#what kind of peace do they have that i will never know?

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst, pining, injury

a/n: I appreciate thoughts and reactions more than you know!!! <333 Italics indicate flashbacks.

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The next two weeks were interesting. 

In the first few days after the accident—the ones filled with confusion and incorrect suspicions—you had spent most of your time alone or sleeping. Mor visited your bedroom every morning to share limited information about your past, but there was no routine beyond that. Everyone tiptoed around you, too afraid to set off the timebomb they assumed was your mind.

But Helion had disputed that assumption. 

You were allowed to know who you were, to become the person you had been. 

So, a routine began to form. 

Breakfast early in the morning, usually with a random assortment of the inner circle. Mor was always present, keeping up with her responsibility of telling you about yourself. Cassian joined more often than not—an early riser, he deemed himself. Azriel made it when he could. He was always busy in the morning. Doing… something, everyone told you.

Rhysand would join you after the meal, whisking you away for an hour or two to work on the powers you still could not call upon. He would have a different objective in mind every day and it was your job to parse out what it was. 

You failed. 

Obviously. 

He started bringing in random Velaris citizens instead, but you still felt nothing. It was nice to see the smiling strangers; they were all kind to you, all apparently knowing who you were. The vagueness surrounding them leveled the playing field more. They didn’t know your whole life story and you weren’t supposed to know theirs. 

“You’ve explained it to me before,” Rhysand had said. “It’s a vibration, sometimes a light or a color. You see it around them, feel it. You understand a deep part within them that they don’t even know they’re revealing.” 

Well, there was never any light or vibration or color. You could never tell that the fae were lying or that Rhysand was planning something big for his anniversary with his mate. None of this otherworldly intuition that the Night Court seemed to value so highly. It was all just stagnant. 

After spending some time failing with Rhys, you got to explore Velaris. You had insisted that you didn’t need a chaperone, and your family believed you—for a time. You had three whole days of walking around the city alone before that privilege was revoked.

Granted, it was your fault that it was revoked, but that was neither here nor there. 

It hadn’t been your plan to get lost, just as it hadn’t been your plan to get caught up in a street brawl over a cart of potatoes. But when you weren’t at the designated meeting spot for Cassian to bring you back up the house, and when he found you with a bleeding nose an hour later, what you meant to do didn’t matter. 

“Y/n?” you heard a voice shout, heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath you. “Shit—y/n, look at me, you okay?” 

Warm hands enveloped your shaking ones, drawing them back and catching sight of the red staining your fingerprints. It was Cassian, you realized, with his broad wings cloaking you in their shadow. The General’s expression hardened when he took in your face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low, comfort combatting fury. “Where have you been? We have about 10 people looking for you, sweetheart.” 

You grimaced—both at the pain in your nose and the notion of your family scouring the streets of Velaris. “I’m so, so sorry, Cassian. I got turned around and then I was in this alley and there was a boy—” 

“Hey!” Defeat washed through you at the sound of another voice in the alley, all hopes for a peaceful return home washed away. “Is your girlfriend over there gonna pay for the product I lost?” 

The Illyrian before you paused, body going still at the accusatory tone. Cassian’s jaw clenched and he turned, keeping you well behind him. You still caught a glimpse of the scene from between his legs, and the merchant—to his credit—had the mind to stop his taunting. 

And to look afraid. 

Really, truly afraid. 

“You did this to her?” Cassian growled, fists clenching at his sides. 

The merchant swallowed. “You’re—and she’s…” 

“Did you. Do this. To her?” Cassian asked again, words broken up by malice. 

A beat of pressing silence, only whispers of the street meeting your ears. The merchant took several, shaky steps back, but the movement damned him. His hands swayed with his backtracking feet, and red glistened on his knuckles. 

Cassian’s wings flared at the sight. It only took a small uptick of his brow for the smaller man to fall to the floor in a plea. 

“Please, please don’t kill me! I didn’t know who she was. Don’t turn me over to the Shadowsinger, I won’t make it! I have a family to care for—a wife! I was only trying to protect my crops and she butted in. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

The General hooked his chin over his shoulder and sent you a questioning gaze, one you were sheepish to answer. With a harrowing breath, you revealed, “There was a little boy stealing potatoes. He was going to hit him. I stepped in the way.” 

A tug at your chest had you gasping as Cassian turned back around. The feeling had been persistent the moment you got lost, increasing after you’d been implicated in the merchant’s conflict. It pulled and pulled, a desperate winding around your ribs that you didn’t know how to relieve. 

It had to have been fear. Or stress. 

Cassian eyed the man crumpled to the floor. “Is the boy okay?” he asked, the question meant for you but directed across the alley. 

“Yes,” you confirmed, pressing your hand to the blood running down your chin. “He ran away.” 

Cassian grunted, sent a harsh warning to the man, and then crouched back down to your place on the ground, shaking his head in frustration. “Let’s get you home.” And then he grumbled, “I might get my ass kicked but…” 

Cassian had not gotten his ass kicked when you got home, but many other things happened. Mor just about cried in relief, her arms thrown around your neck followed by a string of commands to never do such a thing again. Rhys rubbed at his jaw as tension lifted from the House. He also had a command—that you wouldn’t be traveling alone anymore. 

And Azriel… Azriel looked like he would vomit, his shadows flitting angrily around him before bridging a path to you. He had cleaned the blood from your face, eyes haunted by misplaced grief, and pure guilt replaced all else in your myriad of emotions. 

You agreed an escort would be better. 

Azriel volunteered. Every day. 

And so you got to know Azriel. 

Mor had described him as reserved, not one to offer the intimacy of touch or personal information so readily. That was not your experience with the Shadowsinger. 

Fleeting touches had become commonplace between the two of you, whether it was his hands or his wings or the brush of his thigh as you sat by the Sidra. You weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, but you welcomed the familiarity. You found he did it most when he wasn’t paying attention—when he was deep into a story about your past or listening to your opinions intently. 

He was open, sharing pieces of himself you didn’t have to pry to receive. He told you about his mother, about his scars, about how he overcame them. He shared with you how important you were to him many, many times, slipping it into conversations so causally. A thread connected the pieces of his life, and you, it appeared, made up the spool. 

He did not speak of his mate, despite being prompted. 

A sadness came over him at any mention of her, one so achingly melancholy that you told yourself you wouldn’t ask again. 

He loved her deeply, but something had happened there.

You tried not to get too close. This was friendship, a deep familial love that he relied on. That you seemed to have relied on for so many years.

And Azriel was hurt. Even if he and his mate were no longer intertwined by their bond, he didn’t need the onslaught of emotions his amnesiac friend was suddenly overcome with. 

Because you were—overcome by emotions for him. 

It was wrong. 

You wished you had the context to separate those feelings. If you understood your history—if you had memories beyond the few weeks of sweet stories and brushes of his fingers along your hair—maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Maybe your heart wouldn’t beat painfully against your ribs each time he entered the room… each time his eyes met yours as if he could feel your admiration for him within his own chest. 

You wouldn’t be feeling this way, surely. Because no one had told you that you should be. 

You only had the recounts of your friends, and the three of them had made no insinuations about you and Azriel. 

You wished you could meet the rest of the inner circle. 

There had been plans to, but then you came home with blood on your face and a disorientation in your eyes and that was suddenly off the table. 

After your time exploring Velaris, you read. 

Mor would pile your favorite books beside you in the small reading room you had come to love and rave about how great of an opportunity this was for you.

“You would kill to be able to read these for the first time again,” she’d laugh. “So have at it!” 

Reading felt easy. 

Books did not pressure you to remember things you weren’t able to. 

You could see it all in their eyes, the way your family clung to each of your words for even a hint of reminiscence. They’d make a joke and hold their breath, desperate for the laugh that should be bubbling out of you. But you never got it, never making the connections that they did. 

Azriel was the only one who’d catch the shame you felt at your lack of deliverance. Although he was the one with the most torture in his expression, he was also the one with the most understanding. He’d lean his head down and whisper what you needed to know in your ear, and then you’d giggle—for show—and hope would return to the room. 

But nothing had returned to you. 

You were still a shell.

~~

“What do you think?” 

Cassian’s question blanketed the table, forks halting their movements atop plates. Breakfast had just begun and you were dressed for a morning in Velaris at the theater, this time with Cassian. 

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Mor questioned, eyeing the General beneath a raised brow. 

“Were you there last week when I brought her home all bloody? I think it’s a great idea. Rhys agrees.” 

“And Az?” 

Cassian continued his breakfast, reaching for his drink. “Cassian—”

And so you found yourself steps away from the roof of the House of Wind—no longer in the comfortable daywear you’d been sporting—squinting into the morning sun. Leathers fitted for your body were laced up at your back and waist, stretching with a groan as you reached up to block the light from your eyes. Although the pain in your head had subsided to practically nonexistence, it often flared up in brightness or in times of stress. 

Like when you stood atop a mountain and stared into the sun. Or got punched in the nose by a potato merchant. 

“This is where I go while you go galavanting around the city,” Cassian chimed in, a grin evident in his words. 

“Charming,” you muttered, still adjusting to the jarring assault of the sun.

The sound of grunts and clashing metal oriented you quicker, and as your eyesight settled you were met with the image of Azriel. He was bare-chested, leathers donning his legs as he pressed further and further forward, the knife you always saw at his hips hacking away at the metal dummy before him. 

He moved so quickly that it was difficult to track him, one swipe after another, so carefully skilled and practiced. Sweat beaded down his tattooed skin. His wings rippled and spread in time with his footwork. 

He was mesmerizing, a force of nature only halting as his shadows wound around his ear, whispering. Azriel whipped around, sheathing his knife at his side and staring out beyond the training ring with a narrowed gaze. He spotted you instantly, without looking near or around—a magnetic force. 

Until he wasn’t looking at you, instead glowering in Cassian’s direction. “What are you doing, brother?” he bit out. The back of his hand made a quick pass along his forehead. 

Cassian didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish, ushering you to the outskirts of the ring. “She’s going to train. Now that we know she won’t break at the slightest thing.” 

Hazel eyes slid back to you, a softness overcoming them as you quickly averted your gaze from the broadness of his chest. You were not ogling him. 

You bit into your cheek to stave off the embarrassment. 

“I thought we agreed—” 

“Az, come on. It’s been a couple of weeks now. We need to get her back in the swing of things.” 

A crack of defeat edged its way onto the Shadowsinger’s face. 

What had they agreed on? To wait it out? To treat you like glass until you were their version of yourself again? Something ugly licked up into your chest, something raw. 

For a moment—just one—you stood on the sidelines and felt pathetic. While the two Illyrians stared at each other, a silent conversation between eyes, you let yourself feel like an outsider. They had had discussions about you, but not really about you. About the you that they loved—the one with memories and reciprocation. 

“Will you be careful?” Azriel’s even voice snapped you out of the spiral you had initiated. His expression was uneasy, a hand pressed to his chest. “And tell us if you need to stop? If your head—” 

“My head has been completely fine for a while now,” you assured, hands coming up to grasp the rungs of the training ring. “Promise.” 

Azriel pressed his lips into a line but motioned you in with a nod of his head. 

Despite the conflict still raging within your mind, you smiled at Cassian, the two of you letting out a small cheer and high-fiving before the General lifted you by your hips and past the rungs. You regained your footing and stood before the spymaster, meeting his level gaze with your own. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Cassian began, a loud clap resonating behind you. “Muscle memory is going to play a big role here, but I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you’re just with this guy for now.” He patted the shoulder of the dummy Azriel had been practicing with. 

You scoffed, dropping your hands to hang by your thighs. “What? I still have the same muscle tone from before and last I checked my face was beaten in by a real person, not a chunk of metal.” 

“And that will not happen again,” Azriel cut it. “Ever. But especially not when you’re… in this state.”

You ignored the unsettling remark. “Okay, well I think sparring one of you would be more effective in the prevention of that, don’t you?” 

“Cassian and I could hurt you.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“We can’t guarantee—” 

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your view of Azriel partially obstructed by the shadows that wound up your body. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Let me do this, Az.” 

