#I’m so glad he’s edit worthy
Note
your scooped Michael makes me so insane I wanna make shitty tiktok edits of him to toxic by Brittney Spears /pos
I think I’d explode if someone made an edit with him/pos
#ask reply#It’s Michael bitch *cunty beat plays*#captain save a hoe plays#oh mickey you’re so fineeee#literally I only take this as a compliment#makes me smile and kick my lil feet back and forth#I’m so glad he’s edit worthy
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Sky's the Limit (part 2)
hello everyone, so glad you all enjoyed part one so much - thought you deserved a little treat in the form of the next chapter and some juicy lore..
warning: some evidence to the canon that Bob fucks, mention of infinite jest, Jake flirting with anything that moves, the usual
Sky's the Limit part 2
part one
Part of the deal of getting to stay with Penny for free was occasionally helping behind the bar when she was short-staffed, or more importantly, when she had a hot date with Pete.
You had to borrow one of her old Hard Deck t-shirts, which was a little bit too snug for your liking, but you had to make do. Besides, it was a welcome break from the blank screen you had spent the last week looking at. Talking to real people, maybe that’s where inspiration will come from.
****
When Jake walks into the bar, he is determined. He is absolutely exhausted and he needs to get back into his groove, when he immediately notices it. Behind the bar there is a girl wiping down the far end, with her back turned to him. She’s in a pair of pretty short shorts and a quite snug Hard Deck t-shirt, and she’s clearly new. This should be easy.
“Could I get a drink? I’m terribly thirsty over here.” He says in the deepest, sultry Southern tone he can get.
The girl turns around, and Jake’s face drops.
It’s you, with your hair down and you’re not wearing your glasses. He swallows and subtly readjusts himself.
“Really Bagman? That’s the best you’ve got?”
He puffs his chest a little. “I’m surprised you can even tell it’s me from over there. I’m pretty sure that’s a safety hazard.”
“I’ve got contacts in, dumbass. Although I don’t need my glasses to know a sore loser when I see one.”
“And I would have thought that bar work is below such a worthy scholar like yourself.”
“I’m helping Aunt Penny. She’s got a date with Pete. Or wait, you guys call him Maverick.” Jake nods. You look at his hands. “Corona right?”
Jake is taken slightly aback. “Yeah, that’s right.” You pull out a bottle and open it.
He takes a swig, before yawning. “Hot date, eh? That’s good for some.”
“Tell me about it.” You say without thinking, before correcting yourself. “I can’t believe the great Bagman isn’t constantly inundated with women throwing themselves at him.” He looks at you in a way that makes you feel very exposed all of a sudden. “I mean, in spite of your terrible pick up lines.”
“Yeah, well I’m not going to waste my good ones on you am I?” Jake regrets it a little the moment he says it, but you carry on wiping glasses, seemingly unaffected.
“I’m just saying they could probably do with an edit or two.”
“You’re going to give me tips, are you? Thanks but no thanks.” He leans over the bar. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.” He catches a whiff of whatever perfume you’re wearing. Damn, if it doesn’t smell good.
You lean back and raise your hands up. “Alright, good luck then. I need to get back to work.”
Jake wants to think of a witty retort but you’re already gone. He picks up his beer and walks over to the pool table where the other pilots are waiting. He doesn’t know why he feels hot, but he hopes it will go away. It has to go away, right?
***
“Earth to Hangman?” Tash waves her hand in front of his face. “It’s your turn.” She’s still holding the darts.
“Oh right, sure.” He tries to focus on the board, throwing his darts even quicker than usual.
“It’s annoying you’re still good at that when you’re clearly not even paying attention.” Tash huffs.
Jake looks over to you as you serve one of the older gentlemen.
“So what do we know about this ‘Ladybug’?” He asks, still not prising his eyes away.
“Great, Hangman has a crush.” Tash swats his arm. “I like this one Jake, I’m not letting you drive her away.”
“I’m not going to. Besides, she’s Penny’s niece so she’s not going anywhere.” He turns to her and Bob, who is looking at his phone. “But there’s something odd about her right?”
“You’re just saying that because she doesn’t immediately want to jump your bones, Bagman.”
Bob keeps looking at his phone. He had in fact looked her up after your last conversation. He did find it odd that you had clearly already finished your pHD because he had already read your thesis, which had already been published. However, it was rare he had something over Jake, and he liked you, so he decided to say nothing. He wasn’t sure what you were working on, but whatever it was, he was sure it was your business.
Jake needed to work for this one.
Bob looks at Jake, who is intently watching as a skinny guy in glasses and some faded band t-shirt leans over, talking to you. You lean in, your arms slightly squeezing your chest towards him. Unbeknownst to anyone, Jake feels himself getting hot again all of a sudden. This scrawny little rat? Really? He downs his beer.
“Anyone want another drink?”
****
You return to the bar and look around. Cute Glasses Guy is nowhere to be seen.
“Bagman, did you see where that guy went?”
“What guy?” Jake twiddles with his toothpick, desperately avoiding eye contact. You look him over.
“You know exactly which guy. Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are a terrible liar.” You cross your arms. “What did you say to him?”
Jake finally turns to look at you.
“Look, you’re better off without him. He was about two minutes away from telling you how much he loved Infinite Jest. “
“Well at least he could probably read it, unlike you. I’m surprised you even know who David Foster Wallace is.”
“I’m full of surprises. Unlike him. You do not want a guy who dresses like he got lost in a vintage store in Portland, and wants you to invest in his startup to help buy polaroids for orphans.”
You cross your arms.
“So what guys do I want exactly? Big hunky pilots who think they are God’s gift to women? I’m fine, thank you.” You get back to cleaning the bar.
“You think I’m hunky.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean, what’s wrong with me anyway? Most girls would kill for this.”
You couldn’t help but grin. It really did irk him that you weren’t falling for his act.
“Sorry babe, but you’re not my type.”
“Then tell me, who is?”
You scan the bar. You looked over at the pilots clustered around the pool table.
“Oh my god, it’s not Rooster is it?”
“As much as I would love to say that, him and my sister have history.” You clap your hands over your mouth. “Wait, I’m not supposed to say that.” You turn to him. “How good are you at keeping secrets?” He seems to mull it over.
“Hangman, I’m being serious.”
He rolls his eyes before miming zipping his lips shut. “I am a gentleman of my word. I promise I won’t, even if it will kill me. Besides, I don’t even know who your sister is.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Do you honestly think I just sleep with every single woman I lay my eyes on?”
“Yes. Especially if they are more beautiful, successful, glamorous versions of me.”
“I doubt that.” You tilt your head at him. He looks curiously soft, until he realises your look, and he looks away, taking a sip of his beer. “But let me know when she’s in town.” You whip him with the dish cloth you’re holding.
“Gross, Jake.” Jake’s eyebrow perked up. You used his real name. He wanted to celebrate but his curiosity got the better of him.
“So who is your type then?”
You looked back at the table.
All the pilots were ridiculously good looking, it was like a casting director had chosen every single one of them to make you nervous. But as you swept through, you could see one particular pilot looking at his phone smiling.
“Bob.”
“Bob? Are you kidding?”
“No? He’s tall, handsome, smart and a real gentleman.” You lean forward. “And he fucks.”
“Ew, what, gross. Where are you even getting that from?”
“Women’s intuition.” You tap your nose. Jake looks at you disbelievingly. “Also he has a hickey right at the bottom of his neck, just poking out of his collar, and what looks like” You take another look over. “Bruises and nail marks on his arms.”
“How the hell can you see that from over there?”
“I’ve got good observation skills.”
“Does that come in handy with your thesis?”
“Sometimes.”
Jake leans forward.
“So if you’ve come to this conclusion, why don’t you ask him out then?” Jake huffs.
“He is also definitely seeing someone Jake, don’t be stupid.”
“Okay, now you are having me on.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe someone like Bob could have a girlfriend? Do you think because someone wears glasses and likes books they are doomed to be unfuckable losers? That they should be grateful for any single morsel of attention they receive because who knows what will turn up?”
“That’s not what I meant Ladybug-”
You point at him.
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“Look, I’m -”
“Hey Hangman!” Javy waves a cue, “you promised us a game remember?”
Jake turns back to you, but you are gone, serving someone else at the bar.
***
Jake walks back to the pool table, where Bob is still looking at his phone smiling.
“Who are you messaging?”
Bob’s head snaps up, and he puts his phone behind his back.
“Er-what, no, I mean no one. Just looking at a - a - a- meme, that’s all.”
“Goddammit.” He turns back to you at the bar where you are talking to another customer.
“Jake-”
“Look Bob, remember we share any good memes on the chat. That’s what good squad members do.” He sees Bob’s shoulders visibly relax. At this point Nat sidles up to him.
“Hey, I realised where her name sounds familiar.”
“Oh really?”
“Her dad is Admiral Y/N.” Jake’s eyebrows raised so far they almost flew off his forehead.
“That guy? The one who -”
“Yeah. That one.”
Your dad was famous throughout the entirety of Top Gun for being perhaps the biggest hard ass there was. He was known to give recruits 200 pushups for just looking at him wrong. He even scared Jake’s dad. Jake couldn’t imagine what he would do if anyone dared to touch his daughter. But something still didn’t make sense. Usually he could tell Navy brats a mile off but Jake knew this was different. You hadn’t even given the slightest hint who you were. This game had just gotten a little more dangerous, and a lot more interesting.
part three
----
@burningwitchprincess
@cornishkat
#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#top gun hangman#top gun fanfiction#bob fucks#bob floyd#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman fic
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frostbite — pt. 14
pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader
content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn
cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.
notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long
anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL
also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️
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“agh— be more gentle!”
“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”
“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”
it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.
from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.
“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”
childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.
“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”
“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”
he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.
his war medals.
he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.
the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.
and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.
it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.
it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.
you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—
“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”
you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.
“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.
beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.
“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.
“i like them.”
it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.
you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.
childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…
to your lips.
“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.
it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.
you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.
and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—
knock knock knock knock!
you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.
outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.
“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.
you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.
“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.
both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.
“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”
…what.
“what?”
coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.
the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”
yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.
frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.
“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“
the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”
a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.
“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.
your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.
—
who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.
it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.
your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.
you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—
the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.
“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.
“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”
you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.
“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.
you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.
a chill runs down your spine.
“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”
the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.
and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.
dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.
“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.
the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.
the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.
“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”
a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.
what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?
“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.
“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”
“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.
“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”
…
how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?
“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”
“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.
“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”
you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.
“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“
“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”
huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.
“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”
“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.
“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”
neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.
“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.
childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”
it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.
you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.
“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.
“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”
“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.
the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.
but speaking of innocent…
“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”
you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.
“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“
the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.
“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.
“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.
“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”
you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.
“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”
“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.
he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”
“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”
the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.
“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”
taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana
#genshin impact fic#childe genshin x reader#childe imagines#childe x reader#childe x y/n#childe x you#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#childe fic#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia x you#childe tartaglia ajax#tartagalia genshin impact#tartaglia x reader
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Against all odds (part 7)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6
This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3
**
Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…
Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.
With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.
In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.
June 15th, 1989
Dear friend,
I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)
But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.
Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.
I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?
Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate.
I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.
I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?
I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P
Stay safe,
Your friend Hob
Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.
He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.
Part 8
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AoT as songs during a breakup and why [Pt. 1 Men Edition]
[Contains: Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Levi]
Warnings: insecurity, implied cheating, drug use, pining, toxicity, crying
Author’s Note: WHEW 😅 Ik it’s been a minute, I’m feeling better now despite the small bursts of fatigue here and there. Back to writing 🫶
…
Eren- [Black Cats- ZillaKami]
After you two break up, Eren goes through three phases. Anger at you, anger at himself, and finally just trying to forget and pretend nothing ever happened. He’s the type of guy that smokes until he’s numb, and forces himself to ignore the heartbreak. If he broke up with you, he’ll probably be back in your DMs in a week. But if you hurt him, he’ll expect you to come back and apologize. The man is too prideful to beg.
Armin- [If Only- Fink]
Sweet Armin 🥹 baby boy, he blames himself. Even if the breakup was your fault, he’s thinking of all the ways he could’ve been better for you. He’ll run through every possible reason you felt like he wasn’t enough for you, any sign he missed that he wasn’t trying hard enough. He won’t get over you, even as the time passes, there will always be room in his heart that he’ll keep unoccupied in case you ever decide to come back for him. This boy will love you forever, even if it hurts.
Jean- [It’s Called: Free Fall- Rainbow Kitten Surprise]
Jean is a very emotional guy…in private. He won’t outwardly show how it affects him, he’ll go out with friends and make an appearance at parties like it’s no big deal. For the first while he’s able to fool himself too. It’s one night when he gets home after a trip to the lake with his friends and starts thinking about how quiet his evenings are without you, he breaks. He feels a bit hopeless, and frustrated that he can’t just turn it off. He doesn’t want to feel it, because he’s scared it will consume him. He’s scared that other people will recognize his vulnerability.
Connie- [Who Needs Love- Trippie Redd]
My man is a LIAR. Connie hates you. He’s talking shit, he’s saying you were toxic and he’s glad you’re gone. He doesn’t need you and he could have anyone he wants, so why be sad? Until he runs into you at a party and you drunkenly admit that you still love him. Suddenly the world is colorful again, and loving really is worth the pain.
Reiner- [Creep- Radiohead]
Even if Reiner isn’t a loser, in his own mind he is. He went into your relationship believing you deserved so much better than him, he never understood how you managed to look at him and see anything worth loving. Everything he ever did was to ensure your happiness, so if leaving him is what will make that happen, he’ll let you go. He’ll watch you post on your instagram story when you go on dates, he’ll see your happy lil smile and he’ll smile to himself, ignoring the tear that escapes his eyes and moistens his pillow. He tells himself that he’s just proud of you, and glad you’re doing well.
Bert- [Break- Alex G]
Bert is a loser, and he believes he’s a loser. It’s endearing, because he doesn’t understand how he managed to pull you in the first place. He would walk to the ends of the earth and back barefoot to make you happy, his love knows no bounds. He’s a certified simp and he doesn’t mind being called one, because he doesn’t see any reason not to be proud that others are acknowledging how diligently he loves you, how devoted he is to your happiness. When things end, he feels cheated and drained. Like it was all for nothing. The type of guy who will say he’ll never love again, and even if it’s not true, it will definitely be a long time before he does.
Levi- [Killer- Phoebe Bridgers]
Levi has some pretty significant abandonment issues. He’s another one that would do anything to see you smile, he believes that the more he does for you, the more worthy of love he is. He doesn’t see himself as lovable unless he can be of service. Even if he doesn’t show it, Levi can be pretty insecure. He knows he isn’t the most approachable, he can be blunt and brash, and he doesn’t always know how to be gentle. But your love makes him feel like he’s good. He’s not ready to give that up, and he’s thinking of all the ways he can show you he wants to make it work. He can’t accept that it’s over, and one way or another he’ll have you back in his arms.
#help i feel like this is garbage#i wrote it in like 20 minutes#attack on titan#aot#aot x reader#aot smut#aot headcanons#aot x y/n#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#armin arlet x reader#eren jeager x reader#connie springer x reader#jean kirsten x reader#reiner braun x reader#bertholdt hoover x reader
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Sea of Cortéz | Price x Daughter! Reader | Ch.1
Pairing: Price + Daughter! Reader, Reader x OC, TF-141 x Platonic! Reader
Warnings: 🔪- death, bodies
Edited: No
A/N: I had this idea pop up while watching NCIS!!! So there might be some references or even a little crossover if I make more parts…Should I make more parts?? If so I have notes on what should happen next.
Masterlist
Ch. 1 [Here] | Ch. 2
Character banner ©️ Me
1.
