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stargirlrchive · 24 days

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INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!

pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader

notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3

cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.

It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.

Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.

You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.

Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.

They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.

Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”

“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.

Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.

You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.

Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.

Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyra, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.

The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.

Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”

Feyra sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.

“Of course it is, but you should join us.”

You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.

“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.

Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.

During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.

When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.

How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?

Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.

But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.

You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.

Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.

Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.

You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.

Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.

You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.

Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.

You would never forgive yourself.

Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.

Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.

Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”

Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”

He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.

The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.

But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”

Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.

The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”

You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.

You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.

Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?

You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.

So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.

Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.

In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.

It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.

The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.

You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”

He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.

Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.

“Send me away.”

He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyra’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”

Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.

You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.

“Cassian-what are you doing here?”

You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”

Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.

“In-in the gardens.”

His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.

Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.

Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”

“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”

And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”

Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”

“Lucky her.”

He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.

“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.

“What’s with the full name?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”

A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.

That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.

You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.

His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”

You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”

And this time he didn’t stop you.

Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.

You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.

You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.

The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”

“You need to focus.”

A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”

“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”

At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”

Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”

You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.

You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.

With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.

Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.

His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”

You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”

Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.

It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.

Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.

“They say they’re sorry.”

Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”

They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.

A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.

The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”

Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”

He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.

Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.

You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.

No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.

He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.

“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”

His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.

You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.

Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.

“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.

Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.

Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.

In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.

His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.

He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyra. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.

It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.

His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.

Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.

The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.

And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.

Resigned, he returned home.

Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.

Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.

He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.

The mother could be so cruel.

He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.

His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.

He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.

Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.

“Don’t do this, Cassian.”

His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.

“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.

“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.

“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”

There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.

Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”

His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.

You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”

Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”

“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”

You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”

You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”

#cassian #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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yourlocaltrashpandaa · 1 year

Text

Nostalgia Moments

various chrs. x pregnant!wife!reader

xiao, kaeya, diluc, & gorou

contains: fluff, established relationships, pregnancy, a slight bit of angst

Context: a wife and a growing family, how did they get to this point?

A/n: late night ideas. Don’t mind the misspells lol. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 w/ different genshin men

Additional Details:

H/c = hair color

E/c = eye color

D/c = daughter’s name

S/n = son’s name

<=========>

Xiao

A cool breeze made its way through Liyue as Xiao was perched on the railing on upper balcony of the Wangshu Inn. Looking out into the vast landscapes of Liyue was nothing new to Xiao as he’s been around protecting Liyue for centuries now. He let the wind blow through his hair. The adeptus looked down at his left hand as he twisted his wedding band back and forth on his finger.

He smiled to himself though he never thought that he would be married. Or get so close to someone whatsoever but that all changed when he met the Traveler, Aether and his two companions, Paimon and you. Xiao thought you were just a simple mortal though he’s seen your power.

You’ve traveled countless worlds before you came here and your appearance hasn’t changed much over the years you’ve been married, well maybe now that’s not necessarily true.

“Xiao?” The sound of your voice caught his attention as he turned to see you, in flowy dress, your hair blew in your face because of the wind then you brushed it back so you can see your loving husband.

“Y/n,” Xiao hopped off the balcony railing as he made his way over to you. “Why are you out of bed? You should be resting.” He said as he touched your pregnant belly.

You frowned, scoffing a bit. “Xiao, I’m pregnant not sick.” You said.

“You might as will be,” Xiao crossed his arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t put too much stress on yourself.” He said.

You rolled your eyes at your husband. “You know you have gotten more protective since I’ve became pregnant.” You said.

“More… Protective? How absurd.” Xiao scoffed.

“Really? You don’t believe me. Well, my dear husband I have you know that you’ve protective of me since we first met moreso when we got together. I’m not fragile, you know. I’m immortal remember.” You said.

“I know. I just… I care for you so much as well as our unborn child. That I, I don’t want anything to take you away.” Xiao placed a hand on your cheek, you did so to him in return.

“Oh, Xiao,” You smiled. “That reminded of one of the letters you sent to me before I came back to live in Liyue. You are quite the sap, my love.” You said, chuckling at your comment and kissed his cheek.

Xiao groaned. “Shut your mouth.” He said.

“Well, I’m hungry. I’m eating for two, you know. And I’m craving some almond tofu. How about you?” You asked Xiao with smile.

“Of course, darling.” Xiao replied with.

How’d did he get so lucky with you.

<===>

Kaeya

“Papa!” A voice of a young girl echoed through the halls of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. Her hair was H/c with a stripe of blue that stood out in her bangs. Her blue eyes went well with her light tan skin as she smiled ear to ear.

“D/n! Wait for Mommy, please!” You exclaimed a bit out of breath since you are six months pregnant with your second child and because you have to keep up with a 4 year old.

“But, Mama,” D/n whined. “I want to find Papa!” She exclaimed.

You sighed a bit. “Yes, I know.” You said.

“Oh my~! What do we have here?” That voice sounded familiar.

“Auntie Lisa!” D/n exclaimed running up to the Librarian.

You smiled seeing the older woman. “Lisa,” You walked over as you watched your child giving her a hug. “It’s been awhile. It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, hon. Looking for Kaeya I assume?” Lisa asked.

“Yes! As you can imagine, D/n has been running me ragged to see him.” You sighed out.

“Oh, you poor thing. Then, I should fetch your husband for you.” Lisa said.

“Thank you, Lisa.” You said with a smile.

“Are we going to see Papa now?” Your daughter asked.

“Yes. But, you have to be patient, D/n.” You said.

D/n smiled, grabbing your hand. “Okay, Mommy.” She said.

Minutes later, you saw your husband walking towards you with Lisa behind him and your daughter’s eyes sparkled as they widened when she saw him. Letting go of your hand, she over to Kaeya.

“Papa!” She exclaimed.

“Hey, my little flower,” Kaeya exclaimed picking her up into his arms and continued his way to you. “Hello, milady. How are you?” He asked kissing your cheek.

“I’m fine, exhausted but fine.” You said.

“Is it because of this troublemaker!” Kaeya said kissing his daughter’s cheek.

“Yes… She gets that from you, ya know.” You grumbled.

Kaeya frowned a bit. “Oh come now, you don’t actually think that.” He said.

“I do. And I hope our next child is nothing like you.” You teased.

“Oh. you wound me, Y/n!” Kaeya said, smirking as your daughter laughed at your husband’s antics.

A sigh was heard from Lisa. You didn’t know she was still hanging about. “You two still haven’t changed after all these years. Well, I have to get back to work, it was nice seeing you, Y/n.” Lisa said walking off and going back into the library.

“Bye, Auntie Lisa!” Your daughter said waving.

“She’s right, you know.” Kaeya said.

“Huh?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Since we first met, we started acting like married couple but now,” Kaeya looked at his wedding band with a smile. “We made it official.”

You flushed. “Stop talking, Kaeya. There’s children in the room.” You said.

“I love you too, milady.”

<===>

Diluc

“Father?”

Diluc looked up from his paperwork as his son, S/n opened the door to his study and walked up to his desk. The boy was no older than 7 and he looked identical to his father but he has his mother’s E/c eyes.

“Yes,” He answered. “What is it?” Diluc asked.

“When can I learn swordsmanship?” He asked.

S/n was very straightforward and blunt for a 7 year old and way too smart for his own good.

Diluc sighed. “You’re only seven. Maybe when you’re a little older.” He said.

“But that’s not what mother said.” S/n said.

That caught his attention. “What did your mother say?” He asked.

“That you could teach me now!” S/n said, looking very proud of himself with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

“Really now,” Diluc said lowly. “Is that so?

S/n flinched a bit at his father’s tone. “Ah, y-yes…” He said.

“That’s hard to believe,” Diluc said getting up from his chair. He walked away from his desk and towards the door. “Let’s go find your mother then.” He said.

S/n sighed. “Okay…” He said as he followed Diluc out of his study and to the living room.

There you sat on the couch, reading a book. You looked a bit tired yet being pregnant has taken it’s toll on you yet you weren’t prepared for what was about come next.

“Hello, darling.” Diluc’s voice took you away from your book. You looked to him and smiled that you saw S/n standing next your husband looking off to the side. You were a bit confused.

“Hello, hon. Do you need something?” You asked.

“Well, your son here told me that you said that I could train him in swordsmanship. I just wanted to confirm if it’s true or not.” Diluc said crossing his arms over his chest.

You frowned as you looked over to your son who had the audacity to hide behind his father. Oh, your father is not going to save you from your mother’s wrath, kid.

“You little fibber! I told you that you’ll have to be a little older before you can learn the sword,” You sighed. “And you go lie to your father… geez what am I going to do with you.” You said massaging your temple.

“I’m sorry, Mom…” S/n mumbled.

“I know you want to learn the sword but, you’ll have to be patient, okay. Can you do that for me?” You asked.

S/n nodded. “Yes, mom. I can do that.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you play?” You said.

“Okay.” S/n said as he walked out the living room and went up the stairs.

You looked Diluc and sighed, slouching your shoulders. “He is so much like me, it’s exhausting.” You said.

Diluc chuckled. “True. Though I find it much more charming when it comes from you.” He said.

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “I was such a troublemaker and a terrible lair when we first met, Diluc.” You said.

“That I was aware of. We didn’t get along at first but,” He paused looking to his wedding ring then back to look at you. He smiled. “I wouldn’t change anything even if our first meeting wasn’t the best. Love having you as my wife, darling.” Diluc said, taking you hand and giving it a kiss.

You blushed. “I can never get used to you talking like that, Diluc,” You said yet you smiled at him. “Let’s hope our next child is more like you.”

He chuckled at your comment. “Certainly.”

<===>

Gorou

Gorou’s life has gotten a slight bit more chaotic. The former doggie general has fought meaning unpredictable battle but the ones that are unpredictable are the ones started by his four children. It was mostly two against two, the two oldest verses the two youngest. It was always a never ending battle that Gorou could never stop, well until he brought out his secret weapon.

“Your mother will handle this when she gets back.” Gorou said.

His four children froze, ears dropping and eyes widened.

“No, Papa! Not Mom!” One exclaimed.

“Yeah. She’ll punish all of us.” Another said.

“That’s not fair!” The third one whined.

Gorou sighed. “It’s not my fault that the four of you rage war in the house over the smallest things like a toy or even food.” He said.

Pouting ensued between the four hybrid children until their ears perked as the front door opened. Their mother was home.

“Gorou, children! I’m home.” You called.

“You four wait here.” Gorou said as walked towards the front door to greet you.

“Hi, dear,” Gorou said smiling at you. “How was the doctor?” He asked.

“Hi. It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary though I do have some news for you and the children. Where are they anyway?” You asked.

Gorou’s ears twitched and crossed his arms. “Their in the living room. They’ve been fighting over a toy all afternoon.” He said.

“Again?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “This is the fifth time this week. Those pups will never learn.” You said.

“I’m sorry,” Gorou’s ears fell back. “I try and keep the peace between them without pulling the ‘I’m getting your mother’ card.” He said.

You chuckled, cupping his face in your hands. “Aww, baby. It’s okay. I have the same trouble when you’re not here either. We’re better as a team anyway.” You said.

Gorou’s tail swished behind him as he smiled placing his hands on yours that cupped his face. “Yes, we are. That’s true but, I’m the man of the house, I should be able to care for the children when you’re gone.” Gorou said.

