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up. 

The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.

“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs. 

He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals. 

Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.

When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above. 

Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own. 

Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.

Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons. 

“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.

His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer. 

“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low. 

No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.

Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks. 

As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders. 

“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce. 

He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation. 

In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description? 

“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question. 

He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself. 

A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans. 

In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity. 

Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions. 

“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter. 

Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale. 

If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations? 

After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him. 

No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders. 

“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing. 

“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.” 

The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on. 

“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you. 

“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes. 

Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.

Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within. 

“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer. 

He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes. 

“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.

Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.

That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale. 

Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful. 

There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance. 

No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him. 

Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more. 

A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.

Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces. 

“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence. 

An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.

Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased. 

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him. 

Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels. 

“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag. 

Yes, Consomme Purete.

It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.

The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today. 

Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.

The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before. 

Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?

Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.

His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.

Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew. 

“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly. 

The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.

A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young. 

Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning. 

“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite. 

There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate. 

“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains. 

A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!” 

Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices. 

There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.

The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors. 

Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.

Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands. 

While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust. 

Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.

Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him. 

Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.

A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it. 

A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.

Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.

It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does. 

“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror. 

It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical. 

“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.

“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens. 

Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.

“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair. 

Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.

Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame. 

“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.

A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.

“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air. 

Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.

Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate. 

“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads. 

Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment 

A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully. 

“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.

His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes. 

Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean? 

“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.

A deep breath as he formulates his response. 

“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.” 

“Oh, I see,” you hum. 

 Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.

Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises. 

An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back. 

The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.

Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience. 

Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines. 

Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat. 

“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket. 

A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.

The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips. 

“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand. 

Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too. 

“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses. 

Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight. 

There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape. 

Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.

He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him. 

Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue. 

“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips. 

His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.

A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself. 

Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips? 

Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.

He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness. 

“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting. 

Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.

Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience. 

However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.

Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations. 

A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.

Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.  

Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.

A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse. 

This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.

He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong. 

Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?

To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting. 

Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted. 

The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same. 

Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek. 

A glimmer he once believed was love.  

The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did. 

For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.

She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.

Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.

Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity? 

Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine? 

If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.

 Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth. 

 She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.

What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.

A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear. 

Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine. 

Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:

‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’. 

What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves. 

 That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.

You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty. 

Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself. 

So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.

Was his torment entertaining to them? 

Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse. 

Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions. 

 Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates. 

To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence. 

The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.

The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection. 

His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.

The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire. 

The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.

But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame. 

The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.

The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves. 

Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil. 

An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils. 

Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star. 

You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud. 

A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.

Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression. 

A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.

Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.  

However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound. 

His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder. 

 Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.

With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.

Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.

Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame. 

A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.

Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself. 

Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate. 

A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.

One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.

It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides. 

A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.

Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times. 

The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.

It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight. 

The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.

What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.

You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.

To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.

It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours. 

Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?

Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him. 

Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.

Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play. 

“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.

Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.

How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?

Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you. 

“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins. 

After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer. 

“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders. 

“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.

Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions. 

However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs. 

“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.” 

Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes. 

“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire. 

“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.” 

“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes. 

He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing. 

“That is what you must find for yourself.” 

Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end. 

The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead. 

“Oh?”

“Oh?”

What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.

Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor. 

“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you. 

Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath. 

“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up. 

Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.

The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon. 

He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly. 

“Oh…”

It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight. 

This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.

It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you. 

It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his. 

Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him? 

“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws. 

“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?” 

Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?

The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions. 

You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire. 

Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs. 

Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation. 

“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen. 

Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl. 

“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over. 

“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.

A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel. 

This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup? 

“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness. 

Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat. 

“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises. 

A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space. 

“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something. 

As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders. 

Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride. 

You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return. 

“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation. 

The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips. 

“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something. 

After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.

Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup. 

In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Is your name Édouard?” 

Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.

You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.

Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.

However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?

Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows. 

Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics. 

Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.

He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name. 

Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.

All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.

He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.

“There’s a tear in your coat…” 

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear. 

“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams. 

He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say. 

“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer. 

It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands. 

To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment. 

Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host. 

“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.” 

His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.

As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.

“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands. 

Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him. 

“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair. 

Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.

However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture. 

Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.

His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table. 

The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences. 

“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth. 

Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.

Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.

Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long. 

“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself. 

Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.

Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body. 

Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.

If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them. 

Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.

Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure. 

By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.

Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support. 

Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.

The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands. 

“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude. 

He hums an answer. 

“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows. 

“Why did you say that?” You finish your question. 

Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences. 

The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool. 

“Do you really wish to know?” He warns. 

You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here. 

Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat. 

“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals. 

The needle stops.

“A curse?…” you stammer out. 

Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.

The answer was sitting just in front of him. 

“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?” 

To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.

But such hands could not touch a being such as him. 

“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept. 

“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber. 

Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.

To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.

For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea. 

Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse. 

“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper. 

Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears. 

“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.” 

Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale. 

Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?

A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal. 

 Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape. 

Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.

More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.

Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?

The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal. 

A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool. 

What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.

A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting. 

“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present. 

Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer. 

“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.” 

Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves. 

He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.

Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.  

“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap. 

A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace. 

However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice. 

Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.

Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.

It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles. 

Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor. 

Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.

Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette. 

“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.

“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.” 

“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…” 

There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt. 

“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.” 

She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face. 

“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate. 

You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel. 

“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns. 

A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets. 

Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd. 

“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress. 

“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside. 

“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted. 

Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.

They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses. 

He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.

For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison? 

His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now? 

“Could you be expecting?” 

Huh?

Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.

Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation. 

“Will there be a new addition to the village?” 

“How long do we have to wait?” 

“Are we getting a brother or sister?” 

Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat. 

“No,” he coughs out. 

A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes. 

“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement. 

A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.

A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine. 

“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps. 

You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.

A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down. 

“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles. 

Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness. 

Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time. 

Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?

Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?

“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks. 

Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down. 

“Where does a baby come from?” 

The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.

If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?

How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?

“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.

“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?” 

At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.

The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve. 

“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.  

“Of course, Sébastien.” 

His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts. 

“Regrettably, that is not my name.” 

“Was it at least a decent attempt?” 

He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.

Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed. 

His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.

Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.

Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.

No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.

“Do you miss the sea?” 

Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.

Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response. 

“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.” 

After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.

Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight. 

Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.

One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.

For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. 

Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips. 

His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.

Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.

However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands. 

When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle. 

It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.

The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish. 

A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.

An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…

Neuvillette clears his throat. 

“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you. 

“Oh?...” The comb stops.

At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone. 

A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff. 

“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly. 

The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’. 

Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily. 

He needs to leave now. For your sake. 

Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face. 

Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?  

The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn. 

The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin. 

How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering. 

A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory? 

Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.

No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.

Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct. 

From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly. 

But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity. 

He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows. 

Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought. 

The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.

“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.

Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust. 

“Neuvillette?” 

He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust. 

 The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart. 

Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure. 

However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment. 

So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets. 

A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer. 

“Neuvillette?…” 

His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion. 

He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face. 

“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes. 

The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form. 

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut. 

“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown. 

Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.

“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.

 Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.

“...But I missed you…” You whisper. 

Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth. 

“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this. 

“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.

Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body. 

“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit. 

“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder. 

Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes. 

Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.

“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours. 

Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat. 

And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy. 

“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it? 

Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long. 

Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat. 

The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.

His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air. 

Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.

A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away. 

Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?

They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.

Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right? 

His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.

Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise. 

His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections. 

Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?

Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?

There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch. 

Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper. 

Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin. 

Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.

A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.

Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit. 

Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.

Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires. 

A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.

Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well. 

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.

Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?

His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you. 

There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.

Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up. 

Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.

Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat. 

Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds.  Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.

The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.

Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.  

The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.

They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried. 

The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before? 

Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows. 

“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face. 

This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils. 

Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?

That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress. 

“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him. 

Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.

An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets. 

Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?

A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.

His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit. 

Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.

The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities. 

“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort. 

Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon. 

“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice. 

Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.

The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.

The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.

The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.

As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter. 

A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.

It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.

Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him. 

That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight. 

Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life. 

One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been. 

Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.

Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 

His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.

Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for. 

Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.

Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.

A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.

Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up? 

“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear. 

Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you. 

“That’s too bad.”

 His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms. 

He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.

Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you. 

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.

Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him. 

Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat. 

A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.

Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity. 

Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.

As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his. 

In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?

Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.

He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.

Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface. 

Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.

Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was. 

Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.

He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.

A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.

He doesn’t want to see it. 

The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues. 

But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.

What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much. 

It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.

As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin. 

Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them. 

How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick. 

You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.

How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters. 

You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition. 

If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting. 

Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.

The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.

Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?

There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.

Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame. 

There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.

Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.

His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips. 

The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.

The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head. 

Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.

He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all. 

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.

The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges. 

There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.

No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.

Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls. 

You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.

Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body. 

An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse. 

Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.

An offering made to him.

So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.

Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body. 

He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.

Why not renew it? 

Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.

Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape. 

‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.

Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.

No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well. 

It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.

But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper. 

Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon burly a hand.

Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.

An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his. 

Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.

Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind. 

A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.

However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart. 

The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession. 

For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.

No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles. 

He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.

Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown. 

Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.

 To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged. 

Oh, how could he not love you?

The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.

A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile. 

The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.

Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was. 

The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.

Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls. 

Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing. 

Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.

Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe. 

Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same. 

With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.

The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you. 

Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality. 

He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure. 

Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.

Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.

Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes. 

Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.

However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy. 

However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance. 

The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin. 

A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers. 

A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness. 

A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.

Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort. 

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel. 

You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.

Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you. 

“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.

Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom. 

“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand. 

Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism. 

“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue. 

“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind. 

A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him. 

“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”

A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”

“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice. 

Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.

Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.

“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support. 

With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.

Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.

What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface. 

“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone. 

However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall. 

“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues. 

‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears. 

“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning. 

There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.

But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water. 

To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.

However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?

To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.

Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?

Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth? 

His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.

No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending. 

Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.

The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before. 

“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him. 

Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace. 

As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile. 

Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.

Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time? 

Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours. 

Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors? 

A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.

Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon. 

“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?

“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away. 

Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.

“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.

Why must you keep lying to him? 

Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.

Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away. 

Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called? 

“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him. 

A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.

For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale. 

“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over. 

This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that? 

“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle. 

Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 

“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation. 

Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.

The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.

Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in. 

He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve. 

“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know. 

But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity. 

He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires. 

“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands. 

He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his. 

“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.

His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish. 

Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.  

Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.

Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions. 

He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses. 

The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks. 

 “Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now. 

Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could. 

Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches. 

Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks. 

Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here. 

What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil. 

“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”

A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?

Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks. 

“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.

“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.

Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue. 

“How could I hate you?” he confesses. 

Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation. 

For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time. 

Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.

Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours. 

“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks. 

That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you? 

Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long? 

“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict. 

“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.

He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes. 

Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.

Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge. 

A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods. 

However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition. 

If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

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[kismets-barista]

Hold onto your Stetson, @ohposhers; have I got some personal HickDory lore for you 😎💜🌟🫧

Excuse the insanity for those who don't feel compelled towards these two

SO!

Hickory and JD met a few good years before the events of the World Tour when Dory was traveling to find Lonesome Flats, got heatstroke and passed out in the desert. Wakes up to Hickory shadowed in the flickering light of a campfire beneath a canopy of the brightest stars he'd seen since the Neverglades, but it wouldn't be until QUITE a few months later until they really started developing crushes against each other. (Cowboy under the stars, you'd think he'd fall right then and there, right? 🌟)

Why was Hickory already in Lonesome Flats, you might ask? Where was Dickory?