The male before you faltered, his eyes darting quickly between yours. His chest, gleaming in the sunlight, rose and fell with strenuous effort. A clench of his jaw. Another pass of silence. 

“Okay,” he nodded, gaze roving over your features. “Okay, y/n. Get warmed up and we can spar.” 

You warmed up with Cassian, stretching and relishing in the feel of your body moving. He went over a few basic maneuvers with you, and you tried your hardest to pay close attention to how his feet slid around the ring. 

It was a rather hard task, seeing as Azriel had continued his blade work on the dummy. Still shirtless. 

After the General was satisfied with your progress, he passed you off to his brother. The Shadowsinger’s posture had softened a hair from when you first entered the ring, his wings coiled back and his shadows creating uneven shapes along the floor. He kept his hands by his sides, his feet relaxed—not a fighting stance in the slightest. 

“Come on,” you teased, cocking your head to the side. “You have to at least try, Az.” 

“I did not spar with you often before your memories were lost,” he admitted. “I do not enjoy the thought of hurting you.” 

Guilt immediately flooded you. You hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for him, too caught up in your own strife. Your stance dropped, the fists at your chin loosening and falling. 

“Oh, Azriel, I’m sorry. I can have Cassian—” 

“No.” He dragged his left foot back. A ghost of a fighting position. “Only me.” 

You took a painful breath in. 

He didn’t move, allowing you to lead. 

You shook your hands out and then your body moved of its own accord. 

You swiped at his legs first, unsurprised when he leaped back with practiced grace. The two of you fell into a dance of drawn arms and calculated shifts and you were almost unnerved by how your body moved without you willing it to. 

Cassian had said that muscle memory would play a role. 

It seemed to be the only thing driving you.  

You went for his knees, but in a way that maneuvered past his wings. 

You used his shadows as cover, taking advantage of their familiarity with you and cloaking yourself in their mist. 

Azriel swung a halfhearted punch at your shoulder and you bypassed the motion, grabbing his wrist and twisting at his back. 

It felt right. Your actions were not your own but they were ingrained in your being. 

This was your body. 

Something that remained unchanged. 

In your newfound joy, you missed the open palm Azriel carefully directed at your chest. The impact caught you off guard, stealing your breath from your lungs as you were pushed to the ground. As your back hit the floor, another shocking burst of air was ripped from you. 

You laid frozen for a moment before a shadow cast over your body, the sun no longer beating down on your skin. Through the ringing in your ears, Azriel’s voice flowed through. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—y/n, take a breath.” A scarred hand rubbed along your clavicle. “Breathe. You’re okay. Breathe.” 

A startling gasp of oxygen entered your lungs. You were fine, completely unharmed, only shocked and disoriented. Azriel bowed his head as you continued to circulate the air into your body, and it was then that you saw it. 

A chain hung between you, dangling from his neck and brushing against your chin. It swayed back and forth, a grounding point as you blinked back the tears lining your eyes. The ring glinted in the sun, rubbing against the golden chain, looking as if it did not belong there. 

Azriel tracked your gaze as he raised his head, looking down at the object of your attention. He sat back on his ankles and the diamond followed him, resting close to his chest. 

You raised yourself to your elbows. “Who’s—” You coughed. Azriel winced. “Is that yours?”  

A stupid question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. A guarded look passed over the Shadowsinger’s face and you regretted it instantly. He reached up and clutched the necklace in a closed fist.  

“No,” he responded. “Are you okay?” 

He didn’t release the ring. 

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “I’m not hurt. It just knocked the wind out of me.” 

Azriel nodded. A grim line formed between his brows. 

“Hey! She alright?” Cassian called. He had moved clear across the roof when you began to spar with Azriel, mentioning something about inventory or knives or something you hadn’t paid attention to. You had been too focused on the warmth you felt from being so close to Azriel’s skin. 

The sound of Cassian’s voice did nothing to break the hold Azriel’s eyes had on you. 

Another beat of silence passed. 

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his forehead. 

“I—” 

“I have a mission. I was supposed to meet with Rhys before midday.” He spoke the words apologetically but his hand shook when it lowered to his knee. 

The sun was already past the high point in the sky. It was no longer midday. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I want to thank you for—” 

“Don’t thank me. Please, just—Be careful. I have to go.” 

A quiet collection of parting words fell from your lips and Aziel twitched, looking as if he would move forward but thinking better of it. 

But you had thoughts too, and they worked against Azriel’s

You raised to your knees and brushed the hair on his forehead back, a small smile gracing your face, trying so hard to melt some of the tension that had grown between you. Azriel’s breath caught as you moved, but you only doubled down, softly dragging your nails along his scalp. 

He shuddered, eyes falling shut for a brief, unguarded moment. 

His shadows consumed him. 

Azriel was gone. 

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic

[chilschuck]

beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333

— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.

꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k

✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33

— LAIOS:

✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.

✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.

✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.

✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!

✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.

✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.

“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.

In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”

Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.

✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.

✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…

✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.

✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…

✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.

“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.

You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”

The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.

— FALIN:

✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!

✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.

✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.

✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.

✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.

“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.

“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

— MICKBELL:

✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.

✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.

✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.

✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.

✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.

“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.

“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.

“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #HOPING THIS IS OK ANON HHHHH #i’m hitting a creative roadblock with school #which is causing me to stress a bit #but i wanted to get this out for you guys!!! <333 #first time writing for falin so i hope it’s ok… #sorry if anyone’s ooc!! WAHHH #laios x reader #laios touden x reader #falin x reader #falin touden x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #mickbell tomas x reader #mickbell x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

[eumppattv]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ only for you

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing: riize x reader! fluff and slight angst ₊⊹

ᥫ᭡。 sides riize only show to you, their love ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𓍯𓂃 shotaro- his serious side

although shotaro can be pretty hard on the guys during practice, he usually reverts back to his smiley self almost instantly. his seriousness with you is a different kind, one that lingers. you’ll be at home, and find him working at his desk. he will talk to you about what he’s working on, what needs to be improved and so on. you love see him serious about his work, and also see him be serious when it comes to your relationship.

𓍯𓂃 eunseok- his jealous side

let’s be honest, eunseok is unpredictable. you never know which version of him you’re getting. still, he’s usually pretty calm and collected. that’s why him getting jealous is always a shock to you. his usual calm demeanor is replaced by his need to keep you to himself. you’ll be talking to a member, and all is well until you’re alone. that’s when he will confess he was jealous, a pout adorning his face.

𓍯𓂃 sungchan- his anxious side

sungchan is playful, carefree and relaxed. you often find yourself flustered by his words and actions, with his confidence being his best trait. although teasing you is his favorite pastime, sungchan also finds comfort in knowing he can share his fears with you, without judgement. with you he can let the mask he puts on go, even if it’s just for a couple minutes.

𓍯𓂃 wonbin- his romantic side

wonbin can be very shy at times. to others it seems that you aren’t even close, and they wonder how you make your relationship work. but really he is just private, and behind closed doors he is as romantic as they come. he will often buy you flowers, and organize date nights. he will write you letters, songs, and send you romantic messages every day. that’s how he shows his love for you.

𓍯𓂃 seunghan- his insecure side

it’s true that seunghan never misses an opportunity to tease you. plenty of “you like me so much huh” and “you think i’m so hot” have been exchanged. but what he doesn’t let others see is the moments where he doubts if you really do love him. when he doubts if he’s the right fit for you. really he is just scared that one day you won’t be around, so he will put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. in the end, he knows you accept his confidence and his moments of doubt.

𓍯𓂃 sohee- his quiet side

if there’s anyone who can brighten your mood, it’s sohee. his loud energetic personality can make anyone’s day. but with you he can relax, and not have to worry about being the mood maker. afternoons are spent laying down on your phones, not thinking about what to say or what to do. with you, sohee can bask in silence- no expectations, just peace. and although he can be shy with others, the silence he shares with you isn’t one of awkwardness, but of love.

𓍯𓂃 anton- his loud side

everyone knows anton as the soft speaker, always teasing him about it. while he always shows that side of him, with you it’s different. he’ll let himself get loud when he’s teasing you, or when you’re competing against each other- mario kart gets intense with him. he’ll also be loud when he’s calling out to you, whether it be at home or at an outing. he truly lets loose with you, showing you how much love he has for you.

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[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Lynette, Eula, and Lumine with an s/o whose love language is acts of service, and enjoys cooking/baking for them?

(Genshin Impact) Signs of Love for Lynette, Eula, Lumine, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lisa, Yae, Xianyun, Dehya, and Kokomi

WOE, EIGHT EXTRA WAIFUS UPON THEE

Lynette prefers this type of love over any kind of flowery words.

After all, with her true profession words mean very little.

How someone acts tells her everything she needs to know.

It especially show in the way S/O cooks their meals.

After coming home from a show, she sees S/O gently smile at her, with a bucket full of shellfish on the table, and a small plate of lemons near it.

She doesn't need to say anything, a small smile from her and her tail swishing faster than usual tells S/O how happy she is.

Having some true peace and quiet with the people she loves nearby is all she could ever want.

Eula is actually thankful S/O shows affection in a language she can understand: nonverbally.

With a simple hug, she can immediately tell how S/O is feeling with how tightly their arms are wrapped around her.

Eula chuckles, being behind closed doors allowing her more gentle side to come out.

(Eula) "Nice to see you too, S/O."

(S/O) "Dinner's already done, kept it warm for you."

(Eula) "How chivalrous of you."

She teased, before seeing a change of clothes already on the table for her.

This was something she could get used to.

With all the things Lumine gets up to, having someone just prepare dinner for her while she's away is enough to make her to cry.

With no other obligations than just to come home safe to someone she loves, Lumine completely relaxes around S/O.

(S/O) "Welcome back. Busy day?"

(Lumine) "You already know."

Lumine slumps down on the chair, letting out a dramatic sigh making both of them laugh.

(S/O) "Dinner should be ready in a second, and I got a bath running upstairs."

S/O heard her head lean back into the chair.

(Lumine) "I could kiss you right now."

(S/O) "Do it when you don't stink."

Lumine rolled her eyes, hearing S/O chuckle.

Arlecchino can easily smell the barbecue coming from the House of the Hearth, as well as the sound of children laughing.

And she knew S/O was in there, keeping them happy.

It was strange, admittedly.

To have someone who genuinely loved her, without knowing entirely what she was actually like.

And instead of showering her with useless words or gifts, S/O let their love show in how they treated her and her children.

It made her quite fond of S/O, and if they were already like this, then she knew she didn't have to say "I love you" to them every day.

(S/O) "Arle, care to join us?"

(Arlecchino) "Of course, have you made sure to make some for yourself?"

(S/O) "Mhm, just didn't want to dig in without you."

A smile finally grows on her lips as she sits down, S/O next to her.

(Arlecchino) "Apologies for keeping you waiting then, Shall we?"

Chiori's not gonna sugarcoat it: Instant kiss with both her hands behind S/O's head the moment she sees her tools already brought out in the order she likes.

She didn't need S/O to do that, but this was way better than some expensive gift she'll never use or wear.

In fact, S/O made damn sure to never buy her clothes, as that would be the ultimate insult.

Instead, it was everything that could help her, ranging from tailoring tools and new windows.

All with an admittedly very cute smile they wore just for her.

(Chiori) "Hm, you have me head over heels for you, S/O."

She said, with a relatively deadpan voice.

(S/O) "You can barely keep the affection in, dear."

Both of them quietly chuckle as they work on their jobs inside the store.

Other than making her name known across all of Tevyat, she doesn't think she could ask for anything more.

Lisa's eyes haze over with more love than she thought possible when she realizes that her tea is already on the table.

(Lisa) "Oh, you sure know how to make a woman's heart skip a beat, S/O!"

(S/O) "Well, I learned from the best, right?"

Lisa absolutely adores S/O's love language, seeing as she barely needed to lift a finger.

But that being said, she makes sure to return the favor. It isn't much of a relationship if only one side is putting in this much effort.

Both S/O and Lisa constantly do little things for each other, whether it be work or home related.