“Like I told you before even before we had our first kid. We’re a team, Gorou.” You said.

Gorou sighed at his stubbornness. “Right! We’re a team…” He said.

“I love you, Gorou.” You said.

His tail wagged. “I love you too.” He said as he pulled you into a sweet kiss.

“Hi, Mommy!” You and Gorou pulled away seeing your youngest daughter, D/n.

“Hello, my dear. Where are your brothers?” You asked her.

“In the living room. Why?” She asked tilting her head to the side.

“I have something to tell you all including your father. Wait for us there, okay?” You said.

“Okay!” D/n chirped happily as she skipped back to the living room.

“Come on, let’s keep them waiting.” You said to your husband, grabbing his hand.

Looking down at your hands intertwined, he saw both yours and his wedding rings. He smiled and looked back up to you. Oh yeah, he’s definitely one luck dog.

“Wait! We’re having another one!”

“Yep!”

Okay. Maybe he’s bit too lucky…

#genshin impact #genshin fandom #genshin x female reader #genshin fluff #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #genshin gorou #xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #gorou x reader #female reader #fem!reader #drabble #genshin drabble #genshin drabbles

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bruhstories · 8 months

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anything for you

summary: tom loses his virginity on his eighteenth birthday pairing: tom riddle x afab!oc (both of age) warnings: loss of male virginity, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, curse words, descriptions of oc's hair and eye colours w/c: exactly 4,999 words!

a/n: i just needed to get this rubbish out of my head. made up an oc just because i wanted to write in 3rd person so y'all can pretend it's y/n for all i care lol. crossposted on ao3

Tom had never been the type of person to concern himself with desires of the flesh. While most of his peers turned into hormonal teenagers over summer and experimented with women, or men, Tom preferred to stimulate his mind. That did not mean that he couldn't appreciate beauty. He looked at women the way one would look at a sculpture — with awe and desire, but without touching.

Yes, Tom Riddle was a virgin. An eighteen-year old virgin surrounded by horny teens bordering adulthood. Whenever his friends (they weren't friends) tried to set him up for a date, he would never show up, despite knowing that there were lots of young women at Hogwarts infatuated with him. No, Tom had other pressing matters on his mind, goals and ambitions he couldn't afford to lose by being distracted by some scatterbrained girl.

However, to say that Tom wasn't interested in a certain girl would be a lie. She was exquisite and extraordinary. A pureblood with the face of an angel and the mind of a devil, who looked like a woman but thought like a man. Valerie Rosier, with eyes as black as Tom's soul, captivated the young wizard. He wasn't enamoured with her, for he couldn't feel love, but there was a certain obsession Tom felt for the witch, courtesy of his mother. Only he didn't need to use any spells or potions to compel Valerie to love him, because she was already a devoted follower.

Fixated on blood purity, on power and immortality, she was the perfect partner in crime, as muggles liked to say, and she was the perfect woman to take Tom's last shred of innocence. The wizard wanted to experience the pleasures of the flesh before splitting his soul in so many pieces, for he was afraid he couldn't feel a thing if he lost his virginity after creating his Horcruxes. Granted, he had committed his first murder a year before, but he was still human — weak and mortal.

Tom didn't have many friends. He didn't believe in the concept of friendship, but Valerie was his closest confidante. She was the only one who truly believed in him, who encouraged him to become stronger, smarter. She was willing to commit all kinds of despicable atrocities for him, because behind every powerful Dark Wizard was a cunning, conniving Dark Witch.

It was his eighteenth birthday when Tom asked Valerie to find him in his separate dormitory, a privilege of being Head Boy, for a chat. And while the witch cared little for celebrations, she did bring Tom a gift. A beautiful wand handle, with snakes carved in the dark, almost black wood, and small emeralds in place of their eyes.

"A present? For me?" He was not surprised, despite the puzzled look on his face.

"You deserve more than that." Valerie combed through her silky black locks.

In the dim light of his bedroom, she looked almost ethereal, like a phantom coming to haunt him. And she did haunt his mind a lot lately. Tom inspected the gift, his long slender fingers probing the intricate carvings of the handle. He'd never received a present for his birthday. In a different life, he'd probably be happy, give her a hug and thank her. Not in this life.

"I need to ask you something. A favour of sorts." Tom placed the gift on his nightstand.

It's not as if he didn't appreciate it, but he didn't need it. And he doesn't want what he doesn't need.

"Anything." Valerie rushed to speak, and Tom enjoyed her eagerness. He only hoped she was eager to please him in more ways than one.

"You know what I intend to do after graduation." He eyed her and she looked at him with fire in her eyes.

If there was one thing Tom truly liked about Valerie, it was her understanding of him without needing more words. She was a competent witch — if he told her to do something, she would do it without questioning him. She remembered everything he said, every detail of every plan, unlike Malfoy or Flint, who forgot even the simplest instructions.

Valerie nodded — Tom would seek immortality, and she would be by his side to aid him. She was wickedly fascinated by that subject, despite being aware that wizards and witches lived a much longer life than humans. It wasn't enough.

"I want to experience one thing beforehand." Tom calmly said, disturbed by how tight her skirt was. Every time she crossed one leg over the other, the skirt would just go higher up her thighs. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear before shaking the animalistic thought out of his head.

She knew.

From how he looked at her, Valerie knew what he meant, and she was ready to give herself to him. She had never been a saint, losing her virginity to the Lestrange boy in Year 5, then fooling around with either him or Avery, or both, in Year 6. And Tom knew that. He didn't mind it, as long as she kept them focused, but he couldn't deny a slight jealousy. He wished he was her first, but was somewhat grateful he wasn't, because that meant Valerie had much more experience, and it wouldn't be awkward.

Of course, Tom read about sex. Curiosity boiled in his veins, that was both his biggest quality, and his worst flaw. He even took it so far as to read muggle books on the topic. But it was all very scientific, an encyclopaedia of reproduction, with no regards to pleasure. Tom hoped he would understand why his little gang was so distracted.

"What will you have me do?" Valerie crossed her legs again, and again that damned skirt moved up.

Oh, she knew exactly how to phrase her sentences and questions. She didn't ask what he wanted, or what the favour was, but instead what he wanted her to do, like a good, obedient slave. Tom adored that about her, because unlike his mindless peers, she followed him, while also keeping her personality and independence. It was as if whatever he wanted her to do, she wanted to do as well. Like two different people with the same soul and brain.

With knitted brows, Tom pondered over his choice of words. He didn't want her to feel like a cheap whore, although he had a hunch she liked feeling that way, and that thought both bothered and excited him.

"I want you to be my first intimate partner." He finally said, picking his words very carefully. "Before I achieve immortality, I would like to experience this human feeling first."

She always imagined him to be dominant and in control, and so it was a bit of a shock for Valerie to realise that Tom never had sex before. No, she half-expected him to be a womaniser, to flirt with girls and get what he wanted, maybe even seduce muggles before killing them.

"As you wish." Valerie tugged at the hem of her skirt before pulling it up, but Tom stopped her.

"No, not like that." His hand rushed to hers, stopping her from doing anything. "There was a term I read about in a muggle book… foreplay, I believe it was called."

"Ah!" She grinned at him, already feeling her cunt hot. "My apologies, I thought you wanted to get it over and done with."

"I'd like to be entertained first." Tom removed his hands from her body, awkwardly expecting something, he just didn't know what exactly.

"Have you kissed someone before?" Valerie asked, loosening her tie only a little. She felt very, very hot.

"Once. I can't remember her name." He admitted without a shred of remorse. It wasn't a particularly significant moment in his life, and the kiss itself wasn't memorable.

"Then, may I kiss you?"

Tom nodded. He felt her move closer to him and instinctively closed his eyes. Valerie placed a shy kiss on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth before finally crushing his lips under hers. And Tom could feel his temperature raise when she feverishly pried open his mouth with her tongue. He admitted to himself that his first kiss paled in comparison to this one. He even enjoyed it when she took his bottom lip between her teeth.

Tom couldn't stop his hands when they began to freely roam her back, wrapping an arm around her waist while hers slithered under his robe, pushing it off his shoulders. And he didn't protest when Valerie straddled him, desperately kissing him and grinding against the growing bulge in his trousers.

So that was foreplay, a sort of preparation for the upcoming intimate moment. He understood now, and he unclasped her robe, letting it silently fall behind her, on the floor. Valerie's hands worked on untying his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. Tom did the same, a little too eager for his own taste. He didn't enjoy giving in to earthly pleasures, but he knew he could do it with her. She wasn't like the rest of them. She never judged him, never questioned him, never doubted him.

Valerie finally leaned back, allowing her and Tom some time to breathe. But his breathing stopped for a second when he saw her white lace bra displayed in front of his eyes. It looked expensive, and it probably was considering how wealthy her family was. He wondered if it matched the rest of her undergarments.

"May I touch you?" Tom found himself asking. Although he didn't normally ask for permission, he found it proper to do so in that context.

"Please, please do touch me!" She whined with ardour.

He nodded and clumsily felt her shoulders and upper arms, as if he didn't dare to move any lower than that. Valerie chuckled at his attempt, placing her hand on his.

"Like this." She whispered, pressing his hand down her collarbone and guiding it lower, until his fingers brushed over her still clothed chest. "Take it off, Tom, please."

How dare she tell him what to do? And worse, why was he so compelled to listen? He wasn't under the Imperius Curse, nor did he ingest Amortentia, yet there he was, hunched over her shoulder, unclasping her bra. She smelled so good, like roses and lavender, and he buried his nose in her hair.

There was no spell — he truly wanted her.

Once her shirt and bra were off, tossed somewhere in his room, Tom looked at her bare chest in awe. He had only seen naked women in paintings and sculptures, and they were beautiful, but she was superior.

He didn't ask for permission this time, instead he took her nipples in his fingers, pinching and twisting them with curiosity. Every action of his earned a reaction from her, and Valerie didn't shy away from moaning and wriggling in his lap. And by the look on her face, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

In exchange, she took his shirt off, still grinding against his clothed cock for an ounce of friction, and kissed his neck, sometimes digging her teeth into his porcelain skin. Tom growled. He had never made such a sound before, but he enjoyed it every time she bit him, leaving him wanting more, he just didn't know what yet.

"I want, oh- I want to pleasure you. Please, may I?" Valerie said against his skin, and he nodded. Tom didn't know exactly what she meant, but he assumed it was time for sexual intercourse.

She got up from his lap and kneeled down on the floor, between his legs. He cautiously watched her every move, because this wasn't in the books, and when Valerie took notice of the confused look on his face, she smiled.

"Do you trust me?" Her voice was soothing, yet he felt like he was being lured in a trap.

Tom didn't trust anyone but himself, but curiosity got the better of him again, and he nodded. With his consent, Valerie proceeded to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his trousers. He was already so hard, she licked her lips in anticipation, ready to devour him, and while the lust in her eyes didn't make him afraid, it did make him feel slightly on edge, because he didn't know what she was about to do. And he didn't like not knowing.

Valerie pulled down his trousers and underwear, marvelling at the size of his cock. How was he so big, yet so inexperienced? Clearly he didn't know what advantage he possessed with that instrument of both pleasure, and torture. Tom only realised what was about to happen when she parted her luscious lips open, and a sudden feeling of disgust flushed through his body. She really was a cheap whore, he thought, until she took him in her mouth, and his muscles suddenly relaxed. His disgust was quickly, too quickly, replaced by pure pleasure.