Gaz huffed as he grappled over a rocky outcrop. He was glad he remembered to put on his gloves for this mission. He had previously forgotten to pack his gloves for other missions and ended up with scuffs and scratches. A hand appeared in his line of sight. He reached up to grab hold of his Captain’s open hand. The older man grunted as he helped pull the younger man over. The rest of the Task Force had just made it up as well.
They were on a reconnaissance mission to find different routes to an AQ compound. They also had to make note of their patrols, numbers, and any movement to and from. The known compound was hidden in a steep valley within a mountain range in the United Republic of Adal. If Gaz recalled correctly, Al Mazrah was just over 50 kilometers away from their current location.
The Captain was making conversation about his grown daughter that Gaz had learned about at the beginning of the Task Force. The team was in the Captain’s office when Johnny was the first to notice a framed photo of a rather pretty lady, thinking it was his girlfriend or something. A scowling Price said that she was his daughter and that she looked more like her mother than him. That he had her at a very young age and her mother was never in the picture almost immediately after her birth. Now his Captain was trying to set him up with her. His face burned at the thought of dating his Captain’s own blood. He was feeling kinda proud that he would be considered worthy enough for Price’s daughter. Johnny was snickering at him with a grin so wide Gaz wanted to smack it right off his face. He scowled at the Scot.
Ghost was on point with Soap just behind him. He and the Captain were in the back watching their six. They had made it down the other side of the rocky hill they climbed up to and we’re now making their way through a dry creek bed. The bed was dry with cracks splitting the top layers of dirt. The dry flecks crunched under their boots.
Ghost rounded a bend and paused. “Fuckin’ hell. Hold.” He raised his clenched fist.
Captain Price moved closer to Ghost. “What is it?”
“A bloody massacre…” His words and the lilt in his voice made Gaz’s blood run cold.
~~~~~
There was carnage left behind from this most obvious ambush. The two vehicles were blasted to bits, likely from an IED or smaller explosives. The Marines here put up a good fight. Dozens of empty round casings littered the sandy ground. Although some died in the blast before they could make a defense.
Four bodies were laid about around the vehicles. Based on their position they were fighting on two sides. Soap and Ghost began checking the bodies for any inkling as to why these Marines were here. They never received intel about another team being out in this region of Adal.
Gaz and Price covered them, searching along the bluffs nearby and further upstream. He stood by Soap who’d crouched to grab something from the Marine’s pocket.
“Oh, fuck!” Soap exclaimed. Gaz looked at him confused. Johnny help up the… photo… of a person I’m rather revealing clothing. Or lack of clothing. Why did her face look so familiar?
Then it clicked! That was Price’s daughter. She was much older in her semi-nude photograph but it was the same girl from the photo on Price’s desk.
“I don’t think I’ll be getting that date with your daughter.” Gaz let out an awkward chuckle. He was definitely not going on a date when they went back.
Price was confused by his words. He walked closer to the pair. “What do you mean, Kyle?”
Soap makes sure her privacy was covered and shows it to Price. His frown was almost instant.
“Is that… that.. a um,” he swallowed hard and shook his head. “A nude photo of my baby girl?”
Ghost came closer. “Hmm… seems so…”
The Captain’s body was stiff and then he turned his head down to the man that was in possession of such a photo of his not so little girl. His brow in a heavy glare. “Who the bloody hell is this bloke to have a fuckin’ nude photo of my-!” He gave the Marine a rather disrespectful kick to his side.
“Woah! Captain!” In the heat of the moment, trying to pull Price back before he did anything else he would regret, Gaz almost missed the soft groan that came from the body.
“Oh meh god, he’s fuckin’ alive!” Johnny heard it too and yelled, falling to his knees to check the Marine’s pulse. “…It’s faint but there. He must of passed out from blood loss or pain.”
Gaz looked at his shocked yet still confused Captain. “We need to call for a medevac.”
“Soap and I will stay and complete the mission as fast as possible.” Ghost slapped his large gloved hand on Price’s shoulder. “We’ll wrap the rest up before the helo comes and when you get back, you can handle whatever the ’ell is goin’ on ’ere.”
Price shook off his hand but agreed with what Ghost said. He called over the radio and a helicopter was inbound in 30 minutes. Gaz and Soap did what they could to help the Marine out. Wrapping him in bandages where he was shot. A bullet hit him in the right shoulder and another two in the left leg. From what Gaz could discern, the two bullets just missed his bone but he wasn’t sure if any major arteries were nicked. He wasn’t certain but the convoy must have been ambushed within the last 24 to 48 hours since this guy was still alive. The rest of the Marines were placed in body bags that they all carried in their packs just in case a mission went south.
Just in time, the helicopter arrived just down stream from the ambush site. Sand blew around them in large puffs of clouds. All the bodies, dead and alive, were loaded up. The medics on board were immediately on the Marine still alive, treating his wounds and placing and IV drip before the doctors back on base could look him over and perform surgery.
Price yelled into the headset he wore the moment they got on the helo. “Who is this man?”
The medic pulled out a metal chain from the Marine’s shirt. His dog tag. “He appears to be a Gunnery Sergeant… Miguel Juan Cortéz. A-positive blood type-.“ Price waved him off.
~~~~~
When they arrived on base, the medics took the lead and had the Gunny offloaded and halfway to the med-tents before Gaz and Price could even stand up. They both made it to the tents when the Gunny was rushed into emergency surgery. They sat outside the operating room on the old wooden benches. They creaked when they sat down.
Several hours passed before they heard steps rushing towards them. They looked up to see Kate Laswell speedily making her way towards them. She stopped just a foot or so in front of them.
“I heard down the grapevine that you brought back Miguel Juan Cortéz?” She rushed taking in only a short breath.
“Yes, why?” The Captain was still upset but had time to cool off somewhat.
“Good! Good, actually that’s perfect!” Laswell sighed in relief. Their raised brows in confusion alerted her to their lack of info. “He’s important, well, very very important to the people on The Hill right now.”
“Politicians?” Gaz cringed. Laswell looked back and forth between them.
“Kyle, John… Gunnery Sergeant Cortéz is two Senatorial votes and a Presidential signature away from being a Medal of Honor recipient.” The intensity of Laswell’s eyes showed that she wasn’t messing around nor was it a lie. Both men straightened in their seats.
The Medal of Honor… an award so prestigious that it was rarely given to anyone. A soldier had to go above and beyond the call of duty at risk of their own life. An act of Valor.
Just who was this Gunny Cortéz?
🔖 Taglist:
#price x daughter reader#captain price x daughter reader#cod#cod mw2#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#codmw2#john price#x reader#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x platonic reader#reader x oc#captain price#simon ghost riley#simon riley#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#kate laswell#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#soap#ghost#price#price x reader#call of duty captain price#captain price x reader
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Could I make a request? It's my birthday tomorrow and I'd love to know how the boys (maybe both individually and poly) would treat their S/O on their birthday. Love your fics and HCs, so glad I found your blog!
Absolutely you can! And Happy Birthday! I hope you have a wonderful day!
I’m gonna do headcannons because I think they would work best for this request:)
Celebrating your Birthday with the Lost Boys
David:
•He’s grumpy, but he adores you
•He gives, ‘I hate everyone but you’ energy with his S/O
•He likes to seem indifferent a lot of the time, since he’s got this ‘super cool leader of a biker gang’ reputation he needs to protect
•But he cares for you very deeply
•He listens to everything you say. Everything.
•And he’s incredibly observant and always keeping a close eye on you
•So if there was something you told him you wanted but it was too expensive, or something you liked at a store but talked yourself out of buying
•He got it for you
•The craziest most extravagant things you might never have gotten for yourself
•A Cartier bracelet? It’s yours. A PS5? All wrapped up for you. A signed first edition of your favorite book? Yep. Don’t ask how he got it.
•Seriously. Don’t ask.
•He shows his love by spoiling you and he wants you to feel loved on your special day🥹
Dwayne:
•Dwayne is the romantic of the group
•He writes you the sweetest birthday card you’ve ever gotten
•It’s like a love letter to you and you can feel his adoration coming off the page
•You can see how he started out with normal sized letters, but he had so much to say that they get smaller and smaller towards the end
•He writes over and over again how much he loves you and cares for you
•He writes about how happy he is that you were born and how lucky he is to be with you
•He tells you how you’re incredibly smart, ridiculously attractive, and overwhelmingly kind
•He includes a little poem about you as well, taking the time to detail your features and compare you to an Angel or some other worldly creature
•He writes about how he genuinely can’t believe a treasure like you could love a “literal monster” like him, but he’ll spend the rest of his eternal life trying to return the love he thinks you’re worthy of
•He thinks the world of you and wants you to feel appreciated and loved, not just on your birthday, but everyday
•He signs it ‘xxxxxxx <- my kisses’
•Just to make sure you know
•He asks Laddie to sign the card too and Laddie writes about how special you are and how grateful he is for you too
Paul:
•Listen
•He is his gift to you
•He shows up to your nest with a bow on his chest and winks at you
•I said on anon to another TLB account once that I think Paul’s the type of guy to give you a cast of his dick as a present and I stand by it
•If you’re not into that though he totally respects it and he’ll get you something else
•He’ll give you tons of cuddles and hugs
•He just likes to hold you, and he knows you like to be held🥹
•He tapes a birthday hat he cut out of a magazine on to fishy’s bowl for you too
•He would also want to give you a kiss for every year you’ve been alive
•He’s like, “you want em all at once or throughout the day?”
•Every time he gives you a kiss he’ll tell you something he loves about you
•Man has no filter and is always ready to tell you all the reasons you’re special to him
•He also makes you a little coupon book with sweet little things like “good for one bear hug,” “redeem for one boardwalk adventure,” and “turn into Paul for one quiet night together at the beach.”
•There are also some..um….spicy coupons in there too (if you want them of course)
•He says those you can reuse;)
Marko:
•Marko bakes you a cake:)
•Now this can go one of two ways
•Marko makes Panettone and Pandoro for the boys around Christmastime
•When he lived in Italy, his mom taught him how to make it and he still uses her recipe
•If that’s what he does, it turns out really great and it’s super yummy!
•However, if Marko makes you ANY other cake…good luck
•Aside from beloved family recipes intertwined with childhood memories, Marko does not believe in recipes.
•He is an agent of chaos and his cooking skills reflect this for the most part.
•He also really doesn’t get baking soda/powder and how much you should add (but he’ll never admit that and look at a recipe, that’s for quitters)
•But whichever he does he makes it with love🥹
•He frosts it, writes a sweet happy birthday message in colored icing on it, puts candles on it and lights them for you
•Once you blow out the candles he’ll take a little bit of it and shove it in Paul’s face (like wedding style)
•He wouldn’t do it to you of course because it’s your birthday (but Paul is fair game😈)
•He watches you eat it with heart eyes because food is such a big part of the culture in Italy, and it means a lot to him when you eat what he makes and enjoy it
Poly:
•If you’re more extroverted and don’t mind attention, they throw you a party in the cave!
•They invite all your friends and family so you’re surrounded by all the people you love
•Marko buys all your favorite snacks and drinks
•David makes a playlist of all your favorite songs for dancing and vibing
•Dwayne and Paul are in charge of decorations
• “We need a theme”
• “Not all parties have themes Paul”
• “All the good parties do! Don’t you want the best for the love of our life???”
•They make it an 80s theme party
•And not like tacky 80s themed, actual, very authentic 80s themed party
•All the guest come in 80s themed outfits (they don’t need to change) and they put something aside for you to wear too when you arrive at the party
•They do the whole ‘make everyone hide until you come in and then jump out and yell surprise’ thing
•Then you dance the night away celebrating with your favorite people!
•But if you don’t like parties, and you prefer not to be the center of attention, they have a plan for that too!
•They steal get a projector and screen and they set it up in the center of the cave
•They pull the mattress from your nest out into the main area too and throw tons of blankets and pillows on it
•They make popcorn and grab tons of candy and soda
•When you get to the cave they surprise you with a movie night in!
•You spend the night cuddled up next to them watching your favorite movie
•If you fall asleep, they carry the mattress back to your nest (with you on it of course) and all fall asleep in your nest with you
•They love you so much and want you to have the best birthday ever:)
I hope you liked this:)
Taglist:
@ghoulgeousimmaculate @altierirose @solobagginses
#the lost boys#dwayne lost boys#paul lost boys#david lost boys#marko lost boys#tlb#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#lost boys headcanons#the lost boys x reader
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Hello Celta, it seems that it’s Game of Thrones central at Clarence House and BP these days. KCIII call for all ‘able-bodied” royals to attend the Commonwealth Day Service on March 11th with Camilla ‘leading’ seems very off to me. Is that a slight against Catherine? Against William? A call for the Harkles to come over? A call for Andrew to take centre stage again?
I’m very disappointed in Charles. His lack of leadership skills and his penchant for game playing trumps all decency and common sense, it’s laid bare for the world to see. William seemingly has very deliberately and smartly scheduled events for his Earthshot enterprise this Friday March 8th and next Monday March 11th.
It seems that William is trying very hard not to fall prey to his father’s shenanigans. The good thing is that he has the resources to do so.
I can only imagine the body blows going on behind the scenes at the palace. It’s reprehensible that Charles seems to think he can easily manipulate the Wales as he did Diana during the war of the wales. Thank goodness that because of the Harkles we can see through the PR bull caca, and see his attempts at manipulation. He tries to convince us he deeply cares about Catherine and then uses the term able bodied?? WTF? I see you Charles and so do the Wales. Carol must be furious.
I don’t know if it’s worthwhile throwing cards on this. It seems very obvious to me. I hope his reign will be short. That’s all I’ll say.
Hi AnonymousRetired,
Able bodied? Able bodied?! So disabled royals are not welcome? If you walk with a stick, like the Duke of Kent, forget your years of service, the King doesn't want you at Commonwealth Day as you are obviously not worthy to represent him.
Does he have any idea how ableist that is ???!!!
If Prince William had made a gaffe like this, the media would rip him to shreds, but because it is King Charles, no one is saying anything.
As a disabled person myself, I am very offended by that statement. I am sitting here fuming over the wording, with figurative smoke coming out of my ears.
How DARE the King say that only abled bodied people are fit to represent him!
Queen Camilla is leading again, I see. Part of me is glad because it gives Prince William a reason not to attend, and part of me is mad that the Commonwealth doesn't get a service led by a blood royal. A divorced married in is apparently good enough for us.
I am so mad that I could not pull cards on this, whether I wanted to or not. I will have to cool down before I do any reading.
Able-bodied!!!
Edit: The theme for the day is "One Resilient Common Future", but as per the King's statement, disabled people have no part in this.
I am so mad about this.
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ok so I’ve been posting a lot about s/jm a lot but shutup I have a lot of angry feelings rn bc she was such a big inspiration for me during the time i began writing the book im currently editing and i’m trying to purge myself of her shitty writing by reminding myself why i hate it so i don’t inadvertently adopt her techniques and characters
but Author Lady really went
“you know what a strong female character is? Someone who can use knives and fight and is Royalty and Special”
like a man writing female characters
im sorry it reeks of misogyny
this isn’t to say that I think female characters being made royal is bad! Hell no. But you need her to have a right to deserve the throne, just like a male character
A//elin has a birthright to the throne, but that’s all she has. She hasn’t been in Terr//asen in TEN YEARS. She’s sworn off killing people from her country during her time as an assassin, but other than that… Does she know her own people beyond her cousin, Elide, and the lords (ie Darrow and co)? No. Does she even know her people? No. So… tell me again. Why does the girl who showed up and suddenly decided she wanted to fight for her country deserve its throne? Once she is on that throne, does she have plans for taxes? For borders and the peasants who were stripped of EVERYTHING by Ad/arlan? She never once considers this. Her blood money will win her the war, but what of the aftermath? She is the queen of an impoverished country who has spent years in the lap of luxury, and she has no plan for her people beyond a self-glorified ideal of “freeing them”.