The real moment Lisa is ready to just drop down on one knee for marriage is when they already have a hot bath for her the moment she closes up the library.

Yae gladly takes the sake S/O has prepared for her on the table, making sure to pour them some as well.

(Yae) "Oh, where would I be without you?"

(S/O) "Hm, probably very bored. But still in the same place."

Yae simply chuckles at that, not even bothering to argue.

S/O was certainly interesting in her eyes, as they rarely needed to be told how they could help her out.

She honestly expected their love to be a bit more grandiose instead of something so plain.

And yet she could hardly find room to complain about it. Especially with all the fried tofu they cooked for her.

(Yae) "Remind me to get you something nice for today. Oh, how about a signature from our very own Miss Hina?"

(S/O) "I think I'd prefer my reward not paid with someone's tears, Miko."

(Yae) "Hm, your loss."

S/O already had Xianyun's heart at the good food, but everything else was a bonus that just kept on adding.

And what better way for One to repay S/O's love than eating every single morsel?

For all their efforts, Xianyun works to invent something special, only for S/O.

(Xianyun) "Hm..."

A single finger brushed the bottom of her chin, lips pursing as she struggled to think what machine they could use.

They already had her cooking tools, and while newer ones could be good, she felt the need to give them something even better.

(S/O) "Something on your mind, Xianyun?"

(Xianyun) "No, One's problem is that nothing is coming to it..."

She wanted to repay her affection in kind since this was her love language as well.

What about a machine that could allow them to fly with her?

...Actually, that'd probably be a bad idea....Or would it?

(Xianyun) sigh "If only you could fly, S/O..."

(S/O) "...?"

As a mercenary/bodyguard, actions always spoke louder than words to Dehya.

And she'd be damned if S/O didn't show how much they loved her.

Whether it be buying a nice makeup set for her or preparing an entire bag of Candied Ajilenakh Nuts, it never failed to make her cheeks heat up at least a little.

(Dehya) "Thanks, I'll be sure to use it later! Let me know if there's anything you want me to get you as well!"

She had many types of people try to win her love with trying to smoothtalk or bribe her.

But all S/O had to do was pay attention to the little things.

And seeing how they were trying hard to reinforce her makeup case, Dehya already knew her heart belonged to no one else.

(Dehya) "...Is that steel?"

(S/O) "Think that's too much?"

(Dehya) "Hah, just a little!"

It does not matter how tired Kokomi is, the moment she sees S/O tidying up her bed with a few books already by the nightstand.

Her energy skyrockets back up to full as if she got hit with a power boost.

(Kokomi) "S/O, thank you so much!"

She does feel a little bad for S/O to do so much for her when she's so busy.

But at the same time, it was hard to deny that being pampered like this was greatly relaxing for her.

So much responsibility was thrust upon her, it felt nice to have someone who had no expectations in return to do something just because they wanted to.

In her journal, the energy S/O gives her had at least four digits at any given time.

Of course, she makes sure that they don't ever see that, lest her energy drop to zero by making her want to bury her head inside a pillow.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lynette x reader #eula x reader #lumine x reader #arlecchino x reader #chiori genshin impact x reader #lisa minci x reader #yae miko x reader #xianyun x reader #dehya x reader #kokomi x reader #lynette genshin impact #eula lawrence #lumine genshin impact #arlecchino genshin #chiori genshin impact #lisa minci #yae miko #xianyun genshin #dehya genshin #kokomi sangonomiya

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.

Word Count: 7,238

The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so. 

Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet. 

He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely. 

I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand. 

“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided. 

“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”  

“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting. 

Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention. 

“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted. 

“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked. 

Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again. 

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed. 

“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable. 

“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door. 

“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm. 

“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for. 

“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.” 

“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer. 

“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.” 

Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming  guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was. 

“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”  

“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”  I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.” 

“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.” 

My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much. 

I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in. 

“We haven’t done this since-” 

“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence. 

“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?” 

“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled. 

“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide. 

“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.

“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.” 

“Don’t let Cassian know that,”  Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed. 

“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed. 

It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did. 

Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.   

“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my  hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.  

“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay. 

I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink. 

“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did. 

“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder. 

“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror. 

I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly. 

“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face. 

“Will you teach me how to fight?  I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away.  I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day. 

“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs. 

I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn. 

When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me. 

“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.

“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down. 

“But Cass I’m fine-” 

“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right. 

“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him. 

He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself  for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine.  Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.    

“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.” 

“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose. 

“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him. 

Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body.  The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”

Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted  on my stomach. 

“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up. 

“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them. 

My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children. 

A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for. 

What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?

“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water. 

“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response. 

“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-” 

“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy,  I just need you.”

“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies.  I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.” 

He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand. 

“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.

“Now I’m never letting you go”

The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love. 

“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it  all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother. 

There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues. 

“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”  

I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”

“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips. 

I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days. 

“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band. 

“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest. 

“Whatever makes you happy  my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair. 

We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be. 

The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal. 

I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.

“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him. 

“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.

“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him. 

“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips. 

I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss. 

His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”

“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum. 

“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.” 

“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall. 

His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.

“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.” 

My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way  possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me. 

As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance,  a concerned look on his face. 

“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong. 

“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati. 

Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.

“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.

He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly. 

“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him. 

Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.

“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest. 

“Yes,” I nod. 

In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend. 

The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city. 

As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up. 

When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away.  Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.  

We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.

“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,”  Rhysand’s voice boomed.

It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had  never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.

“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me.  Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?

I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.

“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it.  While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.

“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning. 

“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.” 

“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly. 

My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.

Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.

“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir. 

Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down. 

Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.  

“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.” 

“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.” 

Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.

“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm. 

Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room. 

I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.

“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins. 

Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage. 

“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself. 

Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through. 

“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive. 

“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne. 

“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through. 

Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.

“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him. 

“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”

My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now. 

“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.

“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away. 

I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.

He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly. 

“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides. 

I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every  touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor. 

“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts. 

I  was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me. 

His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.

“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.

My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.

“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine. 

“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him. 

“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple. 

“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest. 

“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me. 

If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.

“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more. 

My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing. 

“Oh Cass,” I moaned,  my nails raking across his back. 

“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?” 

His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated. 

“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”

His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly. 

“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me. 

Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment. 

He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.

I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst. 

“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on. 

“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.

In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.

“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-” 

“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.

“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.

The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down. 

“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.

He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.

“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”

“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly. 

“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck. 

“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his. 

“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.

“What?” he says, caught off guard. 

“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.

“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle. 

“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face. 

“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 ,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle 

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always  

#cassian angst #cassian smut #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #cassian x y/n #acosf #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand angst #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[kxssmeliv]

Good Luck, Babe!

Cw: Angst without comfort, motions of internalized homophobia/homophobia in general, Don't read if your very religious!!

Ellie was slouched on the edge of her bed, her eyes half-closed and her guitar resting precariously on her lap. The dim light of the room cast long shadows, lighting the weariness etched on her face. She strummed a few chords absentmindedly, the sound echoing through the apartment like a melancholic melody. You sat beside her, your hand gently rubbing the small of her back, a soft smile on your face as you watched her play. The room was silent except for the gentle sound of her guitar, and the subtle sound of your breathing.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you found a profound sense of peace, the kind that only came from being with someone who truly understood you. Her music, while somber, was a testament to the depth of her spirit, and you found yourself drawn to it, much like you were drawn to her.

Ellie comes to a halt, her fingers slowly releasing the strings of her guitar as she sets it down carefully beside her. With a turn, she directs her attention towards you, her eyes meeting yours with a small smile on her lips.

"I just had a thought," she says, gazing down at your bare thigh, waiting for you to ask what it was.

"What is it?" 

Ellie seemed hesitant as she avoided making eye contact. After struggling to find the right words, she finally spoke hesitantly. "Um, I don't know if you've heard, but Dina is throwing a Valentine's Day get-together," she met your eyes. "I was thinking maybe we could go together, as a couple." Ellie paused before finishing her sentence.

You took a deep breath, the air feeling thick in your lungs, and let out a nervous laugh that was barely audible. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty as you thought about the secret you had been keeping from your family. 

Unlike Ellie, who was openly gay and accepted by the people around her, you couldn't be open about your sexuality, due to your family's strict religious beliefs and narrow-minded views as well as some of the people in your town. You were your parent's golden child, being perfect, and never getting into trouble. You knew you had to choose between your family, morals, and reputation or your happiness. 

"Ellie," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to. I do. But I'm just... I'm not ready yet." You could see the disappointment in her eyes.

"You said the same thing 7 months ago," Ellie lets out, her eyes widening at her own words.

As soon as you hear her words, your heart begins to pound relentlessly against your ribcage, a sensation so intense that you feel like it could burst out of your chest any second, you can't help but hang on to every word she says.

"I know...and I'm sorry" You take a deep breath in between speaking, you would have said more if you could, but you didn't know what to say.

"When will you be ready?" Ellie's voice is laced with frustration, you couldn't blame her, you had been telling her the same excuse for almost 2 years. When are you going to be ready? Ellie imagined a future with you, getting married, buying a home, and starting a family. How would that happen if you kept her a secret? A lot of times Ellie couldn't help but think you would be happier with a man, you wouldn't have to keep him a secret.

From the moment you met Ellie you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, the same night you went home, you cried and prayed to god for forgiveness for thinking about another girl that way.

 Ellie understood you in a way no one else did, she didn't judge you for being yourself, she listened to whatever you had to say and you did the same for her. You loved her more than anything on earth, you never wanted to be apart from her, so the ultimate you were left with now killed you. Ellie and happiness, or the only life you knew.

Her question left you frozen, 'when will you be ready' The question swam around in your mind, you knew there wasn't a concrete answer to that, it was a question you've asked yourself countless times. "I don't know, Ellie, I wish I did." The honesty in your voice echoed the helplessness you felt inside. 

You knew Ellie wouldn't wait for you forever, it wasn't fair to her. You were surprised Ellie didn't hate you or hadn't left you yet, she had every right to. Ellie feels a bitter taste on her tongue at your words, she nods her head slowly. You couldn't keep putting her through this, hurting her, she didn't deserve it. The only way you could fix it is by ending it. 

"Ellie," you choke out, your voice breaking, "I think... I think we should break up." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and painful, sounding so final and irrevocable.

Ellie's eyes widen, the breath knocked out of her as if you'd physically struck her. For a moment, she just stares at you, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to form words. The silence that follows is deafening.

"What?" Ellie finally manages to whisper, her voice barely audible. Her hands tremble, and she clutches them together tightly as if to keep herself from falling apart.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart aching at the look of utter disbelief on her face. "I... I can't keep doing this to you, Ellie. It's not fair," you murmur, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "You deserve someone who can love you openly, not... not someone too scared to be true to themselves."

She looks at you, her eyes welling up with tears, but she blinks them back, refusing to let them fall. "I want you," she says, her voice stronger now. "I don't care about what other people think. I don't care about the rest of the world. I care about you."

But you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks now. "I care, Ellie. I can't live like this. I can't keep hiding, and I can't keep hurting you."

It's a long, painful silence before she finally nods, her shoulders slumping as she accepts your words. She doesn't argue, doesn't fight, just accepts. And that somehow hurts more than anything else.

You stand up from the bed, avoiding Ellie's eyes, grabbing your bag, and heading for the door.

"I love you. I hope one day, you'll love yourself too. Good luck, babe."

Your heart feels a thousand pounds heavier hearing her words, a part of you wants to turn around and take it all back, beg for her to take you back. But you can't, you won't. Tears fall down your eyes as you walk out of her apartment and to your car. Your heart knows you just made the biggest mistake of your life, as you get in your car, and make your way home.

Maybe god could still forgive you.

An: Sorry for this, i just love being in pain >w< GO LISTEN TO CHAPPELL ROAN NOW!!!!!

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #the last of us #angst #wlw #wlw post

[yridenergyridenergy]

Dir en grey interview translation notes around The Devil In Me

Just some of the more interesting bits from the single's booklet and from PHY vol. 25.

