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specshroom · 5 months

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•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)

Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he.

All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades.

They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.

One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other.

Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover.

The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up. Uraume kneels before him.

"Master Sukuna."

They say bowing their head.

"Hmm?"

Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt.

Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."

Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.

In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.

In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-

*SLAP*

Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly.

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"

Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol.

" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!"

The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up.

"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"

"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-"

As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence.

" Welcome back master, it's good to see you"

The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them.

Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.

The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face.

"What's your problem?"

"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch."

The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.

She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.

Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.

"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?"

The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.

"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.

"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.

In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.

"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.

Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now.

The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.

They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air.

Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.

"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.

"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.

"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.

She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.

"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"

She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.

"I have made the preparations for your bath."

"Thank you, Uraume~"

The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.

"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.

She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.

"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"

She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.

Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.

"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"

As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.

"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"

"Of course, Master"

Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.

She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.

"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"

Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.

The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.

"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"

Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.

His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.

Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.

(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)

#this art of Sukuna will live in my head forever now btw #Uraume my beloved #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna scenarios #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #true form sukuna #uraume #uraume x reader #queen of curses

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mokshalifestyleinternational · 1 year

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#carrier oil #skin restoration #acne prone skin #greasy skin #salicylic acid #sebum imbalance #natural glow #wonderful skin

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valorascult · 10 months

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Holistic Glow-Up Checklist

Healthy skin starts within

Address hormonal imbalances

Invest in getting blood work done to find out what you body has too much of and too little of (this saves you time and money. you may be using vitamins you don't even need)

Incorporate skin-loving ingredients into your meals

Eat a balanced diet

Eat fermented foods (Kombucha is your bff)

Cultivate self-awareness & compassion

Keep a journal

Engage in regular self-care

Sync with your cycle

Get ready for bed before you're tired

Do the shadow work

Invest in your personal growth

Enroll yourself in classes you've never taken before

Read the books you've been putting off

Develop useful skills

Pick up a new hobby

Embrace Mindfulness

Practice breathwork (I use pranayama and use youtube vids to guide me)

Set aside time for meditation

Frequently go on 10min+ walks

Always pause and reflect

Create morning and evening routines

Limit screen time in the evenings and about and hour after you wake up

Use blue light filters (you can shift you phone / laptop to night shift)

Take time in the mornings to relax, meditate, lay in silence, be mindful of your body during this time, allow yourself to feel that your body is working

End the day with a calming, restorative nighttime routine

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dannyphantom-zero · 4 months

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Doctor Danny Prompt

Danny Fenton is largely regarded as an ignorant slacker as a result of his schoolwork and study time consistently being interrupted by ghost attacks. Thankfully after Danny is crowned high king of the ghost zone he is able to reign the ghosts in and makes them all swear an oath not to cause trouble, they are still allowed to visit the human world of coarse, some even mask themselves as human and lead ordinary loves even while being dead.

With more time on his hands and little to no ghosts attacks Danny misses the rush he used to get. Then one day a man collapsed in front of him, Danny is able to save the man using CPR and he discovers his new affinity. Medical practice.

Danny goes to college and gets into a hospital as a resident after interning, not long after though the Amity Park hospital closes due to lack of funding and he is forced to find another hospital.

He got a good recommendation from his previous hospital to work at a hospital in Gotham, definitely far from home, but he doesn't let that stop him.

Soon after working there he finds the influx of patients to care for refreshing, he becomes widely known as a genius miracle doctor.

One day he's taking a leisurely walk when he found an injured vigilante, the Red Hood, hes not conscious and therefore unable to give consent for treatment. Danny cares for Red Hoods injuries privately away from a hospital so as to keep the vigilantes identity a secret.

Red Hood is cautious and rude at first, but slowly he learns to open up to the doctor and even get continuously treated by Danny.

Danny is just finishing a shift when he hears about Superman being shot with a kryptonite bullet. Despite using his powers occasionally to treat patients, he's been able to keep his ghost gene a secret.

However that's about to change. He arrives on the seen and pushes his way through the police using a bit of his powers discreetly to get through.

The heroes aren't sure what to do.

"My name's Daniel Fenton, I am an attending physician at Gotham General Hospital, I specialize in supernatural anatomy, Cardiology and Endocrinology"

"All due respect doctor, his skin is impenetrable, you won't be able to operate on him"

Danny kept a cool face.

"That would be true for a normal human, I can't explain right now, every moment we wait is time we could be using to save the patient"

Danny used his ghost powers to see inside Superman body.

Several heroes gasped as they witnessed the doctors eyes turn a glowing green and then his arm became transparent. Danny stick his hand on Superman chest and pulled out the bullet.

As soon as the bullet was out Superman's skin began healing and restoring itself.

Danny let out a breath of relief before letting the superheroes escort him to the hall of justice where they sat with him.

"I would like to begin with we all can't thank you enough Dr" Batman said.