Bobbing her head up and down, she dug her fingernails into his thighs, clearly bothered by the strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Tom felt the need to help her, and he gathered her hair into a bunch in his hand, holding it back while she sucked him so good. To his surprise, Valerie moaned against his cock, enjoying the act herself. What pleasure could she possibly feel if she was the one pleasing him? It angered him, made his blood boil, and in a fit of irrational rage, he pushed her head down, hitting the back of her throat with the tip of his cock.

He held her like that for some time, until he realised she was choking on his cock, her fingernails drawing blood from his skin. Tom released her, shocked by how weak humans were. There was a newfound power in him, power that he held over her. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and she coughed and gasped for air. Was she crying? No. Someone like her couldn't cry. They were tears of bliss.

"Again!" Valerie greedily took him in her mouth.

"Fuck." Tom whispered. He wasn't one to cuss, but it was the first word that came into his mind when he felt her tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. "Ugh, you're a filthy whore, aren't you?" He looked down at her, revelling in the power imbalance.

She was a sight for sore eyes, half-naked, between his legs and with his cock in her mouth. And Valerie wouldn't have it any other way. Granted, she'd been fucked better by other boys, but to have Tom Riddle all to herself was a privilege. He had ambitions others could only dream of, and she wanted to be by his side when he achieved them. She wanted him to succeed, to purge the wizarding world of its stain.

Looking up at him with doe eyes, Valerie leaned back, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. She spat on his cock, and Tom scoffed at the vulgar gesture, yet he still didn't protest, nor did he want her to stop. Embarrassingly, he could feel himself closer to his climax.

"Not just any whore." Valerie barked back. "Your whore."

There it was again, the way she got under his skin with honeyed words and pleading eyes. But she meant it. She didn't want anyone but him. She wanted to belong to him.

"Then suck." Tom demanded, and she obeyed.

He couldn't tell where all that confidence came from. Normally he would manipulate or blackmail people to do what he wanted, but perhaps adrenaline kicked in, because pleasure and anger bubbled inside of him, and without a warning, he came into her mouth, panting and sweating, despite not moving a muscle.

Tom watched her with an arched brow, watched her swallow every drop of his seed, and he wondered what he tasted like. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and crushed her lips in a needy kiss.

Bitter. Everything about him was bitter, and while he scrunched his nose at the taste, she loved it.

It wasn't what Tom expected, and couldn't deny that he thought he'd last longer than that. He wasn't ashamed, but rather disappointed in himself.

"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself before carrying on." Valerie nonchalantly said, as if she didn't just have his cock in her mouth.

"Carry on?" Tom spoke without thinking, intrigued by her. She truly was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Do you not wish to carry on?" She asked, almost offended.

He placed his thumb and index finger on his chin, deep in thought. Of course he wanted to carry on, but he couldn't be desperate. Tom had to choose his words carefully, he couldn't let her have the upper hand. Valerie had already demonstrated that she wouldn't betray him long before this moment, but one could never be too sure.

"Very well." He finally said. "What shall we do, then? It will take some time for me to… recover."

It was her turn to ponder over his question, head slightly tilted like a confused dog. Then she smiled, and Tom knew that smile all too well. It meant she had a twisted idea brewing in her mind.

"Would you like to touch me? For scientific purposes, I mean." Valerie got up from the floor, stretching her legs.

"Scientific purposes?" He repeated. The books never mentioned anything about touching a woman. "Elaborate."

"Well," she began, lifting her skirt enough to expose her thigh-high stocking and garterbelt, "women do enjoy sex. Men don't like to talk about that, they want to keep us pure and virginal."

Ah! It finally clicked that he read something about a bundle of nerves called the clitoris, and that it can be stimulated. He watched her remove her stocking, and only then did Tom realise he was about to see her fully naked. There was very little left for his imagination, and his flaccid cock twitched. Perhaps he didn't need as much time as he thought.

"I suppose I might find myself in a situation where I would have to please women." Tom nodded. "Very well, teach me."

It bothered Valerie to hear that, for she hoped she would be his only lover, but of course, Tom would become invincible, he could have anyone he wanted, and she had to come to terms with that. She fluffed the pillow on his bed and sat down, back against it.

"Women like tenderness, they are romantic beings. They like to feel loved, even if they aren't." Valerie explained. "Our bodies work differently when we aren't coerced to be intimate. That's what foreplay is for."

"I see." Tom watched her get comfortable on his bed.

"Go on, touch me. I shall let you know if you're on the right track, but you'll probably know from how I act." She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

Tom was clever enough to know that he shouldn't violently grab her body, although there was a voice in his head that told him she might like it. He ignored the voice, and placed a kiss on her shoulder, lying next to her. His fingers ghosted over her abdomen, moving up and down, as if he didn't want to let her know where it would go next. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and Tom took it as a sign of doing the right thing, before he cupped her breasts with both of his hands. He froze, because his instinct told him to do something he wasn't sure was proper.

"Don't stop." Valerie assured him, as if reading her mind, and Tom gave in to his instinct, taking one of her hard nipples in his mouth.

She arched her back, and he finally knew what she meant by what she said. Her body responded to his touches, and again, his cock twitched. Tom was surprisingly enjoying seeing her wriggle and writhe under him, and he took it a step further by moving his hand down her body, to her thigh, pushing it onto the mattress to spread her legs. He didn't want to seem eager, but his own body betrayed him when he felt himself growing harder.

Tom moved his hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where he stopped to pull down her skirt and underwear. He didn't care anymore if it matched her bra.

"It's alright if you want to look." She purred, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and shifted his weight to take a good look at her, and she was divine. Legs spread, she didn't have a single hair on her cunt, and Tom was dumbfounded. She found his curiosity amusing, and she sat up to kiss him. He kissed her back with more passion than before, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed perfect, he just couldn't bring himself to ever love her. She knew, and she was fine with that.

"Use your fingers." She instructed him.

With his newfound confidence and passion, Tom grazed over her slit with his fingertips, marvelling at just how hot she was to the touch. He even wondered if she had a fever before sliding two fingers past her folds. The intrusion made her cunt clench around his fingers, and Tom's breath got caught in his throat when he realised she would clench like that around his cock. She was wet, hot and velvety, and it was a feeling he had never experienced before.

"Oh, fuck, just like that!" Valerie grabbed the sheets in her fists when he moved his fingers in and out of her aching cunt.

It was extraordinary to hear her moan and groan, to watch her roll her eyes and arch her back, all because of him. And Tom couldn't get over how wet she was. He read about it, about how women naturally produce a lubricant, and it truly was fascinating to experience this first-hand. The more she chanted his name, the more Tom's cock hardened, and he was ready to give in to temptation. He pulled his fingers out, and he was fixated on tasting her. Would she taste bitter, just like him?

Curiosity was in his nature, and sometimes he couldn't fight it. Tom popped his index finger in his mouth, and Valerie was stunned to see him taste her slick. She was sweet, like nectar, and he wanted more. She knew he wanted more by the look in his eyes, predatory and obsessive and downright deranged.

"Tom." Valerie propped herself on her elbow and squeezed her thighs together, wanting to talk some sense into him.

"You did it to me, allow me to return the favour." He said, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"It's not that I don't want it." She told him, and that made him even more eager to devour her cunt. "But I don't deserve it."

"That's ridiculous." Tom scoffed.

"I am beneath you, Tom. You are on a path to become the greatest wizard of all time. You can't be doing these degrading things." Valerie gasped when he forced open her legs.

"It's still for scientific purposes." He sneered at her. "And you are right, I am on a path to become the greatest dark wizard of all time. So, you shouldn't be disobeying me."

Valerie mentally scolded herself for even daring to talk back to him. He was right, he should take whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to taste her, then so be it. Apologies spilled from her lips, and she leaned back on the pillow while Tom forced open her legs and buried his face between them. He didn't care about gently touching her anymore, he was far too hungry for such formalities.

Pressing his tongue against her slit, Tom lazily dragged it up, pushing one finger into her, and she arched her back, muttering a string of obscene words she knew he didn't like. But at that moment, in that context, he didn't want her to shut up. Her reaction made him lap at her cunt, pumping his finger in and out of her until her legs trembled. Then he added another finger, and he curled them up, feeling her velvety walls clench around them.

"Tom, I- fuck! I'm so close!" Valerie cried out, grateful for the silencing charm he placed in his room beforehand.

Then he stopped.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped and pulled his fingers out, watching her wriggle in anguish and anger. Now that was power, Tom thought. To have her cry tears of pain, although he hadn't hurt her in the slightest, that made him feel good.

"No, you're not finishing like that." He said, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her up from his bed.

Confused, and slightly annoyed, Valerie allowed herself to be dragged to the velvet sofa in his bedroom, where he sat down. He was ready.

"I want you in my lap." Tom leaned back, getting comfortable.

"You want me to ride you?" She arched a brow, not questioning him, rather asking for permission.

"Is that what it's called?" He scoffed at the term. How vulgar. "Yes, I want you to ride me." Tom assured her.

"Very well." Valerie nodded, climbing into his lap, knees to the sides of his hips.

She kissed him first, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hot cunt against his cock. Grinding against it, she rolled her hips, doing everything in her power to make him feel good. And Tom was feeling good, but he was also impatient. His hand slithered up her thigh, over her firm ass, before resting on the small of her back.

"You're stalling." He said, venom dripping down his tongue.

"I merely want to treat you like a king." Valerie whispered into his ear, pressing her hips harder against his. "You deserve to be adored, worshiped."

"Is that so?" Tom almost didn't believe her.

"I want to be there when you achieve greatness." She was wet, coating his cock in her slick without even having her in him.

"I suppose you proved yourself competent enough." He shrugged. It was his way of complimenting her.

Valerie took the backhanded compliment with a smile, knowing that no one ever got so close to him as she did. She even dared to think she was one of his favourites.

"I want to be yours, my lord." She said, finally sliding his cock inside, sinking lower in his lap.

Oh, it felt divine, delicious, delirious. She was tight, perfectly taking him in, and Tom couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. It brought a grin to her beautiful face. Valerie placed her hands on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, rolling her hips, whimpering and chanting his name like a prayer. Her eyes were filled with tears of bliss, pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. And her face was something that would forever be ingrained on his retina.

"So big!" She cried out, feeling his cock stretch her out in ways other men could only dream of. "So good."

Tom wasn't someone who expressed his feelings verbally, but even he groaned, digging his fingers in the plush of her hips. She fucked him like it was her last day on Earth, pressing her chest against his, and Tom took the opportunity to hold her in place. Valerie didn't protest, letting him do as he pleased, which was to thrust into her relentlessly and violently. It was a good thing she sucked his cock before, because he could feel himself lasting longer.

"Tell me." Tom said, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. "Tell me you want me."

"I do!" Valerie said without hesitation. "I want you for eternity. Oh, fuck, I need you!"

He enjoyed hearing those words, to feel adored, and he realised that it was better for some people to love him rather than fear him. Or at least one person. One was enough, as long as she would always be there for him.

Tom shifted his weight and pushed Valerie on the sofa, so he could be on top of her, his cock still deep in her cunt. He found her eyes, and they were honest. He knew she wouldn't lie. She couldn't lie to him, despite her filling people's heads with sweet nothings. But everything she told him was the purest truth.