Now let’s examine Fey//re: she was an impoverished human girl who was made immortal and given magical powers. Why does having this power make her worthy of being a ruler? I’m sorry, but Tam//lin was right. He was wrong to cast her aside, fine, and wrong to lock her up, yes, but he was right: she is illiterate and knows nothing of governing. But it’s also Fey//re’s own fault. She asked him ONCE about being a high lady, and didn’t press him when he said there are none. She could have, but didn’t. She could’ve told him she wanted to be included in more meetings, could’ve pushed back. For all that she scorned Lucien for not helping her fight T//amlin’s restraints, she never really tried either. She has never been a ruler of anything, not even her own family. Why does she deserve a crown now? Because she can hunt and has lots of magic? Because Rh/ysand says so? Not. Good. Enough. She doesn’t care about the people. She doesn’t have any agency. She doesn’t have any ideas for improvement for the night court. She was better off in the spring court where she could have changed things like the Tithe, or even waited to see if that system worked and if it didn’t, PROPOSE A NEW ONE, don’t just try to undermine it.
I’m so glad I realized how shitty author lady’s books are before I completely molded my writing after hers
#anti acotar#anti acomaf#anti rhysand#anti feyre#anti feysand#anti aelin#anti rowaelin#anti rowan whitethorn#pro tamlin
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the unbearable lightness of being ✩ knj
✩ FIRST CHAPTER OF EVERYTHINGOES
which includes... fluff and slice of life content ⏤ 822 words.
━━━━━ NEXT !
in which... he feels the heavy weight of his routine and serendipity goes his way !
Spring was turning around the corner and somehow Namjoon’s life felt dull and bloomless still.
He had been strolling aimlessly all Saturday, thinking if he should take a break from his job starting Monday. Or maybe just run away from his manager for a while. Do something else with his life. Go to another country, and live a brand new adventure. That’s how he came to know the little vintage library tucked on the corner of a busy street—because of his equally busy brain and restless feet.
There was no one inside besides him, a kind-eyed grandpa behind the counter, a calico cat, and tons of dusty books—just how Namjoon liked them. And yet the books weren’t what he felt pulled toward to inspect.
On top of two piles that were flooding the floor, there was a ham radio. The aged equipment had a collection of space stickers adorning it which only contributed to filling Namjoon’s brain with nostalgia and fond memories. A long time ago, when he was still a kid, he got to know about the existence of such a radio. Later on, it resulted in tons of questions about its functioning, something that his Physics teacher was eager to provide the answers to.
He heard the old man clearing his throat snapping him off his down-to-memory-lane trance. “If you like it so much I’m more than happy to see it go.”
Namjoon had to double-check on the smiley grandpa behind the old wooden structure. It was a fact that he would be glad to display the device around his house next to the art he collected… It was inspiration after all. Something to connect him with his inner child, even if the equipment wouldn’t work anymore. But not a week ago his mom teased about his house looking like a science fair museum and he wouldn’t want to contribute to that statement. “How much for it?” he asks while pondering and the elder dismisses his offer, going around on the counter.
“Oh no. That one isn’t priced,” he said as he approached with some difficulty. “I would be glad to see it go to a new home after so many years!”
“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks and then looks at the device. “It’s a relic now, sure, and that’s why it should have its price…” he regarded, feeling bad to take the offer without paying something to the old man.
The grandpa let out a chuckle, eyeing him with fondness. “And that is precisely why I’m giving it to you.” he continued with a look that told Namjoon he had already lived plenty to know what he was talking about. “Everything goes, son. But it’s when you know the value of things that you are considered worthy enough to keep ‘em.” he gave Namjoon a gentle tap on his broad shoulders before turning around, “Take it. It was already yours, to begin with.”
Namjoon went home that Saturday with a ham radio underneath his arm and a little paper bag holding an old edition of The Unbearable Lightness Of Being by Milan Kundera. A book that he had already read many times before but upon the gentleness of that stranger, it seemed the right thing to do or the right price to repay.
✩ April 7, 2018
…
“Can someone hear me? Hello?”
…
“Ugh. I swear this will never work…”
...
“Um… Hello?”
...
“Oh, my God! Hi! Can you hear me? Is this real?”
...
...
“Uh… Yes? I can hear you”
...
“Thank heavens! It’s been a week already. I couldn’t pick up anyone’s frequency…”
...
“I’m Hyori by the way!”
...
...
...
“Hello?”
...
“Sorry! Uhm, yeah, nice to meet you! But uh… What do you mean by anyone’s frequency?”
...
“You do this regularly? Like a channel or something?”
…
“Oh gosh, no. *laughs* I’m currently developing something for the company I work with, that’s why the radio.”
…
“A friend of mine suggested it since I need the opinion of strangers… He said this is how he did a survey back in college, so I thought… Let’s risk it!”
...
“Wouldn’t it be easier doing it the obvious way? Don’t get me wrong! I like the effort *laughs*”
...
...
...
“I thought about the newspaper as well but I don’t know, the idea seemed gnarly…”
…
“What’s your name again?”
...
“*soundly laughter* you’re funny!”
…
“And I’m Namjoon.”
...
...
“Namjoon… I like it! Nice to meet you, now officially”
...
“Same!”
...
...
“Listen, I really gotta run but um… If it’s not asking much, would you please tune in at this frequency tomorrow? It would literally save my life!”
…
“It’s just some silly questions about routines really… Please?”
...
“I mean… Yeah, sure. I see you when I see you or…?”
...
“What? Nevermind- Are you sure? Can I count on you?”
...
“Yes, *chuckles* you can”
…
“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! This is stellar!”
…
“Are you ok with tomorrow by, umm, 4 o’clock?”
...
...
“I’ll be waiting.”
✩ ━━━━ everythingoes' masterlist here !
#namjoon x reader#namjoon x oc#bts x oc#kim namjoon imagine#kim namjoon#namjoon scenarios#namjoon fluff#bts scenarios#bts series#bts fic#namjoon smau#namjoon imagine#rm x reader#rm fanfic#bts au#rm x y/n#.everythingoes
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The Sandman and the Girl Without Dreams
Chapter 16: The Path Paved In Golden Flames
TW: gore, violence, knives, cuts, a tiny bit of angst (this is the end of the angst train I promise), bickering, slight reliving of some memories, smut (oral both receiving, penetration), fluff, apologies, gifts, Dream finally has his head out of his ass
This chapter is mostly unedited so if there are mistakes please just ignore them 😅 My app won't let me edit long posts so 🤷♀️ Enjoy!
Reposting AGAIN BECAUSE THIS APP HATES ME! xD
Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”
“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.
The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”
“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”
The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”
The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”
“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”
Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”
***
The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"
"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."
He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."
"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.
Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"
"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."
I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"
Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."
He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."
Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"
"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”
“Let’s get on with it then.”
“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”
I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”
Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”
He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”
"Far from it doll," he said with a laugh as he advanced forward once more.
The kick to my sternum was unexpected and sent me flying off the stage and onto the ground. I had no time to catch my breath before The Bull leapt down, knife poised and ready to end this. I rolled to the side, gasping and sore, just missing the stab of his blade. He twisted the blade in his fingers and moved to stab me again, but I stabbed into his wrist, holding his arm away from me as he pushed harder with a desperate thirst for blood.
When my strength didn’t falter his fist came swiftly from the side and punched up into my ribs, the hit not only broke a few, but sent me falling further into the aisle. I hurried back onto my feet and moved backwards, dodging each movement of his fists and blade, waiting for an opportunity of my own to strike. The wound on his shoulder provided such, it was a small delay but it would have to do. He moved again and then I struck, lunging forward, leaping onto him and digging both my blades into his back and pulling up.
The Bull grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doors to the room, not giving me any time to move or think before kicking me all the way out into the lobby. My head cracked against the ground as he advanced, stepping on my knee until the bone strained and cracked beneath him. With a pained cry I stabbed his thigh and rolled when he lifted the pressure off me, kicking the shin of his leg as I went. I was off balance now, my knee burned as I shuffled backward and watched The Bulls movements. He smiled, but this one was no longer the wide smug grin, it was tense and forced. He was getting annoyed with me.
He started advancing more sloppily now, the pain I’d inflicted on him mingling with that bubbling frustration. It was risky, relying on his fractured emotional state, but I intended to use every possible advantage I could. We moved around the people, who appeared to be sleeping or frozen, dishing out hit after hit until my back slammed into the cool metal of the elevator doors just as they began to open. The Bull shoved me inside, winding his fist back. I ducked and used the opportunity to lay into him.
My blades sliced the back of his knees, stabbed into his side and stomach, just as I brought my hand down to bury the blade into his chest, his hand caught my arm and threw me onto the bloody floor of the elevator as it began moving up. His knife dug into the side of my stomach and my sharp cry filled the space. The Bull settled on top of me, smug and over confident as he abandoned his own blade and forcefully pulled one of mine from my hand. “I’m gonna make this nice and slow.”
The metal of my blade caught the light, fire raging inside it as he brought it down to my face. I caught it in my hand, wincing as the metal sliced through my palm. My blood didn’t drip down onto me though, it ran backwards up the blade and spread out over his hand. I could smell the flesh burning as The Bull let go of the hilt with a startled noise as my blood burned him. I wasted no time throwing all my body weight into him, pulling him to the ground. The dagger flipped in the air, I caught it and quickly buried both of my blades deep into his eye sockets. His body moved, twitching and flailing for a moment before it stopped entirely.
Breathing heavily I forced myself to my feet, wiping the blood off my blades with my already ruined pants. I hit the lobby button and stared down at the lifeless body of The Bull. The ride down was silent, still, as my body reeled in pain. “Have fun in Hell you fucking bastard.”
The doors opened and I slowly made my way back to the convention room, just in time to catch the demon standing between The Corinthian and Dream, holding him still with Lyrias twisted dark threads. “Now you die, Dream Lord. You then Destiny.”
I threw one of my blades, aiming to slice through the threads. “You and I have business, demon!”
Its head turned to me with a dark sneer. “You. Why won’t you just die?!”
With a painful shrug I moved closer to the stage. “Maybe it’s just not in my nature.”
It turned away from Dream, jumping down off the stage and standing between me and them. “You cannot stop me, Weaver. Not without killing Destiny’s precious Lyria.”
“I’ll find a way.”
A dark smile, oozing with black spread on her face. “No, you will die.”
It lunged forward, slashing with dark claws and cutting my leg and hitting the daggers from my hands as I dove behind it. The Corinthian had turned to Dream, dagger raised and ready to strike his creator. I grabbed his threads and pulled him to his knees. Dream watched, still unable to move his feet from the threads I hadn’t cut around his legs. “Penelope!”
Claws dug into my shoulder, reopening the once sealed wound there as the demon cut deep and then threw me to the ground. It smiled widely, twisting its hands, a noose tightening around my neck and pulling me back into the stage, choking me. Voices filled my ears, The Stewards, Olethros, Isabel, Pierre, Johanna. Voices of all the people I’d lost, or could lose. The demon laughed. “Such a convenient thing for you to keep tied to you. A noose, made of your own failures, perfectly sized to hang you with. Pathetic. Soul bound. Fate Weaver. Your titles matter not, for you are weak. It was foolish of you to think you could ever beat me.”
Soul bound. The voices grew louder in my ears as my lungs began to burn. Fate Weaver. I closed my eyes, my hand scratching the ground, fingers running through coarse sand. Sand. The hilt of my dagger brushed against the tips of my fingers, buried deep in the black sand that now coated the floor between me and the demon. I wasn’t just those things. Thunder rumbled in the room, echoing loud and fiercely as the dark clouds of The Gathering Storm covered the ceiling. I wrapped my hand around it and cut the threads around my neck, ignoring the way the blade sliced through my skin as well. Lightning struck the claws of the demon, bringing it to its knees with a startled cry as I stood, the sand swirling around me. “I’m not just a soul bound or a Fate Weaver. I’m the fucking Lady of the Dreaming and so long as I live you won’t lay a finger on my King.”
Storm swirled around Lyria’s hunched over body, twisting around her limbs and shocking the demon as it writhed and fought against it. I moved fast, grabbing hold of her shoulder and looking back at Dream, our eyes locking for the first time in days. “Finish it, Dream.” I looked at The Gathering Storm and bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”
Then Lyria and I were gone, landing in Destiny’s garden as he stood, waiting for us. The demon was weakened by the lightning and I had hoped that Lyria would be strong enough to fight it. If Destiny could get through to her, maybe the book could provide some information. Black blood spilled from her mouth as the gold of her eyes flared against the darkness. “Kill me.”
“No.” I said, grabbing the book from Destiny’s table and flipping through the pages. “We’re going to save you.”
“There isn’t time!” She cried out. “Kill me. Do it before I hurt him again.”
Destiny knelt down in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. “I will not lose you again.”
Her head slammed into his face, the blow from the demon strong enough to send him to the ground as it climbed on top of him, raising its claws with a shriek. Its hand froze in the air, trembling as the gold in her eyes raged. She was fighting, as hard as she could, I needed to be fast. The pages provided little information, but a dispelling spell finally met my eyes and I wasted no time in reading it. The demon's dark shadowed body pulled away from Lyrias, both of them screaming as I completed the spell and the demon was pulled back to its own shadow realm.
Lyria slumped forward into Destiny's chest as he sat up and quickly checked her for a pulse. “Des, is she okay?”
He pressed his head into her hair and breathed in deeply, quiet for a long moment. “She’s alive.”
I released a relieved breath, my shoulder stinging as I neared the two. Her eyes fluttered open, the black finally gone from them as she looked around us. “Is it truly over?”
“Yes, Lyria,” Destiny said softly. “You are home.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned weakly to him. “Destiny… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He stroked her cheeks. “No, this was my doing. I should have told you of Penelope… should have told you what I intended.”
The sting in my shoulder intensified until I found myself gasping for air. Looking over my shoulder at the shadows as they began to seep from my wound. Destiny looked at me, Lyria’s eyes followed. “He’s left his mark on you. He will use it to pull you to him.”
“You can still trap him.” Lyria mumbled weakly as Destiny held her close. Her golden eyes met mine. “His soul, whatever is left of it, is bound to the book. Find the page with my handprint and you’ll find the spell to rebind his physical form to the book as well.”
“Penelope-”
“Don’t worry Des, I’ll finish it. Just… Tell him I’m sorry,” I whispered, gripping the book tight in my blackening hands as my shoulder seethed in shadows. “And that I loved him more than anything.”
“Weaver!” Destiny yelled as I let myself be pulled into the darkness.
***
Dream rose to his feet, his eyes turning away from where his lady had vanished from to The Corinthian as he clapped slowly. “Quite the woman isn’t she? I’m starting to think I put my money on the wrong Weaver. So, back to square one it seems.” He pulled a knife from his jacket and shook his head. “But I won’t go willingly.”
“A knife against a dream?” he asked, stepping towards his creation slowly.
“You don’t think dreams can die?” The nightmare egged on. “Let’s find out.”
Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand has only just begun to swirl around The Corinthian as he stabbed his knife into Dream’s hand. It was surprising to him when it actually hurt, so much so he dropped to his knee and examined the cut with tentative hands. “How?”
“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide, smug grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”
“No.”
“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”
“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”
The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”
Dream ignored the nightmares words and pushed himself into the dream just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”
“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”
He moved through the plastic lining the door with a sigh at the sight of so much death and violence before him. “It’s his dream, for your world.”