"wow, Mr tall dark and broody is being nice" flash whispered.

"Yes but I'm sure you still have questions for me."

Several heads nodded.

"are you of an alien race?"

Danny chuckled.

"No, nothing like that. My parents were scientists who were obsessed with the study of the paranormal, specifically ghosts. When I was young, around the age of fourteen I would say, my friends convinced me to go inside the newly constructed portal shell that my parents had tested earlier that day."

He paused waiting for them to take in his words before continuing.

"It had failed to operate then so I went in thinking it was safe. I was wrong. My parents had unknowingly instilled the charge to start the portal on the inside of the shell. I didn't know it was even there until I tripped on some tangled exposed wire and my hand pressed it"

"did it hurt?" Flash asked. He got a few dirty looks for that question but Danny just gave him a friendly smile.

"in a word, yes. It was excruciating. I was electrocuted for a half a minute. On top of that I had accidentally started the charge to the portal shell while being inside. This caused an outside substance called ectoplasm to enter my DNA sequence permanently changing it"

"ectoplasm" Batman muttered.

"in simpler terms, I'm half ghost."

"That's not possible! You would have to be half dead to be-" Flashs words were silenced with a swift smack to the back of the head by wonder women.

"Yes, I am technically half dead. I had to battle these ghost entities for a while to make sure they didn't wreck havoc in the small town o grew up in."

"Forgive me, but of that's true why aren't you there now"

Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous of their soon to be reactions.

"After I was forced to defeat the current ghost king and put him back onto the sarcophagus of forever sleep, the title became mine. I gained respect and control over the ghosts who were causing trouble amd was able to make them stop"

"Your a king" Batman stated.

"i don't refer to myself as such, on truth many ghosts helped imprison the old king, I received the title on a technicality."

He looked down at his hands.

"after the peace had settled in I had begun to feel as though a part of me was missing so I took up the career I have currently."

He smiled at them sweetly as he explained.

"My battle instincts help me when I'm in a crisis situation with a critical patient. With my powers I can calm them and safely restrain them if need be. As you saw today I can also better treat meta humans and alien races with these abilities as well"

"you went from being a hero to being a doctor, that's commendable"

Danny shook his head.

"Not really. I'm doing a selfless thing for selfish reasons"

The league smiled upon him. From then on he was world renowned for his worldly expertise and protected.

Should I make this into a whole fanfiction or not? Because I want to go into more detail but I want to know what you all think first.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #danny stuff #Superman #kryptonite #scientists #maddie fenton #jack fenton #flash #dpxdc

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ayaboba · 4 months

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I GUESS IT WAS UNAVOIDABLE

summary: turns out you got a cold - not to worry, your boyfriend is here!

characters: alhaitham, diluc, kazuha, wanderer.

notes: new year, new theme. wc: 1.2k total, gn! reader, petnames, angsty in diluc but it fades into fluff, thought i was real funny in wanderer’s, you’re sick.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

alhaitham

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You shoot him a stern look alongside your words, taking a generous sip of the warm honey water swirling in your favourite mug. Its comforting warmth immediately eases the sharp pain in your throat down to a low throb, as its aftertaste proves sweeter than the concoction yesterday night.

Alhaitham assesses you from the foot of your shared bed, his face a mixture of contemplative, exasperated, and amused. How rare, your predicament must be concerning enough to expand Alhaitham's devastatingly frugal palette of emotions. What an honour.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mutters, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s up to your interpretation of how I look at you, actually.”

Despite his sharp tongue and the knowledge that he’s pickpocketed this debate, leaving you nothing but suffocating gloom, the anxious face staring upon yours shows nothing but genuine worry.

“Your fever is easing,” Alhaitham notes, his voice trailing off as he watches your body shake from a particularly violent cough. “Although, I strongly suggest that you go back to sleep.”

If the cold hadn’t snatched your usual, more energised self, leaving this crippling state equivalent to lying on your deathbed (it really wasn't), then you wouldn’t have second’s hesitation in replying with a sharp response contrasting whatever Alhaitham just said.

But right now, with the decorative array of warm lights illuminating the room, it casts a spell on your tired senses as the slow song of sleep cradles you away.

diluc

No amount of your most persuasive chants is able to coax that stupid idea away from him.

Dawn Winery was one of the many sponsors for Monstadt’s annual winter markets, an exquisite yearly event composing of streets after streets lined with cosy stalls lit with soft fairy lights, late nights sprinkled with the frosty taste of freshly fallen snow as everyone stayed up as late as the moon’s guidance, laughter and cheer dancing through the night.

Wasn’t it only obvious that the stall’s demand was going to skyrocket?

Wasn’t it obvious that you would think of assisting, even if it led to seeing the cracks of dawn?

That’s what you argued earlier, about twenty minutes ago, as if you were more concerned with his rationality than your spiralling fatigue. Which, to be frank, you were.