In a glue trap, I say in response. Hickory came from Yodelsberg (is there a canonical name for this?) for international study and to learn about new music. He fell in love with country because yodeling and country music are actually quite gorgeous together. She Taught Me to Yodel, anyone?

Delta Dawn obviously didn't take to Dory showing up and around the town, but after some convincing by Hickory and lots of proving himself (plus a vulture attack that resulted in John Dory saving the very young niece of Delta Dawn- Clampers-) he 'earned' a place there and began to work around town.

It was weird for him.

He'd never quite settled down, until then.

(Now, the specific timeline, yearly I mean is a little muddled because I'm still crafting this, but I'll put them out about three years, now.)

John Dory was still living in Lonesome Flats, and he'd started a relationship with Hickory. They loved each other, as my cohort in crime @protagonist-art (CHECK OUT THEIR ART I LOVE THEM SM MUAH) has Hickory tell John when we get write them, "More than the moon loves the ocean." As surely as the tide pulls in and out, so the lovers return to each other.

So Via, what does Hickory think about BroZone?

Oh, my sweet star.

He doesn't know.

After returning to the devastated Troll Tree, John Dory lost a piece of his heart in the damaged pod they used to live in. It was the first time he went grey, and the memories of his brothers started shifting from what was, to what would never be again. He couldn't find it within himself to talk about them, and has his secrets.

But so does Hickory.

Girl wdym stop being so mysterious.

Heh. I know. It's just a glimpse into my dark mind /ref. Anyways, Hickory never told John Dory he was a Yodeler troll. (Another piece of lore that Quizzy and I worked on together and I think it's brilliant.)

Huh? Aren't they in a long-term relationship? Won't this cause issues later on if they don't share these things with each other?

Oh, they love every aspect of each other too much for their bond to truly be broken.

And yet.

One morning, years after just living and loving, John Dory wakes up with a massive headache and nausea.

"Maybe it's that horse that kicked me yesterday, could've gotten me harder than we both thought."

"Lemme check for a knot, Darlin'."

No knots, but there was an egg.

🌟 (Here I'll say that I'm massively in love with the headcanon that trolls conceive through true love- it isn't quite necessary for them to physically do anything unless they want to. Just them, wholeheartedly trusting and putting everything into their relationship and pouring their heart out to their partner.)

They were absolutely ECSTATIC, and rightfully terrified in their own ways. Neither of them were looking for children but not against it, and after resting for a few days they began to plan. A nursery in the house, baby books with millions of names scattered on the coffee table, toys and cute little baby clothes for when the little one hatched.

Wanna know two of the names John Dory had in mind? Rhonda and Dolly.

They were ecstatic until the night John Dory woke up absolutely ill and with a pit in his stomach.

They lost the egg, and it was the second time John Dory went grey in his life.

A week after this had happened, John Dory left a bundled lock of his hair at Hickory's nightstand and did what he knows how to do all too well. He ran.

Hickory never went too far out of Lonesome Flats in the hopes that John Dory would come back. He couldn't imagine what would happen if his love came back and didn't find him there.

The events of World Tour come about, Hickory meets Branch, and travels for the first time since John Dory left.

John Dory continued to travel, until the events of Band Together.

But don't worry, dear readers, for as surely as the tides come in, so will the lovers meet again. 🌟

Aaaand BOOM! That's it! 💜 I've got lore behind the names Rhonda and Dolly as well, and am SO down to answer any questions about them that anyone has. For you, Posh, thank you for asking and helping me to share a story I've been working on, and for everyone else that read this, thank you kindly! I hope that everyone who made it this far has quite a lovely day, or if you didn't, have a lovely day anyways!

Remember to take your meds, drink water, eat something, and stretch!

💜🌟🫧

#trolls band together #trolls 2023 #writers of tumblr #writer on a03 too #john dory trolls #john dory #JD #jd trolls #band together #trolls fandom #hickory #hickory trolls #world tour #trolls world tour #HickDory #neverglades hiker boy #Yeehaw Faker #but oh does he do it WELL #pop trolls #country trolls #yodeler trolls #headcanon post #headcanon #trolls headcanons #viadrabbles

[strniohoeee]

Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 3

Read part 1 and part 2 here

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: It’s been a month and all Y/N keeps hitting is dead end after dead end. Not only that but she seems to have formed a friendship with the strange boy. Will this hinder her research??

Warnings⚠️: Nothing really tbh, anxiety inducing parts, talks of cults briefly, psycho Matt, oh and one last thing SMUT, submissive-ish Matt??

Songs for imagine: Lonesome Town- Ricky Nelson and This Haunted House- Loretta Lynn

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Taglist: @gamermattsgf @lacysturniolo @franticroads @creamoncreamoncream2 @melanch0lybby @anlqq @cindylcuwho @nicksmainbitch @riverwritez @s7urnfilms (idk I might’ve missed some people🥺)

There’s a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles

And they call it Lonesome Town

Where the broken hearts stay

The rain trickled down the window as the pen in my hand ghosted over the papers scattered all over the small desk. My eyes glued to the rain, watching the dirt become mud and the grass drown.

Vigorously tapping the pen back and forth on the paper clad desk as my leg bounced quickly. Many thoughts running through my head, but none that could be placed properly.

I was a full month into my research and for some reason I was way more confused now than before stepping foot into this town. I thought I found out a lot more, but it’s either dead ends or more weird shit going on.

I was pretty much hanging out with Matt everyday, it took a while for his parents to warm up to me; but the more he brought me around the more they got comfortable.

What royally sucked was that I was becoming so close to them that I felt weird asking any questions about the dark history of this town. I truly felt bad and like I was hiding something from them.

Professor Wayne wrote to me pretty much everyday, and all I could tell him was how nervous I was to dig further. Scared to unearth something that might actually keep me trapped here.

Letting out a long sigh I slid back from the desk letting out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Slipping my slippers on, I shuffled down to the kitchen.

Opting once again for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some water and some leftover popcorn from the previous night.

Sitting alone in silence at the table I let my mind wander. Glancing over at the back door as the rain pattered against it. I was feeling pretty useless right about now.

It’s so crazy how you can go from feeling invincible to pretty much a useless piece of shit. I felt like I had no purpose here. Endlessly wasting my time day in and day out.

I wasn’t sure if it was the shitty weather that made me feel this way, or if I was actually wasting my time. Rolling my eyes I took another bite of my sandwich. Blinking slowly as I chewed the thick piece that was in my mouth.

I used this time to look around the kitchen. I mean this was in fact an old house with…. I’m to presume many previous owners. Smiling gently my brain painted the image of an innocent family spending their holidays in this kitchen. Laughing, feasting, talking…. It’s so crazy how things come and go, including people.

My eyes scanned in front of me, and it was only then that I saw the gold reflection of a doorknob. My eyes lit up! How did I forget about the basement? A whole month here and I never once thought to check the basement.

Washing down the last bit of my sandwich with my water I placed my dishes in the sink before walking over to the door.

Grabbing the door knob I twisted and pulled, but to my surprise I was shocked by a thud. The door was locked. Shaking my head I walked over to the kitchen light switch flicking it on and I walked back over to the door.

My eyes squinted once I saw that not only was the door locked but the whole door had been painted over. A shitty light green might I add. It’s like when you move into an old apartment and maintenance repaints but they painted over light switches, the breaker box and even bugs….

“Ughhh everytime I think I find something it’s another dead end” I say out loud banging a flat hand against the door

But then I figured I could ask Matt to somehow break this door down for me. Sighing I dragged my feet back to the kitchen table sinking into the wooden chair. I threw my head back and groaned, rubbing my hands over my face

My head shot up as I looked at the kitchen walls…. That same shitty green color. My brows immediately furrowed and my back straightened.

To the naked eye this seems normal, but I remembered something. The listing didn’t show the kitchen being this color.

Scooting back harshly I bolted up the stairs rounding the corner as I ran into my room. Breathing heavy as I opened safari on my laptop.

Opening Zillow I went to the listing for this house, my eyes scanned the page before getting to the end.

“Last updated by realtor on 05/13/2023”

Rummaging through the papers on my desk I found my phone, opening up the phone calls I went back to May. I called Beaufort on May 16th…..3 days after the pictures were updated on the house.

Two and a half weeks is more than enough time to paint evidence over…. Especially incriminating evidence. I swear the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.

Opening a new tab I decided to search up this address and literally the only thing that came up was the Zillow page. This house is so fucking old and not a single thing pops up on it. The next best place would be the public library and lord knows if some weird shit went on in this house all those files would be burned or blocked out on the database.

Slamming my laptop screen down I ran my hands through my hair. I opted to go back downstairs. Swinging every drawer and cabinet door open in hopes I’d find the basement door key.

No surprise I didn’t find it, but I decided to take a knife and cut through the paint like that one scene in Coraline. And to make it even creepier I’m sure my fate would be ending up like poor Coraline….

Pulling and rattling at the door knob some more, I kicked the door once I realized I couldn’t get it open. And this wasn’t something I could go to Beaufort with….. I probably shouldn’t even be going to Matt with this, but whatever.

Feeling defeated, I decided to shower and relax for a bit. About two hours later my phone rang, and it was Matt calling from his bedroom phone. Can’t believe this guy still has a landline…. They really live like it’s the 80s here.

“Hello Matt” I said placing the phone to my ear

“Hi darling” he says on the other line, playfully rolling my eyes at the pet name

“You rang?” I asked as I looked at my nails

“Ahh yes, well you see I’m actually relatively bored this fine evening. Want to hang out?” He asked me

“I’m pretty bored myself. I’d love to hang out” I said as I sat up

“Alright sweetheart I’ll be over in like an hour, sounds good?” He asked me

“Yeah sounds great” I stated to him

Matt was so funny and awkward you could tell he didn’t really speak to girls because he didn’t even know how to end a call. He’d just hang up and I’d usually crack up laughing as I shook my head.

I decided to clean up my room. Hiding my paperwork and laptop under the bed. Thank god there was a skirting around it to hide everything or else I’d be royally screwed.

Sitting at my desk I saw Matt flicked his bedroom light to let me know he was coming over. I got up from my seat and headed downstairs. I held the door open as Matt made a run for it in the rain.

“FAST FAST” I yelled to him as he hopped onto the porch

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there” he said slipping his boots off at the front door

“Ew…you talk so old southern style” I said scrunching my nose up

“Well…” he said cocking his eyebrows at me while pointing down his body

“Sorry! Sometimes I forget you really are southern” I said laughing

“It’s alright darling, hope you’re hungry I brought dinner” he said holding up a huge lunch box.

“I actually am” I said nodding my head as we made our way to the kitchen table

“Okay so mama made her famous roast, with some carrots, corn and grilled potatoes” he said as he pulled the Tupperware out of the lunch box

“That sounds sooo good, tell your mom I said thank you” I told him

“Will do little lady” he said winking at me

I grabbed us some soda as he set our dishes out full of food. As we sat eating quietly he gaze often jumped over mine whenever he saw me look at him. I found it adorable…he was so nervous.