The Corinthian sneered at him for a split second before smiling at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”
The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”
“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”
“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly as he watched his nightmare struggle to keep his composure.
Rose looked up at him, sorrow and confusion shining in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”
Dream nodded a little. “Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”
The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”
“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”
Steel singing in the air echoed around them as The Corinthian pointed a knife at him. “He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”
“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”
“I’m tryin to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.
“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.”
“Enough!” Her voice echoed in the vast space as Dreams' eyes looked up, there in the distant darkness he could see Penelope… A dream of her? No. A vision.
She’d been thrown to the ground, her surroundings unknown to him as a clawed hand of darkness grabbed her head and held her down, squeezing enough to puncture her cheek. Dream took a half step forward when her eyes met his, wild and desperate… afraid. Penelope! Her eyes filled with tears, the fire in them raging as her hand found a dagger. She shoved up, stabbing deep into the arm of whatever creature lurked.
Rose’s power radiated through the room, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of his lady as she was dragged back into the shadows and out of his sight. A scream and a wild shriek filling the air. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime the walls go back up. Because I am not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two I’m wide awake.”
His heart thundered in his chest as he watched the walls further separate him from going to Penelope. And just like that the dream faded, The Corinthian filling his view as he lifted his hand and examined the healing wound. His nightmare took off the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. “If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”
“You’re not going back.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse with the emotion that raged in him. Penelope was somewhere fighting for her life and he could not save her and The Corinthian… his masterpiece needed to be unmade and he needed to be the one to do it. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”
“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian scoffed at him. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them, not even her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”
“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”
“Or you might actually feel something.” His nightmare smiled, sad and angry. “I am not the problem Dream.”
There it was. The answer to the question he’d been asking for so long. Why did his dreams and nightmares feel so distant from him? Why did they prefer Penelope, someone they’d only just barely been introduced to when he had been beside them for eons? It was far more simple than he’d thought possible. He pushed them away, shoved them into strict rules that shackled their growth and thus their ability to view him in any light other than a captor. “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”
The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. “I am only sorry I won’t be here to watch you lose everything… to see Rose Walker do the same to you.”
Dream knelt before the pile of sand and plucked the small skull up and a sad smile. “Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little dream.”
He turned to the crowd of his creations flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”
They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed out of the room. Dreams eyes settled onto the spot Penelope had once stood, his heart sinking lower and lower every second she did not reappear before him. My love… Where are you? Please… Tears filled his eyes as the minutes passed with no sign of her. Penelope.
***
Darkness surrounded me, the wound on my shoulder burning now in the rancid air as I stumbled into the altar and shakily set the book in place. I flipped through the pages, eyes scanning and desperate to find Lyria’s handprint. Come on. Come on!
A dark chuckle echoed around me, pain ripping through my shoulder and tearing a scream from my throat. “Why do you still fight against the dark, little Weaver?”
Before I could even move out of the way the demon had grabbed me and thrown me to the ground. My head cracked against the stone as I pushed myself back, hands fumbling in the dark for my lost daggers. The glowing red of the demon's eyes was all I could see in the darkness in front of me as it shifted and moved without a sound. Its long talons flashed for a second before its whole hand curled around my head and squeezed the sharp points into my skin. I groaned, still trying to move as my eyes lifted and a hazy vision of Dream and Rose and The Corinthian flashed in the distance. Dream... I thought softly, my hand shifting toward him and bumping into the sharp sting of Destruction sheathed in steel.
I wrapped my hand around it, taking one last look at Dream's eyes before forcing my body up and stabbing the blade deep into the demon's arm. It shrieked loudly, its hand tightening around my head as it flung me through the air and sent me crashing into the altar. This time my whole body burned with pain, every wound I sustained in my fight with The Bull and with the demon before, as the adrenaline began to fade and everything else started to settle in. I coughed up blood as I turned and reached for the book, weakly flipping the pages until my heart sank at the sight of a torn page. “No.”
“Did you really think I’d leave the one page that could rebind me?” Mephistopheles asked with a loud, smug laugh. “Don’t you see now? You cannot trap me.”
“If I can’t trap you then I’ll just have to kill you.” I wheezed as I took my blade in hand and stabbed the book as hard as I could, the steel piercing the thick leather. A soft, dark light began to seep out from the book. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
Mephistopheles growled in the darkness. “Your little blade isn’t strong enough to kill me. NOTHING IS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL ME!” Claws sliced clean through my side, pulling me and the book back to the ground as the red eyes loomed over me and a twisted grin of darkness and thorns smiled down at me. “I’ll give the Endless your regards, Penelope.”
No. The world of threads offered little help, as all the threads save the gold were covered in darkness. My eyes fixed on the molten gold as it swirled brighter than ever, gold drops pulling towards me like fireflies in the dark. Forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom. The Fates voices echoed in my ears as Mephistopheles’ claws tore through my stomach. FUCK! My hand shot out and wrapped around the golden thread. Fire, bright golden swirls of fire wound around my arm and sunk into my skin, burning hotter than anything I’d ever felt. A scream tore through my throat as the gold curled up my shoulder as I lifted the dagger again and stabbed the blade the rest of the way into the book. Golden light illuminated Mephistopheles’ face and he tore away from me, attempting to shield himself from the light.
“NO! NO!” He roared as the light burnt away at the shadowed body. It lunged for me one last time, a mad move made by a dying demon. I ripped the dagger from the book just in time to lift it in front of me and watch it slice clean through its neck. The head of the demon fell to the stone and the book blazed in a puff of golden fire, blackening until the soul within it was consumed. The dagger clattered to the ground as I turned to look at the golden thread, unable to pull my hand from it. Power burning and bright and nothing like any power I’d felt before surged through me. I pulled against it harder, tears streaming down my cheeks as the power grew too great, too painful for me to stand any longer. The gold filled my vision as my body weakened to the point where I couldn’t move anymore. Blood oozed from my wounds, pooling beneath my back as a vision played in the glowing thread.
A tall figure clothed in black and stardust moved across a stone bridge. Dream. He walked through the town with his head held high as everyone he passed smiled and bid him a fond good afternoon. He looked happy. Dream followed the familiar path to Cain and Abel’s houses and shook his head with a chuckle as he crossed the bridge. “I thought I told you not to stray far, yet here you are wreaking havoc on Cain and Abel’s garden.”
A little girl was perched upside down half hanging from Pierre’s statue, her long raven hair blowing in the breeze as she flipped around and leapt into Dreams' waiting arms. Cain bowed his head to Morpheus. “It’s no trouble, my lord. She can be quite helpful when she wants to be.”
“Yes, when she’s not too occupied with vanishing!” He shook his head as the girl pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “You’re just like your mother.”
“Mommy’s good at disappearing!” The child sang. “She can do it SO FAST!”
Dream laughed, a laugh so full of joy I’d never heard it before. “Yes, she is. Speaking of her, we should get back to the palace. She’s going to be back today.”
The girl looked up into his eyes, stars shining in hers. “Do you think Uncle Destiny and Aunt Lyria will give her a gift to bring me?!”
“Don’t they always?” He asked as she jumped from his arms and hugged Cain, then Abel and then the much larger Goldie.
She grabbed Dream's hand and tugged him along across the bridge. “Come on then Daddy!”
They moved back through the village, the sight of the mighty Dream Lord being dragged through the town by the smaller girl didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Just as they reached the bridge a woman stood on the opposite end, looking out at the setting sun. The little girl let go of Dreams hand and booked it toward her, only giving her enough time to turn before nearly tackling her to the ground. “Mommy!”
Laughter echoed as Dream moved closer, revealing my face buried in the girl's hair. “Ophelia!”
“Did you bring me a gift?” the little girl demanded, squeezing my cheeks.
“Of course,” I replied, laughing. “It’s in the library with Lucienne and Matthew.”
The child, Ophelia, leapt to the ground and ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her. Dream pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “How is my brother and his wife?”
I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”
“Did he answer your question?”
“He did.”
Dream looked down at me, an expression of anticipation and hopefulness filling his usually stoic face. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense my lady?”
My smile grew wider as I nodded. “He confirmed our suspicions.”
Now, Dream was beaming, bright as a star as he enveloped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a bit. “This is wonderful news! Did he tell you which it would be?”
Once he set me back down I cupped his face with a wide smile. “A boy.”
“A boy,” he breathed, hands resting on my stomach. “I assume you already have a name in mind?”
I smiled, the eyes of my future self looking over his shoulder and into my own. “Omiros.”
“Omiros.” I could hear the smile in his voice as more tears streamed down my cheeks. “A strong name. Though I have to wonder where you, my love, came up with such a name.”
My eyes turned away from me and looked up at him with happy tears. “I heard it a long time ago.”
His head tilted to the side as he stroked my cheek. “From where?”
“A dream,” I answered.
“You said that last time,” he noted, suspicious.“Well maybe you should believe me then.”
“My son. Omiros,” Dream said again, softer, almost like a prayer as his thumb rubbed against my stomach.
The gold thread faded before my eyes, taking the vision with it, and my hand fell limp onto the stone floor. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me. The darkness and decay of the realm remained as the creatures gathered around me, drawn to the starlight that had been glowing from my head. A green butterfly flew past my eyes and settled on the bloody skin above my heart. The light moved, flickering out for a moment before glowing even brighter beneath the butterfly. The creatures made a noise, soft and desperate. "You would be stripped of your light and left to darkness should you try."
The light, the blessing, would set these people free. I didn’t know how I knew, but something inside me just did… It was the only way to set all this right. I lifted my hand, despite the pain the movement sent through me, and touched my heart. The butterfly settled over my palm as I pulled the light from my chest, holding its steady warm glow tightly. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me.
"Goodbye, Morpheus," I whispered, letting the light slip from my fingers and up toward the sky. Silver spirits of the creatures trapped in the darkness followed the light up into the sky, tearing through the darkness and leaving me one last fading view of the night sky before darkness overtook me.
***
Destiny stared out into the night sky as he held Lyrias hand in his, absentmindedly stroking his thumb along her skin. He could feel her heart beating again, after all these long years, she was home. All of it was thanks to Penelope. She’d offered him help, even knowing that the likelihood of her demise was great. He looked down at the shimmering gold of Lyrias cheeks and smiled, pressing a kiss to them as he stood.
“Father,” he said out into the sky. “I have never asked for anything… You know I would never ask unless it was of great importance. Just this once, I ask for your favor.”
Beside him Time stood, hands clasped in front of him. “I cannot guarantee she will live. First she must pass her final test, and then her fate will be decided.”
Destiny nodded. “It is a chance, one I can only hope she will be strong enough to make good use of.”
“We shall soon see.”
***
The darkness that cocooned me was neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. I felt weightless as voices swirled around me, one soft but cold. A hand shook my shoulder, soft and warm and familiar. “Penelope, it’s time to wake up darling.”
“Mother?” I whispered as my eyes opened to her kindly face looking down at me with a soft smile. She pushed my hair out of my face. “Am I dead?”
Her face twisted as she gasped at the question. “Heavens no! Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because this…” I stopped myself, eyes roaming over the modest bedroom that had so very long ago been my own. “This isn’t real.”
Mother laughed softly. “You and that imagination of yours. Now, get up. We have a long day of lessons ahead of us.”
I sat on my bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room and my breaths heavy and sharp. What the fuck is going on? I thought as I pulled the covers off me and practically ran to the mirror. I looked like I had then, youthful. The wounds I’d gained while fighting The Bull and Lyria and the demon were gone. I turned my wrist over, running my fingers along the smooth unscarred skin. It was all gone… No, it just hadn’t happened yet. I sank to the floor, tucking my knees to my chest and letting out quiet, scared sobs. Was this real? And if it was… what was I meant to do?
A voice, warm and loud, echoed through the room. “You must choose what was or what could have been, Fate Weaver.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, but the voice didn’t come again. Okay, I told myself, wiping the tears from my eyes. This is just another test. I just needed to figure out where I was and what this choice was. After I got dressed for the weird day that was no doubt ahead of me I looked around my room, if there was anything here to tell me what was going on it would certainly make this easier. I pulled a box out from under my bed and opened it up to reveal a simple fine dress, one I recognized almost immediately.
This was the day I snuck out and attended the party at the Burgess house for Alex. The day I met Morpheus. The day that changed everything. Choose what was or what could have been? Whoever it was that set up this weird trip to the past wanted me to either make the same choices I had, the ones that led me to where I ended up or to choose differently? I practically scoffed. Why would I change what happened? I had already lived through it. Unless… whatever being was doing this expected me to live through it all over again.
The pained memories of the asylum filled my mind as I set my head in my hands. What would change if I tried to do things differently? Morpheus. I looked down at my arm where the mark had been and sadly ran a thumb over the smooth skin. If I change things… It would change our relationship, change what we meant to each other… what we still mean to each other. I kept going over it in my mind as the day dragged on. My father, the man I’d killed with my bare teeth, sat across from me at the table as we ate. I’d forgotten how miserable I was. Forgotten how absolutely horrible life had been living in the Barlow house.
Sure, I was fed and had plenty of time to myself, but it was lonely. There was no Matthew to swoop down and chatter in my ear. No Lucienne to offer up a book recommendation or talk to me for hours about the knowledge she held. No Mervyn calling me kid and offering to show me how to do various jobs. There was no Cain and Abel and Goldie with their garden and their bickering. No town full of loving nightmares and dreams. There was no Dreaming, no home… No Morpheus.
For a while I wandered the Barlow estate grounds, deep in thought, but no matter how long I thought about it my answer stayed the same. I would follow the events of the day as they had happened, even if it meant I would have to live the years that followed in the same torment that I had before. I looked at myself in the mirror as night finally came and smoothed a hand over the dress that would soon be ruined, before climbing out the window and making my way toward the Burgess house and the crowd that gathered there.
I walked as if I was in a daze, moving through the crowd until Alex's young and familiar face smiled down at me. "Penelope! It's about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandoned me to be eaten by these people!"
“Alex…” I hadn’t seen him in eighty years. Even after all the pain he’d caused me, I couldn’t help but feel happy when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside. For a split second I’d forgotten that this wasn’t real, that this was all some kind of memory or, or, something.
I looked up at the house, residual fear and anxiety building in me as Alex led the way. Hand on my shoulder he looked over me with worried eyes. “Are you alright? You seem quiet.”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Well, relax, Pen. Tonight is supposed to be fun.” His family butler scolded him quietly and he nudged my shoulder. “Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility.”
I took one last look at his face, one last look at him while he was still my friend. “You are rather irresponsible.”
“Says you,” he retorted with a laugh and a nudge to my shoulder.
“Don’t be too long… responsible Alex, or I’ll be the one that becomes the meal.” Goodbye, my friend. I thought as I watched him walk out the door. Hopefully once I got to Dream this whole thing would end, but if not… Alex wouldn’t be like this again.
I instinctually moved toward the least crowded part of the room, my eyes drawing to the door with the guards standing in front of it. Now that I knew what secrets it held the curiosity was gone, replaced by a cool and pulsing rage. He was down there. Alone. Naked. Locked away in some goddamn fish bowl for what? Roderick Burgess’ pride? I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Dream was free. He was safe. Just like before I watched the people dance, drink and come close to overdosing on every drug imaginable at the time. All just one large facade. The rich man fell to the ground, convulsing just as he had before and I turned toward the basement door. Everything and everyone froze as the voice from this morning echoed around me again. “Choose.”
For a moment I looked around at the party, studying the faces of the upper class crowd. They were miserable, all of them, I had known it then and I knew it now. I turned back to the door and descended the dark stairs, into the basement that would soon fill with beatings and blood, but the second my eyes met his in his glass cage my heart soared. Whoever organized this, whatever they wanted of me, had wasted their time. There was no world where I wouldn’t choose him.