His hand was intertwined with yours, desperately tight, strong like the gaze falling from those eyes, rimmed with the reasoning for empty tissue boxes. Those hands were squeezing an ailment into the emptiness of your veins, leaving his desolate. And that’s when you snapped. How could he give it his all if he gave it all away?

Even when you cried, even when you yelled, even when you were on the verge of giving up, Diluc never once faltered; he adapted each time to defy what gnawed you, and perhaps he will go with these silent battles to win the golden hope restorative for you both.

Midnight. That same hand clambers up, searching for yours, finally finding it and squeezing it once, for you. Only this time you squeeze it back, twice.

kazuha

Those lacy curtains awaken a myriad of joyous senses, the strengthening sunshine warmly caressing the surface of your skin, leaving a glistening glow, while the tickling breeze drifts away the last of your drowsiness through the window.

What a beautiful day, you notice as you stretch the aching muscles in your neck and shoulders. The simple sight of sunshine releases a blossoming feeling of positivity that is likely going to be engraved into the roots of your day.

As you finish up with the basic stretches and shuffle on to tackle your shared bed, taking the covers in hand and connecting them to their respective corners, something on your bedside table catches your eye.

You were mere thoughts away from the impending decision to investigate, and this part you’d like to blame Kazuha for his chosen timing to start prepping breakfast.

Not just any typical breakfast, you might add. Your favourite.

It’s instantly recognisable from the first delicate wafts seeping into the bedroom. And it’s not exactly an exaggeration when you admit that your body and mind halted. Completely ceased, flabbergasted personified.

That peculiar guest on your nightstand was all forgotten the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a particular poet smiles over as you take a seat opposite the counter.

“Feeling better? I left the last of your cough medication on your bedside table so you’d remember to take it.”

He passes the plate, the masterpiece of the morning by far, almost too perfect to eat.. but then it all comes flooding in. Starting off with a few waves in the form of muffled words, and then the tsunami hits, the biggest wave, the recollection of memories.

"Ah..." is all you reply with.

Kazuha lets out a good-natured chuckle, subtly surveying you as he does. “Well, it doesn’t look like you need it, anyway.”

wanderer

One of the most eminent traits about your boyfriend was his determination—no, stubbornness—when it came to things that really shouldn’t concern him, especially if they sincerely nettled him so much. So simple that it confounded you why it never occurred to him to try and mind his own business for once. You frequently muttered under your breath how his behaviour reminded you of some toxic grandma living down the street.

Additionally, he should consider that you’re a human. A human who experienced things every other human did, for example, colds. Inevitable and terrible, but everyone had them.

Therefore, he shouldn’t treat it too seriously.

Yet here he is, sleeping in the same bed, under the same covers, just a ghost of a touch away. Promptly declining your polite request that he should spend the night in the spare bedroom as you felt particularly sniffly and probably needed a tissue permanently attached to your nose for the night.

Sleep was playing an eternal game of tag, teasing you. You don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. You’ve finished many seasons of your delusional scenarios and are now left bare of anything to entertain until dreams pulled you into its whirlpools.

The rims of your eyes water as you attempt to hold in that itching cough, blinking the tears back, but it felt like a million deluxe feathers each performing acrobatics in your throat.

“You should probably let out that cough. You’re starting to look like you’re having a breakdown.”

With more strength than anticipated, you snap to face him, but not after letting out that wheezing cough that more or less rearranges your skeletal structure. His pretty face nodding sombrely into yours.

“I’m fine,” you burst.

“And I’m the Dendro Archon,” he acknowledged, passing you a tissue. “Have you not slept at all?”

“It’s playing a game of tag,” you sniff, with a tone that conveyed, you’re not going to get it.

“Just run faster,” he recommended, pulling you into his chest before you even have the chance to process what he just said.

#genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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marybrownnaturals · 2 years

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choupicosmeticbeauty · 11 months

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mydigitalstore7 · 2 years

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sxnktaalxna · 5 months

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Threads

Azriel X Acheron Sister (Female OC/Reader)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

If Feyre was the hunter, then she was the carer. Where Feyre's hands became painted in crimson, marred by calluses and burden of survival, (Y/N)'s were gentle on skin, clearing the dirt from cuts and bruises that gave her and her family life.

When the family lost their fortune and left Feyre dragging her family towards tomorrow, she'd felt abandoned. The weight felt like a rope wrapping itself around her hands, cutting into her palms. As much as she loved her family, she didn't know how much longer she could continue risking her life each day to come home with a meager meal and an ungrateful audience. Until she found her dear younger sister, still fresh faced as the morning dew on grass, outside in the rays of fresh sunrise cutting apart the firewood Nesta was meant to the night before.

Feyre felt her guilt rise each day she saw her younger sister's hands grow more and more like hers, but her guilt was put to rest when (Y/N) would gently reach over and interlace their fingers. No matter how hard her skin became, her touch remained as soft as her soul. Her spirit had not been broken despite all this, and Feyre owed it to her to not break either.