“I hope I didn’t put your mom out, you know like having her make extra food for me” I said cutting some meat

“Oh no, no worries…. You see mama thinks…. Well mama thinks we’re more than….more than just friends” he replies getting a bit shy and blushing

“Oh.. have you never brought a girl home before?” I asked, mentally smacking myself in the face for asking such a rude question

“Not since little suzie….but we were like 9. Swore we was gonna grow up, get married, have a family” he said giggling a bit

“And what happened to that?” I asked him

“Ahh her family decided to move right before high school started…never saw her again” he says swallowing thickly as he blinked rapidly

“I’m sorry Matt” I said taking a sip of my drink

“Oh it’s alright, it was just a foolish thing to think” he says laughing

“Since her…has there been no one else?” I asked him

“No. There’s no real time for that round these parts either you grow up as neighbors and end up marrying or you stay solo forever” he says shrugging his shoulders

“Seems a bit outdated” I replied back

“It is, but it's just the way it is” he says back

“But anyways, how are you liking Oklahoma so far?” He asks me as he sips his drink

“Other than missing my family and friends, I’m thoroughly enjoying it here” I said to him

“Do you plan on going back? Or having them visit?” He retorts

“I was thinking maybe for the holiday season they could come here, there’s plenty of room here for them” I said to him

“Yeah there is” he says nodding his head

“And speaking of plenty of space I remembered there’s a basement here. I can probably set a few friends up down there, except there’s one problem” I replied looking over my shoulder at the door

“What’s that?” He asks eagerly

“It seems to be locked and I can’t find the key, do you think there’d be an extra somewhere in this town?” I said looking back at him

“Oh you know the basement keys are universal, way back when they figured as a small town it would be easier to make the keys universal so if someone lost theirs then they could call their neighbors” he says as he cuts a piece of meat, as I began to have a lightbulb moment

“You don’t say” I reply sliding my tongue over my teeth

“Except only issue is as of recently due to termites and water damage the chairman’s from the towns had gone into every home, painting over the doors and locking them while also confiscating any keys. Just so that no ones tempted to use the basement…..that would be many lawsuits if something went wrong” he says looking up at me

“Ohhhh I see, wow that sucks” I said to him, mentally sighing in defeat. I literally could not stop hitting dead ends and it was killing me

After dinner Matt had helped me clean the kitchen up and helped me pack his mothers Tupperware away.

“I can’t thank you enough for dinner” I say handing him the last container

“It’s my pleasure darling” he says winking once again at me

“Wanna come up to my room?” I asked him as I dried my hands

“Yeah sure” he replied placing the lunch box down

We headed up to my room, turning the light on Matt plopped down on my bed letting out a loud sigh. Fluffing my pillow up he laid it against the headboard while leaning back

“I know I don’t have much here especially no TV, but I do have some books I bought from back home” I say to him shrugging my shoulders

“I wouldn’t mind reading” he says nodding his head

As I open my mouth to reply the power suddenly goes out

“What the fuck” I say out loud

“Anytime it rains even an ounce the power goes out. Faulty wires and old houses” Matt says laughing

“How do we fix it?” I asked him

“We don’t, it usually goes back up in like 3 hours. I’ll run to my house and grab some candles keep it bright until the power goes back on, and I’ll even keep you company too” he says smiling at me

“That sounds nice” I say to him nodding

As quickly as Matt left to get some candles, it was as quickly as he came back. He had a small duffle bag and he pulled out many candles and a box of matches.

Removing his sweater and placing it down to dry on the door knob, my eyes couldn’t peel away from how nicely that white shirt sat on his body….

Matt and I lit a shit ton of matches all over my room, it was now warm lit and very…..intimate might I add.

“I hope this is good enough for you” Matt says blowing out the last match

“Oh no this is perfect I honestly prefer candlight over artificial light” I said waving him off

He laughed and fluffed the pillow up before laying on my bed again. Propping himself up against my headboard as he crossed his legs over.

I sat next to him with my back against the headboard as well. Grabbing my copy of Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson I relaxed my shoulders before opening the book to where I last left off.

“I hope you don’t mind I started the book already” I said looking over at Matt

“Doesn’t bother me” he says nodding for me to go on

“My room belongs to an alien. It is a postcard of who I was in fifth grade. I went through a demented phase when I thought that roses should cover everything and pink was a great color” I read aloud as my finger ghosted the rough paper

Stopping I looked up, taking my bottom lip into my mouth and sinking my teeth into the flesh.

“Isn’t it crazy how fast we change” I said chewing the already shredded skin on the inside of my mouth

“I’m not even sure I know what change is” Matt whispers

Looking over at him I watch the warm light reflect against his blue eyes. And for a split second I swear I can see his past in them. Sad….lonely….misunderstood…..

“I’m just following the norm here. I’m becoming what every man becomes. I’m growing, but am I changing? I’m not when I’m the exact same as the ancestors who came before me” he states swallowing thickly

“Have you ever considered leaving?” I ask him

“And go where?” He asks

“You could always come to Vegas….with me” I state in a whisper

“But all I know is Pleasant Town” he replies shaking his head

“Well now you know me, I mean we could at least visit I can show you where I’m from like you did with me” I say smiling at him

“I’d like that a lot actually” he says nodding at me

But suddenly he grows cold and immediately his attitude changes

“That’s just a fairytale though. I belong here on the farm and taking care of my parents” he says firmly

“And no one’s saying you can’t do that, but at least vacation for a little bit” I say to him

Shutting my book I place it on the night stand as I give Matt my full attention.

“You can experience so many new things! See and do things you’ve never done before” I say to him tapping him on his knee

“Like what?” He asks laughing

“You can go to the Las Vegas strip, we can go shopping and we can go see where Elvis Presley used to perform, shit we could even get you a one night stand. I mean it’s Vegas you know what they say… what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” I say to him giggling

“Ehhhh” he says sounding hesitant

“Okay what about that plan do you not want to do?” I ask him

“The one night stand…. I’m not experienced with women” he says shyly

“What? You? You’re telling me in this whole town you’ve never been with a single girl?” I asked him genuinely shocked

“No…” he says once again shyly

“That’s alright, well let’s see you’ve at least kissed a girl right?” I ask him as he shakes his head no

“Held hands?” I asked raising my eyebrow and he shakes his head no once again

“Uhhh innocent flirting?” I ask

“No” he says laughing a bit

“That’s alright! We can…we can get you practicing now and this way you’ll be a champ in Vegas” I say laughing

“Practice?” He asks looking a bit unsure

I grab his hand and interlock our fingers as I look back up at him

“Holding hands… check!” I say smiling

Turning more towards him I place my hand on his cheek as I look into his eyes

“Can I kiss you?” I ask genuinely

“Yes ma'am” he whispers out breathlessly against me

Leaning in I peck his lips quickly

“What I did you’re also going to do okay?” I say to him and he nods

Leaning in again we both press our lips together, pulling away Matt looks at me before attaching his lips to mine again.

Shuffling over I straddled his lap as we pulled away, and Matt looked at me with doe eyes as his chest rose and fell rapidly. A dazzling blush across his nose and cheeks and pupils blown wide.

“Is this okay?” I ask him and to this he nods

“Darlin I don’t know what I’m doing, but just know I’m enjoying myself” he says to me as he licks his lips

“I can teach you some things, and don’t be afraid to stop me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to” I say to him

“Okay” he says nodding vigorously

Removing my shirt I look over to Matt

“You can touch me you know” I say to him

“I don’t know how” he replied back

Grabbing his hands I placed them on my breast and his mouth hung open. Gently caressing them I moan against his touch.

It wasn’t long before Matt’s shirt was off and I was peppering kisses along his neck and down his chest. My bare chest against his warm skin. His breathing became rapid as his hands traced along my back.

“Please don’t stop” he breathes out as I look up at him

Raking my nails up and down his body I leave open mouth kisses along his warm skin as his hips buckle up against me.

“Pretty girl I need more” Matt moans out as his brows furrowed

Letting my hand caress over his growing bulge his hips fly up as he moans. Covering his face in the crook of his elbow.

“You don’t have to cover yourself for me” I say to him as I rub my hands up his torso

“I’ve just never done anything like this before I don’t want to embarrass myself” he says to me

“Listen my love I’m taking the lead tonight so there’s no need to feel pressured or embarrassed, and if at any point you want to stop we can” I say to him kissing his cheek

“Okay” he says swallowing thickly

Ghosting my fingers over his large buckle I unhook his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down. I help him slide out of his jeans. Tossing them somewhere behind me on the floor

To my surprise he was in briefs rather than boxers which left little to the imagination. My cunt was actually clenching on nothing at the sight.

Ghosting my nails in between the waistband of his underwear. He lied against the mattress moaning and twitching. Begging to be released

Sliding out of my bottoms I straddled him once again. The only thing separating us was our underwear. Sliding up and down against him we both let out a load sigh

“Holy shit this feels so good darlin” he moans out looking up at me

Matt moves his hands up my thighs and to my breasts, lightly squeezing them as I moan and shutter against his touch.

“Kiss me please” he says desperately

Leaning down I kiss Matt, grinding down against him harder causing him to open his mouth. Which allowed me to slip my tongue in. For a moment it took him a while to get the hang of it, but soon after our tongues were fighting for dominance. The kiss was hot and messy and so so needy.

Releasing myself from him I leaned back, scooting back I slid his briefs down. His hard dick springing up as I bit my lip

“God you’re so hot” I said to him

“Oh sweetheart no one’s ever called me that” he says biting his lip

“I’ll scream it from the hilltops if I have to” I responded to him

Sliding my underwear to the side I gently rubbed the tip of his dick along my cunt. Both of our moans syncing together.

“Are you ready?” I ask him

“Yes maam” he says back grabbing onto my hips

Slowly I began to sink down on his length. The burn sent shivers up my spine. Both of our mouths hang open as my toes curl. Completely bottoming out I let out a load moan

Slowly bouncing up and down on his dick I allow him to get adjusted to the feeling.

“Holy shit Oh my god” he moans out as he watches me bounce up and down

“You feel so good” I moan out as I begin to grind down on him

“Oh my goddd” he whines out as I begin to feel his thighs shake

Bringing my hand down I rub my clit as I bounce on his dick. My thighs shake as I bring myself closer to the edge.

“Fuck Matt I’m so close to cumming” I whine out as my breathing becomes heavy

“Me too, oh godddd” he moans out as his torso begins to lift off the bed every now and then

Leaning forward I grind up and down, allowing my clit to massage against his pelvic bone. Without warning Matt opens his mouth and begins to swirl his tongue around my nipple, sucking and licking like his life depended on it

“Fuckkkk” I moan out clenching down on him

Within seconds I’m cumming all over his dick, shaking and moaning as I clench down on him. Continuing to ride out my high I feel Matt twitch

“I think I’m going to cum?” He moans out

Once again I feel his thighs shake and his lower abdomen tighten. And I hop off and just as I do Matt’s cumming all over his lower stomach. Whining and moaning as he comes down from his high

Heavy breaths and groans as he involuntarily twitches.

“Feeling okay cutie?” I ask him as I pet his hair and pull him closer

“That felt amazing, I’ve never felt that good in my life” he says looking up at me with puppy dog eyes

“And in time it only gets better” I say laying a kiss on his lips

We laid there for a little while talking and kissing and finally we decided to get up and get cleaned. Laying back down I read some more of my book. Until eventually we fell asleep and most candles had gone out by this point.

We fell asleep snuggled together, and at some point in the night we shifted opposite ways. But at around 2am I got up to use the bathroom.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I cracked my neck and back before standing up. Lightly walking from my side to around the bed, but before I could finish coming around I had stepped on something

Silently wincing I looked down, seeing some type of metal I assumed it was Matt’s belt buckle. Smiling and blushing to myself I bent down picking the item up, but to my surprise it was what felt like keys.

Running into the bathroom I shut the door, gently opening the shower curtain to let the moonlight come in through the window. I held the keys up. They looked pretty normal except for one.