The basement was just as I remembered it, damp and dark, reeking and poorly lit. The glowing glass sphere hung in the center of the large space and my legs nearly buckled at the sight of it. Morpheus sat up, dark, star filled eyes watching me as I moved closer and closer to him. He watched me with a stoic expression, but his eyes betrayed what he felt, as they always did.
“Don’t worry. There's nothing they could do to make me choose differently.” I said as I stood face to face with him, tears running down my face as I pressed my hand to the glass without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you, Dream.”
He said nothing as he mirrored the gesture. Just like the first time pain exploded across my palm, but this time when the images and voices filled my head I knew them. The memories of Dream and I played in my head, every tiny gleam in his eyes, every stupid game I played with him, our goodbye and then our reunion, Matthew and Lucienne and Mervyn and Cain and Abel, home. They were here, all along from the beginning they were here. The glass shattered beneath our hands as Dream’s voice silenced all the others. “I thought you’d left.”
I smiled as the glass turned into sand. “I would never leave you, my Dream. You’re my home.”
The memory or illusion of Dream stepped out of the metal frame and stood in front of me, lifting his hand and blowing sand into my eyes. Everything faded away until I stood staring at an empty expanse of darkness. Two figures stood before me, neither looking my way but at each other.
"It has been a long time since we have shared a plane,” the soft, cold feminane voice said.
The other replied, rough but warm. "Yes. I have missed you."
The soft voice belonged to a woman, tall and thin, beautiful beyond belief. She wore a gown of glowing light and her long hair was black with stairs swirling inside it. Night. I told myself. This was Dream and the other Endless’ mother. “I am here now.”
The loud voice belonged to a man, old with vibrant red hair and a long beard filled with gray strands and features that reminded me of De and Olethros. He shook his head. “Only because you felt drawn here. You did not come for me.”
“No, but I am here nonetheless.” Her eyes, two glowing stars, turned to me. “Your light is gone, little star. It was a mistake of you to give it away for even I cannot return it to you.
The old man changed before my eyes, into a small boy. “To give away such a blessing is quite the feat alone, especially for a mortal born. But, more interesting, perhaps, is your choice.”
“I just did what I thought was right.” I answered him.
“Right?” he questioned, now older but not old. “Was it out of obligation or love I wonder? Mortals seem to be quite fickle in their feelings.”
This must be their father, I told myself. Dream had spoken little of his parents and from what I could gather from Desire there was a good reason for it. As I watched them coldly argue with one another over what my fate was to be all I could think of was how unhappy and bitter they both sounded. Night was cold and emotionless as she spoke. “Does it matter why she chose this path?”
The man turned to her, the young boy once again. “It does to me, as it should to you.”
“She may have foolishly given away my blessing, but the fact remains she passed your test, Time. Do you not wish for our son to be happy?"
“My blessing is a rare and powerful thing. I will not give it to someone unworthy of it.”
They fought again for what seemed like hours. Listening to them certainly made their children's messy histories make more sense. For a while I considered trying to leave, find my own way, but there was literally nothing but abyss around us so I quickly decided against it. Then my thoughts shifted to whether or not I'd have to choose a side between them, should this argument turn into an actual fight.
As I looked between the two it was difficult to figure out who I found more intimidating. Time was loud and even in his old appearance he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Night, while delicate in appearance, held a very cold and calculating look in her eyes that made me question just how soft she truly was. Truthfully I hated both options. Maybe I could take them both? I thought, touching my thighs. Right no daggers. They both looked at me curiously.
"Do you honestly think you could fight us both?" Night asked.
"Two Endless beings of greater power than you could ever know?" Time added.
I shrugged. "I don't know! It's not like I have a lot of options. And also it's quite rude to drag me here, test me, argue in front of me, then read my mind and judge me on trying to figure out how to fight you two if need be. Mind your own business, which it seems you two have plenty of!"
"Who would you choose of the two of us?" Time asked, sending Night a glare. "I am far more powerful."
Night merely rolled her eyes. "You always were so self important. The mortal would obviously pick me, for she has been given my blessing before."
"Another reason as to why she would choose me. For it is my blessing she needs now."
"ENOUGH! God I see why your kids are so fucked up! You two are, no offense, truly fucking terrible.” I looked at Night. “I thank you for giving me your blessing. I’m sorry I gave it away, but I’d do it over again if it meant saving those people.” I turned to Time, now an old man. “Give me your blessing or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going home with or without it.”
He tilted his head a little. “You think yourself capable of navigating the endless darkness?”
I shrugged again, frustrated and exhausted. “I don’t know, but I don’t care. I’m going home. If it takes me days or years I don’t care. If I fucking die here trying to find my way back… I. Don’t. Care. I have to try at least, I owe them all that much.”
“You are a curious human, Penelope Barlow.” Time said, stepping towards me and holding out his hand. “My son has asked me to save you.”
“Dream?”
“No, I’ve not spoken to Dream in eons. It was Destiny.” He changed again into a younger man. “He’s asked nothing of me since the creation of this world. Yet he asks for a favor now, for you… a mortal.”
I smiled at the thought. “He didn’t have to do that.”
Time nodded. “No, he did not, but he did. You hold much influence over my children and are regarded highly among them, for all would have asked this of me."
"You sound confused by that."
"I am. You are nothing but a mortal." Time insisted. "Your soul being bound to Dream means little in regards to my other children. And yet they would all come to me on your behalf."
"Maybe it would be easier to understand if you actually spent any time with them." I bit out. "Both of you."
Time didn't respond to the jab. "You passed the final test I had laid before you, The Fates were right in their assumptions. But, know that it is only for Destiny that I grant you my blessing.” I could see Night scoff as he held his hand out to me, old once again. Once my hand met his wrinkled skin, golden light filled the darkness.
My eyes drifted shut as the bright light grew hotter and filled the dark abyss, and when I opened them again I was back at the hotel, laying in the center of the aisle, chairs on either side of me. Some of my wounds had healed, the ones that would have killed me, but the others were still fresh and bleeding. My hand was blackened from the flames and burnt marks curled up my arm, remnants from the golden thread and there, laying at my side was the head of Mephistopheles and the burnt book that once bound him.
***
"Did you find her?" Matthew asked as soon as he landed at Dreams feet.
Dreams' eyes scanned the crowd for a moment. "No, but she's still here, I can feel it. We'll check inside."
He turned just as she hobbled out of the hotel doors. She froze at the sight of him, her tear stained face looked pale and sickly. The blood and wounds that covered her all over didn't help ease his conscience, but it was her hand that he focused on. Penelope cradled the right one to her chest, holding a black book, the dark lines of burnt flesh in the shape of rope, no, threads. She'd had to touch the burning thread, had to twist it around her arm to free herself of whatever torment his callousness had doomed her to.
For a moment they both just stood there, looking at one another, not willing or able to move first. He took a half step forward, and her eyes filled with tears, lips quivering as she closed the distance between them, crushing herself into his chest. He felt lighter, like he could finally breathe again as he hesitantly hugged her to him. Through her sobs she pleaded, "Can we go home? Please?"
Home. The word was bittersweet. It meant that she still considered The Dreaming her home, but also meant that even with what he'd said to her and denied her, she still trusted him. "Yes."
Her body relaxed as the chilled air of The Dreaming wrapped around them, but neither of them moved. Dream was afraid of what would happen after he let go of her. She had to be angry with him and after searching for her for so long… After seeing Desire's hands on her… Dream knew they had much to discuss. Matthew cawed. "I hate to ruin the moment but… Is that a head?"
She pulled back, lifting her left hand and the severed head she gripped in it. "Right. I'm gonna have to take this shit to Destiny tomorrow."
"What the fuck have you been up to the past few days?!"
"It's a long story," she admitted with a wince as she waved her hand, easily creating a box and tossing the head and book inside. Whatever she had done to gain the upper hand over the demon had unlocked her connection to his power fully now.
Dreams' eyes slid down to her deep wounds as blood dripped to the floor. "You need attended to."
She nodded, dazed and stumbled to the side. "Yeah, uh, I'm about to pass out. The… The blood loss is really starting to, uh, kick in so if you could… Catch me or something, I'd appreciate it."
Just as she predicted her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she began to drop to the ground. Dream caught her, holding her to him tightly. "Matthew, tell Lucienne that Penelope is back, and send her to my quarters."
"You got it boss," the raven said. Hearing his casual tone made Dream feel better. Perhaps now that she was back things could return to normal. He set her on the bed, carefully discarding her clothing and looking down at the deep wounds and still retreating black veins. No. Things would never go back to normal, at least not the normal he was accustomed to.
He worked tirelessly, sewing and wrapping her wounds with what magic and skill he had until he finished. He pulled fresh blankets over her and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her injured hand tentatively in his. Dream watched the black veins and discoloration fade from her skin. His hands helped cool the sweltering heat of her body and once the color had begun to return to her skin he let himself feel the relief of having her home.
It may not last. She could still wake up and decide to leave, but for now he was content. Penelope was home, here in their bed, and most importantly she was alive. Lucienne knocked at the door, entering quietly and clutching her hand to her chest at the sight of her friend. "My lord! What's happened to her?"
"I do not know," he admitted. "After she and the demon vanished I only saw a glimpse of whatever she faced. When she awakens, I'm certain she will fill you in on the details. The items she came with, where are they?"
"In the library, sir. I thought it best to keep a close eye on them, just to be certain they are truly dormant."
He nodded. "A wise course of action."
Lucienne stroked Penelope's hair and looked up at him. "Do you need anything, my lord?"
"I must finish this business with the vortex." His voice was soft and sad, unable to pretend any longer that the task at hand meant nothing to him. Rose Walker had proven herself to be brave and kind hearted and strong. She reminded him of Penelope when he'd first met her in the damp dark of the Burgess basement. And that only made his duty more difficult.
Lucienne nodded. "I'll stay with her."
"No," he said softly. "Return to the library and watch the artifacts she brought. Matthew can watch over her, that way I will be able to see her through him."
"Very well, my lord." She smiled down at Penelope and sighed softly, relieved. "I am glad she's home."
"As am I." He stroked her skin one last time before standing. Now he could only hope she wanted to stay.
***
When I opened my eyes I was back at Destiny's garden, everything had been repaired and put back just as it was supposed to be. Destiny stood beside the table, carefully setting it as the sun began to rise. "You are early. Or perhaps you are on time."
I smiled, laughing a little. "Were you expecting me?"
"No," he answered, turning around to face me. "But I was hoping you would come back."
"I have you to thank for that," I said, moving closer and wrapping him in a soft, weak hug. "Your parents are assholes, by the way, your dad especially."
His hand gently pressed against my back, his famous and comforting one armed hug. "I am simply glad you are here, Weaver."
"Me too." I mumbled. "How is Lyria?"
"She is resting," he said, turning to finish setting the table. "But she will recover quickly, thanks to you."
"Good." I sat down in my chair and sighed in relief as the pain subsided a little. "How are you?"
Destiny smiled. "I am better than I have been."
"Wow, a real answer?" I teased. "You sure she didn't hit your head too hard?"
He sat down across from me and shook his head fondly. "Did you retrieve the book?"
I nodded. "And the bastard's head."
"Both must be taken to Hell and returned to The Morningstar."
"You think Lucifer is involved in this?" I asked.
Destiny didn’t respond for a moment. “No, but Mephistopheles was a Duke of Hell and what remains of him should be returned to his master.”
There was more, I could feel it. “What else?”
“While you’re there I would ask you to retrieve some things of Lyrias from Lightbringer.” He looked at me, but this time there was a thinly concealed rage in them that I’d never seen before. “The demon stole them and took them to Hell in order to keep them from me. His remains should be enough to trade for them.”
"Alright, how do you want me to facilitate such a trade?" I asked. "The devil and I don't exactly have the best relationship."
Destiny gestured to a small letter beneath my cup. "I've written out what to say. Hopefully it keeps you out of trouble."
I opened the letter and read through the finely written, far too modest request.
Lucifer, Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I will offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts, as well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.
“Sounds simple enough," I said, moving to stand. A bit too simple.
His hand reached across the table and settled over mine. "Weaver, I simply wish for you to get Lyria's artifacts back, though I know there are some questions of your own need answered. So, I hope you shall heed my advice when I ask you to remember the ruler of Hell can be rather pedantic. Tread this path cautiously."
"Aren't I always cautious?" I joked.
"You will be going as my emissary." He gestured to the broach on the table. It was shimmering gold with an intricately carved depiction of his garden. "My sigil will mark you as my Fate Weaver and grant you entrance into Hell. They will likely be expecting you."
"Expecting me?"
"Word of Mephistopheles death will have reached them by now, along with the nature of that death.
I sighed, wincing at the pain that motion caused. "So I'm gonna be walking into a bloodbath?"
"No, so long as you do not stray from the path or your purpose."
"I'll be safe, Des."
"Of this I have no doubt, Weaver."
***
Back in Dreams bedroom I forced myself to get dressed just as Matthew flew through the window with a relieved sigh. “You fucking asshole!”
“Whoa, chill out there Smokey,” I said looking down at him as he perched on the bed. “Why are you so mad at me?”
“You disappeared!” He yelled with a caw. “They told me to watch over you til you woke up and you just poof, gone! I was worried! I thought for sure you’d gotten trapped or some shit!”
I winced as I sat down beside him. “Sorry Matthew. I didn’t mean to… poof. Destiny and I just needed to have a quick chat.”
He ruffled his wings at me. “Well, warn a bird next time.”
“I will,” I said, smoothing over his feathers. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Penny. For a while last night we thought we lost you for good.”
Looking around at the room, cast in rainbow light I chuckled a little. “You might have, for a little bit at least.”
“So, what did Destiny want?”
“I gotta take that shit I brought last night to Hell.”
“You’re going back to Hell?!” He cawed again. “Like willingly?”
Looking down at him with a smile I shrugged. “Looks that way.”
“God, you’re weird.” He said. “Come on, Merv and Lucienne are freaking out looking for you.”
“Did you tell them before you told Dream?”
He flew onto my shoulder. “Of course! I sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell the boss I lost you again!”
We walked through the halls for a while before Merv came around a corner and nearly slammed into me. His pumpkin features relaxed slightly as he pulled me into a hug. “Thank fuck! I thought you left us, kid!”
I smiled into his thin shoulder, inhaling the smell of pumpkin and tools. “I’d never abandon you guys.”
He steadied me as we walked the rest of the way toward the library where Lucienne paced back and forth as a dream stood off to the side of her. “He’s not going to be happy when he comes back and finds her gone again. Are you certain you checked everywhere?”
“She is nowhere outside the palace. We would have noticed her.”
“I do tend to stand out,” I said, hobbling forward towards them.
Lucienne let out a breath and ran to my side. “My lady!” Her arms wound around me, pulling me into her embrace. “You must stop scaring us like this.”
“I’m sorry, Lucienne.” I said. “Had a meeting to get to.”
She pulled away and helped Merv get me settled in a chair at the table. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m alright,” I insisted.
“My lady, you are badly injured,” she said, examining the deep wound on my neck. “You need to return to bed and rest.”
“No can do, Lucienne. I’ve got a job to do. Speaking of, where's the things I brought back?”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to the book and the… head?” She said moving around the corner to bring the box of the artifacts out. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.”
“Thanks,” I said, examining the box carefully as the feeling I’d tried to ignore since getting back began to bubble to the surface. “Where… Is Dream busy?”
Lucienne gave me a gentle look. “I just returned from helping him deal with the vortex.”
Shit. I tried to stand. “Is he okay? Did he…”
She set a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay sitting. “He’s alright, my lady. As is Rose Walker.”
“How? I thought there was no other way.”