(Y/N) loathed seeing her sisters in pain. And especially Feyre, but she knew her sister would drag her own corpse out that wooden door than let her family starve. And each night she came home, (Y/N) felt her heart beat again to see her sister safe.

So the day she saw her sister leave to take care of a sick aunt she'd never heard of, (Y/N) felt a piece of her heart leave with her. She'd wondered each day if Feyre was well, if she had found the time to paint like she used to. If Feyre was grateful to have reprieve from her family. But now, with her father's wealth restored and a full belly each night, for the first time since she was a child, (Y/N) felt content. Her beloved sisters were happy, her father thriving and Feyre off to see the world and, she hoped, pursuing the talent that she had. Although they got their estate back - one she found Nesta and Elain to be particularly pleased about - she couldn't help but miss the days when they would huddle around a small fire, Feyre by her side.

(Y/N) had taken the longest to adjust to their fortune. Too young to begin proper learning, she had to learn from her sisters. It was a struggle, learning to read and write at her age. And too used to hand me downs and holes, the softest silks and velvets on her skin felt foreign where Elain and Nesta felt at home. She wasn't ungrateful, but it felt wrong when she didn't know how Feyre was. She wondered if she hadn't heard from Feyre because she was busy, or perhaps her letters get lost too easily. But without a doubt, she knew her sister was ok.

'Miss (Y/N),' a gentle knock resounded from the door. (Y/N) looked up from her book at Mrs Laurent's voice - a children's book of pirates and faeries in a far away land. She had missed a part of her childhood, and she wanted to catch up as best she could. 'Your sisters request your presence in the drawing room.' Before she could ask, Mrs Laurent scurried away without another word.

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused at Mrs Laurent's skittish behaviour. Regardless, she made her way to the drawing room, where she heard her older sisters' voices, plus one more. A voice she hadn't heard in a year.

Pushing open the carved oak door, her eyes laid sight to a familiar stranger. No longer was she gaunt, with hollow cheekbones and bruised eyes. There she sat, healthy and glowing, and more beautiful than she ever remembered. As if from a painting made of a thousand paint strokes and the brightest shades of colour.

'Feyre,' she breathed, running into Feyre's already open arms. As pieces of a puzzle fit, the sisters embraced as one. Pulling apart, Feyre's fingers framed her sister's face. Her youth had begun to flee, as now stood before her was a woman, with intelligence in her eyes and a smile of the sun.

'My, you've grown up without me,' Feyre chuckled, tears blurring her vision like a hazy dream. But it wasn't a dream, and her sister was thriving and well.

(Y/N)'s eyes wandered her sister's face, with the longer she looked the more startled she became. At first she thought it was the lack of hunger, with Feyre no longer needing for food. But the longer she looked, the longer her mind grew confused. Her sister's beauty was beyond comprehension, and it was confirmed by the slight point of her ears. Her gaze flowed down to seek familiar sights and scars, only to find smooth, poreless skin amongst new, black markings crawling her arm.

Fae. The very thing her family warned her to fear. To hate. To hunt and despise for their cruelty and violence. Yet looking at her sister, she saw nothing but the winter nights Feyre would keep her warm and fed. The days when Feyre would give her an extra serving, even if it meant going hungry. All those memories, and yet...

'(Y/N),' Nesta's sharp voice rang, her fiery eyes piercing Feyre. 'Sit down.'

Elain moved a space over in the sofa, a cup of tea in her hand. (Y/N) looked at her sisters, inhaling before taking a seat next to Feyre. Nesta's eyes sharpened, nostrils flaring slightly as Elain glanced between her younger sisters. Feyre smiled, interlacing their fingers like they always did.

'I need you to listen.'

-☆-

'You wanted other High Fae to come...and...the Queens of the Realm'.

It was overwhelming, to find out her sister's disappearance was a lie. Of the struggles and pain she had gone through on her own. How she had been living in luxury while her sister had suffered - had died. Her grip on Feyre's fingers shook as her sisters argued.

'Find somewhere else.' Nesta demanded. 'I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain and (Y/N).'

'Nesta please,' Feyre pleaded. As Nesta fought back with Feyre, all (Y/N) could think about was Feyre's lifeless body, abandoned and forgotten by her family living in the warmth and comfort Feyre fought for each day in the woods. How each time Nesta and Elain would demand more and more from her, and how (Y/N) did nothing.

When Feyre had left, Nesta and Elain did their best to care for her - in their own ways. Elain, undeniably the more affectionate, would often sit with (Y/N) as she did her embroidery. She would often chat away about her new fiance, about the garden she had been tending to. But questions about (Y/N) fell short when looking at her younger sister. Nesta was more difficult to read. Often she'd been berated by her older sister during lessons, expecting her to reach their own levels of intellect in barely a fraction of the time they were given. But she found moments of care, when she woke up in the library with a blanket and her book marked where she had fallen asleep the night before.