It said “BASEMENT” on it and I blinked to make sure I wasn’t half asleep.

Peeing quickly I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. Sticking my head out of the bathroom I peaked over at Matt who was snoring peacefully.

Sighing I tip toed out of the bedroom and quietly down the stairs. I mean as quiet as I could….it was an old house. Lightly walking towards my kitchen thanking the lord for the moonlight coming in through my back door. I was able to see the basement door perfectly.

Sticking the key in lightly I turned it to the left, and heard a click. Silently cheering I turned the knob and opened the door surprisingly the door wasn’t creaky.

I figured I would go down , check it out real quick and go back upstairs. Placing the keys back where I found them.

Shutting the door behind me I felt for a light switch on the right side, and I flicked it on. In about three seconds I heard the faint buzz of a warm light turn on.

Stepping down the stairs gently I turned the corner. The basement looked really nice actually. It was pretty well kept for how old the house was. I didn’t see any water damage nor any termites, but hey who knows.

Walking in a bit more I saw large desks with papers everywhere and bulletin boards covered in papers and a lot of dust….

Walking over to the area I blew some dust around and even wiped it with my fingers. Looking to my right there was a lamp. Testing the odds it actually turned on illuminating the area for me a bit more.

My eyes squinted trying to read everything. My eyes scanned the bulletin board.

“Animal slayings”

“Cult rituals”

“Witch craft like sacrifices”

My eyes went wide. I finally was finding something… and the whole time it was in my house?

I looked to my right and that’s when I got a little bit nervous

“Suzie Buchanan, age 14, found slain in her father’s farm house”

Surely this couldn’t be thee Suzie Matt knew……

I mean that’s recent years? How would that even be in this house? I was becoming anxious with dread.

Looking down at the table I looked at the newspapers closely.

“Thomas Sturniolo released from prison”

“Thomas Sturniolo still being questioned about cult killings”

“Sturniolos back in town?” One read

These were all newspapers not from this town…. Something deeper was going on here….someone knew more than they were saying. There’s an outside source here and I haven’t known this whole time.

Flipping open the newspaper my eyes scanned the text.

“Thomas Sturniolos home 27 Field Drive has been purchased by his grandson”

27 Field Drive was this house….. my hands began to shake as I realized what was going on. This whole time I’ve been living in Thomas Sturniolos house. And there’s someone who knows about me…. My heart began to speed and I rummaged through more newspapers

“A new generation of Sturniolos” one newspaper read

Opening up the newspaper my eyes scanned the page

“Jimmy Sturniolo has now purchased 26 Field Drive, directly across the street from his estranged grandfather's home located at 27 Field Drive” it read

“What the fuck?” I whispered as a cold sweat began to take over

Scanning along the page some more

“Jimmy Sturniolo avoids questions from sources asking about his grandfather. Seen here with one of his sons Matthew Sturniolo covering his face” I read

My heart was thumping out my chest as I let the papers fall from my hands.

You know those scenes in movies where the protagonist is just standing still as the world around her moves and her hearing has gone clouded?? Yeah that’s me right now

Unbeknownst to Y/N Matt had snuck downstairs after realizing she was gone. Sinking down the stairs of the basement he watched the young woman shake in fear as she read the newspapers.

Shaking his head and mentally cursing himself out he quietly walked up behind her

I stood there in fear not really sure what to do. Pretend like nothing happened and wait till tomorrow morning to book it out of town, or book it out of town right now while Matt’s asleep??

Racking my brain for answers I stood there when suddenly I heard

“I’m so sorry” turning around slightly I was faced with Matt

“Wha-“ but before I could finish my sentence Matt charged at me

Grabbing the back of my head and holding a chloroform covered rag against my nose and mouth

And suddenly it all went

BLACK

The End

Don’t kill me for the cliffhanger😏. Had to spice it up a bit. Now I will be working the next four days, so I will try and work on Part 4 a little bit and hopefully have it up soon for you guys. I love you all so dearly 🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

[venuszn]

☆ : The Sun & Moon

Summary / Reader is hurting from the breakup between her and Bada.

Cw / Heavy angst, Avoidant and Anxious dynamic, Situationship, Emotional codependency, Bada is emotionally unavailable and is also hurting.

Authors note / I totally did not write this in one sitting to vent out the emotions I am feeling nope did not do that at all. Lol anyways I might be in my angst era this one was easy to write (it was therapy). Also, if you got the moon reference at the very end then yay. As usual you can always request and lmk what you think ! 💗

Wc / 1.3K words

Nobody prepared you for this. You did not prepare for this.

Of course, you have been here before. The situation, not being one of unfamiliarity, but you had hoped it would have evaded you for years to come or perhaps even forever. But yet, you find yourself at the very place you dread. The bottomless pit of the feeling named abandonment. You were truly and utterly alone.

How does one mourn the loss of a person still breathing ? Of a person still of flesh and blood. How does one attempt to manoeuvre this emotion and steer themselves onwards and upwards, out of the coldness of the darkness. Nobody prepared you for this.

You drag your feet out of bed, body heavy and thoughts accompanying. Bada should be beside you, but she is not. You look to the bed and you can almost see her laying there, fringe messily draped over her forehead as she would hold you from behind; her soft fingers gently tracing your skin as the both of you would lay there intertwined in body and heart. She always slept on the right and you on the left - that was how things were supposed to be. Now you wake up to nothing but the faint ghosts of what could have been.

You still sleep on the left.

As you gaze into the dirty mirror, a person you cannot recognise lazily gazes back. Her eyes empty but weeping with emotion. But no tears. Your eyes flicker to the toothbrush holder - yours stands in lonesome.

The irony if it all doesn't escape you - how does a person afraid of abandonment initiate the abandoning ? A person who is tired and at their breaking point.

You had always believed that Bada was the one. Nobody had ever made you feel the way she did. Nobody had understood you the way she did and with her you felt an unwavering sense of home - if she was the moon you were the sun.

But perhaps there’s a reason why the sun and the moon are long lost lovers, the beauty of their differences being the harmony that keeps them in balance, but forever doomed to chase the other to the ends of the earth.

You would have chased Bada to the ends of the earth. But would she have done the same for you ?

Despite how many times Bada tried to provide the reassurance you sought, insecurity remained at the back of your mind. You tried your hardest to be the sun for Bada. You saw how she was struggling, how there were times where she couldn't be emotionally present for you but you still shone your rays over her. Overshadowing your own troubles you gave her all of your light, hoping that she would soon start glowing.

But she didn’t.

The mourning had already begun.

As the days passed you felt Bada pulling further away. Your biggest fear. The moon can’t pull away from the sun, what would happen to the existing balance and harmony that they shared ?

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you a relationship right now. I’ve told you this.”

“I know.” You say as you sit on the bed, head down and playing with your fingers.

“So what should we do ?”

“I don’t know . . .” Bada never knew.

“I need you to make a decision, Bada. I’m here right now because I care about you a whole fucking lot. Probably a lot more than you care about me. How many times do we have this conversation a month ? You say you can’t give me a relationship and I say ‘It’s fine’ and I stay because you want me to stay and I want to stay. I don’t want to leave you.” You choke out, swallowing the lump rising in your throat.

Bada sighs and runs her long fingers through her hair in defeat. “And I don’t want to leave you either. But I also know that I'm not ready to give you a proper relationship. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated. I want to do all of that and more for you but I just can’t - not right now.”

“So when ?”

“I don’t have the answer to that.”

“But you want me to stay ?”

“It’ll hurt like a bitch if you leave.”

“Then I'll stay.”

It was a vicious cycle. You and Bada were heavily dependent on the other - truly the sun and the moon.

A period of time passed where the both of you deluded yourselves into pretending that everything was fine - that you were not both teetering on the edge of gravity. A relationship but lacking the security. It was nothing but a ticking time bomb ready to implode.

Tick.

Gentle touches and hushed sounds. Innocent kisses and those filled with longing. You both continued the facade - ignoring the faint ticking sound of the inevitable in the background.

Tick.

Bada would lean down and eagerly kiss you - when asked.

She would wrap her arms around you, engulfing you in her comfortable embrace and give tender kisses to your forehead - when asked.

“Bada, why don't you kiss me first ?” You had asked one day, feeling the insecurity creep up once more.

“Oh, I’m not used to initiating affection. It’s not something I've done in the past but please don’t think I don’t want to kiss or touch you. I do - that's why I always do it when you ask.”

“Oh, alright.”

Tick.

You knew Bada, you knew she would never intentionally cause you pain. You understood her behaviour and tried your hardest to accommodate your differing personalities. You truly cared for her and so you stayed and stayed everytime.

Tick.

But just as all things began they must also come to an end.

What will happen once the sun stops shining ? How many aeons will it take till it finally gives up - till the fuel runs dry and it begins to die.

“Bada, if you don’t want to do this anymore we don’t have to . . .”

Bada had pulled further away that week and you were at a loss. You were exhausted.

“It’s not that. It’s not about you specifically. I’m just not okay right now, you know this. There’s a lot going on and I don't know when I'll be ok . . . This isn’t fair to you, I know.”

“I think we should end this.”

Your eyes don’t leave Bada’s face as you read her expression - nothing.

Maybe you had both come to terms with it.

“I’m sorry. I tried to be happy for you and tried to pretend that everything was okay - that we were okay.”

“We haven’t been okay for a while now. And I wasn’t happy either. But it's fine. One of us had to make the difficult decision that we had been avoiding so at least now it’s been made. I hope you can be happier now, Bada.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you . . . I don’t know what else to say right now.”

“That's okay. You don't have to say anything more, I'll be going now.”

You had taken a few of your things from her place and left through the door, unsure of if you ever wanted to return to collect the rest of your belongings. Your heart had never ached like it did in that moment.

You were no longer the sun.

The reflection gazing back at you was not one of brightness and warmth. You were barren of warmth and light as you wondered if you should have confessed to the moon and complemented its beauty.

The words, accompanied with the rise of tears, fall from your lips and into the deadness of the air.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it ?”

Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! [OPEN]

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada imagine #bada lee swf #bada lee #bada lee imagine #two fics in one day i know crazy

[bylerspookie]

something something about Mike leaving Hawkins and Will having an internal conflict on whether he should stay or go

(I uses colors to show which lyrics relate to eachother, except for like, at the end the colors kind of mix up, I ran out of colours, anyway you'll figure it out)

Smalltown Boy: (associated with Mike)

run away, turn away

alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face

mother will never understand why you had to leave

but the answers you seek will never be found at home

the love that you need will never be found at home

pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy (we know that Mike is bullied, and it's hinted that Mike is depressed and lonely, most of the time in his basement)

but you never cried to them, just to your soul

cry boy, cry

Should I Stay or Should I Go: (associated with Will)

darling, you got to let me know

should I stay or should I go? (notice how Mike's song is about leaving, whilst Will's is a question, "should I leave too?")

if you say that you are mine

I'll be here 'till the end of time (when Labyrinth gate and 20 gate meet @connect-dots7 )

It's always tease, tease, tease (MHMMMMM)

you're happy when I'm on my knees

this indecision's bugging me (esta indecisión me molesta)

if you don't want me, set me free (si no me quieres, librarme)

Always Something There To Remind Me: (associated with Mike)

I was born to love you, and I will never be free (there's too much for this to just be a coincidence guys)

California Dreamin': (associated with Mike and Will)

I'd be safe and warm (I'd be safe and warm)

if I was in L.A. (if I was in L.A.)

stopped into a church

I passed along the way

well, I got down on my knees (got down on my knees) (I'M GIGGLING RN BECAUSE THEY SO OBVIOUSLY DID THIS ON PURPOSE)

and I pretend to pray (I pretend to pray) (Mike always weirdly being associated with religion mhmmm)

you know the preacher likes the cold (preacher like the cold) (woah there now)

he knows I'm gonna stay (knows I'm gonna stay) (OH MY GOD)

Heroes: (associated with Mike and Will)

'cause we're lovers, and that is a fact (lovers lake lovers lake lovers lake lovers lake)

yes we 're lovers, and that is that

we could steal time just for one day (STEAL TIME??? 20 GATE/LABYRINTH GATE - MIKE WHEELER YOU ARE NEVER GONNA BEAT THE TIME ALLEGATIONS)

I, I wish you could swim (lovers lake lovers lake lovers lake lovers lake)

like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim

I, I can remember (I remember)

standing, by the wall (by the wall)

and the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) (the guns = electricity I don't make the rules, Alexa play "Are 'Friends' Electric?" from Mike Wheeler's Basement Beats)

and we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall)

and the shame, was on the other side (the upside down and the real world is mentioned as "the other side" in the show all the time, maybe they kiss in the upside down with everyone else on the other side, therefore the shame would be on the other side? idk)

maybe we're lying, then you better not stay (LITERALLY SCREAMING)

When It's Cold I'd Like To Die:

where were you when I was lonesome? (THIS IS SO MIKE GUYS, "always a lonely boy")

locked away with freezing cold (HELLO)

I don't wanna swim the ocean (lovers lake lovers lake lovers- okay I'll stop)

I don't wanna fight the tide

I don't wanna swim forever

when it's cold I'd like to die

I don't wanna swim forever

I don't wanna fight the tide

I don't wanna swim the ocean

when it's cold I'd like to die

Are 'Friends' Electric? : (associated with Mike)

It's cold outside (I'm tired guys there's actually too much, I think I might stop here because literally every song connects I swear)

so now I'm alone (Mike, how lonely are you? No, seriously, is he okay? {He isn't} Even in "Tarzan Boy" it says "on my own like Tarzan boy" something isn't right here)

now I can think for myself

and things that I just don't understand

like a white lie that night (a white lie that night? maybe it's referring to the monologue when he says "I love you", I don't think so, that's a very big lie lol. I think this is referring to the "El commissioned the painting" from Will. Mike definitely knows that something is up, especially with his facial expressions in that scene, I've already made a post about this)

or a sly touch at times

I don't think it meant anything to you

so I open the door (there is too much references to "opening doors" with Mike, I'm not even joking, if I talk about it now this post will be too long)

It's the 'friend' that I'd left in the hallway

so I found out your reason for the phone calls and smiles

and it hurts and I'm lonely (MIKE???)

and I should never have tried

and I missed you tonight

So it's time to leave (smalltown boy theory is bound to happen guys what)

You see it meant everything to me

Open the Door:

come on with a gun

come on with a heart attack (YOU'RE THE HEART)

come on suicide

yeah, just like you a trap

save a blue face for me (let me remind you, "alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face")

turn around and take it off

save a new place for me

yeah, just where the flowers drop (we literally see a hill full of flowers in the last episode where Mike probably handpicked his flowers and the flowers literally drop representing milevens drop)

love that was new to you

you open up the door

I fall in love with these

I crawl out on the floor (CRAWL???? CRAWLLLLL????? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN GUYS WHAT DOES THIS MEAN HELLO SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE I'M GONNA SOB)

here's all the colors together so you can see the similarities better:

Staying/Going:

run away, turn away (smalltown boy)

Should I stay or should I go? (Should I Stay or Should I Go?)

He knows I'm gonna stay (California Dreamin')

Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay (Heroes)

So it's time to leave (Are 'Friends' Electric?)

(Bonus) You won't miss home (Tarzan Boy)

Lyrics about being alone/being bullied:

alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face (Smalltown Boy)

pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy (Smalltown Boy)

It's always tease, tease, tease (Should I Stay or Should I Go?)

where were you when I was lonesome? (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

so now I'm alone (Are 'Friends' Electric?)

(Bonus) On my own, like Tarzan boy (Tarzan Boy)

and it hurts and I'm lonely (Are 'Friends' Electric?)

Save a blue face for me (Open the Door)

Lyrics referring to time:

I'll be here 'till the end of time (Should I Stay or Should I Go?)

we could steal time just for one day (Heroes)

I don't wanna swim forever (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

(Bonus) Just a little more time is all we're asking for (Never Surrender)

Knees (??) (more religious imagry?? idk)

you're happy when I'm on my knees (Should I Stay or Should I Go?)

well, I got down on my knees (California Dreamin')

Freedom:

if you don't want me, set me free (Should I Stay or Should I Go?)

I was born to love you, and I will never be free (Always Something There To Remind Me)

Cold/Water:

I'd be safe and warm (California Dreamin')

you know the preacher likes the cold (California Dreamin')

I, I wish you could swim (Heroes)

like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim (Heroes)

locked away with freezing cold (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

I don't wanna swim the ocean (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

I don't wanna fight the tide (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

When It's Cold I'd Like To Die (When It's Cold I'd Like To Die)

It's cold outside (Are 'Friends' Electric)

(Bonus) And when the night is cold and dark (Never Surrender)

Opening doors (only two songs that I can think of, but a lot of imagry with Mike and doors in the actual series):

so I open the door (Are 'Friends' Electric)

you open up the door (Open the Door)

(interesting, because "Open the Door" plays during a scene that is about Will and his future romantic arc - "I'm not gonna fall in love." The song associated with Will says "YOU open up the door" and the song associated with Mike says "I open the door)

#music analysis 🎶 #byler #byler analysis #byler theory #stranger things analysis #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler is real #byler is canon #byler is endgame #byler nation #mike wheeler is gay #smalltown boy conspiracy

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 What We Grew in this Forsaken Place by Admiranda

💙 What We Grew in this Forsaken Place

by Admiranda

T, 27k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian is the sole cultivator stationed in Yiling Tower out in the Forsaken Battlegrounds, the loneliest post out across the jianghu. No one else in memory has ever lasted the five years of a cultivator posting, but he's determined to do it and make it out before the sheer emptiness can affect even him. His quest becomes that much easier when he rescues a snow white fox that unexpectedly appears one day, giving him the companionship and friend he so desperately longs for out here in the desolate wastes. The mystery of just who this giant, white fox is and how he ended out here in the first place is a secondary concern to the joy of finally having someone at his side.

Kay's comments: I absolutely adore this story, it's everything I ever wanted! Modern AU with cultivation and Wei Wuxian who is on watchtower duty in the Burial Mounds, where he lives an isolated life as a researcher and well, watcher, of the Burial Mounds, at least until one day, a horde of Fierce Corpses chases a wounded fox to his watchtower, who soon becomes his new companion! I absolutely adore the story-telling of this fic and I love how Wei Wuxian writes his reports about the situation and comments on the strange happenings of his lonesome watchtower-life. I also love that he calls his fox companion Bunny and soon adopts some real bunnies (with the intent of having his fox friend eat them) and just the general vibes of this story are impeccable. Wei Wuxian's parents live! Which I wish more people would write in modern AUs, like, why do you keep killing them? I also love the atmosphere the story built with Wei Wuxian slowly succumbing to the isolation of living like this and how the fox and later the bunnies help him out of it. And of course, there is the fox' secret idenitity and the whole mystery around that too...

Excerpt: “Dear Whoever is Responsible for Reading My Reports. The Forsaken Battlegrounds continue to be the Forsaken Battlegrounds. Resentful, festering, rotting corpses sometimes getting up and getting into big fights with each other. Considering testing their ability to dance with a few choice flute solos. Supplies are adequate for another month, although I am running low on tea. Refill on non-necessities would be appreciated. Also send extra meat in new varieties. New houseguest can't eat tofu. Discovered that the hard way. “Unexpectedly found a fox in the area. It was alive when I found it and remains alive to this day. Was quite savaged by fierce corpse pack, but is responding well to basic treatment. Additional supply requests to continue caring for unexpected companion: fresh bandages, needle, thread, salve. Three queen sized fluffy blankets. Basket fitting these dimensions: 48-48-6 with a dip so that it can climb in and out easily. Hind leg is badly broken and bitten to all hell and back, so no jumping possible. Wooden box with same dimensions and enough sand to fill it. I am not making this poor animal go outside to do its business. “Why did you never consider sending the previous cultivators a pet? Much easier to ignore everyone outside with a fox to talk to now. Strong recommendation that future cultivators who take my position adopt a cat or a rabbit or something. “Regards, Wei Wuxian, Yiling Tower Cultivator.”

pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern with magic, shapeshifters, animal transformation, fox lan wangji, secret identity, wei wuxian has a fear of dogs, genius wei wuxian, identity reveal, getting to knew each other, friends to lovers, slice of life, gardens & gardening, location: yiling, reincarnation, loneliness, isolation, research, cangse sanren and wei changze live, lan wangji loves rabbits, fanart, getting together, fluff, @ladypfenix

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #Kay's Favorite #pov wei wuxian #modern setting #modern with magic #shapeshifters #animal transformation #fox lan wangji #secret identity #wei wuxian has a fear of dogs #genius wei wuxian #identity reveal #getting to knew each other #friends to lovers #slice of life #gardens & gardening #location: yiling #reincarnation #loneliness #isolation #research #cangse sanren and wei changze live #lan wangji loves rabbits #fanart #getting together #fluff

[clovenly]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; lyrical writing prompts, hozier, part one!

001. take me to church

‘they should've worshipped her sooner’

‘every sunday's getting more bleak’

‘the only heaven i'll be sent to, is when i'm alone with you’

‘but i love it’

‘i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies’

‘I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife’

‘offer me that deathless death’

‘oh good god, let me give you my life’

‘my lover's the sunlight’

‘that's a fine looking high horse’

‘there is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin’

002. jackie and wilson

‘so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes’

‘no better version of me i could pretend to be tonight’

‘laughing away through my feeble disguise’

‘no other version of me i would rather be tonight’

‘lord, she found me just in time’

‘i need to be youthfully felt 'cause, god, i never felt young’

‘she's gonna save me’

‘soothe me daily’

‘she wouldn't care’

‘every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside’

‘we'd sit back and watch the world go by’

‘happy to lie back watch it burn and rust’

‘we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us’

003. someone new

‘don't take this the wrong way’

‘you knew who I was, with every step that i ran to you’

‘would things be easier if there was a right way?’

‘honey there is no right way’

‘somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through’

‘the dark caress of someone else’

‘i guess any thrill will do’

‘and my heart's already sinned’

‘how pure, how sweet a love, aretha, that you would pray for him?’

004. to be alone

‘all i've ever done is hide’

‘kill the lights and kiss my eyes’

‘i feel like a person for a moment of my life’

‘but you don't know what hell you put me through’

‘to feel your weight in arms i'd never use’

‘it feels good, girl, it feels good’

‘oh, to be alone with you’

‘there are questions i can't ask’

‘now at last the worst is over’

‘honey, we should run away, oh, someday’

‘but i don't know what else that i would do, than try to kiss the skin that crawls from you’

005. from eden

‘there's something tragic about you’

‘something so magic about you’

‘there's something lonesome about you’

‘something so wholesome about you’

‘get closer to me’

‘who cares?’

‘no time for me’

‘i slithered here from eden, just to sit outside your door’

‘where to begin?