“Normally there isn’t,” she said. “But, this whole situation appears to have been manipulated by Lord Morpheus’ sibling.”
“Desire.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Lord Morpheus is speaking with them currently.”
“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” The memories of them, their cruel game, filled my mind. “Is he… Did he seem angry?”
Lucienne looked confused for a moment. “He did. Desire’s game would have put the entire Dreaming at risk.”
I sighed. “And did he seem angry after I passed out?”
“No,” she said. “He was worried for you, my lady. All night he remained by your side, tending your wounds and ensuring that you were healing.”
“Thank you, Lucienne.” I said to her, standing to look over the artifacts in the box. “I need to get ready to go to Hell.”
Lucienne’s face immediately twisted into sharp concern. “My lady, that is most unwise! You are still injured!”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I still have to do this.”
“Surely it can wait,” she insisted.
“The longer I put it off the worse it’ll look to Lucifer. I killed one of their Dukes, they know that I did. Besides, I’d like to get this over with, and get a few answers.”
She seemed to understand as she looked down at my clothes. “Well, if you intend to travel to Hell, you may want to change into more appropriate attire.”
I laughed, nodding. “True.”
For the first time since the hotel I felt the surge of power that normally would have been Dream, but it was different. It wasn’t as strong as his, not by a long shot, but it was more than I’d felt before. I lifted my hands and ran them down the length of my body, watching as my clothes changed into light and breathable but strong material. The long sleeves were dark lines of multicolored thread glistened when I moved. The chest piece was golden armor with a half cloak of starlight pinned with Destiny's brooch. My daggers were secured to either side of my belt that snuggly accentuated my waist where the gown flared out and cascaded down my legs like a dark night sky.
Matthew let out a loud noise. “Damn Penny! That’s impressive!”
“You look amazing, my lady!”
“Kids got more talent with gowns than wood, that’s for sure,” Merv teased, bumping my shoulder.
“Hell appropriate?” I asked.
“Very much so.” She said as the doors to the library opened and the familiar light footsteps of Dream echoed through the library as he moved with haste.
Dream’s mouth opened, ready to call out to Lucienne no doubt, but he quickly shifted into a sigh as his eyes met mine and he swept towards us. Merv and the dream quietly excused themselves from the library, as Matthew and Lucienne moved to the corner. "There you are. You should be in bed."
"I have work to do," I answered, awkwardly fixing the fastenings of my newly made gown.
I could feel his eyes look me up and down, admiring either the gown or my figure beneath it. "And what work takes precedence over your health?"
Here we go. "I have to take these back to Hell."
I could feel that hum of his resistance roll through me. "No."
"Dream," I sighed. My side burned as I turned to look up at him. "You of all people can understand that this is important. It's my job, just as ruling over the collective unconscious of this world is yours. I have to do this and you have to let me."
"The Morningstar will be looking to ensnare you again." He warned. "Not only for your association to me, but because of your power and because you've killed one of their more powerful demons."
"I know." I touched the brooch. "Destiny has asked me to do this. As an emissary I should be free to come and go."
Dream still wasn't convinced. "Should be, but they will try to trick you or bend the rules."
"If worse comes to worse I'll just teleport out. They won't be able to hold me for long."
"I'm coming with you." He decided.
"No. If you set one foot in Hell they will either lock you up or kill you."
I was right and he knew it. "Take Matthew then."
With a sigh and a smile I shook my head. "Matthew hates Hell."
Dark and strong clouds took shape beside us as Storm bowed. "My lord, my lady. I wish to accompany you."
“I would gladly welcome your company, Storm,” I said, relieved that they were willing to join me. Having a friend at my back, especially one as intimidating as them would hopefully help calm my nerves and keep Lucifer from trying anything.
Dream acknowledged Storm with a polite nod and then looked at me one last time. It was obvious he didn't want me to go, but unlike all the times before he seemed softer as he agreed. "Be careful. You are still injured and they will see it as weakness."
"Thank you," I said, my hand brushing against his.
"I have one condition."
"Dream…"
He lifted his hands, a brilliant and gleaming circlet crown with a vibrant blue gem in the center of two butterflies sitting against his palms. "Wear this. That it may remind any that sees it of your status in our realm."
Without a word he set it on my head, wearing my hair around it and gently holding my face in his hands. "Thank you, Morpheus."
"Do not thank me for giving you what's rightfully yours." He pressed a kiss to my hand and squeezed it. "You will return once you've finished, won't you?"
"Of course I will." I answered. It was awkward between us, the things left unsaid and unacknowledged festing between us as we interacted with one another. "We have a lot to talk about."
Guilt and sorrow flared in his chest as he nodded. "We do, but later."
I smiled a bit and nodded. "Later."
"Yes," he replied fondly.
Lifting myself up on the tips of my toes I pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping the simple act could convey my sincerity, and turned to Storm. "Ready?"
They bowed again. “I am beside you, my lady.”
I secured the head onto my belt and grabbed the book, sparing one last look at Dream as black sand swirled around Storm and I, engulfing us in it and then fading away to reveal the charred bodies that lined the gates of Hell.
“There’s one at the door,” a heavy breathy voice followed. “At the gate of damnation. Is thief, thug or whore?” At the end of the burnt hallway of mangled bodies behind the twisted gate I could make out the tall and burly figure of the demon as he stood, waiting. “There’s one at the door. And there’s room for one more till the end of creation.”
The gates of Hell were less grand than I’d imagined and clearly geared toward terrifying anyone stupid enough to find themselves here. I walked forward with my head held high, I would not meet the Devil as a scared sniveling girl again. “Hello, Demon. I’ve come to speak with the Morningstar.”
The demon chuckled. “And who are you?”
“I am the Fate Weaver and Lady of The Dreaming.”
“Do all queens have such small crowns? Or is it just you?”
Thunder clapped behind me, a cold wind swirling in the air. “You can either open the gate or I can tear it open. The choice is yours, but either way I’ll be seeing your master.”
A smaller figure, gleaming in silver, stepped to the side of the demon guarding the gate. “Move, Squaterbloat. They’re expecting this one.”
“Mazikeen,” I said softly, nodding at her as the gates opened. “Thank you.”
She bowed her head to me. “Apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of our gatekeeper.”
I gave the demon a side glance as I walked through, looking at the dimly lit sky raining with fire ash. “It’s fine, one doesn’t expect courtesy in Hell.”
The path ahead was lined with demons, each holding a blazing brazier, the smell of their burnt flesh wafting towards me as Mazikeen gestured forward. “Our ruler awaits you in the palace and has prepared all of Hell to entertain you during your stay.”
“I have no need for entertainment,” I answered, holding the book tightly in my hand.
“Our master insisted. They said you will be staying for quite some time.”
“I’ve come to return something of your sovergines, as well as receive answers.” As we passed each demon, thunder echoed behind me and dark clouds plumed at my back. I smiled at the theatrics of my companion. It appeared I would be entering Hell with wings of my own. "I won't be staying long."
Mazikeen led me the whole way to the palace, across the steep winding bridge and through the large stone gates back into the familiar dark stone of the devil's palace. She bowed to Lucifer, moving into the shadows of the room as I stepped up the stairs. Their great wings tucked into their back as they turned to me with a smile. Their eyes looked at the wings Storm had given me with a chuckle. “Quite the entrance you make, Lady of The Dreaming.”
“I figured Hell would be the appropriate place for such theatrics,” I said, bowing my head. “I assume you know why I’m here.”
“You’ve come to return something of mine, I hope.” They looked at the book and then the head that hung around my belt.
I set the book on the table between us, then I unbound the head and set it beside it. The words Destiny had prepared for me rolled off my tongue. “Lucifer, honorable Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts.” Their eyes lit up as I spoke, delighted to hear such a formal message. “As well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.”
They waved their hand, a box being brought out by another demon and set on the table. “We were prepared for such a trade. You do surprise me though, dear one. Not so long ago you were shaking and fearful in this very room. And now, you stand before me again, tall and steady.”
“I’ve been through a lot in the past few months,” I said. “A meeting with the devil isn’t exactly surprising anymore.”
“There’s something else you want,” they said confidently. “Ask it, and perhaps I will grant it to you.”
I took a deep breath. The questions I had weren’t ones Lucifer could answer. Only one person could answer them. “I want to speak with Nada.”
Their smile grew wider as they moved around the table to stand in front of me, eyes piercing my soul. “Nada? Now why would the Lady of The Dreaming wish to speak with one their king has condemned to Hell?”
“She can answer some of the questions I have.” I said plainly.
Lucifer tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment. “Why should I let you speak to her?”
“Me asking is a courtesy,” I answered. “We both know I could just teleport to her if I wanted to. But, I wish to respect your authority in your realm, so please, allow me to speak with her and then I will leave.”
They chuckled. “Another question, why should I let you go? You are Dreams beloved and he would surely come to save you, should you be trapped. It would be quite a brilliant lure.”
“It would. But, it would also bring Destiny to retrieve me, and with him Death and Delirium.” Fire burned in their eyes. “I am a Fate Weaver and the Endless have made it known that they respect my position enough to defend me if need be. Is war what you seek?”
“It would make God quite angry with me.” They smiled, but their fire in their eyes faltered.
“It wouldn’t last long enough for him to notice. The Endless united would destroy you.” My words swam in their eyes as they regarded me with a look I’d almost consider admiration.
Lucifer stood up straight and gestured toward the windows of their palace. “You are free to seek out Nada, Lady of The Dreaming, I’ll allow you a short amount of time and then you will leave. Should you refuse to go, you will remain here.”
I bowed my head again, retrieving the box from the table. “Thank you, your majesty.”
With Storm at my back one of the demons had escorted me to the tall winding tower and up the steps to the thorned gates of the cell that housed the woman Dream had once loved. She was beautiful, even in the distressed state that Hell had driven her to. Her skin glistened in the dull firelight as she turned, shimmering brown eyes wide and hopeful. “Kai'ckul?”
Our eyes locked and a wave of confusion washed over her before understanding sparked. “Hello, Nada. Forgive me, if my presence has brought you more distress. I just wanted to speak with you.”
“He spoke true then?” She said quietly. “He has found another… His queen.”
I shook my head. “I’m not a queen. I’m just… Just me.”
Nada stood, moving to meet me at the gate, her hands curling around the thorns. “Yet a crown he's given you, small but more significant than you could ever realize. What is it you seek?”
“I…” Maybe this was a mistake. What would my questions accomplish? “I just wanted to know what he was like, when you knew him.”
“He was magnificent,” she said, eyes drifting off into the distance, some part of her finding a moment of release in the memories. “Beautiful and powerful… Being loved by him was consuming. Kai'ckul loves deeply and holds onto that which he loves with a grip like chains. We were never meant to be eternal, but I knew it was what he wished of me, and perhaps before the destruction of my home… perhaps things could have been different.”
She was kind, such a beautiful soul. “I am sorry about what happened to your people, and to you.” I looked around at the small space that was her prison. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Nadas' eyes returned to mine. “You cannot free me.”
“No,” I answered solemnly. “But I will try to convince him to return for your freedom.”
“Kai'ckul will not listen to you,” she said. “He listens to none but himself, for he is a proud king above all. I could feel how deeply he loves you when I saw him last, and I can see how deeply you love him. But he is Endless, his pride will never bend to anyone. One day he will cast you aside for duty and if you gain his ire he will cast you from his side… perhaps even to a prison like my own.”
Had I not already done that? Had I not questioned him and insulted him and gained his anger more than once? I shook my head. “That is not the man I know. He is stubborn and can be unmovable at times, quick to anger and prideful yes, but he’s never once threatened to cast me aside and when I have gone he has always come looking for me.”
Nada took in my words and smiled softly. “You think he has changed?”
“I know he has,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”
The demon that escorted me shifted, my time was running out. Nada took my hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it. “Lady of The Dreaming, I wish you luck in your endeavors. And… And I humbly ask that you not forget me. If anyone can convince him to free me, it is you.”
“I won’t forget.” I promised. “And the next time you see me, you’ll be free. I know it.”
The demon moved forward but Storm and I were gone, back in the library. I set the box down on the table and asked Lucienne to watch over it and went to find Dream. I expected him to be in the throne room, but he wasn’t. As I opened the door to the bedroom I didn’t see him at first, but when I turned to leave he emerged from the balcony. “You’ve returned.”
I could see the worry in his face melt away as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “Of course I did. We need to talk.”
“Indeed.” He sighed. “I thought you were trapped… You were gone longer than I expected.”
“I was safe,” I assured him, picking at my fingers. “I… I spoke with Nada.”
Dreams face fell again, dark and sad as he took on the weight of my words. “I see.”
“Does that upset you?”
“Only because I know what she will have said about me.” He admitted. “And I fear that it will change how you see me.”
“Nothing could change how I see you,” I said, just as he had to me all those months ago. “What you did to Nada was wrong, but you’ve already admitted that you know that.”
He studied my face closely. “Then why did you go to her?”
I shrugged. “I needed to know if the person I spent the last few months feuding with at every turn was the person your other lovers knew.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen the change in you. You are not that man anymore. After… After Roderick and the years we spent apart, you’ve changed Morpheus. I know that you don’t like to think you have, but you have.”
For a moment I thought he would insist he hadn’t changed, like all the times we’d spoken about it before, but instead he nodded. “I know.”
“What?”
“I know that I have changed,” he breathed out. “It was… unexpected and difficult to come to terms with, but… I am glad that I did. It puts many things into a different perspective.”
I took a step forward. “Like what?”
His starry eyes met mine as he moved closer to me. “I have treated you poorly… Have wronged you and denied you that which is your right and I have done it all to satisfy my own pride. Asking you to halt your duties as Lady of The Dreaming was my first mistake, one I regret more than words can express. Growing angry with you for doing that which is merely your nature to, was my second. You have helped this realm far more than anyone since you came here. You have brought hope and laughter back to The Dreaming in a way I never could have accomplished. But what I regret most deeply, is how I spoke to you the night you left. You were right. Gault did not deserve the punishment I gave her, nor did Nada. You were right to question my judgment and I… I am sorry that my words, my actions forced you to leave and placed you at the hands of my sibling.”
I stiffened at the mention of Desire, tears filling my eyes as I looked away from him. “That night… I kissed them. But I didn’t…” God I was so stupid. “I thought they were you. They looked like you and then I saw you in the mirror…”
“I know,” he said, reaching out to press a gentle hand to my arm. “I know what they did to you and I am sorry I did not get there sooner. I looked… I spent all night looking for you, I even asked Hob Gadling for help.”
I smiled a little. “I knew you were looking for me.”
“How?”
“I spoke to your sister. Despair first,” I admitted. “I kind of fell into her realm. But when I came back De… Delirium saved me from falling off a roof.” I smiled, only now remembering the way her eyes were the same color, blue just like Dreams. “She and I have known each other for a while though… From the asylum. She tried to get me to wait for you, but… I was scared.”
Dream stiffened, and even through the barrier still between us I could feel the hurt in him. “You were afraid I would hurt you?”
“No!” I said quickly, my eyes meeting his again as I grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating. “No, Dream… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d see me and it would just confirm that I was nothing more than a mortal. That I wasn’t worthy of being your equal. So, I left and then things started to get… worse. I’d only felt that out of control when I was back at the asylum and it.... I went to a bridge and, uh, almost jumped.” I could see the fear in his eyes grow. “Death brought Pierre to me and they stayed with me until Johanna picked me up.”
“I am so sorry that my sibling drove you to such a dark place,” he said. “You did not deserve that, none of it.” His eyes sparkled. “I am not worthy to have you as an equal… You are far more wise and loving and strong than I could ever hope to be, my love. You deserve my power.”