She loved her sisters. She adored them all for caring over her for her entire life. But Feyre was unlike a sister. She was a mother, a carer, a saviour, her hope in life. Her dearest friend. And she would not leave Feyre hanging on her own any longer.

'We'll help.' All three sisters turned to her, her first words taking them all by surprise. 'We will help, because we didn't before. We abandoned you, I will not abandon you again.'

Feyre's eyes widened. Her baby sister, no longer a shy doe but a mighty deer, standing on her feet with her head held high. Nesta grit her teeth at her younger sister's sudden defiance, as Elain slowly nodded in shy agreement.

'We keep it a secret - we send the servants away.' Elain agreed, twisting her hands in her lap. 'No one will know'.

More words were exchanged, but (Y/N) paid no mind as she sipped her scalding tea. It burned her tongue and throat, but it kept her thoughts away from her guilt. Perhaps this was a mistake to invite more fae into their family home. Perhaps she'll find herself bewitched and dragged into Prythian for her weakness and naivety. But if asked, she would put her life in the palm of Feyre's hands without a second thought.

Once Elain left to shoo away the staff, and Nesta left to likely get away from Feyre, she turned to look at her sister.

'You're so beautiful now,' Feyre sighed, brushing her sister's hair behind her ears as if not a single day had passed. 'Have you been well?'

'I'm alright, but you...We hadn't heard from you in so long...'

'Please,' Feyre interrupted, seeing her sister's sadness and fear in her eyes. No matter how long it's been, she could always read her sister. 'I'm glad you're safe. We have a lot to catch up on.'

-☆-

Once the last carriage of servants disappeared into the night, Feyre's three guests arrived. They were large - both that they occupied so much space, but their auras seemed to permeate through every room of the house. Large wings attempting - poorly - to hide their true size weapons on their waists. Her sisters seemed to suffocate on their sheer authority, Nesta shielding Elain behind her as Feyre brought them closer.

'My sisters, Nesta, Elain and (Y/N) Acheron', the three companions seemed to light up at the last name, a name they heard fall out of Feyre's mouth in moments of trust and fondness. A name that Rhysand knew brought uncapped love and joy to Feyre.

'Cassian', Feyre nodded to the large figure on her left, to the Fae with golden brown skin, hazel eyes and black shoulder length hair. He was the tallest of the three, who nodded at his introduction.

'Azriel', Feyre turned to her right, to a man with similar features - hazel eyes and golden brown skin - but with shorter hair. (Y/N) couldn't help but linger her eyes. He was undeniably the most attractive man she'd ever seen. But it was impolite to stare, so she looked away when hazel greeted her sight.

'And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court'.

The man with hair that shone with blue-black shades of the midnight sky, and violet eyes as vibrant as Nesta's amethyst necklace stepped forward with a smile and bowed, 'Thank you for your hospitality - and generosity'.

All three were undeniably beautiful beings, all with power and strength she had never seen or felt in her life. Their beauty felt surreal, too perfect and attractive that made even the extravagant Acheron estate looked dull. And Feyre fit right into their company. She stood where she belonged. She smiled at all three, curtseying as her sisters remained stiff at her side.

'The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold.' Nesta said be striding away towards her seat at the table.

'Nice to meet you,' Elain said, her voice caught in her throat as she followed after Nesta.

Feyre and her companions glanced at each other, sharing looks about the obvious tension choking the air. (Y/N) glided across to her sister's companions. Closer, they were far more imposing than she could have ever imagined, with her having to crane her neck to meet their gaze. A faint metallic scent drifted into her nose, sharp and unwelcome. Likely the magic that seeped out of their pores.

'Thank you for coming, and for taking care of my sister,' She said, stretching her hand out. If they noticed her shaking, they paid no mind as Rhysand shook her hand gently with a smile.

'It's been a pleasure,' Rhysand replied, 'Your sister has been a welcome company in my court.'

Politely, (Y/N) smiled once again before gesturing to the table, 'Please.'

Her gentle smile met Azriel's gaze, who couldn't help but watch the youngest Acheron as she took her seat next to Elain - who appeared more than happy to be sat next to her and not one of Feyre's companions. Despite her sister, Elain remained stiff when Azriel took his seat next to (Y/N). Slowly, (Y/N) slipped her hand in Elain's shaky hand.

The dinner had been a silent, uncomfortable affair. (Y/N) picked at her food, having lost her appetite from the stiff air in the room. She saw Feyre struggling to eat, and wondered if that was from the awkwardness or from being Fae. She had many questions - how different was her sister? How had she changed? How much of her Feyre was still there? It was easy to get lost in her assumptions of Fae, but for Feyre, she'd be more than happy to try.

Coughing slightly to clear the anxiety from her throat, she turned to her seat neighbour.