"Fuck-" Tom growled, still in shock at how well she took him. No, she was made for him.

"Please don't ever leave me." Valerie said, completely vulnerable and to his mercy.

"I won't." He didn't lie. While he hated to admit it, he needed her just as much, albeit not showing it.

She was useful to him, and that was the reason he needed her, but Tom also didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. Because behind every dark wizard should be an even darker witch, twisted and deranged, just like him.

Valerie wrapped her legs around his waist, breath hitching and heart racing in her chest. She was close, and she was determined to finish this time. Tom couldn't think anymore, not when bliss took over, and he pressed his forehead against hers, legs quaking, while he frantically and brutally thrusted into her.

He finished inside of her, and she came on his cock, and they both felt like there was molten lava in their veins. Bodies burning, muscles aching, they laid there together, with Tom weighing down on her. He was heavier than he looked, but it comforted her. It was safe to say that Tom was a changed man after that night. Same goals, same ambitions, but with a loyal woman that would kill for him in the blink of an eye.

"I want you to break your soul into a million pieces for me." He said, pushing strands of hair out of her face.

"Anything for you, my lord.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle smut #harry potter

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mackdizzy · 3 months

Text

[my gift for @thecooleraveragejamm , for @mcyt-valentines !]

Okay, so!

My giftee was interested in c!Technoblade and a playlist, so I made a little song cycle! The cycle is in 8 parts (acts) with 7 songs each, and the whole thing will take just under 3 hours to listen to, with each individual act being 20-25 minutes. I'm posting the graphics, song lists, and spotify playlists (there are 8 separate playlists) in order, but if spotify isn't your jam, isn't accessible, or if you'd rather all in one go, at the end of this post (along with some more info about the cycle) is a youtube playlist that contains all 56 songs all at once!

Act 1: World Conqueror • I'm Born to Run (American Authors) • Taking Over the World (Coyote Theory) • Aulon Raid (The Mountain Goats) • Renegades (X Ambassadors) • Ends of the Earth (Lord Huron) • Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Lorde) • Immortals (Fall out Boy)

Act 2: (We Have) The Blade • The Horror and the Wild (The Amazing Devil) • Revolution (The Score) • Riot (Hollywood Undead) • Legend (The Score) • The Phoenix (Fall Out Boy) • Raging Fire (Phillip Phillips) • Unstoppable (The Score)

Act 3: Interlude; Peer Pressure • Borderline (Tame Impala) • Angry Too (Lola Blanc) • Victorious (Panic! at the Disco) • Blood (End Credits) (My Chemical Romance) • Bang! (AJR) • Sinners (Barns Courtney) • Never Going Back (The Score)

Act 4: Die Like One • Pale White Horse (The Oh Hellos) • Point of No Return (Starset) • Let's Kill Tonight (Panic! at the Disco) • Rebels (Call Me Karizma) • Enemies (The Score) • Born Ready (Zayde Wolf) • This is it (Oh The Larceny)

Act 5: Retirement or; • Thousand Eyes (Of Monsters and Men) • People I Don't Like (UPSAHL) • Whatever it Takes (Imagine Dragons) • Under the Pressure (The Score) • Another Way Out (Hollywood Undead) • Monster (Willyecho) • Ghost (Confetti)

Act 6: Welcome Home Theseus (Minor Acts of Terrorism) • Play Dirty (Kevin McAllister [SEBELL]) • Emperor's New Clothes (Panic! at the Disco) • Wrecking Ball (Mother Mother) • Glory and Gore (Lorde) • Bang Bang (Hippo Campus) • Allies or Enemies (The Crane Wives) • Novocaine (Fall Out Boy)

Act 7: It Ends Today (I'm a Person) • Roots (Imagine Dragons) • Wolves (Sam Tinnesz, Silverberg) • My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up) (Fall out Boy) • Fire (Barns Courtney) • Wine Red (The Hush Sound) • Take Me To War (The Crane Wives) • Ready Set Let's Go (Sam Tinnesz)

Act 8: Sic Semper Tyrannis • Bit by Bit (Mother Mother) • Up The Wolves (The Mountain Goats) • Creature (Half • Alive ) • Kings (Tribe Society) • Run Like A Rebel (The Score) • The Ballad of the Broken Bones (The Low Anthem) • Hieroglyphs (The Oh Hellos) ━━━ ➼ ━━━━

I tried to pick music that aesthetically, musically, and lyrically matched c!Techno's vibes--the playlist follows his story from pre-DSMP to post-Doomsday (so not the whole thing, but a nice, peaceful ending point). The intention is for you to follow c!Techno's journey as you listen, and I think this playlist has a rather nice message about finding yourself and finding peace through rather hostile circumstances and worldviews. It gave me a lot of peace and joy to make, and I hope you enjoy, giftee and anyone else, and have fun listening! Youtube Link

#mcyt-valentines #dream smp #technoblade #ctechno

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soralinklokidottirofmirkwood · 1 year

Text

My little kitten: Yandere Thranduil x baby neko reader part 1.

Age: 3 week old newborn. When Thranduil visits the queen of a neighboring kingdom he wants the queens newborn daughter. Takes place after BotFA and shortly before FotR, Thorin, Fili and Kili lives.

Warning: death, poison, a little gore, kidnapping, Yandere.

King Thranduil is riding his elk to the kingdom of K/N to meet up with Queen M/N who had recently lost her husband.

Later in the kingdom of K/N:

Thranduil and a few of his guards are standing before a woman with thigh length H/C hair and E/C eyes her most noticeable features were her ears and tail that matched her hair. He walks up to her and kissed her hand "It's been awhile M/N." He said to the younger immortal being who smiled "It has Thranduil." M/N said her H/C ears twitching and her tail swaying.

(What M/N is wearing)

The two rulers are in M/N's private study discussing their kingdom trades, wine, weaponry etc until a maid came in "I'm sorry your majesty but the princess is awake." The young woman said. "Thank you Noelle. You can take the rest of the day off." (Not Noelle from Genshin.) The queen said with a smile and got up with Thranduil who had confusion on his face. "Daughter? I didn't know you and F/N had a child." He said as he followed M/N to the royal wing where her Bed room is at. They walk into the room, Thranduil sees a crib next to M/N's queen size bed and she gently picks up the most beautiful baby he's ever seen “Yes she is three weeks old, her name is Y/N.” Your mother said gently cradling you in her arms. You looked just liked your mother same hair color and same eyes. Thranduil felt something he haven't felt for his own son 'obsession.'

(What your wearing)

You looked at the elven king in curiosity and gurgled "That is king Thranduil dear." Your mother said while rubbing your soft H/C ears gently making you purr happily unaware of the envious Woodland King 'She will be mine!' Thranduil thinks to himself determinedly.

Later Thranduil's POV:

It was near time for me and my men to leave but M/N proposed a toast to our alliance after she put "My" Y/N down for her nap which gave me the perfect opportunity. When she left I poured a vial of poison in her wine and waited for her to return. After she finally came back we lifted our goblets "A toast to our alliance." She said as we both drink our wines and made our way out of the study as soon as we did the poison took effect and in minutes M/N was on the floor dead. I smirked to myself but was thinking on what to do with the body until I saw two passed out guards drunked an idea pop in my head. I took their daggers, stabbed M/N twice (carful not to get blood on me), smeared the blood on the guards, put the daggers in their hands, went to the bathroom and washed my hands but I heard a maid screaming "QUEEN M/N!" I looked out to see that Noelle girl from earlier trying her hardest not to scream and wake Y/N up soon other guards and servants saw the whole thing. "This is good." I say to myself I managed to sneak over to M/N's room, grab my little kitten from her crib, found a torch, threw it on the ground and made the palace catch on fire. My men managed to get out but the servants and guards from inside M/N's palace didn't making me smirk and look down to Y/N who was purring in her sleep 'cute!' I think to myself "What should we do with the child my lord?" A guard asked me. "She comes with us of course. I will raise her as my own." I said cradling Y/N in my arms and adjusting the F/C blanket she was wrapped in.

In Mirkwood no one's pov:

Thranduil makes his way to the throne room with you in his arms passing guards and servants who are surprised to see you in Thranduil's arms making him smirk more.

He arrives to the throne room, sits on his throne with you resting in the crook of his arm he gently rubs your little ears but as he did you woke up with a squeaky yawn making him smile "hello little one." He said making you coo and stare at him in curiosity. "You are never leaving my side and if anyone tries to take you they are dead." He said gently kissing your forehead "You are mine and mine alone my little kitten." He said still holding you as you cooed in wonder.

At night:

Thranduil is now in his bedroom. After bathing and feeding you he managed to get you to sleep. He lies down with you on his chest and your soft purring making you more irresistible "Good night Y/N, my little kitten." He said kissing your head and falling asleep never ever letting you go.

#yandere #mirkwood elves #platonic #the hobbit #thranduil #neko reader #baby reader #middle earth #yandere father

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hami-gua · 4 months

Text

I'm back!!!

I'm back!! I was literally in no spirits to write fanfics, but thinking about picking it back up again.

Really have been in a Honkai Star Rail brain rot lately (mostly about xianzhou men ^^), and many ideas just popped into my brain. So please read through all of it and tell me which one you think I should start first. And please repost or share it with others! Comments are important!! I know it's long, but just bear with me. It's vital for me (>.<)

Long Fics:

Jing Yuan x Reader

Trope: Childhood friends to lovers

Relationships: Jing Yuan x Reader, TBD

About: Based off of a Ming dynasty emperor who only loved one woman (his childhood friend) for his whole life.

Reader Gender: Female

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Ancient China au, childhood friends to lovers, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, female! Reader, jing yuan x reader, hsr jing yuan, honkai star rail jing yuan, jing yuan x you

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Dan Heng x Reader

Trope: Reincarnation

Relationship: Dan Heng x Reader, TBD

About: Loosely based off of the c-drama 三生三世 (it’s really just an ost that inspired me). Dan Heng loves reader for the longest time, but instead of him reincarnating, it’s reader. Basically, reader is mortal while Dan Heng is immortal and heavenly law states that immortals aren’t allowed to fall in love with mortals. Essentially Dan Heng breaks that rule many times and gets punished many times (i.e. heavenly prison, loss of status, etc). And what if reader becomes immortal one day?

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, immortal x mortal, immortality, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, dan heng x reader, hsr dan heng, dan heng x you, suggestive, reincarnation

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Jing Yuan x Reader

Trope: Maiden and knight

Relationships: Jing Yuan x Reader, TBD

About: Another one based loosely off of c-drama (again, it’s the ost doing it for me). This time loosely based off of Love Like the Galaxy. Some characters may be more calculating than in the show. Only really thought of this cuz of Jing Yuan being a general.

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, jing yuan x reader, hsr jing yuan, honkai star rail jing yuan, jing yuan x you

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Blade x Reader

Trope: Good x Evil

Relationships: Blade x Reader, TBD

About: Another another loosely inspired by the c-drama, Love Between Fairy and Devil. Though no, reader isn’t really gonna be an innocent dunce from the start. May display dumb, but not make it her personality. People around reader keep trying to tell them to stay away from the evil ones, but reader doesn’t really listen (cuz folks really don’t be telling them what the evil people look like) and ends up meeting the leader of said evil forces, Blade. Plot starts towards the beginning of the war between the good and evil.