Kyo

He was the one who came up with the title, and the title was determined before they even attached a song to it. The band basically decided to set a date for a new single ahead of time, not too long after 19990120's release, then they had just one song selection meeting (usually, they have three) to pick a song to work with toward becoming "The Devil In Me". After scheduling a release date, they had to pick a title before even knowing what song would be part of that release for production/logistical reasons.

Kyo wrote the lyrics of The Devil In Me based on his sense of dissociation from world events, how his own issues are not aligned with what the world cares about. He finds that people's lives are sometimes pre-determined the moment they are born. It's really a reflection on: "Why am I the way I am?"

The chorus has so many layers because Kyo wanted to illustrate that inner evil, or wickedness.

While re-recording Yokan, Kyo realized that he used to sing in short bouts, taking a breath more regularly, whereas he's evolved to sing as much as he can in a single, long breath now.

The small changes made to the lyrics of Cage just serve to help Kyo feel more immersed in that old poem, but if he'd wanted to change the lyrics to represent his current mindset, clearly he would have composed a completely new, different song.

Kyo commented in PHY vol. 25 that if the producers wanted a band that sells a lot, they would have had to replace him with someone who is taller, has a nice face and that composes songs that appeal to a wider audience. But around their debut, Kyo had to bend to some of the producers' demands because he had to rely on their knowledge of what would make the band successful. He wanted to make a very dark band, but he had to accept to make songs like Yokan.

"It wouldn't be appropriate to sing about corpses and internal organs to a melodious song such as Yokan (lol)."

Kyo feels like Dir en grey is the toughest band for him to be a part of, because the band's shows are especially mentally difficult.

Kaoru

The music of The Devil In Me was Kaoru's idea.

Kaoru agrees that the song kind of ends in a way that the band could have, in the past, followed up on with a second section of the song, but they felt like ending it in a more simple way now, which still represents the band's current state.

Die

The band had a discussion in a dressing room during Tour23 Phalaris Final –The scent of a peaceful death- and that's where they came to an understanding of where they wanted to take the band next. Kyo brought them ideas on what he felt that the next single song should sound like, but in the end, at the selection meeting, the majority of the band chose a completely different song than the other of the 5 that Kyo preferred. He's fine with letting the majority win.

Die started working out in 2018 to make sure to stay in shape for stage performances, and I think that he mentioned that it's important for him to appear young and healthy so that the fans who follow the band also don't feel old.

For Die, he was in part less active on stage during the Dum Spiro Spero era because the songs were dark and complex, so he had to focus more. Because of that, he couldn't enjoy the actual shows as much.

Toshiya

Toshiya mentioned that doing commemorative tours and shows is really just fan service.

Toshiya described Dir en grey as a group of five dictators. Their enemies and friends/allies are all inside that group, and the past 25(+) years have been a continuation of challenges to bring the band forward despite this type of chemical reaction between five egos.

Apparently the band never has casual "weird" conversations where they chat about their interests of the moment, but they quietly observe the others without interacting, like by observing what kind of clothes they wear or are into.

Shinya

Contrary to the band's habit, the vocals did not even exist yet when Shinya had to compose and record his drumming for The Devil In Me. When the vocals were eventually recorded, they kind of matched what Shinya had expected.

However, overall, a couple of members of the band feel like The Devil In Me might be a song that people react to with: "I don't get it", rather that just liking or disliking it.

Shinya dissing The Marrow of a Bone again hahah.

Shinya described The Devil In Me as mysterious, inexplicable.

He started taking some lessons from Buck-Tick's "Anii" (Toll Yagami) to learn a new drumming method. In the past, at the very beginning of his career, Shinya used to wear lead weights at his ankles to hit the pedal heavier and develop muscles, but Yoshiki and other seniors told him how to actually play and he quickly got rid of the weight belts.

#Dir en grey #The Devil In Me #magazine #interview #cage #yokan #25th anniversary

[holdinbacksecrets]

your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way

thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things

seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time

tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars

seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing

jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”

joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind

jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”

soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier

wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams

jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well

seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep

mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions

minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?

hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”

seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one

chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen blurbs #seventeen fluff #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #hansol scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #chan scenarios

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hey can I ask you a request?

Basically, I love Anne Sallow x Ominis a lot and I wanted to ask you about the reactions of the various characters who discover the feelings that each other has and maybe get together 💚💗💚💗💚💗

Ps. English is not my language

A/N: I think I understand what you're asking for, but for simplicity's sake, I'm going to give them feelings for MC

HLC REACT TO REALIZING THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON MC

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: The realization hits him like a train. After everything he had dealt with during fifth year, who was still standing with him? Who put up with his shit? Who risked everything for his sister despite barely knowing her? MC. They had become his closest friend, even closer than Ominis, but only now is he seeing them in a different light. The next time their eyes meet, they know.

OMINIS GAUNT: MC had been his peace in the chaos. The rock he could cling to in the storm. He had found comfort in them, but on realizing how deep his feelings were going, he was scared. Surely these feelings would scare them away. He had to be careful going forward.

ANNE SALLOW: She never thought she was the type of girl to fall for a knight in shining armor, but MC literally saved her life. The way they treated her, the way they bent over backwards for her, there had to be more to their feelings than they said. She didn't fall first, but she fell harder.

IMELDA REYES: Panic. No. Nonononono! They are not part of her plan! She is going to graduate school and play professional quidditch with the Holyhead Harpies. She doesn't have time or patience to deal with a relationship. She bottles up her feelings as quickly as she catches them.

NATSAI ONAI: MC has made her feel soft and warm inside since the first day in charms class. Their smile alone could make her feel like kicking her feet like an excited school girl. She doesn't jump to any conclusions, but she does try to ease the idea of a relationship beyond friendship between her and MC as they get to know each other. An innocent butterbeer date wouldn't hurt, would it?

GARRETH WEASLEY: He's kind of oblivious. He knows he likes being around them and he likes getting them involved with his schemes, but he doesn't seem to realize how close he likes to stand next to them in potions class. Or how he takes a little too much joy into making them laugh. MC will probably have to make the first move to make him realize it, then he's just dumbfounded.

LEANDER PREWETT: If MC found him charmingly awkward before, it increases when he realizes he has a crush. He tries a bit too hard to get their attention by opening doors for them and constantly asks where they're going after class. A lot of the times he ends up tripping over something or dropping whatever he's holding. He doesn't mind so much that they're laughing, but he's afraid they'll never take him seriously.

AMIT THAKKAR: He fusses more about how well they're doing in class and if there's anything he can do to help. He figures that maybe he could spend more time with them if they agree to let him tutor them. Especially in astrology. Having MC all to himself in the evening under the stars and a telescope? He can't think of anything better. He has to be careful with his daydreaming, he'll mess up his notes.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He's...not okay. He hates himself for catching feelings. There's no way in any realm of reality that MC would want him. He doesn't even have to go out of his way to avoid MC, they just aren't around him much after flying class. He doesn't think they've ever even gone out of their way to talk to him (Unless they're Ravenclaw). He'll admire from a distance and wait it out.

POPPY SWEETING: She really wishes her face wouldn't be so red around MC. We're going to start asking if she's not feeling well. She tries to play coy, but she's so obvious that it hurts. MC would have to be as thick as a rock to miss the signs. She constantly wants to be around them, always grabs their hand when she wants to show them something, practically stares while they're interacting with beasts, etc. Just don't point it out, she'll get embarrassed.

✨BONUS CHARACTERS✨

ANDREW LARSON: He feels lighter than air when MC enters a room. He knows he's done for. He knows he doesn't stand a chance. He knows they don't even know they exist, but he indulges in their presence while he can. He's not even concerned with wiping the silly grin off his face, it's not like they'll look his way.

LENORA EVERLEIGH: Shy. So very shy. After MC helped her with the mirror puzzle, she got firsthand experience of how nice they could be. From that point onward, when they were around, she'd be too flustered to talk to them again first. She can barely handle being next to them in herbology. She really wishes Professor Garlick would stop asking if she has a fever.

NELLIE OGGSPIRE: She pursues MC like they're a mountain she's dying to climb. She makes her feelings known up front and plain. She'll shrug it off if she's rejected. She already doesn't have them, so what's the difference? If they accept, excellent! They can go on adventures together!

CRESSIDA BLUME: MC was so willing to help her before, perhaps they'll do it again? She intentionally botches up some of her charm work to give her an excuse to have MC's attention. She's put her diary on lockdown, however, the things she writes in there nowadays she doesn't want MC to ever read.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #anne sallow #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting #andrew larson #lenora everleigh #nellie oggspire #cressida blume

[clangenrising]

sorry if this is too harsh to ask. when ever the story leans over to the city cats, they mistreat others or lean on the evil/bad side (look at poor aldertail, lake, scorch, and smokeyrose :( ) the more I read this, the more I'm siding with the clan cats to wipe out all the city cats. that way there can be peace for everyone because I can't see how the city cats have any remorse in the clan cats eyes or yours

Wow. Okay.

Um, first things first, I will never be in support of Wiping Out any group of people. I get what you're trying to say but that's just not an ideology I can get behind. It is honestly a very dangerous and upsetting argument to make and hopefully, I can explain why.

Most of the city cats are not Evil. Most of the city cats are people who grew up in a corrupt system and have been taught to do bad things from a young age. Like Mystique for example: Has she hurt people? Yes. Does she seem resistant to change? Yes. Does this mean she is not worthy of compassion or a chance to grow and be better? Absolutely not!

I was raised Mormon. I know a lot of people, some who I love, who do bad things on the regular - people who voted for trump, people who support homophobic or imperialist policies, people who are hurtful to the marginalized people in their lives. I will NEVER believe that these people deserve to die for the way they are. They are just humans doing their best with the knowledge they were given and the baggage they've accrued.

I do think that there are cats, like Razor for instance, who need to be Stopped, certainly, and removed from positions of power. Unfortunately, cats don't have the ability to institute more systemic solutions to these kinds of problems so they will most often solve these problems by killing the cat. But this should only happen after it is clear that there is no opportunity for a non violent solution.

The world is complicated and messy and it means people are taught bad things and have trauma that makes them hurt other people. I'm not saying that those behaviors are okay. They should be held accountable for the harm that they do. But those behaviors do not make them irredeemable or Evil. Hell, I don't think there ARE Evil people! I don't think there are GOOD people! People can't be good or evil because they are always going to be making new choices. Some of those choices will hurt people, some of those choices will help people, some of those choices are entirely neutral. I believe you can judge people's actions but its impossible to judge their 'soul' so to speak.

There are a lot of cats in the city who do bad things because they see those things as normal or because the system rewards them for doing so. Do you think the Clans should kill all of those people?? Because I will never agree with you if you do and I urge you to rethink how you see the world.

Give me any city cat and I will be able to find a way to empathize with them. Yes, even Razor. They're all just people. And in my opinion, none of them deserve to die. They deserve to change and heal. And I think most of them will. I'm a death penalty abolitionist and that means I don't think ANYONE should be put to death. You don't get to selectively apply that kind of belief only to the people you think are 'good'.

Sorry for how long and rambling my response was. If anyone has follow up questions or comments, I'm open to discussing this further, just please remember to be kind and avoid any sort of harassment, and that goes both ways. Nobody harass this anon for what they said. I believe they are very misguided but that doesn't make them a bad person. If you think that then you've entirely missed the point of everything I said.

#not art #asks and answers #anon asks

[darcydoesfuckall]

The Hoard’s Prayer:

A gift for @chernozemm

Spirit and skin are incongruous. Oil and water; soul and sweat. This flesh made mine by G-d. These desires ungodly. Do they spring forth From the same river basin? An oily foam skimming atop The drink with which I shall never thirst.

Are food and wine not Communion too? Might I hunger for them? Would You permit My tongue to touch the loaf? Unleavened and unflavoured, Nothing of substance. I need no calories; Just a sinking stomach-stone To quell the ache of peristalsis.