'Your wings are beautiful,' She said, gazing at the large expanse of leather and bone. Similar to the bats she'd seen glding through the stars, his were shows of strength and beauty. Elain and Nesta stared at their younger sister - wide-eyed and fiery, respectively.

Azriel set down his fork, turning slightly to meet (Y/N)'s curious gaze. 'Thank you. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind.'

'The song of the wind?' (Y/N) asked. Undeniably she'd never heard of such a thing, but it sounded beautiful. Sounded unlike this world. To imagine herself so intuned into nature the way faeries seemed... 'It must be exciting, seeing new places and being able to touch the clouds.'

'It can be very exciting,' Azriel agreed, nodding. A gentle curve appeared on his lips as he gently added, 'Clouds feel like the softest of feathers.'

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that thought.

'You look like High Fae,' Nesta cut, her tone as sharp as the knife in her hand. 'But you are not one?'

'Nesta...' (Y/N) sighed, knowing her sister would not stop.

'Only the High Faes look like them,' Cassian replied, a finger pointed towards Feyre and Rhysand, 'are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries.'

'So only Illyrians have wings?' (Y/N) turned to Azriel once more.

'There are Fae that can be born with wings, but my people are the most common in my court to possess them.'

'And your court...is it always night if it's the Night Court?' (Y/N) felt more curious than shame to ask these questions. How can one not be curious when the world continues to grow in front of her eyes?

'We do have a day and night, just as other courts do. But our nights are the most beautiful in Prythian that you'll ever see.' Azriel replied. He paused silently, before adding, 'Perhaps you'll get the chance to see them some day.'

The more she learned of the magical land up north, the more she realised how much she didn't know. And the more she questioned how true her people's tales of Fae were. If they barely knew of the Fae, how can they decide that they were all barbaric? That they were merciless killers? Perhaps they'd been like Feyre - hunters of survival. Or perhaps the stories began as bedtime tales, told to children to keep them away from the woods at night.

Her heart had pulled towards her sister, and her head and family have been telling her to run. But now as she was sat next to this gentle giant, sharing tales and questions, how could she know what to believe? Was this the trick of fae? Preying on curiosity to lure humans in? Her head began to dizzy as questions bounced around to the beat of her pounding heart.

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acheron

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itsswritten · 2 months

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when the sea calls for three | 2

Pairings: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Words: 5.1K

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Summer Court

As the gentle sea breeze caressed your face, the soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore enveloped your senses. With eyes closed, you allowed yourself to be immersed in the tranquillity of the ocean, feeling a sense of home wash over you.

You missed the ocean, Dawn’s cities weren’t on the coast. Mainly inland, with dense red roofed buildings. Often you would take trips to visit the shoreline, get closer to that salty air that spoke sweet whispers to you. You wondered why your family hadn’t chosen Summer over Dawn, given your heritage. No, instead your family had settled hundreds of years ago within the walls of Dawn. Still, a beautiful choice.

Suddenly, a presence appeared beside you, you could sense and smell him without needing to open your eyes. Perhaps it was the way he smelt of the ocean too that made him so familiar. Tarquin stood beside you, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the sparkling sea. His dark skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his hair, a striking silver-white, caught the light as it cascaded around his shoulders.

"I thought I could sense it, you are a child of the sea," Tarquin remarked, a warm smile gracing his features as he finally acknowledged something he had sensed in your earlier meeting.

"That is somewhat true," you mused, gaze still fixed on the vast expanse of ocean before you. Your kinship with the sea was a connection that ran deep.

"It explains why I felt so comfortable around you," Tarquin continued, his smile widening as he spoke. You knew of his abilities, his affinity for water manipulation.

“Like calls to like” You smiled softly.

You liked the Summer Court. You had made that assumption when you first met Tarquin, and it rang true during your first visit. Adriata exuded a serene beauty, even in the aftermath of conflict. The azure rooftops contrasted elegantly against the pristine white stone, glistening like pearls under the sun's warm embrace.The air was fresh with the lick of the ocean, and its residents were all sun kissed by that glorious beacon in the sky.

Eager to immerse yourself fully in the Summer Court ambiance, you had opted for a slight change of attire, trading your previous garments from the Court meeting for something light, airy, typical of the Summer Court. Your tunic which had been adorned with threaded court symbols was now replaced with a white shirt that still held the motifs on the fabric. Flowing white trousers gracefully pooled around your feet, allowing the gentle sea breeze to caress your skin, providing a welcome respite from the sun's rays.

Tarquin had graciously arranged for your accommodation within the palace, situating your quarters conveniently close to Cressida, with whom you had been working closely with during your brief stay. Together with Tarquin and the royal siblings, you convened in a secluded office to address the concerns voiced by the Summer Court's inhabitants.

The submitted requests predominantly revolved around the loss of homes, the devastation caused by the war, and the collective hope for recovery and resilience. Pooling your collective knowledge and resources, the four of you meticulously strategize the most effective measures to support and uplift the people of the Summer.