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, blade x reader, hsr blade, hsr blade x reader, blade x you, hsr blade x you

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Dan Heng x Reader

Trope: Can MDZS be a trope itself?

Relationships: Dan Heng x Reader, TBD

About: Inspired by MDZS/The Untamed. Although it won’t be danmei and will deviate with the fact it’s more chronological than having long periods of flashbacks (yes I’m looking at you Untamed, why tf did you spend so many episodes on flashbacks and then everything after just went by so quickly??? But that’s just my opinion -- anyways). Obviously not everything is going to be 100% accurate since this is a fanfic inspired by MDZS/The Untamed and Star Rail isn’t that.

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, gn! Reader, dan heng x reader, hsr dan heng, dan heng x you, suggestive, resurrection

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Blade x Reader

Trope: Princ(ess) and knight

Relationships: Blade x Reader, Dan Heng & Reader (platonic)

About: Blade is assigned to be the personal guard of lord/lady by none other than their brother, Dan Heng. The lord/lady only thought of Blade as a sword and shield, they never thought they’d ever fall for the man with many mysteries. Yet they know, that those who hold many mysteries are the ones most likely to betray and use. That was just the way of court life. However, a small part of them just hopes -- wishes that Blade would never betray or use them for ulterior motives.

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, gn! Reader, blade x reader, hsr blade, hsr blade x reader, blade x you, hsr blade x you, protective! Blade

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Luocha x Reader

Trope: Immortal and mortal

Relationships: Luocha x Reader, Fu Xuan (just filling in the role of the monk)

About: Based off of the Legend of the White Snake. Deviation will occur. Reader doesn’t have a sister, and Luocha is an actual doctor not scholar. Reader will not be imprisoned in a pagoda (like is some shows/rendition of the story).

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, luocha x reader, hsr luocha, luocha x you, hsr luocha x you

One-Shots

Jing Yuan x Reader

About: Very loosely based off of Fuhao, the Shang dynasty warrior queen. Reader is is a priestess and a warrior, going off to fight battles and returning victorious until one day, she didn’t return. Stricken with grief, Jing Yuan prepares a burial and tomb for his beloved queen.

Reader Gender: Female

Tags: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, guzhuang, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, jing yuan x reader, hsr jing yuan, honkai star rail jing yuan, jing yuan x you,

♡ ꒰ ◞ ◟ ꒱⌒)ᦱ 𓈒 ૮₍ ´ . ˕ .` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹ ໒ ꐦ ｀ヮ ´ ა

Dan Heng x Reader

About: Dan Heng (Imbibitor Lunae) takes a stroll for a break. Then stumbles upon a unique looking figure: softly resting atop their hair were two long feathers of grey color. He had never seen someone like them before, so curiosity getting the best of him, he approaches them. Only for them to turn and look at him. That’s when he froze, both in embarrassment and in fear. Da peng, the only child of the phoenix to feast upon dragons. Da peng, the one who stands before him with a curious gaze.

Reader Gender: Neutral

Tags: Fluff, silly, no dan heng they're not gonna eat you, Honkai Star Rail x Reader, hsr x reader, gn! Reader, dan heng x reader, hsr dan heng, dan heng x you, chinese mythology

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womblegrinch · 1 year

Photo

Newell Convers Wyeth (1882-1945) - A man of a certain probity and worth, immortal and natural (New England; The wood sled)

Oil on Renaissance panel. Painted c.1935-1936.

34.5 x 28.4 inches, 87.6 x 72.1 cm. Estimate: US$200,000-300,000.

Sold Bonhams, New York, 25 May 2023 for US$406,900 incl B.P.

Wyeth provided ten oil panels as illustrations for Men of Concord and Some Others, as Portrayed in the Journal of Henry David Thoreau, published in 1936, this illustration being used as the frontispiece.

#Newell Convers Wyeth #N.C. Wyeth #NC Wyeth #Henry David Thoreau #Henry Thoreau

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donnatroyprincessofthemyscira · 8 months

Text

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racefortheironthrone · 4 months

Note

Hi Steven, I too am intriugued by the ROTPOX and kinda blown away. I noticed one little thing: the first issue is all in +10 years, will this number rise with upcoming issues? And in the end it will go back to minus years to (almost?) kill young Moita? I would be glad to read your extended thoughts.

It is waaaaaaaaaaaaay more complicated than just +10 years.

As I understand it, and I am very much still in the process of trying to wrap my head around Kieron Gillen's dizzyingly complicated ideas, we have a whole bunch of timelines going on at once:

The main events of the comic are happening in Timeline D, which is the Stasis Dominion scenario in which Dr. Stasis hacks the Vault, turns off the sun, and guzumps the Sentinel's Dominion project. This is "harvested" by Enigma from outside of time and space, and thus never technically happens.

The events of Sins of Sinister took place in Timeline E, where Mr. Sinister wiped out the galaxy to ascend to Dominion. This is also "harvested by Enigma."

The events of most of Immortal X-Men and Fall of X/FOTHOX are happening in Timeline C. However, Timeline C is influenced by escaping elements of Timeline E, such as Mother Righteous' library, the Moira Engine message, and Rasputin IV.

We haven't seen Timeline F, just that it was the one in which Orbis Stellaris ascended and was then "harvested" by Enigma.

Most of the events of HOXPOX and the rest of the pre-Fall Krakoan Era took place in Timeline A and B. However, once Mister Sinister created the Moira Engine, the main timeline diverged into multiple timelines thanks to the influence of Enigma.

The events of Inferno (2021) happen in both Timeline C and Timeline H, where the Trickster Dominion manages to avert the total victory of Krakoa (which, critically involved the use of the Phoenix to defeat the Dominions, something that the mutants of Timeline C don't have access to atm) by sending the consciousness of Omega Sentinel to accelerate the Nimrod project. Thus, Timeline H never happened.

The events of the last few issues of Immortal X-Men and all of Jean Grey take place in Timeline G, where Mother Righteous manages to manipulate a mortally-wounded and timeline-hallucinating Jean Grey as a human sacrifice to give her control of the White Hot Room and ascend to Dominion. This timeline is also "harvested" by Enigma, bringing it into reflexive existence in I (which is technically not a timeline, since Enigma exists outside of time and space). Unusually Mother Righteous isn't destroyed in the process, merely dropping out of ascension back into the White Hot Room (which also exists outside of time and space).

Then there is Professor X's non-timeline K, in which he endeavors to prevent the ascension of Enigma but ultimately reverts back to a contingency plan of killing Moira before her powers manifest, thus averting all the above timelines.

#xmen #xmen meta #rotpox #kieron gillen #hoxpox doxroxdeox foxfothoxrotpox

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xmenuniverse · 1 year

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Exodus in Immortal X-Men (2022-). - requested by @stinktalksmalls

#xmenedit #marveledit #comicedit #uncannysource #themarvelmultiverse #comiceditblog #bennet du paris #exodus #xmen #x-men #x men #ch: bennet du paris #c: immortal x men #comic #graphic #mine #mine: comic #mine: graphic #by jessica

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evilhorse · 2 years

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We saved the day, but I hope everyone appreciates we did it with style.

#immortal x-men #x-men #iceman #bobby drake #firestar #angelica jones #rainbow #style #saving the world #a.x.e.: judgment day #mutants #gerry duggan #c. f. villa #marvel comics #comics #2020s comics

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heavendear32 · 1 month

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7. Not Explicitly Stated

Summary: “I know that gods roam the earth because I used to walk with them”, Haneul is an immortal being with powers that most humans would kill for. When Haneul gambles with the gods, she loses her powers and without her powers she’s cursed to die by the next full moon. She hurries to get her powers back with the help from the last person Haneul wants to be around: a demon.

Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong X Fem!O/c

Word count: 3,583

Warnings: mythical creatures, mentions of getting cursed, spiritual messages, mentions of religions, cussing, allusions to smut, mentions of loss of blood and drinking blood, mentions of possession, mentions of magic usage, mentions of death, death, violence, drinking, gambling, other idols are mentioned, pet names (darling, babe, baby, my dear), deals, misogyny, mentions of illness and postpartum depression.

Lee Haneul was born as a gift from the Heavens, or that’s at least what her mother told her. Between her dazed stated and the days where all she did was sleep, Ryu Dal-rae explained where Haneul came from. It was known to the girl that she was the only child her parents could have, her father’s attitude told her that. What wasn’t known to her was that Haneul came from the gods.

Close to their little village was what the villagers liked to call “The Heavens”, it was plot of land close to the road where travelers stopped and traded. It had no usual vendors nor did it sell the usual items, its vendors consisted of the very many gods.

You could not trade for cloth or feed for your animal, but for magic. Many people flocked for this small taste of magic, wanting their wishes to be granted. The villagers asked for help with things for their families or the village.

“Please grant us a good harvest.”

“Please let my daughter marry a rich man.”

“Would you please make sure my animals grow healthy and strong.”

“Allow my son to get a good job as an official.”

They flocked in huge groups but many wishes and magical items came with their price, some costed the person a year of servitude for the god or their first born, sometimes it costed them their memories. Dal-rae had always tried to be the best for her family, she never talked back to her parents and did her chores without any issues, she took care of her family and always did what they said and this included going to meet the Gods.

Dal-rae watched as her friends raced off through the stalls, she always stood just outside of the circle watching as those made deals with the “devils”. As she grew and matured, the woman forgot about the Gods. Instead she welcomed the arraigned marriage, that her parents found, with open arms wanting to be the best wife for her husband.

The man she married was harsh and aggressive, resenting his parents for the arraigned marriage. Dal-rae tried her best for the marriage, as she did with her parents but there was one thing she wasn’t able to do for her husband. She wasn’t able to have kids, no matter how hard she tried. Dal-rae tried everything, going to every physician and tried every elixir they suggested. Dal-rae tried going to Shamans, hoping that a blessing would change her circumstances but nothing ever did.

The woman became more depressed, as her body betrayed her desire to do the only thing she could do. She watched as all her other friends and the women in her village gave birth to their sons who grew up to be great young men and with that, her shame and sadness grew. All Dal-rae wanted was a child, but all she got was shame from her village and family and even her own husband started to become revolted by her.

The only thing that brought her happiness was the daily walks through nature Dal-rae took. It made her think of when she was younger, when she would chase after frogs after filling the buckets with water from the stream. Her mind raced but the second she started singing, it seemed like everything faded away until one day she wasn’t the only one humming.

Dal-rae had wandered to close to the place she always stayed away from, she hissed as a boy ran into her. The woman took a couple steps forward to steady herself but her eyes searched the stalls, the people seemed so happy as they sold and bought. A smile crossed her face for a second as she wondered why her parents kept her away from such a happy place, her feet moved faster than her mind and before she knew it; Dal-rae had crossed over into “The Heavens”.

It felt different inside the market, more energized but also so draining. Dal-rae had never felt so driven before but also so tired and sad, she drug her feet forward and fell to her knees in front of one of the Goddesses.

“Please!” The woman cried. “Please grant me a wish, I’ll do anything for you.”

Her hands reached out, her mind too clouded to think reasonably and her hands clasped onto the Goddess’s dress. It went silent and those around the two gasped, the mortals whispering to each other as the Gods were frozen too scared to approach the distraught woman or furious Goddess.