Spirit and skin, both Want. Him. But other things too. Good music is nourishing For the celestial core More than the ear it sits upon. He would fatten the grace of me, The light beneath my bushel, If only I asked. And I would thank You, If only You let my essence feed. Praise Your name For the gift of him.

Is it the greed that You abhor? The gluttony. When the thought of him Is smeared across my mouth. Or is it idolatry? That I should lo— It is the gluttony, I suspect.

I have wandered Six millennia, cast into the desert. The snake, too, tempted me. Like the Son of man I prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, And bled mortal blood, And cherished my enemy, And wanted.

Forgive him, For he knows not What he is doing. Forgive me, For the sulphur-taste, On my tongue.

Is it the physicality? Might that be what displeases You? Judas and his kiss. Did Jesus, too, Desire more? Or am I alone, Heaven made flesh, Malnourishment carved into the bones.

Humans were created, Like me, From this intersection Of ghostly (sin)ew. You bless them, The undeserving beasts. Why am I then scrapped With Your first draft in the flood?

You let David keep Bathsheba. I have wanted him For longer than David has lived. What must I do To satiate the rumble Of the thunder in my stomach? Your first storm, Made before Adam spied Eve, Under the ark-curve of a wing In the rain.

Let me keep him. Just this once, I speak plainly. Let me have him, Let me taste the skin sweat on his brow. Joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, Faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control Nine fruit he has offered me. I am full, only when I indulge in these. Spirit and body as one, It does not feel like sin.

Let me bite into him, Savouring the flavours, Of the blood and viscera You curse-blessed us with. ‘Oh, LORD,’ I beg. Let me devour The unnamed fruit Of the spirit-become-flesh.

You made me to thirst. Now make me to drink.

But who am I To make demands of G-d?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #fanfic #fanfiction #poetry

[annie-creates]

Life without you

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: This is a cute little comfort fluffy fic.

With a heavy sigh you close the door of your small apartment in the Firefly base, shrugging your jacket off and placing your shoes by the door. The living room is quiet and dark, not even the kitchenette light left on. No wonder the place is vacant, it must be long past midnight at this point. Not having the energy to even eat you quickly brush your teeth changing into the pajamas you left in the bathroom this morning. You’re trying to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the night peace of the place. Carefully you open the bedroom door, your girlfriends form steadily breathing on her side of bed.

You whine in pain as you sit on your side of the bed trying to relieve your tensed up muscles, the mattress dipping under your weight. With the many people who kept arriving at your camp, a lot of them needed your help as a doctor. Count in your regular patients and those who got hurt during patrols and hunting and you were overwhelmed with work. Sleep was a foreign concept to you at this point, your body running solely on caffeine and cold showers. The rare nights when you could take the time to actually go home and sleep you returned deep into the night and left before sunrise, hardy even having the time for a conversation with your girlfriend.

“Hi.” Comes from behind you and you feel the duvets shifting.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You apologize in a tender voice.

“You didn’t.” But it’s clearly not true. “A lot of work?”

“A crazy lot of work.” You admit crawling into bed, Abby offering her strong embrace to you. “I wouldn’t even wish upon anyone to see it.”

“That bad?” She chuckles amused.

“Nah, even worse.” Is all you say because the last thing you want to talk about when finally coming home is your never-ending work again.

Your mind goes back to a year ago when Abby joined the fireflies, needing your medical help herself. She was a much different person back then, hurt and skinny, but also guarded and insecure. She came out of her shell a lot over the time, being an amazing companion, endlessly supportive and caring. She always understood when you had too much work or needed her to reassure you in your skills. Her hair had grown out to a shot bob now and she built her muscles into a strong frame.

“When was the last time you slept?” She asks watching the dark bags under your beautiful eyes.

“Um, Monday? What day is it?” You answer unsure, your mind and eyes already too heavy to hold a meaningful conversation.

“Thursday.” From her vice it’s clear Abby doesn’t approve of this, but all she does is tighten her hold on you.

She carefully caresses your back and you play with her short hair. You told her how beautiful she’d look with it longer, but she’s adamant on not letting it grow longer than her collar bones. It’s practical, won’t get in her way in a fight, she always says, but you can see she has deeper reasons not to want long hair she’s not yet ready to share with you. As you’re falling into slumber, a harsh knock on the front door startles you awake.

“Really?” You complain under your breath getting up to open the door before your girlfriend can stop you.

You open the door to find the west group’s captain on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. You can already guess where this is going, waving your sleep a goodbye in your head for another night. Sometimes it felt like the planet would stop turning and freeze over if you took just thirty minutes to have a break. You contemplate shutting the door in his face but you’re just not that kind of person, besides there could be an actual emergency needing your attention.

“What can I do for you?” You offer instead.

“I need you to come look at one of our guys, he got an arrow to his knee and…” He keeps rumbling.

“Do you know what time it is!?” shutting him up your girlfriend inserts herself into the door frame, her arms already folded over her broad chest in anger. “You have like ten other doctors to look after him, let this one have a night of sleep, Jesus Christ.”

“But he’s…” He tries to argue with her, not knowing it’s equivalent to signing your own death certificate.

“He’s not going to die till morning. For fucks sake.” Not letting him continue she shuts the door with a harsh swing. “You really need to learn how to say no sometimes.” She admonishes you being in a rage.

“Thank you, my knight in a shining armor.” It’s only half joke because you know deep down she’s right and people need to stop using you so much. “What would I do without you.”

“Die of sleep deprivation.” The look on her face is serious but you see it in her eyes she’s not actually mad at you.

Hugging her neck you give her a loving kiss, content you might actually get some sleep in tonight now. She picks you up forcing you to hang your lets around her waist and carries you back to bed, wrapping herself around you like a snake to stop you from getting up again and also because she loves your affection and scent. It wasn’t hard to get sleepy again in her warm embrace full of love and care.

“Now sleep.” She commands you and you have no intention to disobey her.

Sometimes you really didn’t know what you’d do without her, but she felt equally lost in the world without you. She couldn’t let you get yourself hurt one way or another, partly because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you weren’t by her side. At this point she couldn’t imagine her life without you.

#abby anderson comfort #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2 #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 9.1 - tiny dancer

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 1700

a quick fluffy finale of the new year's eve chapter trilogy ;-)

☾

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady Seamstress for the band Pretty-eyed, pirate smile You'll marry a music man

☾

New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year

"Wait!"

You flinched at Eddie's sudden outburst, startling you in the calm atmosphere of the frozen lake. The brown-eyed boy leapt off the back of the van, shaking off the blanket that had been draped around his shoulders.

Watching him with amusement, you downed the rest of your beer, finally feeling a little warmth burning inside of you.

"The hell are you on, Munson?"

In a dramatic fashion, Eddie leaned forward in front of you with a hand outstretched.

"May I have this dance?"

"Uh… what?" you blurted out, looking around. You didn't really know what you were looking for, though, as the only thing around you was this spontaneous man with a permanent sweet smile on his face.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but didn't drop his hand. "Sunshine, did I stutter? Dance with me."

"I don't dance."

"You speak fucking French, but you don't dance?"

"Oui."

"Ugh!" He turned around, staring off into the pitch black night. You caught the subtle movement as he checked his watch.

Enjoying being stubborn, you reached for another can of beer and cracked it open. "You know, I never took you for the dancing type…"

But he ignored your comment, spinning around to face you again. Eddie stepped towards you and rested his hands on either side of where you sat, dangerously close to you. His mischievous eyes followed yours, then the beverage as you raised it to your lips.

"Could you be any more boring, Buckley?"

He knew damn well what he was doing. He knew exactly what would get you out of the van. Eddie challenged your bravery, contested your cool composure. And it worked.

You set down your beer slowly, refusing to meet his proud gaze. You took your time removing the blanket and eventually lifted yourself to stand before him.

"Well, what now?"

Eddie checked his watch again. "Give me your hands, I'll lead."

"It's freezing out here," you complained, dragging out the inevitable, but reluctantly placed your gloved hands into his.

He grinned at you and pulled you close. "Quit your bitchin'."

The fact that your stomach was doing tiny backflips wasn't lost on you. Somehow, Eddie was a furnace in the freezing darkness, his warmth radiating through the thick jacket covering his chest. You brushed your head softly on his chin, enjoying the glimmer of the rings on his hand in the soft light emanating from the open van.

Turning you slowly, Eddie rested one hand on your waist and held the other in his own hand. Swaying a bit, you heard him mumble close to your ear.

"Not that bad, is it?"

"But there's no music."

Taking you by surprise, Eddie began to hum. 

You couldn't quite place the song. But something about it felt like coming home, like reminiscing on a precious memory. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his collarbone. The vibrations in his chest as he hummed the tune could have lulled you to sleep if every nerve in your body wasn't on fire.

It could have been hours gone by, minutes, whatever. You didn't remember the last time you felt this kind of peace, the internal war raging within you coming to a halt.

"Five… four…"

Realizing that Eddie was suddenly counting down to midnight, your chest constricted with need. Lifting your eyes, his dark orbs weren't meeting yours, but rather he was watching your mouth. You couldn't control your urge to follow his lips as he proceeded to count.

"...three… two…"

Pushing up on your toes, the kiss you pressed to him was tender but as scorching as the sun.

Eddie grabbed you harder, pulling your ribcage against his as if he was afraid you might run off, his other hand holding the back of your head. You kissed him forcefully, needing him to know just how much you wanted it.

You didn't care that you probably tasted like beer, or that his jacket smelled slightly of cigarette smoke. You didn't care that it was freezing. You didn't give a flying fuck what your parents would think of this, or your friends at school. 

All that mattered was that Eddie was there, and he was holding you, tasting you. You melted together, ceasing to be separate individuals at that moment.

Fireworks began to pop across the lake, almost muted at the far distance. The lights distracted the man in your arms for a moment as he pulled away from you.

"No," you huffed, using your gloved hand to usher his face back to yours. You didn't care much about the fireworks. Only this.

Your demanding motion to continue kissing him almost sent Eddie over the edge. He pushed you closer to the van until the backs of your thighs hit the bumper.

You immediately lifted your backside into the van, wrapping your arms around him and urging his body to settle between your legs. Your kissing was sweltering, a hot beacon of light that rivaled the New Year's fireworks being set off across the lake.

But when you ran your tongue over his lip, asking for more, Eddie stopped.

He didn't move his feet though, keeping his stance firm with your legs resting on his hips.

"What's wrong?" Your breathing was ragged, your lips almost swollen.

Eddie sighed and rubbed his eyes, seeming to be on the hunt for the right words to say. "Nothing's wrong at all."

"Then come here," you hooked your index fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, tugging his hips closer to yours. 

But still, he stopped and moved away, leaning against the van next to you.

Eddie was quick to speak. "Before you say anything - that was the best fucking thing to happen to me in all of 1984."

You looked at him, still dazed by the kissing and sudden lack of warm contact. "But 1984 just started."

"I know, and I'm telling you. That was the best fucking thing. Thank you."

"You're… welcome?"

Eddie let out a bark of laughter, running a hand through his hair. He snuck a quick glance at you to see you smiling, too.

"Maybe if I'm lucky we can pick back up on this another time, yeah?" he suggested.

You looked away from him, the insecure voice in the back of your head wondering if you did something to turn him off. But you also weren't stupid. Horny teenage urges aside - Eddie was right, and nothing like this needed to be rushed.

Plus, they weren't even officially dating. You wondered if that was even a thing that Eddie Munson was capable of; you had never seen him with a girl before, but also never really went out of your way to look.

The comfort that you felt with him in the darkness of these winter nights made you feel like an entirely new person, the person you longed to be. Without prying eyes, without judgment from others. You found yourself dreading going back to school on Monday. The real world.

Eddie nudged your arm softly, breaking you out of your anxious thoughts. 

"You okay?" 

"What time is it?" You reached for Eddie's wrist, reading the time. "Shit, shit, shit. Can you take me home? But drop me off on the corner of my street, I told Robin I’d meet her an hour after midnight."

☾

Ballerina, you must've seen her Dancing in the sand And now she's in me, always with me Tiny dancer in my hand

☾

You wrapped your arm around Robin's slender shoulder as you both walked down the street to your house.