However, you understood that true healing would require patience and perseverance. Perhaps what the people of Prythian needed most was to feel heard and understood on a larger scale, with you and Lucien as their appointed emissaries serving as their advocates.

Spending the majority of the second day immersing yourself in the community of Adriata, you couldn't ignore the overall feeling of sadness. The lingering scars of war still cast a shadow over the court, underscoring the urgent need to rebuild and restore a sense of security and happiness among its residents.

Despite their resilience, Adriata seemed to have borne the brunt of the conflict, second perhaps only to the turmoil in Tamlin's court. You were determined to offer whatever assistance you could, recognising the challenges they faced in comparison to other courts.

Your efforts to connect with the townspeople were met with initial hesitation, yet you sensed a glimmer of kinship, perhaps they could tell you were one of the same like Tarquin recognised. It only took a few hours before you had residents crying on your shoulder and children running around your feet, tugging you left and right begging for you to prioritise rebuilding a park that had been destroyed.

The weight of your role as emissary of peace became increasingly apparent. You weren’t just an Emissary of peace, but you were the emissary of the people– something that felt heavier in weight. A weight you were happy to shoulder.

You could feel it in your chest, that pride that seemed to swell at your newfound duty. Realising how you could make an impact.

And so you promised to yourself, and silently towards the vast ocean that you would always listen to those who sought out your help.

"Your people seem somewhat deflated," you observed, your voice carrying a touch of empathy as you turned your gaze back to Tarquin. "Your court, your palace, your people... they've endured so much loss."

Tarquin nodded solemnly, "Yes, the scars of war run deep," he agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for hope. "But we are resilient, and with the support of the likes of you, I believe we can rebuild and thrive once more."

You offered him a reassuring smile, your confidence bolstered. "It's a priority to restore not just the physical aspects of your court, but also the spirit of your people," you affirmed, your voice brimming with conviction. "To ensure they not only feel safe but also find happiness in their home once again."

You understood the importance of nurturing the well-being of those under your care, of bringing light to the darkest corners and hope to weary hearts. "...With our collective efforts, I have no doubt that we can return Summer to all its glory," you declared, your words infused with determination.

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your lips. Every word you spoke you truly believed.

Tarquin's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a flicker of admiration dancing in his gaze. "Your optimism is contagious," he remarked, a hint of appreciation colouring his tone. "It's refreshing to have someone like you by my side, someone who sees the potential for greatness even in our darkest moments."

“A flame will always appear brighter in the shadows…” you mused.

With that, the two of you exchanged a meaningful look, a silent vow passing between you.

༄

Night Court

You arrived at River House promptly, noting the late morning meeting time with an understanding that it was typical for the Night Court. Unlike the bustling activity you were accustomed to at Dawn, Velaris seemed eerily quiet during those early hours. You had always risen with the sun, risen at dawn. It seemed your body clock may have to change during your visits here. As you prowled through the streets, hoping to connect with some of its residents, you found them few and far between. A handful of market owners setting up stalls offered brief introductions, but for the most part, the city felt deserted, as if it were a ghost town.

Welcomed into the grand foyer by a member of staff, you waited calmly, your gaze sweeping over the opulent surroundings. Your eyes lingered on the large circular table at the centre of the room, with a large display of flowers in the middle. You gently leaned forward, eyes closing as you inhaled the sweet scent before taking in the rest of the room. The twin curved staircases that ascended gracefully upwards, adorned with paintings of the inner circle on the walls.

Cute. You mused.

You knew of Feyre’s affinity for art and painting, Lucien had filled you in and you’d done your own research too. You would not be coming into this setting blind.

Your eyes drifted over the portraits of Rhys and Feyre's family, each figure rendered in exquisite detail. Among them, your gaze settled on an image that felt oddly familiar, it was your pen pal. But as you gazed at the details it felt as though you were looking at someone you knew well, there was a simmering beneath your skin.

Why did he feel so familiar?

Captured with remarkable precision by Feyre's skilled hand, his hazel eyes bore into you from beneath the layers of paint. Their intensity, almost unnerving yet strangely captivating.

Why were you so drawn to him?

Multiple footsteps echoed through the marble floors, prompting you to delicately brush down your tunic, ensuring it lay perfectly to display the intricate symbols of the courts. The tunic was one of the same from the previous meeting, but instead of silver being the base you had commissioned another version. A dark charcoal, a nod to the night court. And you have to say the designs really did pop against the smoky backdrop.

As Rhysand and Feyre entered the foyer, their presence commanded attention, followed closely by three more figures. Among them, you recognised Azriel instantly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours.

It was the second time today that his eyes had ensnared your attention.

Cassian and Nesta followed suit, their identities obvious from Lucien's descriptions.

Azriel took you in, digesting your new look. One he couldn’t deny he liked. He enjoyed seeing you in Night Court colours– his colours.