I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re an idiot. I never wanted your power Dream. I just wanted you.”
He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek. “I see that now. I know that the trust that was broken between us will take time to heal. Words are not enough to make up for all the months I’ve mistreated you, but I wish to show you now… in our room, what you mean to me, if you’ll allow me.”
I lifted my lips to his, just a breath away from touching. “Pierre asked me to make you work for my forgiveness.”
Dream smirked. “Did he?”
“Oh yes, I believe the exact word he used was grovel.”
“I will,” he said seriously. “If it’s what you wish I, Morpheus, King of Dreams will grovel before my lady.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want you to grovel, but I am going to make you work for it. You can start by kissing me.”
He needed no further instruction, hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him, his head ducking down to press his cold, silken lips to mine. Chills ran all over me as the barrier between us fell apart and both of us were overcome with everything we'd been holding back. For a minute all we could do was breathe against one another as everything settled between us. It would take time to sift through everything, but we had it.
Dream closed his eyes, holding me tightly. "It's good to feel you again. I've missed your heart bearing beside mine."
"As have I," I replied. "No more barriers."
"No more." He agreed, pulling me into another kiss.
It had only been a few days, but so much had happened it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last touched each other like this. He waved away our clothes, both of us moaning at the feel of each other's skin, as he moved us to the bed. His mouth was on my neck the second my back hit the silk sheets, biting and sucking and kissing down my body. He lavished each breast before moving lower, pulling my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them.
My hands fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots as his tongue lapped at my core, twirling around my clit and plunging as deep inside me as he could make it. My moans and mewls filled the room as the stained glass glowed brighter, casting Dream in a heavenly glow as he looked up at me from between my thighs. "God you're pretty."
He hummed against me, nearly bringing me to climax. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, chills breath fanning across my wet skin. "You are divine, in every way. Your body, your voice, your scent… The way you taste. I could spend hours feasting on you."
I moaned, tossing my head back with a breath. "I don't doubt it."
With a gentle chuckle he returned his mouth to me, moving in the way he knew drove me mad. I came, breathlessly against his tongue. He would have kept going, but I had other plans. I tugged at his hair until he rose from the floor, kissing up my chest until he reached my lips. Pulling him to me I kissed him desperately until his body relaxed on top of me. I flipped us over, hovering over him with a smile. "My turn, Dream Lord."
Unlike the few times before Dream relaxed into the bed, spreading his arms out, relinquishing full control to me. "I am yours, my love."
I returned the favor, sucking marks into his neck, kissing each one and moving down the length of his body until I reached his hard cock. Stroking it slowly in my hand I listened to every soft sigh and strained moan that spilled from his lips. Morpheus was never very loud in bed, but god the noises he did make were heavenly, or sinful perhaps.
I kissed his hips before moving my lips to pepper his cock with the feather light kisses and licks. His hands fisted in the sheets. "Penelope," he gasped. "Don't play games with me."
"I would never, my king," I answered, licking slowly up the length of him and swirling my tongue over the tip. My lips wrapped around him, slowly moving until the majority of him was in my mouth, my hand pumping what remained as I settled into a steady rhythm.
One of his hands fisted into my hair, not pushing me further down or pulling me away, just grounding himself as worked. I didn't know how long it took for him to take hold of my head and lift his hips eagerly into my mouth, his moans growing louder and louder until he pulled me off him and dragged me up to straddle his waist. I'd expected him to flip us over and retake control, but he didn't.
Morpheus looked into my eyes as he guided me down onto him, just like at the lake but this time his hands were soft against my skin. He let me move, set the pace and simply ran his hands along my skin, closing his eyes to savor the feel of us both moving against each other. He finally surrendered control and that fact drove me to move faster, to kiss him harder, to pour every ounce of love and admiration I held for him into this moment. Forgiveness, full and complete forgiveness, would take us both time, but in this moment there was no doubt in my mind that he was the man I knew him to be.
I came and he followed, but he continued to fuck me all through the afternoon, by the end of it both of us were spent and breathing against one another as we lay tangled in the sheets. "Was that satisfactory work for you, my love?"
With a smile I kissed him again. "It was a very satisfying start."
"Cruel thing," he teased, his hand resting on his chest where his ruby would have sat, reminding me of my own gem sitting in my drawer.
"Would a cruel thing have a present for you?" I asked moving to my desk and taking the necklace out, hiding it in my palm.
I returned to my place by his side. "A gift?"
"The project you were so curious about. It was this," I opened my palm and dangled the necklace in front of him. "It just seemed like you missed having one, so I made this."
Dream sat up and ran his fingers along the jewel with a soft smile. "It is magnificent."
I watched him slide it over his head and admired it against his bare chest. He lifted my head and kissed me deeply. "I shall have to make you a gift."
"You don't have to do anything," I assured him. "Just lay with me."
"Always."
As we lay together we caught each other up on all the details of the last few days. Both of us were content for the first time in a long time.
“Matthew said The Dreaming wasn’t doing so well after I left. I’m sorry if I caused any problems,” I said tracing shapes into his chest. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“You didn’t cause most of the damage,” Dream admitted. “It was Rose Walker and her friend, Lyta Hall.”
“What did they do?”
Dream sighed. “Rose weakened the barrier between dreams and reality, giving her friend an opportunity to live out a life with her dead husband, who had been using dreams to avoid his fate. I had to step in. Her husband is now at the place appointed for him and Lyta Hall and her baby are within my sight.”
“Baby?” I sat up a bit. “She had a baby in The Dreaming?”
“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he clarified. “When he grows I will have to make certain he’s safe.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you tell her that? Should we be checking in on them?”
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Oh I doubt she would be happy to see me again.”
“I mean you took her husband from her, but that wasn’t really up to you. You just did what you had to.” I answered, examining the look on his face. “What else did you do?”
“I may have… rushed through the process and… perhaps… insinuated I would take her child.”
My mouth fell open as I glared down at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”
He sighed. “I informed her that the child was conceived in The Dreaming and told her I would come for it.”
“Dream!” I slapped his arm. “You cannot just tell people you’re going to steal their kids!”
“I’ve no intention of stealing the child!” He argued. “He has power, and such can be used against us should another being learn of his existence. He will need to be watched over and taught how to harness his abilities eventually.”
“I understand that,” I said sternly. “Lyta Hall does not! She’s just a human that thinks some god is coming after her kid.”
I stood up and started getting dressed. “What are you doing?”
“WE are going to apologize to Lyta Hall and assure her that her kid isn’t getting stolen.” I waved my hand to him. “Get up, baby stealer, let's go.”
Dream complied with a heavy sigh. “I forgot how demanding you can be.”
With a smirk I pulled myself into his chest. “I can be very convincing too.”
“I am aware,” he said, kissing my lips gently. “You’ll be showing me after we return from this endeavor.”
“Will I?” “I too can be very convincing, my lady.”
***
We stood awkwardly in their living room, everyone staring us down but none more than Lyta. She blocked the path between us and Daniel with a glare that spoke the words she did not. I turned and glanced back at Dream, who met her glare with one of his own. “Could you just try to not look so… you?”
He practically rolled his eyes as he looked over at me. “This was your idea.”
“You need to apologize,” I said quietly as I elbowed him. “You promised!”
Dream sighed heavily, stepping forward a bit and addressing Lyta. "I am sorry for insinuating that I would steal your baby."
"The gift too."
A quiet groan. "Here is a gift, to show our good will."
He held the onesie out to Rose, who took one look at it and chuckled. “My little Dreamer?” She asked looking up at Morpheus who looked back at me with a glare when my giggling grew too loud.
“If I recall, you are the one that chose this gift,” he practically growled.
“I did! It was just too funny.” Rose laughed with me as Dream and Lyta continued their glaring. Rose turned to her friend, showing her the soft fabric and though her anger and near hatred remained prominent I could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. I stepped around Dream and held the basket out to her. “There’s also these.”
Lyta looked at the basket and then up at me. “Why are you doing this?”
I smiled. “Because I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to lose your husband again and then have to fear losing your baby too. Dream is….” I shook my head and shrugged. “He’s an idiot. But, I can assure you he has no intention of stealing your baby.”
“How can we know that?” She demanded. “He’s some kind of god, isn’t he? What’s to stop him from just doing what he wants?”
“Me.” I answered without hesitation. “If he tried to take your child I would stop him.”
Dream's hand on my back was comforting as he replied, “It will not come to such. I give you my word that I will never seek to part you from your son, Lyta.”
She didn’t look convinced, but when Rose grabbed her hand and nodded she softened a bit. “Alright, well what do you want?”
“To offer my protection, to both of you,” Dream said. “He was born of a dream and as such he was born with power. One day I fear there will be those that seek to use him for their own gain.”
Seeing the renewed fear in her eyes I stepped forward and smiled. “Don’t worry, between the two of us he’ll be safer than the pope.”
She laughed a little and took hold of my hand. “Why does it feel like I can trust you?”
“Because you can,” I answered. “You might not know me, but I’d never let anyone hurt a child. Nor would I attempt to steal one from its mother.” I sent Dream a glare over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding and no doubt fear it’s placed into your life unnecessarily.”
Rose lifted the basket up. “I mean if the amount of gifts they brought means anything I’d say they’re telling the truth.”
I took the soft raven plushie off the top of the pile and showed it to Rose. “Matthew’s contribution. May I?”
Lyta stiffened for a second, fear and anxiety plaguing her as she shifted to the side, letting me move toward Daniel. “Yeah.”
He was laying in his crib, oblivious to anything other than the small winding mobile hanging over him. When I bent over the side his eyes slid up to mine and a wide smile spread on his chubby cheeks as I held the raven out to him. His tiny hands took hold of it, “Jessamy.”
I smiled, tears swelling in my eyes as I studied the plushie. “It does look more like her, doesn’t it?”
Lyta and Rose came rushing to him, praising him for the word, quite possibly his first, as I looked back at Dream who smiled at the sight. It was awkward and full of tension, but it was a start. Dream rarely came with me when I visited Rose and Daniel and Lyta, but that was more to ease Lytas mind. He sent gifts with me, clothes and toys, books from Lucienne dedicated to recording Daniels first within The Dreaming. She had gushed over it for hours, pointing out how magnificent of a dreamer Daniel was.
The last time I visited them everything was the same as it always was, but this time when Daniel fell asleep with his plush raven I noticed a tiny name tag around its neck that read Jessamy. I smiled to myself at the thoughtfulness of it. Dream may not have visited often, but when he did he made sure he always left something behind for the growing boy.
***
The months that followed were hard, but unlike before it felt like Dream and I were a team. We solved problems together, he came to me for my council and considered my opinion before making any decisions. He even started delegating some of his work to me, teaching me how to do things around The Dreaming and trusting me to do what I felt was best. He even let me help him in designing new dreams and nightmares.
The residents of The Dreaming were glad to have me around and it seemed like they valued my contributions to their world. It took a while before they began to see the change in Dream, but once they did the change was almost instant. They were always happy to see him as he walked through the town, it was no longer simply respect that they showed him but also the love he had longed for from them. Dream would spend some time among them every day, creating things, conversing, listening to their complaints or criticisms and taking it into account. If there were changes that he could make, he would.
It was good to finally see him receiving the adoration he deserved. He still had moments of forgetfulness, but The Dreaming and its residents were far more understanding of it now that they understood. He was trying his best, and everyone saw it. Accepting that he had changed was difficult for him, but now that he was here he seemed far more willing to not only accept it but embrace it. Things between us only grew stronger as the days passed, and if possible I’d fallen even more in love with him.
I walked along the beach, toward the distant figure of Lucienne and Dream. This was where he liked to work, far from the noise of The Dreaming and somewhere open enough for him to create freely. The closer I got the more visible the new dream became and a smile pulled at my lips. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”
She laughed, the cosmic color of her dark skin lighting up and her wings flaring out proudly as she examined herself. “Thank you, Lucienne.” She smiled up at Dream. “May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?”
“I have no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that, so did you. But now I’m listening, or trying to.” He sent Lucienne a smile. “New dreams. New nightmares. A new age.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I moved closer with a bright smile. “Stealing my ideas now, Dream Lord?”
He chuckled. “You hardly invented butterfly wings, my lady.”
“They suit you, Gault.” I said to her, “You make a beautiful dream.”
“Thank you, my lady.” She bowed her head to me and then turned to Dream and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
She flew up into the sky, the blues and purples of her wings glittering in the sunlight. “I may be here a while. Would you mind taking care of things while I work?” He asked Lucienne.
“With pleasure, sir.” She answered happily as she bowed to us both and turned back towards The Dreaming.
Dream watched Gault fly into the clouds a moment before looking at me. “I believe there was another nightmare you wished to change.”
I nearly cried as I nodded. “Are you alright with that?”
“I am.” He said, and I could feel how deeply he meant it. “They have served you well in the past months, and they deserve to be what they wish.”
Holding the vial of storms in my hands I summoned the dark clouds and lightning. Storm looked around, confused for a moment before bowing. “My lord, my lady. Do you have need of me?”
“You once told me you wished to be a dream,” I started. “Do you still?”
They looked at Dream but nodded. “Yes.”
I placed the vial in their forming hands and held them tightly in my own, feeling the darkness and the cold winds between my palms. I focused on white clouds and calm seas, the sky as the sun rose and filled it with light and warmth. The vial shattered and wind swirled around us for a moment before light spread up Storms form, dark clouds shifting and changing color until they stood in front of me, calm puffy white clouds with hues of orange and purple, warm and filled with joy. “Then a dream you are, my friend.”
They looked at themselves, bright sunny eyes looking up at me with joy. “Thank you, my lady.”
“No, thank you. If not for you… your loyalty and friendship, well I wouldn’t be here.”
Dream stood beside me, a hand on my back. “I thank you, dream, for being there for my lady when I could not.”
They bowed. “It was my honor. But… Now I will not be able to serve you, my lady.”
“You don’t need to,” I answered. “Go, be a dream my friend. Feel the sun.”
“I need a new name,” they said. “Would you give me one, my lady?”
“What about Cloud Shaper?” I asked.
The clouds puffed up happily and the light hues shined brighter. “Cloud Shaper. You honor me, my lady.”
I watched them spread out over the sky, filling it with various shapes and hues of color, leaning into Dreams' side. “Thank you.” “I did nothing,” he insisted. “Now, I must return to my work, but I will join you later, my love.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ve got to get back to work too. I’ll find you when I’m done?”
Dream pressed his head to mine for a moment. “I would like that.”
After I finished my duties I went to the library to spend some time with Lucienne while I waited for Dream to finish his work, but to my surprise he was already there. He and Lucienne spoke softly to one another. What was he planning? I asked myself as I walked closer, nearly tripping when three loud caws echoed in the room. Matthew was perched on the shelves between me and them, standing guard. They turned to me and smiled, ceasing their conversation as I moved closer. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Dream asked. Was he nervous?
I tilted my head. “You’re up to something.”
“Perhaps. But it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”
Lucienne smiled wider. “You’re not going to tell me either?”
She laughed. “No, my lady, I fear I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“What about you Smokey?” I asked Matthew.
“Not a chance Penny.”
Dream held his hand out toward me with a smile. “Will you join me for a walk?”
I tapped my foot, pretending to think it through, before smiling up at him and taking his hand. “I suppose I could make time for you.”
“Busy are you?”
“Very!” I insisted. “I am Lady of the Dreaming, you know. It’s a very demanding position.”
“Oh I’m certain it is.”
He offered me his arm and I took it without question. We made our way through The Dreaming, greeting everyone we passed and the whole walk all I could feel was Dreams joy. He was happier than I’d ever seen him and in turn it made me feel even more joyful. At last, he was finding the balance between his duty and his people and I was proud of him. He’d come a long way. We walked down a new path, filled with tall trees and wildflowers swarmed with butterflies, it felt familiar the longer we walked. “What is this place?”