Eddie was gone, disappearing into the mysterious night. You had pecked him on the cheek as a farewell before exiting his van to wait for Robin under the streetlight. You sure you'll be safe getting home? …don't worry about me, Munson.

"So tell me all about your night, Robbie. I missed you."

Robin smiled briefly, her breath coming out like tiny clouds in the cold night air. "I got a New Year's hug. But hey, it was the best fucking New Year's hug I've ever gotten."

Eddie's words reverberated through your mind, but you shook them off.

"Really? Even better than the time Aunt Carol hugged you so hard her boobs knocked out your front baby tooth?" you joked.

You enjoyed making your younger sister laugh more than anything. Doubled over in a fit of giggles, Robin almost had tears in her eyes. 

"Oh my gosh, how do you remember that? I think my seven-year-old brain tried to block that from my memory."

"Me too, but Aunt Carol was a real trip. I still remember the look on your face."

Robin sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her blue eyes. "Happy New Year, by the way."

They walked slowly, strolling down the block, not in any rush to get back home to your parents. You pulled your sister a little closer.

"Happy New Year, Robin. One year closer to getting the hell outta Hawkins."

Side-eyeing her older sister suddenly, Robin pressed you for any details about your night. "Did you and Eddie have a good time?"

As usual, your defenses went up. You almost didn't want to answer your sister's innocent question.

For a split second, you genuinely questioned yourself, wondering why you felt so protective over your private life. Did you really have to hide your feelings for Eddie Munson? Did you really care what people thought of you?

When it came to Robin, no. But when it came to your looming fears over school on Monday morning, your stomach turned.

"I'll keep it simple for you. I had the perfect night. And I watched fireworks, too."

Robin's warm smile and a squeeze of her hand reassured you that life was good. Letting down your walls wasn't such a terrible thing.

☾

But, oh, how it feels so real Lying here with no one near Only you, and you can hear me When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer, tiny dancer Count the headlights on the highway Lay me down in sheets of linen You had a busy day today

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John)

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[thoughtsfromlayla]

Chapter Two - Trepidation

Summary: With palace life, you are never truly alone, but that doesn't mean you aren't lonely. Even when you meet new people, it seems they place you at an arm's length away. You walked on eggshells while people worshiped the very steps all the same. 

Notes: ~5.1k words, centers a lot around Reader this chapter, Morpheus doesn't appear until the later bits soz

Warnings: Morpheus being a lil bitch, reader is a chronic overthinker and same girlie

Tag list is open! Just let me know :)

☾ ✴ ๋࣭ ⭑․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․

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Trepidation (n.) - a feeling of fear or anxiety about something that may yet happen

It’s very unlady-like to sneak back into your own room. You had only done it once before, when you were younger and less refined and even then you were caught by the housekeeper soon after. But this time it seems the stakes are raised. The halls are completely empty, the moon still has domination over the night sky, and the sun has yet to make its debut.

You have stayed in Morpheus’ bed for a few hours after he left you alone. The rules of palace life are still vague to the best of your knowledge, but after tossing and turning without getting any sleep, you figure it would just be easier to do it in the comforts of your own room. Is this considered rude? You’re not entirely sure. It seems rude to leave your husband’s chambers on the night of your wedding. Then you remind yourself that nothing actually happened… so perhaps it wasn’t as crude as your mind made it out to be. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you see a lone guard stood at the front of your door. Your hands are quick to cross over your chest, the mere nightgown you were wearing was certainly not presentable to anyone else’s eyes. You stay frozen as you glance over his appearance. You were so dead. They’re going to hang you by the gallows and parade your sad body throughout the kingdom as a warning to other maidens that sneak out of their husbands rooms in the middle of the night. 

The knight is dressed in black armor, completely different from the other soldiers you’ve seen around the castle who seem to don silver instead. His helmet represents that of a bird of some kind, a raven if you had to guess. With his arm crossed, he came off domineering and revered and you had half of a mind to turn back around so you wouldn’t get caught by him. 

The beak of his helmet clinks against his chest plate and your muscles stiffen while confusion swipes across your face. A loud snore completely catches you off guard and you brace your teeth against each other as the sound reverberates across the empty halls. Your eyes dart around, hoping to any deity that is willing to listen to you that no one was around to hear. 

A long pause passes and not even a cricket chirps. Another snore emits from the black knight before you consider it safe to pass. You slide your feet across the floor, keeping your footsteps as quiet as possible as you walk up to the bedroom door. Every noise seems to heighten to something ten times greater than what it actually was. The click of the door knob, the slight creak of the door, and the locking mechanism all made you grimace in case it is enough to wake the sleeping knight. 

The bed is grandiose, cool, firm, and simply perfect against your tired body. You think that you would get a few winks of sleep before the sun rises. Yet, even in moments of peace your mind wanders to Morpheus. His words are like cough syrup in your mind, they coat every crevice of your thoughts, no matter how unwelcomed they were. 

“I am no monster,” His words echo in your mind. 

But he is a cheater… is he not? To (not) so secretly see his previous lover at his wedding and to chase after her, leaving you alone on the dance floor surrounded by doting couples. To admit to her that he still loved her. The confession that wasn’t meant for your ears still cut into your unguarded heart, leaving it broken before it could even flourish. 

You try to distract yourself by counting the amount of swirls that were painted on the ceiling. Each time you get somewhere past 50 your mind wanders again to last night and you start over. By the time the first sign of daybreak makes it past the heavy curtains, you feel your eyes begin to droop. With a deep breath you welcome sleep, finally. 

…

It doesn’t last, not even a second, when the doors to your room open with a slam. Your body reacts quickly to it and sits up with a start. You stare face to face with Agnes, who wears her own surprise on her face before she returns her emotions neutral. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I presumed you were with the King. May I draw a bath and get you ready for the day?” She asks. 

“Um, yes,” You reply hesitantly. You watch as she goes to some conjoined room you didn’t notice before and enters it.

There's the sound of objects being moved around and water sloshing before steam fills the room. The scent of something sweet fills the air as she walks out. She gestures for you to come to her, which you do so with heavy feet. 

Sleep once again tugs on your eyelids and you barely register when she removes your nightgown from your body. The warmth of the bath lulls you further into the tub and you reluctantly lean your head against your folded knees. 

Agnes, seeing her queen in, well for lack of a better word, utter disarray, goes back to the cupboards and starts looking for some other herbs. She stacks the boxes on top of each other before making her way to your side. With a certain amount of gentleness, she places the boxes on the floor and kneels in front of the bathtub. 

“Cinderbon flakes for muscle aches, my queen,” She starts as she sprinkles the red flakes into the water. “And some rose petals for romance.” Agnes pauses as she hears you groan under your mop of steamed hair. 

She hesitantly places the rose petals into the water just as she did with the flakes before. “Lastly, some milk from a Natterhorn to aid with sleep…” She whispers finally as she pours a ceramic jug of cream colored milk into the water. 

She mixes the concoction slowly with her hand before adding another bucket of hot water to help you relax further. You hate to admit it, but everything she added certainly helped. You feel her move behind you as she begins to wash your hair, ridding the last of the stardust from the wedding night. Agnes keeps quiet, presuming that is what you wanted most, and she would be correct. 

The maid doesn’t comment on why you were not in the King’s chambers, nor how there wasn’t a single blotch of red on your nightgown, a telltale sign of any consummation. She’s curious, but she knows it’s best not to say anything in case she loses her tongue over it. If she were any younger, she’d be running off to her other maid co-workers and sharing the new gossip, but after a rather traumatic event to an old friend, she’s learned her lesson through her. 

“I’ll leave you to soak, Your Majesty.” Agnes wipes her hands on her apron as she approaches the door. “Please, ring the bell when you wish to be dressed for the day, my lady.” With that the door is shut and you’re left alone once more. 

“Please stop calling me your majesty,” You mutter to yourself.

Titles are not uncommon in your life, but something about “your majesty” was too much for you. It separates you too much from those who will take care of you. You miss your own lady’s maid, the one that has grown with you since infancy.

That title seems too grand, it places you on a pedestal and you can already feel the height it has placed you at. You’re afraid if you peak over the edge, you will plummet to your death. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong tick, and everything would be over. You walk on eggshells while people worship the very steps all the same. 

Eventually, when the bath starts to run cold and your fingers are beyond wrinkled, you leave the bathtub. You wrap a towel around your body and tug on the bell that hangs by your bed. Soon after, Agnes appears again, this time with an army of maids behind her. They’re quick to make work of you, easily dressing, combing, and readying you within the half hour. 

When they left your room once again, you’re fighting with the corset string behind your back. Agnes had somehow managed to tighten it beyond human comprehension and then manage to hide the strings beyond your fingers. After a frustrating few minutes with no results, you give up with a huff. 

Cautiously you open the door, peeking your head out. You weren’t exactly given a schedule for today and if sleep wasn’t going to find you, you might as well find something else to do. For example, exploring the castle. Hopefully, no one would point a finger at you and get you into any trouble. 

“Oh, good morning, Your Majesty,” A voice calls out close to your ear. 

“Ah!” You scream, your hand comes up and pain tingles across your palm as it makes contact with metal. 

“Ah!” The voice screams back as the slap makes contact with his helmet. It doesn’t hurt, the armor doing its job quite well, but the noise was bouncing around the helmet, rendering it no better than a bell. “What an arm you have there, Your Majesty.”

You stare wide eyed at the black knight as your pulsing hand places itself over your accelerated heartbeat. 

“You!” You gasp with a pointed finger as the knight finally registers in your mind. “You’re the one that I snuck past last night… this morning?” You correct yourself. You drop your finger quickly, realizing perhaps a bit too late how rude it was. 

At your comment, the black knight stiffens. “Er… What do you mean you snuck past me? I was guarding the door, no one came in or out.”

You blink, once, twice. “Right, you fell asleep?” You say in a way that may help him remember. That snore he made was surely a thought to remember. 

His head cocks to the side, making him look all the more bird-like with his helmet on, and he stays like that for an awkward amount of time. Your eyes darted off to the side when he still hadn’t responded to you. 

“What?” His response finally came. You could hear the embarrassed smile behind the helmet. “Haha… what?” He says again, laughing dryly. 

“Well, I won’t tell anyone, but I guess you probably shouldn’t do that.” You try to soothe him to the best of your capabilities. 

“I’m new?” Came his defeated response, his armor clanks against each other as he slumps from his perfect posture.

With a heavy sigh he turns around and bangs his head to the crevice between the door and the wall. The sigh leaves the crevices of his helmet like a whisper, reverating between the metal to make it sound like a soft caaaaaaa…. The helmet makes a heavy gong sound as it makes contact with the wall. Another sigh comes before he speaks again. Caaaa….

“I just got this job, I just got sworn into knighthood by the King, how can I mess up already. I’ve been in the academy for so long, I mean granted I wasn’t the best, but I still made it to the personal guard… right? I graduated, didn't I?” At this point, you’re sure he’s mostly talking to himself.

Moping would’ve been a better word for it, actually. 

“What is your name, good sir?” You ask with a tap on his shoulder. It was mainly to get him to stop groaning and moaning so loudly in the halls. 

He turns around, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and answers. “Sir Matthew, Your Majesty.” He salutes as he does so, bringing one arm behind his back, the fist of the other over his heart. Your mind rattles as it remembers the symbolism for the salute: Your heart for the kingdom, cover your back for you will stab your own before your brothers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir Matthew,” You greet for the first time. “I’m Y/N.” You curtsy to him, which he returns with a low bow at the waist. 

“Oh, yes, I know who you are, Your Majesty.” He nods as he returns to his regular position. His hand rests easily on the hilt of his sword. 

Of course he knows who you are. The moment turns ever the more awkward, and you’re determined to leave the situation. With a final nod you turn to walk away, anywhere was better than here. It’s not a few steps later that you hear the synchronized steps of Matthew following behind. When you paused, his steps paused, too. You take two steps, his steps followed, two steps exactly. 

“Sir Matthew?” You question as you turn around and face him. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you following me?”