‘there's something broken about this’

‘but I might be hoping about this’

‘oh, what a sin’

#writing prompt #lyrical writing prompts #dialogue prompts #music prompts #angst prompts #angst prompt #fluff prompts #fluff prompt #hurt/comfort prompts #hurt/comfort prompt #hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier songs #hozier song #hozier song lyrics #lyrics as prompts #─── clove writes

[edensrose]

─────── .°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ day eight : flight

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖   manwë ⠀〳 námo⠀  ❜࿔ 

· ⊰ synopsis. whilst flying through the airs in need of a break, námo is pleasantly surprised by the eagle that joins him

· ⊰ notes. this event should have been called a manwë event with how much I'm writing for him — not that I mind of course <3

‘Flying all by your lonesome, little raven?’

Upon hearing the familiar voice ring through his ears, Námo rears his presently ebony-feathered head and beholds the mighty wingspan above him. So, that is where the rays of light went. . . they were blocked out by none other than His Majesty.

White, elegant feathers flap through the skies. Twinkling yet slitted sapphire eyes peer at his fellow Vala who also takes the form of a winds' creature. The two of them soar through the skies — one noticeably smaller than the other, yet majestic in every right. A contrast of colours that flutter through the air.

'Have you been stalking me, Your Majesty?'

Námo hears a chime in Manwë's fëa, as though the king had laughed at his little tease. The great white eagle lowers himself so that he is flying side-by-side with his lover.

'Is it so wrong of me to crave my dear doomsman? I heard your song in my skies. How could I turn down the opportunity to soar with you?'

If Námo could, he might have smiled. Instead, to show his appreciation he turns directory and flies a few circles around the larger bird. Brushing their feathers together and nuzzling their soft heads.

'How about we retire to your halls? I would much rather see your true form.' Námo offers, only to receive another chuckle through his head which causes his heart to flutter in the slightest.

'Is someone calling me pretty?'

Námo nearly forgets how to fly. His wings stiffen and he falls a few inches before quickly flapping his wings in panic and regaining his composure. He shoots his head in Manwë's direction, cursing his beady raven eyes that can hardly produce his typical icy glare.

'How about we land? You shall receive a pinch for that one.'

Another laugh as Manwë nuzzles his head against his lover's before agreeing. 'As you wish, my darling.' While Námo might not see it in this form, he can feel Manwë's smile in the air.

And so the two love birds soar through the skies. Dancing through the winds and fluttering amongst each other as they return to Ilmarin's Halls.

· ⊰ masterlist. 

· ⊰ tip jar. 

· ⊰ get tagged for my writing. @cilil @discerningduck @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @wandererindreams @stormchaser819

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊ #manwë #manwe sulimo #manwë súlimo #námo #namo mandos #namo #calamórë #calamore #manwë / námo #manwë x námo #manwe x namo #tolkien #the silmarillion #ainur #valar #athelas drabble challenge #athelasdrabblechallenge #drabbles #writing

[sodas]

Garlemald Alone (from ‘The Collected Works of Cantillius: Vol. II: 1570 6AE — 8 7AE’)

—An excerpt from the works of Garlean poet Catilina Cantillius, who among his other works and accomplishments wrote on his experiences during the fall of imperial Garlemald.—

He had the darkness draped about him Like the night sky was a mantle, The lack of light a dressing gown; the dim Whisper of a candle Taunting the eye to find it in the window of a woman’s room As she lay abed, warm and waiting for her groom. I saw him across a clearing. My fellows were ahead. I turned my face and saw the form— The man draped in darkness—the lonely bride abed— The candlelight upon the bride, her colors warm— Though Night’s black be rich and enduring as blood, Where he crouched was as where the Sun stood. I lagged behind my company For the sake of staring at the Sun And tasting, on bile’s tide, the fee: Revulsion and humility to see undone The Laws of Nature: the Sun’s repose, An undressed bride, a cloaked man… and our prince, alone. Better (to myself I thought) Were he dead; had our prince fallen For love of us—if he had fought What wickedness he was, yet would we hold our prince within, Bearing his body, our embrace, That with his forefathers we might let him rest in grace. Instead, he was stooped before me, thence Yalms apart; between my beating heart and his Lay naught but the forest floor—pretense For neither love nor loathing came from the derelict Shape of man worn by this beast— An animal’s inhabitance of man’s conceit. ’Twas of no use nor joy to eat me, the predator declared With the stillness of his body: he did not advance Nor hang his head nor grimace so that his teeth were bared He showed me neither shame nor anger: he but glanced With his eyes that suited not a lonesome man in snowy waste But were as little summer skies—he glanced at my face. From well ahead, my comrades called, and the prince smiled. I saw the bride, the candlelight, the beast all wild. Dully gleamed, from light on snow, a pendant round his neck; Gilded from the womb, he wore such beauty That he could not shed the palace he had fled, Yet the odd slope of his smile claimed, unduly, That he saw me among the richest men whom he had known— He our prince dissatisfied with the glory of his throne! He spoke to me. His voice was low To the ground, creeping on hunter’s feet Languid in the way of syrup, or an animal that knows It’s dying. “Your friends,” he said, “wish to meet With you.” Hence the Laws of Nature again trembled below His weight: he was the candlelight; he was a glimpse Through a bedroom window; the sun in darkness, an eclipse; He was shrouded in a mantle wrought from immaterial; He was divested and in waiting; he grieved an empty marriage bed. He was his own weight in tarnished gold, a bell For bellowing death’s toll; his line was dead Though he yet lived; his colors stayed warm in the cold. In his contradiction, he was a horror to behold. Inhumanity was not Wherein the prince’s horrors lay— The man, not the animal, was caught In contradiction I would say Touches all men, leaves none unscathed— With our survival only paved By feet aplenty: fellowship, Brothers-in-arms, the arms of our lovers, The company we keep, The builders, the bakers, our rivals and our mothers Those to whom we hurry; those for whom we wait —Thus did I realize the prince’s fate. I understood. Our prince was going to die all by himself. I, called by my comrades, would die with love—to the prince, in wealth. ’Twas madness then, thought I as I Took one step back and looked to see If he would spring—was it the animal alive In him that watched my flight proceed? But as I stood in the summer of his eyes, We were two men, for a breath, wearing no other guise But a waning man, isolate, in atrophy, Lost where his contradictions led him—and me. Toward another comrade’s call I turned. The prince’s fair Face did not change when I left without him. I looked back once. He stayed the same. Swallowing all but his gold hair, He had the darkness draped about him.

#ffxiv #ff14 #zenos viator galvus #zenos yae galvus #zenos galvus #fic tag #9000th repost of this but i wanted a copy of it just HERE ON ITS OWN!! lmao

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Story tags & warnings: Inspired by Castlevania, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, POV Original Character, 'Happy Ending I Promise', Adventure, Post-Castlevania Season III, Eventual Smut, POV Alucard, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Bloodlust, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Canon Relationship, Imprisonment, Disillusionment, Paranoia, Not Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Emotional Sex, Drunken Confessions, Guilt, Mental Anguish, Heavy Angst, Monsters, Dark Romanticism, Personal interpretation of post-season III Alucard

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep? Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses - Ovid

AN: You're being cursed with my first ever Alucard longfic from 2020. Not even rewritten.

I. Refuge

He looked outside the wide arching window, where heavy rain fell upon the world on a cold afternoon. This was the fourth day in a row when the even thrumming persisted against the silent walls of the castle. But then, at least my tomb is dry inside, he thought wryly. The door to the chamber opened with a dust trodden creaking to allow its master passage.

He paced through one of many endless hallways of the ancient structure with his elegant gait, one hand reaching behind his neck. Long fingers halfheartedly glided through fair, unbound hair. He descended the wide set of stairs, lost in thoughts of all and nothing, his bright golden eyes dimmed as he recalled meandering streams of forgotten times.

As ever, his gaze strayed to the wide painting adorning the wall to his right, depicting two figures. Blue eyes filled with purpose and kindness stared back at him; lately it seemed they were alive. He watched the other figure immortalized on canvas. Menacing but contained, it was yet one of the rare, if not sole existing representation of his father void of his renowned merciless and sullen might. He appeared...

Almost human. He lowered his eyes in a frown.

“Adrian! Adrian stop your fleeing this instant!” her voice still rang through the corridors of his mind, accompanied by her light scent of lavender and rosemary.

Caring arms wound around him. “I know you are loath to attend when the sun is so bright outside, but your lessons are not to be trifled with,” the fair-haired woman told the vision of her bright son, whose childlike face puckered in exasperated annoyance.

The images faded to nothing before him, leaving him in the solitary company of his half-human heart and its weak, endless beating.

His mother had always trusted them more than was perhaps wise. Now, after having barely survived an attempt to his own life at their hands, he was beginning to understand the determination of his father, if only an iota. He would never, and could never accept the unfathomable way in which his infamous father Vlad Dracula Ţepeş had chosen to dull his pain. Attempting to wipe humanity off the face of the earth as his last death cry had been a frightening goal even to his generals - and an achievable one at that, which made it all the more necessary to be thwarted.

Necessary. It was necessary.

How interesting that you feel the need to keep telling yourself that, an antagonizing thought hit him with the force of a physical blow. It spanned from a different corner of his mind, one come alive only after the harrowing event of a past not far removed. He drowned in the silence of the vast hall, where sparsely lit torches shadowed broken furniture and the echoes of a great and lavish legacy; memory returned him to the recent past. When he thought he’d found a compress to the aching void left behind by the departure of the Speaker and the Hunter. When he thought he was nurturing the flicker of humanity that drove a part of himself. But he’d mistaken betrayal for sincere interest and companionship, and with it came proof that humanity was burdened with it.

Their corpses may have rotted away by now, he was not sure. He had not gone outside ever since. Not for work, not for gathering or tending gardens or even delving into the rich knowledge of the Belmont vault he guarded, close to the castle of the father he felled. Not for feeding like the vampire kin of his father would. But lately, he found the endless struggle for power within leaning more towards his vampiric side rather than the soft, carefully crafted steadfastness inherited from his human mother.

The downpour continued outside. The sound of his steps his only company, the tall figure changed his direction in the great and empty abode, seeking the library. Loneliness had ever been his mate, but now with the disillusion of recent events, where he had been forced to end two beings he’d cared for, well, it seemed seclusion would be his forever tenant. And he had cared for them, and would have imparted with the humans all his knowledge in time. They came knocking at his door in search of a master, after all. He had done his part, though perhaps failing to account for the impatience defining human race as a whole. And failing to recognize its ruthless desperation owed to the brief flames which were human lives. Yes, he had stalled. And yes, he’d grown accustomed to their presence. Mistakes to learn from. 

Forced by circumstance, he ended their lives. The wound was still there, yet raw and seeping. And even as he speared their bodies through and hung them before his gates, he considered retrieving them afterwards for proper burial.

But then he had not.

Let them stand guard to my secrets, as was their wont. Let the others see. Fear was what they knew best, and what drove them. And it will drive them away from here. Was not living death endured better in solitude?

He walked instead of using his lightning fast shifts in space, his form weakened from the intentional renouncing of sustenance. Even blood would do, though he denounced the taste of it to the heavens.

Having descended the stairs and into the grand entry hall, just as he was about to take a left towards the library, there was a desperate and insistent rapping at the great doors of the castle. His movements turned stealthy in the blink of an eye, and the following second found him at the other end of the hall. The strikes had ceased and instead, the tall doors slowly opened. He rescinded locking them at all since setting the bodies of the young warriors Taka and Sumi outside. And truth be told... did he even need or want protection? His thought was severed by the immediate assail on his senses; the incensed and fearful scent of warm, human blood.