“Fiddlers Green,” he answered.
“The last of your missing Arcana?”
“Yes,” he said. “And somewhere you have wished to see for a long while.”
The path opened up to a field of wildflowers, in the distance a waterfall of crystal clear water roared to life, pouring into a lake that sparkled in the rising moonlight. It looked just like I imagined it would, no, how I pictured it could never do it justice. "It's beautiful."
"The sandman never forgets a dreamer," he said beside me.
With teary eyes I smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"After all you endured because of me," he paused, cold fingers gliding over the scars on my collarbone. "I owed you this at the very least."
"You're Dream of the Endless, you owe nothing to anyone, least of all me."
"I owe you everything, Penelope." It wasn't said out of obligation, but instead he said it like it was a simple fact. Nervousness tingled up my spine as he breathed out a breath. "None of this would have been possible without you."
"You would have done alright on your own," I assured him.
He swallowed thickly. "Perhaps, but it would not have been the same. You have reminded me of so much that I once thought lost, so much that I'd never thought I would want again. My subjects love, one to share my burdens with… A family." Turning toward me he smiled. "Penelope, I would give you anything you wished for and I promised you once that I would make you a queen if you wished it."
"Morpheus," I whispered. "You are all I want, whether or not the title comes with it I don't care as long as I have you."
"Would you wish to become my Queen and bind yourself to me?" He suddenly asked, eyes shining.
I smirked. "Pretty sure we're already bound together. But yes, I would."
He lifted his hand, opening his palm to reveal a new moonstone ring, more beautiful and extravagant than the last. Two butterflies held up the gleaming stone set in a silver band of starlight. "Will you marry me, Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver?"
Happy tears filled my eyes as I nodded. "Yes. I will marry you, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." Once he slid the ring on my finger I grabbed his gem necklace and pulled his lips to mine. The Sandman never forgets a dreamer indeed. I thought, making him smile against my lips.
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COMIN AT YOU LIVE FROM THE STYX CONCERT TO-NITE!!!!
WERE OFF TO A GREAT START!!!!!! GRRRRAAAAAHHHHH
ALRIGHT I THINK IM JUST GONNA EDIT THIS POST!!!!! the opening artist is wonderful and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside
he talked about making candles in the 60s and going to hollywood parties!!! also i talked this guy behind me’s ear off about KWH and he didn’t mind which i’m very glad about
oh my god his guitar’s blue now that’s his attack
this guy has had a really interesting life, i wish i could have a really long conversation with him you know? he talked about traveling with his gf in a volkswagen bus and playing music during the 60s
opening act seems to be over!!!!!! ONLY A MATTER OF TIIIIME
IM IN THE BATHROOM i’m so scared that they’re on aaaaahhhhhhh
THEYREBPLAYING IT
greetings! it’s stan from post-concert! now that i’m a little more coherent, i can tell you that THEY FUCKING PLAYED MR ROBOTO!!!!!!!!!!
IT WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY NIGHT AND I SCREAMED SO LOUD I THINK MY VOICE IS GONE
and even bigger highlight:
I GOT PICTURES WITH LAWRENCE AND JY!!!
which meansssss… hold on (rummaging through filing cabinets noise)
THATS ME!!! WITH THE WEIRD BANGS!!! sorry i look weird, i was dancing and cheering and collapsing all night
my favorite part was when i was like “ohhhh i’m not worthy” jokingly when talking to JY and he goes “yes you are. come here” and we hug and i will never ever ever forget that
here’s me pre-concert since i looked a little nicer haw haw
this whole experience made me feel wonderful. it was all wonderful. thank you for reading this far
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Trans Cult: “By saying he identifies as woman now he’s mocking our struggles” Women: “That must feel insulting” 🙄
MUNCIE, Ind. (TND) — A GOP councilman in Indiana has announced that he now identifies as a woman of color and a lesbian, but critics say they believe he is just being insincere and mocking marginalized people by doing so.
Delaware County Councilman Ryan Webb announced on Facebook that he had "decided to come out and finally feel comfortable announcing my true authentic self."
“It is with great relief that I announce to everyone that I identify as a woman and not just any woman but as a woman of color as well. I guess this would make me gay/lesbian as well, since I am attracted to women.," Webb said.
“Whew, that felt good to finally get that out there and start living life as my true self. I’m excited to bring some diversity to the county council," Webb added, "Until today we didn’t have any females of color or LGBTQIAPC+++ on the council. I’m glad that now we do!"
Webb also included a "winky face" emoji in his Facebook announcement. Many of the replies to his post call Webb "pathetic" and "embarrassing" for his perceived mockery of transgender, nonbinary and other LGBT groups.
Delaware County's government website says Webb is a father of five and married to his wife Brandy. In his coming out announcement, Webb clarifies that everyone can continue calling him "Ryan" or "Councilman Webb" and that he will retain his preferred pronouns of "He/Him."
“However, this will in no way diminish my true identity as a woman of color," Webb claims in the post.
In a later edit of the same post, Webb adds that it had come to his attention that his new identity "more than likely" makes him "the very first lesbian woman of color in the history of Delaware County to ever serve on the Delaware county council."
Webb added that he was "honored" to be the person to "shatter that glass ceiling." Webb also added the hashtag "#GirlPower" in his edit. Webb also edited his announcement from originally claiming his new identity aligned with that of a Black woman to the current reading, where he maintains calling himself a woman of color.
When local news station WISH-TV reached out to Webb asking if he would like to do an interview on his new identity, Webb reportedly declined an on-camera interview, but still provided a statement.
The councilman told the news station that his family had been "receiving violent threats throughout the day from intolerant liberals who refuse to accept my decision to live my life however I choose," and that he didn't "really see how an interview will improve the situation."
“It is unfortunate, but a group called Indiana Progressives has decided to organize a hate and harassment campaign against me and my family by publishing my address and encouraging people to unlawfully congregate at my home," Webb told WISH-TV. "I have to look out for the safety of my family, including our 6 children. There are people with serious mental health issues encouraging people who are unwelcome to come to my home, so I think it’s best to politely decline your on-camera interview."
Webb reportedly added that he found it "unfortunate" he could not "simply be given the same space and respect to explore my identity that so many of those targeting me demand for themselves." Webb also told WISH-TV that while his "American Indian heritage is not up for debate," it remains "possible I may change my mind down the road."
“I hope that in the future those asking for tolerance and understanding are willing to give it in return and not just to those who they feel is worthy of it," Webb added. "Nobody has the authority to validate or invalidate any individual who chooses to identify a certain way."
Again, Webb's critics simply don't believe he is adopting a new identity, and is instead mocking transgender, nonbinary and other marginalized people with his public social media post.
The National Desk reached out to Webb for comment and clarification on his announcement. Webb said the following:
“Thanks for reaching out. I don’t believe I am compelled to offer anyone and proof of my sincerity or pass any perceived litmus test of questions in order to live my life however I choose. If they don’t want to accept my position of identifying however I choose then that is their issue, not mine. As of today I have yet to hear of any other individual who was pressured to “prove” their gender identity. How I identify is how I identify, it’s as simple as that and isn’t up for debate. I’m focused on my private life as well as my duties serving the people of Delaware County.”
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tori i can’t you basically throw 3 chapters at me in 2 days? i’m both panting & crying bc too many emotions lol
twrt:
atsumu-
atsumu still hot but who are we kidding when is he not
the opening? with sweet realizations??? i’ll always love spicy fics but ones with tender moments like them waking up in each other’s arms & soft sex was everything
and the future-life-preview at the end was too much omg😭 happy endings are the best & i love the idea that they stay together, help each other through everything, still interact and hold relationships with each other’s friends, etc🥹
maki-
this was so adorable, i loved having the possibility of seeing how they’d potentially end up if reader chose the other path
gotta feel bad for atsumu tho, reader just being like “oopsies i like someone else, bye!” immediately after fucking him and he confessed his love
while i am still an atsumu simp (and lowkey didn’t remember who maki was until i read this fic oopsies) , this is just too cute, and i love the interactions between reader & him, the way he treats us, etc.
not fair:
GIRL THIS TOO MUCH
ngl i found it really funny that they did all that with yams then ditched his ass the next morning without him knowing 😂
obvi tsukki is the king of rough, spicy sex, but the scene at the end where he’s softer/kinder is super adorable. i always love when fics give tsukki character layers & you win 🥇
emotional that these are ending soon🥲 but they’ve been so good! i typically never read fics as they’re being posted live, but i’m so glad i did with these omg. looking forward to next week’s conclusions ❤️
**cough cough i’ve delayed saying this bc i wanted to read it all lol, but ngl twrt has such a movie script feel to it & coming from a student with film minor, it’s amazing. you should pull a 50 shades and get it converted, just change around character names lol. just sayin🤷🏼♀️**
GRACE BABE I KNOW. IVE literally posted so fucking much these past few days omfg. BUT AH. ok wow. all of ur thoughts and little mentions are AH TY AND YES. hehehe. and (so valid you didn’t know who maki was. canon timeskip maki is hot, fan maki is /: heartthrob man) and not fair last chapter is my fav not fair chapter ♡ gettin BACJ TO MY ROOTS.
and AH omg omg. that’s so sweet T-T im so glad you’ve followed along week by week too. your interactions have been so great and so looked forward to.
PAH okay but writing twrt was my first big realization that i really could write a book. i wrote it in like 2 weeks and barely edited it. if i edited it and took some time it could be like shelf worthy man. but seriously tysm that’s so sweet and >:U very NICE
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38, 41 (I’m always cruising for fic recs!) 42 & 48 ❤️
Thank you so much for playing!!! I appreciate the asks, and apologize for the amount of shit I about to write. I messaged you about losing this draft, but apparently tumblr just sent it to the bottom of my draft pile, so here we go! Putting it under a cut, because I went so overboard.
38: Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?
Alright, so this one is a little complicated. On the one hand, my most popular fic by far is Flint And Steel, but while the numbers definitely shocked me the most, it didn't surprise me. Most of my stuff is of side-pairings and f/f stuff, which isn't as popular in this fandom, so of course a fic with the big three of Jaskier, Geralt, and Yennefer is gonna get more traction in the form of shares and comments. The ones that surprised me though? The first two installments of my lady laiden smut series, Sweeter Than Pride and Collars of Many Kinds. Those two got awesome comments and bookmarks from people I didn't even recognize. And the sheer number of hits on them means there's definitely people re-visiting them, which is the highest kind of flattery on my smut fic.
41: Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”
I refuse to choose only one, so buckle up, you're getting six. Also, to everyone I @'d, I hope you don't mind, I can remove it if you prefer.
I Am Bound To You (With A Tie I Cannot Break) by @on-a-lucky-tide. He did a fucking incredible job at conveying very complicated emotions in actions, and made me cry for entirely too long. I want to develop this skill so badly.
A Beginners Guide to Exploiting the Kaedweni Tax Code For Fun and Profit by @heronfem. If you ever want a masterclass in translating characterization to a modern au, this is IT. It's a massive Laiden-centered project with the whole found family along for the ride, and they handle the large cast beautifully. I've never really done a modern AU, but if I do and it's half this good, I'll be thankful.
Lives in Legacy by @tantumuna. This fic is is not only long enough to make me pass out in envy, every word counts. It explores a truly dark omegaverse with Eskel and Geralt, and there aren't words to describe it. I felt truly indescribable amounts of pain while reading this, even during the healing, and I'm so glad to have done it.
Snow and Dirty Rain by ajfanfic. It's a lovely little series of 70s lesbians Geralt and Jaskier living through that era as queer women and adopting butch lesbian Ciri. It's just a wonderful, well-researched AU, and I want to emulate that kind of grounded world.
Worthy of the Honey-Comb by @castillon02. It's a portrait of Vesemir coming to terms with Kaer Morhen's destruction and having to step up for the remaining wolves and form a new image of what it means to be a wolf witcher. Combines flashback and present moment so well it makes me ache.
Ballads by @linearao3. This is not a witcher fic like the rest, but it is one of the best examples of synthesizing omegaverse into a book's canon. This made me feel so many things, and again, all the details and worldbuilding just make it spectacular.
42: Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?
My dear @hellinglasses has become a dear friend and has always been a wonderful cheerleader. Ever since the day she sent 9 comments on all my fics to my dry-as-the-desert inbox. Her efforts have helped me write so much more than I thought I could, and while I love going back to re-read them all, this one om Calm Before The Storm is probably one of my favorites.
This comment by Ledgea will forever hold a place in my heart, because it was the first comment I ever received, on the first fic I ever wrote. They made it into an amazing comment thread, and it was just so encouraging to me as a first-time writer. (EDIT: I put the wrong comment by mistake, because i was trying to limit myself)
48: What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?
According to my history, the last fic i (re-re-re-re-)read was Cock in the Henhouse by the wonderful @halehathnofury. It's a hilarious, filthy Geralt x Eskel anthology, and I have entirely too many feelings about it. Excellent for a night when you just need to feel good all over.
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This week’s Monday Philm is really a Monday miniseries: HBO’s Empire Falls (2005), one of PSH’s few television appearances and the one for which he earned an Emmy nomination!
Such an interesting show, really. I like the worlds Richard Russo writes—these dilapidated New England towns that might first appear quaint and nostalgic but really have some rough edges and danger to them. I prefer North Bath from Nobody’s Fool/Everybody’s Fool, but Empire Falls isn’t the worst place to spend a few hours (unless you’re C.B. Whiting, I guess).
It has some strange pacing, though. Two long episodes that are each broken up into several “chapters” and the tone is all over the place, especially the last 20 minutes or so. I’ll never forget my shock upon watching that plot... twist? for the first time (it’s hardly even a twist. It’s like a plot explosion). Amazing cast (happy birthday, Ed Harris!) but a pretty middle-of-the-road script overall. There’s a lot going on in the book that’s hard to translate to screen without quite a bit of exposition. The kid who plays little Miles is the cutest. And such a brief performance, but Josh Lucas as younger Max/Paul Newman is absolutely amazing casting.
Phil took this role because Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward asked him to, and he adored them so much he would’ve found a way to walk on water if they’d asked it of him. He IS almost criminally underused, but as another review I read today stated, too much more of Charlie probably would’ve overplayed his character. His mystique is essential. However, I’m glad I read the book version of Empire Falls because it fills in a few details the miniseries doesn’t address. The biggest realization I took from the book (spoiler ahead) is that Grace became disillusioned with Charles when she realized he’d leave his daughter behind. That’s not even alluded to in the show—the end of their relationship is a bit more nebulous? but it perfectly wraps up why they fully stopped seeing each other for me.
But overall, pretty fun performance from Phil (despite how miserable Charles is). Almost reminds me of a character out of an O’Neill play or something. Voice so low and unaffected with that New England accent and flat laugh, very much grown-up Freddie Miles! Romantic and swoon-worthy, too, especially in those light suits and baby blue slacks.
Stories like this, where people’s lives don’t work out the way they way they wanted and end tragically, have been gutting me lately. Poor Charles, poor Grace. But also I was constantly thinking of the P.S. I Love Hoffman episode where they talk about how Charlie has manic pixie dream girl lighting the entire show. That makes it horribly difficult to gif and edit but he really is GLOWING the whole time!!!!
#also I have a formal complaint#the book spends a not insignificant amount of time describing charlie shirtless. and yet. no shirtless scenes 🤨#MULTIPLE sentences about his chest and back hair. LET ME SEE IT!!!#monday philm#empire falls#philip seymour hoffman#psh#*#when he's in the car with grace and he's rubbing her shoulder. he does this sort of petting gesture that is So husband.....
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