A confused pause. “Yes?”

“Okay… Why?” You ask. You could feel a tension headache forming along the crown of your head and you’re not sure if it’s the tight hairdo or Matthew himself. 

“I am your personal royal knight, Your Majesty,” He explains as if the information was self-evident. 

“Ah,” You respond. You’re still confused, but whatever. 

You begin to walk again and Matthew’s footsteps follow. Stopping briefly you turn to him again. “And you follow me everywhere?”

“Yes, always three steps behind.”

You raise an eyebrow as you take a step backwards. You watch as Matthew takes a step forward, copying you. You take a step forward and he takes one back. 

“This might get annoying.” You think to yourself as you begin to walk normally again. Now you have a nanny. An idea strikes you then and you turn around abruptly once again. 

“Sir Matthew,” You start.

“You can just call me Matthew, your grace, if that pleases you better.” He quickly interjects. 

“Fine. Matthew,” You pointedly say. “What exactly are your duties? Your responsibilities?”

“Well, I look after you, my queen. I make sure you aren’t to be harmed and do as you so wish. Though I would prefer if your wishes for me can be solved with brute force.” Matthew explains simply. 

“If I were to wish you to not follow me?” You ask unsubtly. 

“I cannot, it is within my creed, and orders from His Majesty.”

You intertwined your fingers in front of you again, twiddling the digits between each other as you thought to yourself. Matthew stares forward as you do so, staying quiet until you speak again. 

“If I were to ask you to make sure a certain person never sees me?” You ask slowly. 

“I would make it so you forget they exist,” Matthew answers brutally. 

You internally scoff as he says so. It would be near impossible to forget such a person. Jealousy courses through your veins as you think of her. Perfect curls, smooth skin, and soft pink and gold. 

“Do you know of a woman named Calliope?” You ask finally. “I wish to never see her.” 

Matthew stays silent for a few moments, and you think you’re already overstepping your boundaries. The knight did mention in passing that your orders are easily overruled by the King’s. Perhaps you didn’t have enough power to ask him of this, especially knowing the relationship between the two. 

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” Matthew’s head tilts to the side once more and it suddenly dawns on you that he probably knows the affair was happening. Knights are silent but that doesn’t mean they don’t listen. And surely he would have heard about their love story and how a random woman comes in and marries the King, turning a perfect love story into an affair. 

You turn before he can say anything else. A stone finds its way into your throat and a silent cry almost makes its way out of you. Your steps quicken, hoping that some distance will prevent Matthew from seeing the growing frown on your face. 

The castle, for the most part, looks like every other part of the castle. The halls are long and winding. It was made of old stone, smelled heavily of petrichor, and decorated with arts from several centuries. Busts of kings and queens past are set periodically throughout the hallways. Most of the rooms you managed to peek into are empty, with white cloths covering the outline of beds and tables. 

You do manage to find something interesting but it is locked behind a set of heavy doors. Even with Matthew behind you, you know it best to not ask him to cut the door open so you may look behind what those huge barriers were hiding. You gave up as soon as one sharp tug did nothing to the locked secret. 

You continue exploring, eventually finding yourself outside. You walk along the colonnade, the castle’s arching design taking over the columns throughout the roofed walkway. Occasionally you could smell the hanging wisterias when the wind blew past. 

“Wow,” You sigh with admiration. You peer over the railing, hand supporting yourself, at the grand garden the castle had hiding behind its hedges and walls. 

The garden was filled with even more statues, fountains, and flowers that created a beautiful mosaic of nature and all of its inhabitants. You can see the various species of butterflies and bees that flew around pollinating the flowers in late spring. 

A moving, round orange thing catches your attention as it moves meticulously through the garden. As if sensing your attention, it turns and stares at you. Your eyes widen even further as you realize that it was a sentient pumpkin man. Smoke puffs out of his eyes and mouth as he takes another long drag from his pipe cigarette. His gloves and overalls are covered in dirt, but he somehow manages to keep his white undershirt pristine. He grumbles before returning to his work, his wooden frame groaning as he lifts a particularly heavy ceramic jar to a new location. 

Giggling interrupts your observation as a group of women come closer to you. Matthew moves to the side as you turn to face them. You give them a smile and they curtsy to you in return. Judging by their clothing, they were certainly noble, or ladies with titles. 

You go to open your mouth, to greet them, or introduce yourself. Perhaps even to invite them to afternoon tea, but before you can they’re quick to leave, giggles continuing. 

“I heard that King Morpheus didn’t even touch her last night, during their consummation,” One whispers, giggles littered between the words. She thought it was quiet enough, but the design of the colonnade let you hear every word she gossiped to her friend. 

“Probably because the King still loves Lady Calliope,” The other chortles back. “Gosh, can you even imagine? Marrying a man who already has a mistress?”

“How dreadful indeed.” 

Your words die in your mouth as you listen to what they say.

“It’s just gossip.” You try to reason without yourself. “Yeah, gossip based on true events. In which case, they’re just speaking the truth.”

Matthew only watches you as you try to regain your composure. He watches as you close your eyes and take in a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before letting go through your mouth. He’s done the same breathing exercise several times before tournaments. He doesn’t particularly find himself caring for palace gossip, to be quite honest he was too concerned with being the best knight he could to listen in. 

He knew of Calliope, sure, but that was due to her extended stay as a diplomat from a neighboring kingdom. She was often seen in the hallways, or sharing court with the King on how to further the alliance between the two kingdoms. They were always amiable, but perhaps Matthew was too thick in the helmet to notice anything more. 

“Matthew, how can I get down to the garden?” His queen’s voice brings him out of his own thoughts. 

“Down the corridor, there is a set of stairs, my lady,” He answers with a nod in the right direction. 

“Perfect, let’s make our way down then,” You smile at him and turn quickly. Tears prick at your eye line once again, but you’re determined to not let them fall. Never.  

Just as Matthew pointed out, a layered staircase leads you straight into the royal gardens, just past the large fountain was a labyrinth of roses that you know you’ll explore some other time. You take your time hunting down the pumpkin head man, stopping by the garden fountain and playing with the little tetras that lived in the water. 

You tuck a few strands of stray hair back into place using the water’s reflection before you decide to continue on your side quest. The pumpkin man finds you first before you could find him. Smoke still puffs out of his eyes and mouth and he raises a vine that acts as his eyebrow when he sees you. 

“Ay, you look familiar, I feel like I should know you or something.” He gestures towards you with his pipe. He takes another long drag before recognition takes over his face. “Ah, you’re the new boss lady.” He claps his gloved hands together.

“That’s me.” You smile. “Are you a gardener?” 

Matthew taps you on your shoulder before leaning close to your ear. “Can I also call you boss lady?” He whispers, hiding his words with a hand from the pumpkin head’s view.

“On special occasions,” You jest quickly before returning your attention to the squash. 

“Put some respect to my name, why don’t you. Sorry, I’ve got a mouth on me. Probably why the big boss puts me away from people.” He grumbles and turns away. 

You go to follow him as he continues to move a large bag of soil over his shoulders. 

“Oh, this job is going to kill me,” He groans under the weight of the soil. “I need new branches, these are getting too brittle for me.” He explains to you behind him. 

He takes you to a new part of the garden where everything was quite bare except for a lone tree and a small pond. It was a beautiful little get away once he placed new flowers and other decors. 

“By the way, I’m Mervyn, no titles, just Mervyn Pumpkinhead,” He answers your previous question. “Yes, I’m a gardener, and janitor, and fixer upper, whatever.” He huffs another puff from his pipe. 

He looks at you up and down, your soft smile was that similar to the sun now that he really looks at you. Also your youth surely gave you some more muscle than him. 

“Ehh, now that I’m looking at cha… why don’t you plant the flowers in this area then. I’ll give you full control, I have other things to do today.”

He hands you a small shovel and points to a stack of nursery plants off to the side. You open your palm and the dirt covered tool falls into your hands. You’ve never gardened before, but you think you can manage. Mervyn is off before you could protest, anyway. 

You grab a few potted nursery plants and ask Matthew to grab the rest before you start digging holes and planting them. It takes time and a little bit of effort, but soon enough you’ve planted the pieces where you think they would bloom nicely. You dust off the caked on dirt on the front of your dress with a satisfied sigh. 

A small tickling sensation makes you see a small caterpillar crawling on your forearm, bringing it to your eye level to admire the small creature. You turn to Matthew to show him the cute little thing, but his gloved hand comes closer, snatching the small bug from your body. Before you could say much, Matthew unhinges the mouthpiece of his helmet and throws the poor caterpillar into the void. 

“Matthew!” You exclaim, shock ripples through you in fits of laughter. You are in total disbelief; your eyes and ears can’t process what you’ve just witnessed as Matthew continues to chew on the bug. 

“Hmmm, takes like chicken,” He comments before bringing his hand over his beak and hinging it back into place. 

You’re still gawking at him, your hand goes to cover your mouth, muffling your next words. “You… just ate a bug!”

“Oh, shit,” Matthew swears as he returns to his perfect three pace away stance. His posture returns stick straight and you’re about to ask him what changed his behavior when someone calls out your name. 

“Y/N?” A new voice joins your conversation and you turn around, ignoring the satisfied hum that came from Matthew as he swallows his little afternoon snack. 

“Morpheus,” You breathe out, disbelief has yet to leave you. 

This time around, the king is accompanied by two other figures. One, dressed almost identical to Matthew, the only difference is the white crest that bore the King’s symbol proudly in the middle of her chestplate. The other wore typical court clothing, a large book was resting between her arms and hip, her glasses gleaming in the outdoor sun. Silence follows the curt greeting that was cut by a forced cough. 

“Greetings to you, Your Majesty. I am the royal court advisor, Lucienne.” The one in glasses introduces herself and gives you a warm smile that you returned. 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lucienne.” 

“And this is Captain Jessamy of the royal guard,” Lucienne continues. You give a smile to Jessamy who returns it with the same salute that Matthew did this morning. The white crest on his chest plate shines brightly in the sun and you can tell, even without seeing her face, that she bares the symbol proudly. 

In contrast to the two women, Morpheus looked like he would rather be anywhere than here, making conversation with you. His face shared the similar frown on his lips that your father shared when he was having a difficult day. 

“Has your day been well, my lord?” You ask, taking the risk of his potential wrath. Matthew is good company, but you fear it’s not the company you seek. 

Agnes and your maids are there for you, but they could never quite understand what you go through, would they? Mervyn was nice, a nice breath of fresh air (or smoke in his case). He talked to you as if you were just as equal as any other, but there was still a distance that he put you at. 

Everyone held you at an arm’s distance. 

Even now as you look at your husband, the very definition of pristine, proper, and passive, he too stood further away from you than would have been deemed necessary. 

“No,” He replies dryly. 

You wait a moment, thinking that he would go into elaborate detail as to why. But, those few seconds pass and the two of you, nor your company, have moved an inch. You’re all too aware of how you look now, hair fussed, hands and dress covered in dirt. It’s the exact opposite of Morpheus. 

“What His Majesty means to say, is that there was a rather difficult court meeting we had to attend to this morning. It did not go as planned.” Lucienne interjects when the silence becomes too much, even for her. She enjoyed silence, don’t get her wrong, but this was just painful to witness. 

“Oh,” You frowned at the newly presented information. “Would you like me to join you next time? I believe two heads would be better-”

“No,” Morpheus interrupts you with a raised hand. 

Your mouth shuts slowly and you think your heart cracks a little more in your chest. To not love you is one thing, understandable even if you gave it enough time. But, to not even let you into his court, to help him rule his kingdom as his equal. It’s like the words he spoke from your wedding night meant nothing to him now. You were nothing but a common bird trapped in a golden cage. 

Morpheus’ notices, it’s hard not to when you so clearly express your emotions on your face. The thought of an apology crosses his mind for interrupting you, but it quickly gets buried by other thoughts of his kingdom. There was the tension of his sibling’s kingdom, wanting to wage a useless war against his Dreaming. His other missing brother, his sister who decided royal life was not for her and decided to travel the world. In all truth, his family was just as messy as the politics he spoke of that morning. The burden is not his to share, it’s not yours to carry either in his mind. 