Who on earth would dare go past the horrors at the gate to enter here?

She ran. She ran as fast as her feet took her, through wood and fen, stumbling over gnarled limbs and underbrush protruding from the forest bed. Branches and tree boughs scraped her cheeks. Leaves caught in her pitch black hair as the woman stumbled in her flight, wary of the trampling hooves drawing nigh, gaining on her. It had been unwise to linger, most unwise indeed. But now here she was, losing ground the closer she heard the desperate whinnying of horses.

“Get back here you damned slut!” one was calling with ire in his bloodshot eyes, a heavily bearded man in robes of black and gold.

The woman was on her last remaining strength, and she faltered, near falling to her knees. And her eyes were deceiving her, as ahead materialized the walls and gates of an abode. No... that was no mirage or a fancy of the mind. The gates did exist! The great doors were indeed physical, and closer with each beat of time. She lunged forward with renewed hope, the primal will to survive taking precedence and fueling her desperate flee with a burst of strength. Soon the trees were sparser, and she reached a clearing of sorts, bolting straight towards the heavy metallic doors.

Were those—

Her heart dropped to her feet as the escapee gaped, wide eyed, at the two bodies impaled before the entrance to the castle. The woman turned to look behind her, where the riders pursuing her so fervently had skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing. Their eyes were set on the same hanging, rotting corpses, the wide archways and tall towers of the ominously silent building. Their faces then focused on her, and hatred shone bright and dark through their eyes. They hurled insults and threats as far as the wind took them, but seemed to dare go no further.

The young woman wavered, and straightening her back, pulled the tattered cloak about her shoulders. She walked closer on hesitating steps, the faint scent of decay assailing her senses.

She looked back to the riders. They were still observing her, determined, waiting to see what she would do. If she fled back to the forest, she was theirs. The woman narrowed her eyes at them before looking back to the silent entrance.

The only way, Ravenna. Squaring her shoulders and steeling the shivering of her wearied and buckling feet, she rushed straight to the castle doors, striking at them until her fists hurt. When no answer came, she looked back to her pursuers, only to see them slowly approaching from the other side of the clearing.

Desperation taking hold, the woman groaned and with one last shred of an attempt she halfheartedly beat at the doors. “Please!” she cried.

Nothing.

Just as all hope failed her, there was a sharp noise of metal sliding upon metal from the inside, and a ghastly wail; the doors opened.

NEXT

#alucard x oc #ruiniel:fanfiction #prickly thorns tender roses #has my 2020 style rip

[winterzsurprise]

Loving You Was A Losing Game || Karl Jacobs

Pairing: c!Karl x Gender-Neutral! Reader (It's in the past), c!Quackity x Reader x c!Sapnap

Summary: In all of the universes he has visited, why is the one where you lived peacefully have to be you as his best friends' fiance?

Tags: Universe-traveller! Karl, Coffee Shop Manager!Quackity, Nurse! Sapnap (not specified tho), Polyamorous established relationship, Angst, Us against the world but the world won trope.

Words: 736

Was inspired by the shit ton of Dr. Strange and Christine edits floating around my Tiktok fyp. Might open request soon.

Like always, feel free to give me constructive criticism since I want to better my writing. Other than that, enjoy!

----------

The doorbell chimed, then came the tinkles that didn’t come from the hanging ornament above the entrance but from someone’s lips that chattered off to their companion.

It was incredible that the aching dullness of his heart stuttered in its rhythm upon hearing your honeyed voice pierce through the calm melody playing on the speaking that drowned the space in its tunes.

“Darling!”

When you smiled, the winter snow that covered his heart thawed to make way for the patches of flowers that bloomed in his chest that withered as fast as it came.

Because there’s no one you could call darling other than the other man behind the counter.

“Mi amor, mi corazon, are you guys going to work already?”

The café branch manager, Quackity, answered as he crossed the distance between the backrooms and the counter to reach over and hug you tight before turning to your companion.

It was shitty of him to forget that there’s another person involved.

But can you blame him? Out of all the universes he had visited...

“Can I get a large coffee with two bagels?”

He didn’t even notice you move in front of him, shocking him back from his thoughts that would’ve dragged him down into an endless void he so desperately tried to erase.

Your voice was the incarnation of every sweet thing that exists in the world. Your kind eyes that glanced at him for a mere second held every star he hand-picked out from the sky from every other universe he has visited.

It was lovely and absolutely stunning, but also hurtful.

Because unlike the other universes he travelled to just to meet you once more, he dared to come to this reality, where your eyes only glimmered whenever you looked at them.

“Sure, can I get this gentleman anything?”

Shaggy pinecone brown hair hidden under the obsidian VANS cap, a fresh bandaid pressed across the bridge of his nose and a fair length of peach fuzz on his jaw and chin. 

Fire smoldered deep within his guts when his green eyes practically dribbled in adoration while staring at your ever enthusiastic form beside him 

“Nah man, I’m good. I already ate before I left.”

“What name do I put on your cups?”

“Y/N, then he’ll go with—”

“Best Fiance.”

“Put Sapnap please.”

Karl let a smile breakthrough his impassive face, it was ridiculous.

When he started jumping from one universe to another with the same desperation of a grieving lover who wasn’t able to say his goodbyes properly, he saw miscellaneous realities where you took form in miscellaneous ways.

A human, an alien with multiple limbs, a dog, a tailless cat, a mermaid, hell, even a rat.

Even with the odd science of those universes, he stayed beside you. But with every failure, every jump that exhausted his body, mind and soul, he saw the horrors of the world and the cruelty of fate.

“You take proper care of them, alright man? I have some inventory arrangements to do.”

With a pat on the back, the man waved his beloved goodbye before running back to the door behind them.

Out of all millions of worlds and dimensions, your lives never dragged on for long. Your wishes of exchanging the bustling city into a lonesome yet happy lifestyle in a cabin in the woods were never fulfilled.

To see you unable to achieve your dreams crushed his soul, much more when he realises that there is no timeline out there where he’s someone you could call yours.

“I’ll call you guys when it’s done.”

You clung to Sapnap’s coat-covered arm as you moved away from the counter.

Karl has seen many horrors in his immortal life, experienced many heartbreaks from unique events that occurred in his life.

Yet nothing prepared him for the hammering ache that penetrated his heart when he caught the glimmering stones that shone around your finger. 

To be precise, two overlapping rings decorated your ring finger.

His eyes followed you both as you left his vision before letting out a shaky exhale. He didn’t even notice his hands gripping tightly on the marble counter that it turned pale with his veins bulked out.

How cruel can the fates be? How can they make a universe where you lived happily and will die with age be the only reality where you can’t be his but for his best friends?

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs angst #us against the world but the world won trope #dream smp #dream smp fics #mcyt #karl jacobs imagines #sapnap imagines #quackity imagines

[scaralvr]

hihihi myst !!! its raining rn :( i feel even colder now,, anyways i've always had this idea that never left me. so, modern au (college in the first two paragraphs) w/ scara right?

basically scaramouche and his mother ei run a flower shop together. you often visit their flower shop since it's the only (great) one in town. routinely, each few days you'd come in. pick up a few things and leave is all you do - and he feels terribly love sick. he sees you everyday, on the weekdays and weekends. why is it that you, someone he bareky knows manages to speak a proper conversation with, get him so weak?

tch, how cowardly.

is what scaramouche thinks. stupid is a thought where he feeds into his emotions, is in not? but today, he stares at the entrance. he feels impatient; he'd been zoning out ever since you came in that day. did you go out already without saying goodbye to him? have you left him alone in this lonesome store of flowers? do you not want to see him, a humiliating sight?

hey. you alright, love?

your lover has awaken - what has made him chant your name so many times in his sleep?

lol it ends there because it is very old and i am still on a writers block so i did not finsish it. maybe I'll fix it soon idk. lowkey wanna see florist scara be written well tho, since what's here is how much he likes u lol (ps third "paragraph" is in current time, the first and second are both the past +second paragraphis in scaras pov. i think this was wrote from like july-september, when i was "in love" 💀) also, im just dumping old works for u to see since the peak of my writing might just be that scara prompt i wrote that i mentioned last time 🤕🤕🤕 -still with you anon

AWW WAIT THIS CONCEPT IS SO CUTE!!1!11 headcanon that scara is so good at tending to plants🤭🤭 AND THE DREAMMMM OMG THE DREAMM this is so adorable i love this

#(≧ω≦) : myst's fanmail !! #(๑˘︶˘๑) : mysterious mysties !! #mystnons : still with you #thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece #(⌒▽⌒)☆ : myst's library !! #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin imagines #genshin imagine #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfictions #scaramouche #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche fanfiction #scaramouche fanfic

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Reiji Maniac [02]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the entrance hall of Eden

Yui: ( I wonder what Reiji-san is up to when he’s by himself? )

( ...Trying to follow him to find out was a good idea and all, but I completely lost sight of him... )

( I swear he was walking right in front of me mere seconds ago, so where could he have gone...? )

???: What is this about?

Yui: Eh!?

Reiji: It is highly distracting to have you sneak around behind my back. 

Yui: ( When did he get behind me...? )

Reiji: Answer my question. I knew you were trailing me from the very beginning. 

Yui: ( Busted... )

...Yes. 

Reiji: Good grief...Do you have no manners at all? 

Yui: I’m sorry...

Reiji: Haah...So, why were you following me? 

Yui: Um...

Reiji: Answer me. 

Yui: Well...I felt a little lonely...

Reiji: ーー ...I see.

Then, would you like to join me? 

Yui: Eh? ...Can I?

Reiji: Yes, go ahead.

Yui: ( He’s acting normal. Seems like I was just overthinking things. )

ー The scene shifts to the pharmaceutical department

Yui: Pardon the intrusion...

( It’s so quiet in here. There’s many things I’ve never seen before. )

Reiji: If it’s not too much trouble, could you help me organize these shelves? 

Yui: Of course!

Reiji: Well then...You can start with that shelf over there and rearrange all books according to this list.

*Flip*

Yui: ( Wow, that’s a lot of books... )

Reiji: While I did consider putting my Familiars in charge of this task, it would be highly unfortunate if any of these valuable writings were to be lost.

I’m sure that will not happen when I leave this up to you, correct?

Yui: Y-Yes! I will try my best! But...

( However, if I have to do this all on my own, I’m honestly not sure how long it’ll take. )

Selection

→ Show reluctance (S)

Yui: Um...By when should I get it done? 

Reiji: There is no specific time limit. ...I do not demand speed from those who do not possess any magical abilities such as yourself. 

Yui: I see...

Reiji: Therefore, please work carefully so you do not mess up. 

Yui: Yes. 

Reiji: ...You must not overestimate yourself. 

→ Accept without questioning (M)

Reiji: ...’But’?

Yui: No, it’s nothing. Anyway, I’ll get to it. 

Reiji: ...

Yui: ( Huh? I wonder why he seems conflicted? )

Reiji: Whether it’s sneakily following someone or swallowing one’s words...Your actions truly reflect those of a human. 

Yui: Eh...?

Reiji: ...It’s nothing. 

Yui: ( Eh? But... )

Reiji: Well then, I have other business to attend to, so I will excuse myself now. 

Yui: Okay.

ー Reiji walks to the door

Reiji: ...Aah, I forgot to mention this. 

It would be careless to leave the door open. 

So I will use magic to lock it from the outside. 

Yui: Eh? Then, Iーー 

Reiji: You do not need to leave until you are done with your task, do you? 