“You dare to touch me moral?” The Goddess spat out and tried to pull her dress from the woman’s hands

Dal-rae didn’t let go, “I beg of you, I’ve done everything right.”

She clung on for dear life and a circle cleared around them. Everyone was sure there was fire in the Goddess’s eyes, as her jaw clenched tightly. Women covered the children’s eyes sure that this was the last they would see of the woman.

“Get off me, you don’t deserve to touch me.” She brought her hand back and hit the woman, it was hard enough to push Dal-rae off of her but she just continued to beg for the Goddess’s help. “I’ll give you anything you want, money, servitude, my family. Please.”

The Goddess opened her mouth to bark something at the woman but another voice called from the crowd. “Jowangshin.”

The deep voice made everyone jump except Dal-rae who was now on her knees and crying into the ground. The crowd parted like the seas and a man walked into the middle, his gaze piercing as he glared at the Goddess. More people started whispering as they saw Mireuk, he stopped in front of Jowangshin.

“What is going on?” He asked

“Didn’t you see her, she grabbed me.” She hissed but Mireuk stepped closer to her. “That is your job, you comfort humans and grant their wish.”

“Then you do it.”

Dal-rae felt a hand on her shoulder, and slowly she sat up looking at the person. A smile covered her face as she saw another God.

“What is wrong my child?” He asked softly, the woman brought her hands up begging the God. “Please grant me a wish.”

“And what is that?”

“Please give me a child, my husband won’t look at me and I’m an outcast in my own village.” She cried before wiping away her tears

The God let out a sigh, he was stuck with a predicament. He had to make a deal with her, that was his whole job but the woman was so broken. She had no one, the man she had been married to wasn’t even there for her and she had been ostracized from her village.

“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll grant you your wish.” Dal-rae et out a sigh at his words almost jumping forward and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you so much, you are a powerful God.”

“But-“ He said pushing the woman back. “If it is a boy, he will inherit his father’s anger and hatred. But if it a girl- are you sure you want this?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll loose what you value the most.”

9 months later, Dal-rae wish was granted. Haneul was born healthy but her mother fell into a sickness, bedridden and unable to take care of the newborn so the job fell onto Yong-sam. He found it hard and uncomfortable at first, unsure how to take care of a baby along with his usual routine but as she grew he found a way. Yong-sam tried to teach Haneul as his son, shamed that he had a daughter instead of a son.

“Hold your sword up Haneul.” The young girl held up the stick she was using as a sword. It was bigger than her and felt like twice her weight

Her arms felt tired from picking it up and holding it over and over again for what felt like a hour. Yong-sam gave a smile before going on with his lesson.

“Now you never want to hold it-“ Haneul zoned out as she stared off, she tried to listen but what her father was talking about was boring

She stared off, watching as the other children ran off. They squealed and laughed as they played, chasing after each other. It looked like fun.

“Pay attention.” Yong-sam hit the back of his daughter’s head, “you need to know how to hold a sword if you want to use one.”

Haneul rubbed the back of her head and looked back at her father, he picked up his own and showed Haneul who followed his lead. The man continued with the basics and Haneul just followed along, every once in a while looking over at the kids playing.

One of the girls stopped, facing Haneul. She laughed and smiled, holding up her hand and beckoned for Haneul to come play. She smiled back at the other girl, know her well and wanting to play.

“I want you to hit me Haneul.” Yong-sam’s voice pull Haneul into the present. “As hard as you can and with good form.”

The young girl tightened her hands around the stick and lifted it up. Haneul groaned and wobbled a bit before running up to her father and pushing the stick forward, it barely moved and did nothing to her father. He gave a laugh as he pushed the stick away and watched the young girl pant.

“You call that hitting? I want you to try with all your might.” He egged her on

Haneul shook her head and took a breath, “dad, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t think sword fighting is for me, can I go play?”

Yong-sam’s expression changed, he clenched his jaw as his eyes glared down at his daughter. He was stupid for thinking of training Haneul as a son, she would always be a daughter and wouldn’t bring anything but shame to him.

“Fine, go on.” He spat and Haneul smiled racing off to see her friend

Yong-sam wanted a child that wouldn’t bring him shame and Haneul wanted someone to understand her. Neither would get what they wanted, at least not in this lifetime.

••••

“Next time can you find someone who can actually help me?”

“What do you mean? Didn’t Yeosang help you?”

Haneul rolled her eyes, “no he didn’t, he just told me about another guy who can help me. Something called a Dokkaebi I don’t know what that is.”

Hongjoong let out a laugh, he had many run in with Dokkaebi, they were fun because of how mischievous they were. He had so many fun memories because of Dokkaebi’s but they also were mean.

“What are you laughing at?” Haneul eyed the Demon but he just shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I didn’t even know a Demon could laugh, I always thought they were just cackle menacingly.” Haneul told Hongjoong as they walked back down the path

“And I didn’t think Gods had feelings.” The Demon crossed his arms but Haneul held her finger up. “Ah not a god.”

He rolled his eyes and mumbled, “yeah you’re just a human now.”

Haneul stopped and turned to the Demon about to say something when a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away. San pulled the girl away from Hongjoong, his big hands clamped on her shoulders.

“Are you okay? Did anything happen?” He bombarded her with question, Haneul just laughed and placed her hand on his. “San I’m fine, I’m glad you’re worrying about me. Can we just go home.”

She bent down and slowly picked up the umbrella, the rain had lightened up but San was drenched. Haneul smiled at him and turned away, getting into the car.

“Don’t look so eager San, your puppy is showing.” Hongjoong walked past San, and opened the car door

San let out a growl and got into the driver seat, the car sped down the road and back into town. It looked better than it had that morning, San lagged at bit behind the Demon and Haneul.

“Had he really been asleep for a hundred years?” She asked and Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah, last time he had seen the city cars were becoming big.”

“Wah, image how weird that be going to sleep when cars were barely a thing and waking up when you have so much knowledge in the palm of your hand.” She giggled and looked back at San. “Right San.”

“Yeah.” He answered and pushed past them, walking up to the door of his cafe

He pulled his keys out but when he grabbed the door, it opened. His eyebrows furrowed as San got ready to fight whoever was stupid enough to steal from a werewolf, his hand opened up and his claw grew. Hongjoong pushed Haneul behind him as the two men walked in.

“Finally some damn service.” A voice spat out

“Who are you?” San saw the man sitting in his cafe, Hongjoong stood by San making a wall in front of Haneul

The unknown man stood up, “someone called for a Dokkaebi.”

Haneul’s eyes went wide as she perked up, her feet pulled her up to the men as she looked around them.

“That was me.” She said and the two men relaxed, San closed his hand hiding his claws. “Yeosang said that a Dokkaebi could help.”

“We have to hurry, I’m kinda wanted by Mireuk.” He said and Haneul gasped almost running up to him. “Do you know the gods?”

Wooyoung stepped backwards, making some space between them. “You know who you’re talking to, unlike those two over there I have a creator that I work for.”

“Yeah Seokga-“ Hongjoong stopped San before he could say anymore. Haneul glared back at San. “Can you help me. I need to get to the gods.”

“I could help you but why should I?” He asked and crossed his arms, Hongjoong was the one to step forward. “Because I’m sure there’ll be some mischief along the way, and no Dokkaebi would be willing to say no.”

The Goblin opened and closed his mouth, Hongjoong and San smiled knowing they had cornered him. Wooyoung gulped, they were right he sure did love mischief.

“How about we talk over some food.” Haneul said begging, needing the help from the gods and this Goblin was the only thing standing in her way

“Yes!” He answered. “A plate of buckwheat jelly, Sorghum and red bean rice cakes would be nice.”

Haneul founded herself sitting, on the edge of her seat, in front of the Goblin watching as he shoved food into his mouth. The smell of buckwheat and red bean filled the cafe, San walked out from behind the counter and placed a plate of red bean cakes on the table. Wooyoung smiled and thanked the werewolf through a mouthful of food.

“So how do you know Yeosang?” Hongjoong asked standing away from the others. Wooyoung looked up. “We’re friends or well we were friends. Since he couldn’t use his powers outside of the forest, he relied on me. That was before he met you.”

The man glared over at Hongjoong before going back to eating, he smiled as he shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth. Haneul became impatient and so she blurted out:

“Can you find the gods?” Wooyoung froze as he looked back up at Haneul. “Didn’t I just tell you I’m wanted by Mireuk.”

Haneul leaned back and huffed out, “I wouldn’t think that would stop a Dokkaebi.”

The metal chopsticks fell from his hand and clattered on the plate. “What for? Why do you need them?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to a Goblin.” She hissed out angering the man more. “Fine but it’ll take a couple of days.”

“What!” Haneul yelled out. “I can’t wait a couple days, can’t you just teleport to wherever they are.”

“If that was possible then why don’t you.” Wooyoung stood up yelling back at the woman. “If it was so easy why did you want my help or Yeosang’s huh?”

“Shut up, just shut up.” Haneul slammed her hands against the table as her eyes filled with tears

She got up and turned, rushing out of the shop as San and Hongjoong yelled after her but Haneul just continued forward. She wanted to be alone or drunk or asleep, Haneul just didn’t want to be here right now. Her hands flew up to her face as she wiped the tears falling from her eyes.

••••

The music was enough to drown out Haneul’s feelings but the alcohol was just a bonus. She swayed to the music, letting herself get lost as she continued sipping on her drink. Haneul usually wouldn’t be caught dead in a club or anyplace with loud music and alcohol. That’s where the Gods hung out and Haneul never considered herself a god but that was before her life was shaved down to 27 days.

Her heart raced and her head was fuzzy, but she wasn’t drunk and was barely tipsy. The stupid memory from that Goblin weighed on her mind, and her mind refused to blackout. Between the memories of her old life and the wild goose chase for her powers, Haneul just wanted to live as a human for her last couple of days. So she took another shot and found herself on the dance floor.

This place was Hongjoong’s home, it’s where his powers thrived and he seemed to be more alive. His eyes darted around the club, eyeing some girls as his body screamed for him to relax and chase after those girls. His mind told him otherwise, find Haneul and he groaned every time he remembered. If his past self had seen him now chasing after a human girl, he would’ve been livid but the Demon justified it as his survival. Hongjoong felt like he was babysitting Haneul but it was for his survival, Hongjoong had to make sure she was safe so that he was safe.

The Demon pushed through the crowd, hissing under his breath about how this was stupid. The crowd cleared for a second and Hongjoong saw Haneul, she stood in the middle of the floor jumping and dancing around. He was frozen for a second, she seemed like she was having fun something that was…unusual for Haneul. Ever since he had met her, the woman never seemed like the type to let loose and just have fun. Hongjoong almost didn’t want to stop her fun and just watch her but he shook the thought out of his head.

“Haneul!” He called her name as he got closer to her. “Haneul, let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand, pulling her from her clouded mind but she pulled back. “No, leave me alone.”

Hongjoong sighed, from the slurring of her words and the reek of alcohol told all that he needed. “How many drinks have you had?”

“Not enough to make me not remember your nagging voice.” She answered basically yelling over the music. He really did feel like a babysitter. “You can’t just fall into alcohol to ease the pain.”