“Well,” You clear your throat, your fingers unknowingly playing with the strands of your matching bracelets. “Is there anything I can do here?” 

“Do whatever you want, Y/N,” He answers honestly. With a look behind you and the general state of your appearance he speaks again. “It seems as if you have already found gardening.”

He walks away without another word. Lucienne and Jessamy follow without a word either, and you stare at his receding figure until you’re unsure if it’s his black robe you're looking at or merely a far away tree. 

Anger rises inside of you and you snap the bracelet against your skin to prevent it from bubbling to the surface. At the corner of your eyes, you can see the same girls you met earlier, peering at you over the railing of the colonnade. No doubt gathering more gossip to spread to their friends. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that bug.” Matthew’s comment brings you out of your own self-loathing. 

You smooth a finger across your wrist that has long since turned red and face your attention to your knight. 

“Captain Jessamy is so cool. Did you see that white crest on her chest? Gosh, what I would give to get one of those. But, nooo, she’s just so perfect of course she would be the only one so far to have that. God! Why did I eat that bug!” Matthew’s admiration turns to jealousy like the flick of a flame. He sighs again and the air pushes out of his helmet. Caaaaa….

“I don’t think she noticed you eating it,” You reply in earnest with the slight raise of your shoulders. 

“You think?”

“I wouldn’t dwell too long on it.” 

I fear our lovers are going to have a shit time next chapter. Hope you like even more angst :)

♡ Yours, Layla

Tags: @dnarez @arunawayheart

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #lord morpheus #destined dreams of love

[lonleydweller]

after finally watching Texas chainsaw massacre 1974, I must say that nubbins. Nubbins kinda hot...

Anyway! Can I have a thing for after nubbins got darling back and the family reaction to darling having tried escaping?

-🔪

🥀Pig-Pen🥀

Raaah tyy!! I'm glad you like enough for a part 2!! I will gladly write more for the feral gremlin man!!

!Warnings!: spoilers for tcm 1974, mentioned injuries, violence towards darling, threats towards darling, cannibalism, sadism, swearing

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

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The old, rickety, dingey screen door of the sawyer household slams shut with a groan. Your feet drag along the floor as you're hauled inside the house by Nubbins. Greeted by the all too familiar smell of rotting meat and iron. You can hear a voice shouting from the other room.

"Godammit boy! Did they try running off again? Huh? Is that what all this ruckus is about? I told you I'm already pushing it by letting you keep them here!"

You recognized it as the eldest brother of the three. A horrific trio. Bubba, Nubbins, and of course Drayton. While he appeared more normal on the surface, he was certainly no less insane as the other two. Simply wanting you dead and cooked. Which at this point may as well be an act of mercy.

"I- it ain't none of yer business! I- I've got it dealt w-with! Like I always do!"

Nubbins retorts as he shifts you around in his hold. Still with a vice grip. Arms snaked tight around your ribcage like a viper. Drayton swiftly appears in the doorway of the dining room, with his usual scowl on his face. Bickering back at his brother, gesturing at you angrily.

"They're disrupting the whole damn house! I tell you if you can't keep them in check I'm gonna-"

He's cut off by Nubbins barking at him, stomping his foot like a belligerent child.

"Y-you ain't gonna do nuthin! Yous ain't got the guts to do nuthin! You're just the c-cook!"

Drayton opens his mouth to speak again, but Nubbins cuts him off with childish mocking, blowing raspberries. He goes silent with a huff. Momentarily, everything is silent. There's a standstill. Broken by Drayton angrily grumbling out,

"Shut yer mouth!...just get them dealt with and get your ass down for dinner."

With that he stomps off somewhere else within the pigstye of a house. Leaving you with the rabid thing that was lugging you around. For a moment, there's nothing but silence. Stillness. A rarity. There was almost always blood curdling screaming, bickering, and squealing resounding throughout the house. You hear your captor mumble under his breath

"He don't know nuthin."

For a second he starts to head towards the stairs with you, then he halts in his tracks, perking up. An idea clicking in his mind. His thoughts are as rapid as his movements. He quickly hoists you up, rushing into the nearby living room. Kicking aside the bone scraps and feathers that litter the floor. Your body jolts as you're carelessly plopped onto the sofa. It creaks with the sudden impact. Nubbins quickly moves towards another doorway, but hesitates mid way. Stopping as he points at you

"Y- you stay put! I-ill be right back..!"

In a blink of an eye he darts off to wherever. Leaving you alone. A moment of peace that would only last for a few minutes at most. You can only stare blankly stare at the wall. At the old, dull, weak, washed out wallpaper. Wondering how you got to this point. What went wrong. Well, you knew what went wrong now. Foresight and all. You should have never picked Nubbins up from the side of the scolding Texas roads. You should have just left him out there to rot.

Who knew such a simple act, the simple deed of offering someone a ride would lead to.. this. It felt surreal. All because you decided to show some ounce of kindness, you're now stuck in this hellhole. A reality you're harshly reminded of as you zone back in, feeling the leather of the ghastly sofa beneath you as your hand drifts across it. You never could get used to the feeling of sitting on the disgusting piece of furniture, the leather another humans skin, the bones that built the frame from the same source.

Everything in this house was inhumane. The people. The furniture. The food. Your mind races with the same thoughts it has before. Going on a re-run. How long have they been doing this? How many people have they cannibalized? Would the cops ever find you? Were they even looking for you? What was even the likelihood in this part of Texas? How long have you even been here? Days, weeks, months? You've lost track of the days and nights, the calendar you had found was out of date, and you haven't seen a single clock.

You're dragged out of your train of thoughts by the sound of heavy thuds against the old wooden floorboards. Heavy footsteps. A figure moves into the doorway, along with the sound of a pig like squeal. The youngest. Bubba. Looming in the doorway, staring at you through the sagging skin mask that was affixed to his face. He tilts his head at you. You can't help but do the same.

If he really wanted to he could rev up his chainsaw and hack right through you, hang you up on a meat hook, then toss your remains in a icebox. Then you'd join the rest of the bodies. Squeals, grunts, and gargled noises emit from him. Even without solid words, the tone seeps through. Sad. Pitying. Perhaps the only reason he left you alone. Torturing you would just be kicking a dead horse at this point. You two just stare, and stare, and stare at each other. Only broken up by Nubbins skittering back into the room. Face souring a bit when he sees his brother.

"H-hey, I t-thought I told you I got this dealt with! Ain't you supposed to be helpin' s-set up dinner anyways? G-go help Drayton before he starts hollerin!"

He stammers out, passive aggressively shooing his brother away from you. He didn't like them being too close to you. Especially when it came to Drayton, he'd snap, shout, and throw fits if he came even relatively close. No threats of beatings from a broomstick dettered him. Bubba was allowed a bit closer without as volatile reactions from Nubbins. Bubba in the end slinks off somewhere else in the house, presumably wherever Drayton is. Now it was just you and him again.

In Nubbins hand you can see a roll of white cloth, slightly battered and torn. It didn't look absolutely horrid but it had certainly seen better days. It clicks in your mind, was it a gauze? Surprised they even had medical supplies. Even more surprised as he grabs at your leg, your knee jerk reaction is to to recoil, to kick, to yank your leg away. He just as quickly pulls your leg back towards him. Nails digging into your skin. He pouts

"S-stay still, I- I'm trying to help you! I can't do that if ya k-keep movin..!"

He starts to half hazardly wrap the bandaid around your leg. Wrapping up the major cuts and gashes, slowly the bleeding. The stinging feeling still hasn't left. You can feel the gritty pieces of dirt stuck in them. You can clench your jaw in dread. With your luck you'd end up with an infection. He finishes up patching up one leg, guaze snug around your skin. He fixes up your other leg just as quickly. Finishing off with some loose wrap around your torso. Layered on top of all your worse for wear clothing.

"..T-there! A-all better.. now ya won't bleed out on me or nothing like that."

He sounds proud of himself. As if he hadn't been the one to put the gashes and tears there, or maybe he just didn't give two shits.

"..I'd be better if I was at home."

You weakly choke out through a sniffle. Nubbins just parrots back your cries and mocks your sad expression, before retorting

"W-well this is your home now, and you ain't g-going no where!"

His feral giggling fills the room, along with his faint little snorts. You want so badly to punch the smug toothy smile off his face, but you damn well know you're not in the position to. His greasy hand reaches up, your body instinctively tenses, he gingerly grabs a few strands of your hair. Messing with it mindlessly between his fingers. Tugging lightly at random intervals. Your attention is caught by something in the corner of your eye, Drayton entering the room. His face twisted in a annoyed frown, his default expression at this point.

"Dinner's done."

He announces, causing Nubbins to take his focus off of you. Letting go of your hair. Drayton briefly glances at you before grumbling out

"Get them to the table.. Bubba's already brought grandpa down."

With that he disappears back into the dining room. Nubbins arms wrap around you, lifting you up off of the sofa, dragging you once more through the rooms and into the dreaded dining room. A lamp made of someone's face illuminates the room, plates and silverware set out on the table, abhorrent food made with human meat are served up, a chair made with human arms for the arm rests, then to top it all off the barely living head of the household sits at the end of the table. His chair like throne. Grandpa sawyer. 'The best there ever was' in their words. A man kept alive far past his prime. He looks like a mummified corpse.

The stuffy, humidity, rancid air fills your lungs. Your stomach churns with nausea. You can feel all their eyes on you as you're plopped down onto a chair. Right beside Nubbin's. You stare down at your plate, where odd looking sausage sits. This.. this was your dinner. This was your life. This was your home now. You just stare at your plate. You didn't want to eat it. You knew what it was. They all stare at you expectantly. It was either you eat your dinner, or they'd force you to.

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[momentsbeforemass]

Socks on the floor

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.”

That’s how today’s Gospel starts. Jesus is telling us that there’s the world’s version of peace. And then there’s God’s version.

The world’s version of peace is the kind you and I get when there’s a break in the action. Two things about that kind of peace.

One – it doesn’t last. You and I know this. Sometimes we even call it “a moment’s peace.”

Two – whether we worked hard for it, or it just happened, it’s fragile. It will be wiped away by the next thing that happens.

Because the world’s version of peace is the peace of the finished task. The peace of the sleeping child. The peace of the cancelled meeting.

It’s not a question of whether that peace will end. It’s just a matter of how and when.

It’s a peace that cannot last. Because it’s just a break in the action.

And because it is just a break in the action, it’s never there when you and I need it most – when we’re right in the middle of things.

Especially things like death, divorce, addiction, illness, job loss. The hard things.

So, what’s God’s version of peace?

God’s version of peace – is peace in right in the middle of things. Even the hard things.

The difference between God’s peace and the world’s is the source.

God’s peace doesn’t come from a break in the action. God’s peace comes from making a place for God in our lives.

God freely pours out His peace for all of us. But you and I have to be smart enough to take it.

To do that, we have to build habits of peace.

That is, we have to intentionally build places within our lives, within our routine, and within ourselves to be with God.

We can have set times for Bible reading and prayer.

We can have landmarks (places, images, things we do, etc.) that we us to call us to God.

We can have moments and feelings (good, bad, or indifferent) that we turn into calls to prayer.

It can be as formal or informal as we like.

Whatever we do, we have to actually do it. And it has to lead us to a spiritual place.

But we can’t treat that place like grandma’s house. A place we only go to for Christmas or when someone dies.

We can’t treat that place like a storm shelter. A place we only run to when we hear the tornado sirens.

That place has to be our home. The place we live in, every day.

And you and I have to really live in that place of God’s peace.

Until there are dishes in the sink and socks on the floor.  

Until you and I are talking with God – taking things to God in prayer, telling God all about all of it, seeking God’s will for the big things and the small stuff – talking with God like our dearest friend.

Not just while we’re reading the Bible or saying our prayers, but in the middle of everything.

Even while we’re dropping our socks on the floor.

Today’s Readings

#Peace #God's peace #Peace in the middle of things #Habits #Socks #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Catholicism #Moments Before Mass