I will make sure the Familiars bring you food when required, so no need to worry about that. 

No complaints, I assume? 

Yui: ( I offered to do it myself so...I guess I can’t complain now. )

Nope. Have a safe trip. 

Reiji: ...

ー Reiji leaves the room

Yui: ( He left... )

( Honestly, I only feel even more lonesome being left in this unwelcoming room all by myself. )

...But I’ll try my hardest. 

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Um, next up is...

*Flip*

Yui: ( I wonder how much time has passed ever since...? )

( Reiji-san has not showed himself even once. )

( I don’t want to think this way but... )

( He might have entrusted me with this task to have an excuse to lock me up in here. )

...

Ah!

ー Some of the books fall down

Yui: ( Seems like I’ve run out of concentration. ...I should take a short nap. )

ー She closes her eyes

Yui: ...

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Nn...

ー Yui wakes up again

Yui: ( My body feels sore...I mean, it only makes sense since I had to sleep while sitting down...Hm? )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( I’ve got a blanket on me. Somebody must have...! )

( The door has been locked with magic...So it can only be one person, right? )

( I wish Reiji-san would have reached out to me. )

( ...It feels warm. I wonder why his kindness still lingers? )

( When he does it, I only miss him even more. )

...

( I’m lonely...Reiji-san. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lereijimaniac2

[wastelandofdreams]

Noel's (and Liam's) lyrics mentioning "crime" "sin" or something like that

I always find the sense of guilt or the "it's a crime" vibe (it's literally the title of a demo lol) in some of the oasis and NGHFB songs intriguing. It seems to be a repeating theme in noel's songwriting, just like the "runing away from the small town" and "stars and universe" themes. And I'd like to put them together.

My Sister Lover

Faith in the lord is something I could never have

Faith in my sister is gonna set me free

Faith in the lord is something I will never have

'Cause the lord I know don't got no faith in me

You're my lover

I'm your brother

You're my lover

I'm your brother

If We Shadows (Demo)

There are things calling my mind

Nobody knows what's wrong

To me and my brother

Many things are calling inside

Nobody knows how long

Except me and my brother

And everything I say to you

But I don't care why you do what you do

And everything that are wrong

Nobody knows what's wrong

Nobody knows what's wrong

'Til we find a way

'Cause if we shadows are

All the things we say we are

If we shadows are

To move in time with the things that we find

In the shadows are

Our lives just going round

And I feel no shame at all

No I feel no shame at all

(I really love how Noel literally wrote "me and my brother" in the lyrics. It's so honest and it allows you to see through his vulnerability.)

Untitled (Demo)

Only for the young is the dreams you might not have

And only for the young is the things we won’t remember

And long ago there was things in the past

And they never would be wrong

And for the young is the things we might remember

Sitting here I’m waiting

A cause without a name

Sitting here I’m waiting

And I will feel

And down I will kneel

'Cause you were the one I never know

Living in sin

Living within

Is all the things I’ll never know

It's A Crime (demo version of Let There Be Love)

if i ever knew

that all the thing's i've thought

are coming right back to you

but everybody thinks that it's a crime

it never makes you feel ashamed

you sit around and you sold

and you're passing the blame

but everybody knows

yeah everybody knows

everybody knows that it's a crime

it's a crime

it's a crime

it's a crime

Guess God Thinks I'm Abel (written by Liam)

I could be your lover

You could be all mine

We'd go on forever

'Til the end of time

You could be my best friend

Stay up all night long

You could be my railroad

We'd go on and on

Lets get along

There's nothing here to do

Lets go find a rainbow

I could be wrong but what am I to do

Guess God thinks I'm Abel

You could be my enemy

I guess there's still time

I get round to loving you

Is that such a crime?

If Love Is The Law

Here am I

I’m high up on a ledge

I’m standing on the edge of night

In a lonesome town

Where love has been and gone

I’m waiting for the storm to come back

And take me down

The things I left unsaid

Were lying on the bed

Right next to the face you wore

When you left me on my one

Now I’ve up here on my own

And I must say…

I didn’t come here to make up your mind

I do believe that you were wasting my time

There’s no more tears left to cry myself blind

If love is the law

Then this is a crime

And I'm gonna add If I Had A Gun to the list when I can confirm the line actually reads "it's all my sin" in the demo-version...

#lyrics #gallaghercest #gcest

[wufflesvetinari]

just for the hell of it here is a new year’s day list of my favorite books i read this year. i didn’t read nearly as much as i wanted to but i DID read a good proportion of hard or classic SFF, which has to count for something. variety, maybe.

Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, James Tiptree, Jr. - this is a scifi short story collection that repeatedly punched me in the gut and continues to haunt me with weird nihilistic alien sex concepts as metaphor for the human condition. Tiptree was a female science fiction writer active in the 60s-80s, writing under a male penname. themes included gender, apocalypse through human error, biological-drives-as-cosmic-horror, and Weird Alien Sex Stuff. all of this is wrapped up in gorgeous prose and a sense that she knew something about the future you really didn’t want her to be right about. (also the stuff she pulled in terms of writing craft is just unhinged, really admire it)

Blindsight, Peter Watts - okay this...admittedly is another extremely bleak book about biological-drives-as-cosmic-horror and apocalypse through human error. but i promise it’s different. it’s like Weird Human Neuroscience + Unknowable Aliens and also there are vampires for some reason, but they are SCIENCE vampires who have a glitch in their brain when they see right angles (crucifixes). look i...can’t describe blindsight. read it and get depressed with me.

Uprooted, Naomi Novik - ok, for something completely different, this has such a classic “fantasy book i loved in middle school” vibe but it’s good. there’s a young woman in a small village who gets dragged into magic beyond her understanding but SURPRISE! turns out she is also magic and you can’t stop her from doing whatever the fuck she wants. consists of Prissy Love Interest constantly saying “no, what you are proposing is physically impossible” and her just doing it and him becoming increasingly distressed because that’s not how any of this should work, jesus. just a very cozy power fantasy with some fun magic system stuff imo

A Night in the Lonesome October, Roger Zelazny. i bounced hard off his chronicles of amber when i was younger but this book is...how do i describe this book. this book is cozy and creepy halloween fun. in the background, various stock characters (frankenstein, dracula, a witch, the wolfman, etc) are playing a polite but intricate game of shifting alliances and power that will allow them to either shepherd lovecraftian gods into this world or keep them out. BUT the book is told entirely from the POV of their animal familiars, who are doing their own wheeling and dealing with each other. it’s a quick read and a surprisingly nice one, with characters acknowledging that they might end up killing each other but it’s nothing personal and everyone admires each other lol. 

...oh fuck that’s right i read The Dispossessed this year. um...ok. this was a REALLY good book but it’s ursula le guin so that is obvious and i should’ve read it way sooner. it blows most other things out of the water. read the dispossessed for a really thoughtful exploration of society-wide implementation of principled anarchy and how that might work and/or not work. there’s this really bittersweet proposition that the unifying human experience is pain, but in a way that is more comforting than nihilistic. 

Misc:

for short fiction, i LOVED this baroque-styled cosmic fantasy (“The Twenty-Second Lover of House Rousseau”) about a courtesan-bot gaining self-awareness and taking cathartic revenge. what sets this one apart is the voice imo

for fanfic, i liked “Macushla” by Hinn_Raven, an AU where Stephanie Brown gets picked up by the League of Assassins at a young age and is assigned as Damian’s bodyguard

for tv, i found The Peripheral extremely fun character-wise and stylish to look upon, a sort of post-William Gibson William Gibson

ah shit, i think Our Flag Means Death came out in 2022 as well. wow!!

#oh my god there's so few books on my goodreads shelves for this year sob #i did NOT read many comics. trying to get back on the horse now #books

[septembersghost]

this might be a big ask so it's okay if you can't answer it, but I was wondering if you could help me narrow down some old music to listen to, esp Frank Sinatra and Elvis since I think you have knowledge/reference with both of them? I'm interested in exploring things but there's A LOT and idk where to begin!

i love that you asked this, it's well-established that nothing in the world makes me happier than recommending/sharing music that is special to me, of any kind and from any time! it definitely is a LOT of content to take in, and hard to sort where to look because there's not only so much work across their catalogs, there are also all the compilation albums. if you have apple music, a simpler way to start is the essentials playlists, they don't include everything that i would myself, but they're good overviews! (ep, fs). and i'll use spotify links on these for you in case you have that instead <3

there are such a vast amount of individual songs that it's difficult to choose exactly where to point you!

with frank, first of all, nice 'n' easy is one of my favorite albums of all-time. like it's at the top of my list with red and rumours for Albums Needed to Understand Me. i think the best overview of his earlier years (when he was signed to capitol records, before he formed his own label, reprise), is this one. songs for swingin' lovers, in the wee small hours, and come fly with me are also fabulous. ring-a-ding-ding is so much fun. for an overview of his later career and the reprise years, nothing but the best has some great songs!

with elvis, i am actually doing whole album explorations myself! i've basically just always had a bunch of hits in my collection rather than full records. and my fave songs feel so obvious (can't help falling in love, love me tender, suspicious minds, fever, always on my mind, a little less conversation, i'm coming home, there's always me, it's now or never, that's all right, are you lonesome tonight, baby let's play house, surrender, burning love, that's all right...). the album if i can dream that they remastered/recorded with the royal philharmonic is absolutely gorgeous. this one is a collection of #1's, there's the recording of the '68 comeback special, something for everybody and from elvis in memphis are great.

i'd also highly recommend looking into ella fitzgerald if you like frank's music, because she's wonderful too. the industry was structured differently then - i used to have a wider breadth of knowledge that i could tell you about all of this, it's faded out of my head over the years, but you'll find many of the same songs recorded by different artists because songwriting and vocalists weren't quite as personally interconnected as they are now, and popular music was very much comprised of the songbook standards, so artists would essentially license songs from a given writer and put their own spin on them, rather than all releasing their own individual things. (this is notable, for example, with elvis and hound dog, which often is erroneously criticized. big mama thornton did record her rendition first, but the song was created by and belonged to two jewish songwriters, jerry leiber and mike stoller. it had already been covered multiple times (including by a white vocal group, which was how he encountered it initially) when elvis heard it, liked it, and chose to adapt/record it. (i searched around for info for you and there's more informed elaboration on that here!) a rich legacy of american music from the earlier crooners and jazz artists lies with jewish composers, both on radio and on broadway (and at the time, those often overlapped), so you'll find many of the singers recorded gershwin, irving berlin, lorenz hart, rodgers and hammerstein, sammy cahn, frank loesser, etc. and then there were other prominent writers like the incomparable cole porter (who has been covered sensationally by lady gaga and tony bennett!), johnny mercer, etc. then elvis was very inspired by and had immense respect for black artists/writers, r&b and gospel, so you get an infusion of all of those backgrounds and influences. (frank and elvis were both very openly supportive of artists of color around them and tried to help open doors, as marilyn famously did for ella as well. it was such a complex time, and i think it's important to keep those aspects in mind and remember the many voices and legacies that were playing their parts!) both of those men (and bing crosby, who helped pioneer the single, among other things), and their many contemporaries, transformed music as a whole, and that still resonates powerfully to this day, even in places where we might not realize it.

i hope this helps a little! 💗 the best thing you can do, honestly, is just dive in and explore, you're guaranteed to find gems and specific songs you love, and there's so much to spend time with and to enjoy.

#adore you for asking this 😘 #anonymous #letterbox #frank sinatra #elvis presley #music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent #i was a dreamer