She let out a laugh, “you’re sounding like San now, I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” Haneul hissed before hitting his shoulder and walking off into the crowd

He let out another low groan as his hands clenched into fist, reminding himself that he couldn’t do anything but protect her. Hongjoong turned around, as Haneul disappeared into the crowd, and chased after her. Finalized he found the woman standing over at the bar, his eyes wide as he saw what she was about to drink.

“Thank you.” He said as he pulled the nectar from her hands. Haneul glared at the Demon. “Are you trying to kill yourself? You can’t have nectar as a human.”

She clicked her tongue before spitting out. “it’s better than just waiting to die. Why do you care anyways.”

“I can’t lose the person keeping me alive.”

“Stop saying that to me! You don’t love me, it’s just one of your tricks. Just leave me alone.”

Haneul pushed past the Demon again, stumbling towards the door and out into the night. She fell onto a bench close by as tears clouded her vision, Haneul never wanted it to end this way but she guessed she would never get her happy ending. The woman stared up at the sky, looking up at the stars always calmed Haneul but she couldn’t help but let the tears pour.

“Do you like watching me suffer? Why do you keep on following me?” Haneul sighed not even looking over at the Demon to know that he was there. Hongjoong just laughed. “You won’t like the answer.”

“Can’t you leave a dying Goddess in peace?”

“Ha you finally admit you’re a Goddess?”

“No I just- it’s uh just. I’ma go back inside-“

Haneul was cut off as the Demon moved, he got down on his knee’s in front of her. His eyes almost seemed to shine with love and happiness and the sight made the fuzziness in her head disappear and reappear in her stomach.

“Let me take you home, you’re in no shape to go out.” He said softly with a smile

Haneul had weird feeling in her gut, something new and unusual. Hongjoong knew that he was obligated to protect Haneul but there was nothing explicitly stated about falling in love.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagine #ateez san #hongjoong #magic #mythical creatures

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paganimagevault · 2 years

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"Funerary altar of Iulia Victorina. Marble. Last quarter of the 1st century CE. The altar is dedicated to the en:manes of Iulia Victorina dead at 10 years and 5 months old. Purchase 1863. Louvre museum (Paris, France). Portrait on the front of the 10 year old girl at her death, garlanded in a floral frame, and on the back as the young matrona she would never become. Trees on each (side). Color by @chapps on twitter.

While Julia Victorina is only one child in the unhappy statistic that half of all Roman children died by the age of ten, her death in the last quarter of the 1st century CE is personalized by the unique and costly monument her parents set up in her memory. With this elegant altar, now in the Louvre Museum in Paris, Gaius Julius Saturninus and Lucilia Procula, who are otherwise unknown by rank, ancestry, or situation, memorialized their grief and hopes for a young daughter taken from them prematurely. The monument would have been placed in a family tomb and held a cinerary urn containing the child's ashes. It is a rectangular block of white marble, elaborately carved on all four sides and crowned by a marble cover gracefully decorated with motifs (mouldings, volutes, and blossoms) that echo those carved on the front and back of the lower stone. The front of the altar bears the dedicatory inscription and features a portrait bust in high relief of the lovely face of a girl, framed by a wide border of acanthus leaves and variegated flowers, symbols in the Mediterranean world of eternal life. Julia Victorina, gazing pensively off to her right, wears ball-shaped pendent earrings, probably of gold; her shoulders are draped, her hair is styled almost boyishly and is crowned by a crescent moon, at once a symbol of eternity and association with Diana in her role as the moon-Goddess. On the back of the altar she appears again, similarly framed with botanicals, but now as a young matrona, as her parents had hoped in a few years to enjoy her; her face is solemn and thinner but recognizable as the child she was. She looks directly at the viewer, wearing the married woman's stola, a palla draped over one shoulder and the same pendent earrings; her hair is arranged in a more matronly style, topped by a radiate crown that symbolizes her apotheosis in the heavens and her immortality. The short sides of the altar are decorated with a flourishing laurel tree, an evergreen sacred to Apollo, God of the sun; within its branches hover two birds, possibly ravens, his sacred bird, seen here together with laurel-crowned Apollo in his shrine. This extraordinary altar, with its portrait busts and floral designs promising immortality, offers moving testimony to the grief of Victorina's parents over the loss of a beloved child. The dedicatory inscription is crowded into the space below the child’s bust, which awkwardly divides the girl's cognomen. The words are written in square capitals over five lines of diminishing size, with prominence given to the Di Manes and the girl's name. The letters are well formed and centered, with medial dots (interpuncts) separating the words in lines 3-6.

Latin:

D[is] M[anibus] IVLIAE VIC TORINAE QVAE• VIX[it]• ANN[is] • X• MENS[ibus]• V• C[aius]• IVLIVS• SATVRNINVS• ET LVCILIA• PROCVLA• PARENTES FILIAE• DVLCISSIMAE• FECERVNT

English:

To the spirits of the dead

Julia Victorina

Who lived for ten years and five months

Gaius Julius Saturninus and

Lucilia Procula

Parents of this sweetest daughter

Had this monument made

Notes to Funerary Inscription for Victorina: Di Manes, m. pl. the collective spirits of the dead, the divine spirits. DM is a common abbreviation for the dedication of a funerary monument to the spirits of the dead and thus is in the dative case. These letters or the words they stand for are regularly found at the head of funerary inscriptions dating from the end of the 1st century BCE through the 2nd century CE. Iulia, -ae f. Julia is the proper name of women born into the gens Iulia. Victorina appears to have inherited the nomen gentilicium from her father. The name of the deceased is either in the dative case as the dedicatee of the inscription, or the genitive as the possessor of the DM. Victorina, -ae f. The dead girl's cognomen. menses, menses m. month. Both annis and mensibus are ablatives of time following vixit. Some inscriptions included days as well. Saturninus, -i m. The cognomen of Victorina's father is found during the Republic and the Empire. There was a centurian named Gaius Iulius Saturninus who came from Chios and served under the Flavians in a unit of Spaniards in Egypt, but no firm connection can be made. Lucilia, -ae f. Lucilia is the proper name of women born into the gens Lucilia; Victorina's mother's cognomen is Procula. parens, -entis m./f. parent. It is in the nominative plural, in apposition with Saturninus and Procula, who are the subjects of the verb fecerunt. dulcis, -e sweet, lovely, dear, kind. The adjective is in the superlative degree. It modifies filiae; both are in the dative case, in apposition with Iuliae Victorinae. [hoc monumentum] this phrase normally follows the verb of dedication (fecit/fecerunt) in funerary inscriptions. Monumentum is the regular word for a Roman tombstone. Sometimes the entire formula is omitted as unnecessary or for lack of space or money."

-taken from feminaeromanae, vroma, and wikipedia

More pictures and sources on my blog: https://paganimagevault.blogspot.com/2022/05/funerary-altar-of-iulia-victorina-1st-c.html

#ancient rome #roman statue #pagan #paganism #apollo #artemis #funerary art #european art #roman art #ancient art #italy #archaeology #reconstruction #art #ancient history #art history #1st century

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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

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quiet fury in your head - [i]

Note: I’m wild for this one, gang. I haven’t read the comics, nor have I watched the bonus 11th episode, but I simply couldn’t get this tumblrsexyman out of my head after finishing the series. Just a heads up—I’ve done some research about Celtic Gods, but nothing exorbitant, and I’m playing the timeline fast and loose. Additionally, I know “The Fates” in the show kind of embodied ‘The Morrigan’, but it’s fanfic so I do what I want x)

The term “God” is used in a gender-neutral way.

General Tags for All Parts: no use of Y/N, mixed POV, slowburn, toxic-ish relationship (they’re both immortal, petty beings what do u expect), possessiveness, canon typical violence, angst, inception-style dream stuff, pining for fucking centuries.

Warnings: 18+/Explicit – contains sexual content in future chapters/Minors DNI.

Pairing: Dream/Morpheus x F!WarGoddessReader

Terms to Know/Pronunciation Guide: (source)

Badb – “Bive.” (Like five, but with a ‘B’) | Dagda – “Dag-duh” | Lugh – “Loo” | Macha – “Makh-uh/Mock-uh” (a hard ‘c’ instead of soft) | Nemain – “Ney-van” the Otherworld – the dwelling place of the Celtic Gods, supernatural entities, and spirits.

(Read on Ao3) || (masterpost for other chapters)

As of 9/10: Fic has been edited to reflect present tense, some lines changed, also dream’s POV now says “you” to refer to reader instead of she/her.

*******

You step onto the moor, damp grass spongy and pliant beneath your feet, and eye the opposing war camps with keen, narrowed eyes. They are the eyes of a bird. The eyes of a God. Trails of smoke from their cookfires waft into the overcast, blue-gray clouds, that roll across the hills with impending rain. A faint taste of copper thickens on your tongue.

Your sister steps beside you, silent and pensive. The light, smoke-tinged breeze pulls at the fine wisps of her blazing red hair around her temples. Her stomach is rounded with an impending birth. She rests her hands upon it and her gold rings sparkle despite lack of sunlight. A low, cool mist swirls at your feet.

Macha says, “The offerings have started.”

“I know.” You tilt your head to the side, listening on the wind, to their hymns and songs. One army offered you a sheep’s liver (that explained the blood resting on your tongue) and the other had thrown several bronze spears into the bog last night. It was your blessing that determined the fate of these men. You are the Queen of Battle, of Courage, and Fury and Madness. You are their victory and their doom.

A raven swoops overhead and lands on a low hanging branch. You sense, in the way of God’s knowing, that this is your eldest sister – Badb. You were the Battle. She was the Aftermath.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps. It would start soon. You feel the Men’s blood thundering in their hearts. You inhale deeply and smell their sweat—fear and anticipation—and the wet earth they slept upon. The wind stirs, pulling at your black cloak, and nipping at your exposed forearms.

“Nemain.” Macha speaks again, “You know how I hate to see Our People fight amongst themselves. ‘Tis a travesty to see them spill blood over petty squabbles of land that belongs to All.”

You smile to yourself. “I sense you are asking for a favor, dear sister.”

Her copper and golden flecked eyes soften while looking at you. “If the battle be quick, and deaths merciful, I will honor you.”

The Men move through the hills and the air charges with newfound electricity. You unclasp the silver-raven’s head that fastens your cloak to your shoulders. It vanishes and reveals the swirling, blue-black tattoos along your arms. You love your siblings. You spent eons with them. You are three-parts of an equal whole. Macha is protection, life, and light. Badb is death, transformation, and foresight. You are the hot-blooded nature of passion, the fierce power of courage, and headrush of victory. This was your nature. You are not an oak tree with its leaves changing with every season.

This is the reason why you regard your sister coolly and smile without humor. “I can make no such promises.”

In a shroud of mist, you disappear from your hillside to stand within the middle of the battlefield. The thunderous footsteps and roars of Men fill your eardrums. They cannot see you. But they feel you. You open your arms and expand your influence across the fresh battlefield.

You scream as the first peal of thunder echoes through the bulbous, dark-gray clouds. An omen. A blessing.

The rain sluices down your skin in droves of cold water, though you cannot feel its temperature amidst the hot blood that splatters in silent, secret offering to you. You are Fury. You are Rage. You are Terrible and Terrifying.

And perhaps, most of all, you are Alive. The thrill and pulsing intensity of battle embolden your powers. You focus on their fear, stoking the flames of terror, and spurn a few warriors to run only to have their bodies run through with spears.

In the distance, your sisters hear your crazed, delighted laughter.

Interlopers of false faith land on your shores and brandish heavy armor and steel swords. They bully and threaten and execute in the middle of village squares. You tease the edges of paranoia with a gentle, clawed hand and it inspires many of your followers to hide their effigies or abandon their homes.

Yet, it is not enough. You feel your powers waning.

Macha and Dagda concern themselves with trying to protect the land from these invaders. And you will not stoop so low to ask them for help. Though she is your sister, you still have your pride. You will uncover another way to replenish your strength. You will not let these heretics burn your people—especially if they are offering these deaths to another God.

It is uncouth of them to sacrifice to False Gods while on your land.

Like your sisters, you are the Queen of Ravens. You walk between realms with ease. It is not difficult, of course, because the Realms are layered and folded atop one another like a tempered sword.

Dagda, your Chief of Gods, warns against entering realms without permission. Personally, you feel Dagda and Macha worry too much. Your footsteps are light, your presence as unassuming as a spider on its web, and the Lord of the Dreaming will be none the wiser to your visit.

In your raven form, you perch along a windowsill and peer at the sleeping form of The Invader. He is asleep and vulnerable like a babe in the cradle. You stretch your wings and fly to the thatched rooftop, circling it once, before landing.

No sooner had your claws touched the long reeds do you feel the vertigo sensation of dropping into another’s dream.

You find yourself within a stone building illuminated by flickering, shifting candlelight. Good. Shadows are helpful. You stretch the shadows and drape them across the rafters like seaweed.

The Invader is crouched before a weeping statue and muttering to himself. The fragrant, perfumed air singes your nostrils. You roll your neck to prepare yourself. A motion you have seen The Humans do prior to sparring or lovemaking.

You lightly press against the membrane of Dreaming Essence. It gives beneath your touch like soft, spongy sand. Show me. You intone, Give unto me your Fear.

Your physical form takes shape like clay. Your bones crack and shift beneath your skin; your teeth elongate within your mouth. The transformation completes at the same moment The Invader stops his incessant, foolish muttering.

He turns slowly and his eyes widen. The taste of his fear is the sweetest, most intoxicating wine on your tongue. Your eyes momentarily roll back into your head, and he gasps, and resumes his panicked and sudden prayers. You will manipulate these Interlopers from the Dreaming. You will scare them away from your lands.

You bring yourself to an impossible, towering height. Your flickering shadow looms over him. He grabs something—a necklace--from within his shirt and holds it aloft. It does not dissuade you. Trinkets and baubles are no more than playthings to you. You are a God. You are impervious to his idiocy.

“S-stay back! Devil!”

“Trespasser!” You hiss, before wrapping your fingers around his throat, and squeezing. Your long, sharp fingernails dig into the throbbing artery below his jaw. His fear morphs into full-blown panic, and he thrashes against your supernatural grip.

You smile, fang-toothed, at the waves of dread radiating from him. They are—you admit—less exciting and less potent than those you’d taste in the Waking Realm. You feel his desire to wake himself from this nightmare. It is too soon. Your message is not complete. You exert your will against the Dreaming and stop him from waking. You will not release him until you accomplish your goal and send all these rotten Men back to their homelands.

You snarl into his face, “Leave.”

His watering eyes bulge from their sockets. His mouth froths with saliva like a frightened mare. You exhale roughly through your nostrils and candlelight snuffs out and douses the room to darkness.

“Leave this place.” You demand, your voice growing stronger, “or I will drive you to madness.” It is spoken like a promise. One that you fully intend to keep.

Dream feels the disturbance – as the Dreaming is a much as him as he is of it – and at first it had been so subtle that he thought it was one of his creations returning. Then, something ripples outward, dark as oil and black as night.

He dons his helm. It is normal to experience influxes of panic and terror when his Nightmares reveal humanity’s flaws. However, this fear is foreign.

He knows the energy and vibration of his Nightmares. He knows, at any given moment, where they are within the Dreaming. Whatever this is—it’s an invasion of some kind.

He finds himself in a place of worship. It is hazy with fragrant incense and its stained-glass windows depict a woman weeping blood.

The multi-colored light fractures behind the stranger. It is the source of this disturbance. Your dreadful and nightmarish shape is lit in an iridescent display of crimson, emerald, and sapphire. It is beautiful and terrifying. Your forehead curls with horns, your lush mouth full of fangs, your naked body glistening with sweat as two black, sleek feathered wings protrude from your shoulder blades. A demon? A succubus? How does a demon enter the Dreaming without his knowledge? He seethes with cold, protective rage.

His jaw clenches. He lifts his palm, pulling the Dreamer out of your grasp, and returns him to the Waking World.

You whirl upon him, blinking at him with two eyes that are pure starlight, before your form reverts to something of normalcy. He thinks you must do this to try and relate to him. If he appeared to you a monster, then he expects you would have remained in your macabre image. The horns and fangs vanish, nakedness covering itself with a dress of black feathers, though your neck and shoulders remain bare in swirling, knotted tattoos.

You tilt your head to the side and regard him without malice or aggression. “Ah, I was too loud it seems.” You slowly blink those galaxy-wrought eyes, “My apologizes, Dream Lord.”

“Name yourself.” He demands callously. He is Lord here, ruler incarnate, and you are a stranger. A criminal.

“My sisters and I are known as The Morrigan.” You explain without expression. “Although I am called Nemain among other things.”

His back stiffens, “You are not a Dream.” He knows of the Morrigan. It is one person, one entity, but you speak as if you are independent from your sisters. Still, you should not—could not—be here. How did you enter the Dreaming? It is impossible and infuriating.

“Yes, I am.”

“I did not create you.”

You reply, “No. Humanity did.” You run your hand across the wooden pew, fingers long and elegant, a silver ring set with a single, jet-black stone rests on your middle finger.

“What are Gods but the dreams of Men? They dream of victory, of glory, of courage and hope again and again and eventually that dream needs a face. It needs a name and a ritual to call upon Her. And thus, we are born, in the minds of Men and brought to life.”

Dream narrows his eyes. He considers your words. You hold power. He feels it rippling from you. Yet, this is the Dreaming. This is his place. He holds all the power here. He should punish you. He will. It will not do to have Gods walking in and out of the Dreaming as they please. They have rules and rules are meant to be obeyed. The cosmic axis will knock out of alignment, sending everyone and everything into oblivion, if rules are not followed.

He is Dream of the Endless. He came at the beginning of all things. He is an ancient and older than this young God before him. You are only a few hundred years old. He feels it through the pulse of your magic intertwining within the Dreaming’s fabric. You are a mere speck of cosmic dust, a morning glory doomed to die at dawn. You do not – and cannot - hold the same power as he.

“You are not a true Dream. You do not live here, you were not born here, and therefore should not enter my realm uninvited. You do not belong.” He says this without infliction, or cruelty, stating them for what they are: facts.

Your composed expression morphs in quick succession like fire catching on dry wood.

Rage flares within your eyes, “It is so simple for you to say when you are not the one dying and watching your siblings grow weak and your followers be slaughtered like beasts of burden with a lame leg!”

Your wrath burns, alighting your features, and he feels it simmering off the Dreaming in waves of heat. The empty candle wicks snap to life, erupting the small chapel in glowing light, and Dream clutches for his ruby necklace at his throat.

He cannot destroy you like an ordinary dream—like one of his creations. But he can trap you, imprison you, to teach you a lesson about entering realms uninvited.

You scoff, expression contemptuous, before vanishing from the Dreaming in a burst of screeching ravens. Dream lifts his arms to block their wings and talons as they fly up into the wooden rafters. It is time for a visit the library. He will read all he can about this ‘Morrigan’ before facing you again.

After being chastised and threatened by the Dream Lord, you return to the Otherworld to find your sister, Badb. You plan to implore her to teach shapeshifting beyond a simple raven. If you cannot invoke madness within dreaming, then you will invoke it in the waking world.

You find her near a cliffside with the dark wine ocean churning and crashing against slick, black rocks. A few of the dark feathers of your dress are swept by the wind and drift off to the foamy sea. Despite her young face, Badb’s inky-black hair is flecked with gray, and her hands are knotted and weathered with black cuticles smudging her long, pointed nails.

“He will be your undoing, sister.” Badb says the moment you sit beside her on a large, damp rock. Something inside your chest flutters like wings before flight.

“I know not of whom you speak.”

Badb’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “Lying to a Seer is impossible.”

“Yet I try.”

You conjure a bowl of animal innards into your lap and pluck the red, bloody pieces with your fingertips before tossing them at the murder of crows by your feet. They squabble and caw, wings flapping, and dark beaks snapping at the meat as it flies through the air. They are pesky, dramatic little beasties.

You say, “My undoing will come before the rest. These Trespassers smash our idols and murder our People.”

In the back of your skull, you feel the call to battle. They will call upon you in their wars against the Invaders. And as their God, you will answer. It is your duty and your fate. It is your singular purpose that blots out all other desires like an eclipse.

“Everything ends.” Badb utters cryptically and unhelpfully. “Even Gods.”

You clench your fists.

“No. It will not. I will not accept this Fate, sister, and I am heartbroken to see that you are resigned to it. I will drive out these Trespassers. I will burn their stone temples. I will imprison their False God. I will see them killed.”

You place a hand over your heart, in the way you’ve seen Humans do before pledging themselves to their King. “I vow this.”

Badb’s listless gaze slithers to you. Her irises are gray, her pupils’ narrowed slits. “Speak to Lugh. He has asked for you. You will find him feasting the warrior’s hall.”

“Before I speak to Lugh, I ask that you teach me something—the manner of which you transform into a beast.”

Her lips quirk into a semblance of a smile. A sense of trepidation and excitement illuminate inside your stomach. As sisters three, you ought to have the same powers, but Badb excels at shapeshifting just as Macha excels at urging the plants to grow.

“As you wish it, Queen of Demons.” Badb reaches toward your face and touches her forefinger and middle finger against your temple. The knowledge is passed to you, and you bow your head in silent thanks.

“She called herself Nemain.” Dream states to Lucienne while browsing the impressive stacks. “And The Morrigan.” He could not shake the sight of your face. Serene, then wrathful, teeming with unknown power and regal arrogance. If you had not been an intruder to the Dreaming, then he may have warranted himself to be in awe of you.

Lucienne offers him an impressive volume, “She’s a Goddess of war.”

Dream flips through the yellowed pages with a furrowed brow. He mutters to himself, “Why was she here?”

Lucienne clasps her hands behind her back, “If I may, Lord?”

Dream nods for her to continue.

“Perhaps her motivation was to try and save her family? The accounts within that book thus far describe an awful massacre of their culture and way of life.”

Humanity. For eons, they look to the stars and create stories, many of those stories living inside the Dreaming. And in their desperation to understand, to cope with the impossibility of the universe, and the life it grants—there are those who will not accept other’s beliefs and will commit their lives to the destruction of it. The book shows an illustration of three women. Your image is on the left, holding a spear, your face contorted in a scream – whether it was of anguish or triumph he cannot say.

“By whom?” He runs his fingertips across the text. His thumb unintentionally grazes along your jaw.

“It’s two-fold, I’m afraid.” Lucienne frowns. “An outside influence and a betrayal.”

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