“Welcome, y/n,” Feyre greeted with a warm smile.

"Your home is beautiful. Thank you for letting me stay here," you replied graciously, returning her smile.

A shadowy fae had swiftly taken your bags moments ago, her disappearing in silence with your belongings. You assumed she was taking them to your room.

“I just thought with us working so closely together, you being close made more sense,” Feyre explained. Despite the weight of this new chapter bearing down on the entire court, Feyre had decided to spearhead this herself. She was taking the lead, determined to prove her worth as High Lady to her people and all of Prythian.

Feyre then proceeded to introduce Cassian and Nesta. You nodded at them with a polite smile, “And of course you already know Azriel” Feyre spoke.

“Hmm I do” you hummed gently on your lips, the words rolling off in a quiet melody that seemed to make Azriel’s shadows vibrate. If you hadn’t been so enraptured by his gaze you might have noticed the smirks playing on Rhy’s and Cassian’s lips as they glanced over at the exchange.

One of Azriel’s shadows had found itself under your flowing trousers, swirling around your ankle like a gentle breeze. You wondered if Azriel knew of how fond his little minions were of you.

How they often stayed longer than necessary between correspondences, how they liked to play with your hair or how they would always dance when you hummed. Leaving them reluctant to ever leave.

You wondered if they had told him that, you also wondered what he told them.

The Inner Circle graciously showed you around the River House, leading you to the room where you would be staying during your visits. Your belongings for your short trip, already unpacked and hung in the wardrobe.

Finally, you all congregated in a large office that had been designated for your use during your visits. The office was spacious, with a large table dominating the centre of the room. You settled into a seat, surrounded by the others, who were all ready to assist you in your duties.

As part of your new role, you and Lucien had initiated a proposition allowing people from across Prythian to submit their concerns, feelings, and issues. You had worked through Summer’s submissions during your visit, as Lucien was also doing with the courts under his care. Rhys conjured multiple stacks of pages onto the table with a simple click of his finger, each page representing a submission from individuals within the Night Court.

There had to be thousands. Thank the stars Feyre had enlisted the help of her inner circle, otherwise you’re not sure the both of you would have made it through them all in one day.

You couldn't help but widen your eyes at the sight, the sheer volume of submissions taking you by surprise. Tarquin's court had been demanding, but the Night Court's submissions seemed to dwarf them in comparison.

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a glance, a hint of embarrassment colouring their expressions.

You could hear their concerns in the pauses of their breaths– Had they not been effectively managing their court? Were their people dissatisfied?

Feyre looked disheartened.

"This is a general submission, covering various concerns about the peace treaty, border movements, and trade agreements," you explained gently, seeking to alleviate any tension in the room. "It's commendable that your people feel comfortable expressing their feelings. We can't address issues if people choose to remain silent."

Feyre visibly relaxed at your words, and with that, the six of you began the arduous task of sorting through the requests, categorising them based on their content.

You’re not sure how much time had passed before light conversation spread across the room. Cassian huffing and puffing at how quickly everyone else was reading through requests, while he’d only made it through three.

Azriel was opposite you, flicking through the documents meticulously. Every now and then his gaze lingering on you before moving back to the task at hand. His shadows silently helping, by moving pages to their correct piles.

You wanted his shadows to help you. You knew if you’d asked them, they’d happily oblige. They were quite forthcoming during your correspondences, but you kept your mouth sealed and worked through the pages alone.

There had been an underlying theme to the Night Court’s residents' concerns. Similar to how Summer collectively were worried about the physical rebuilding of their home, the Night Court had their own collective issue.

They didn’t want the borders to open. They didn’t want to share Velaris.

You’re not particularly surprised, Velaris had been a secret city for years. It’s inhabitants were concerned for their safety, but of course it had also bred a rhetoric of exclusivity. They didn’t want ‘outsiders’ in their home.

Feyre seemed to become more and more uncomfortable as the pile regarding border restrictions continued to grow. You could tell Rhys was trying to comfort her, most likely through that magical mating bond– but he was failing.

“They’re pushing back Rhys…” The words left Feyre’s lips sadly. Despite how progressive Rhysand and Feyre wanted to be in this new chapter, that didn’t mean their people felt the same.

Velaris, Hewn City, the Ilyarians. Everything was so segregated, you weren’t surprised in the slightest that this type of mentality had grown.

“People are scared of what they don’t know..” You glanced up to Feyre, who was looking at you now. As were all the members of the table.

“The people of Velaris won’t be the only ones who may have reservations” You continued, laying the paper in your hand back onto the table.

“So did Tarquins people also feel this way?” Feyre asked, you could hear the desperation in her words.

Please tell me it’s not just my people who are being this hostile.

You tilted your head slightly, your lips forming a tight line. “Every court will differ in their issues… Summer’s concerns were not the same as yours.”

You knew that wasn’t what Feyre wanted to hear, her mate pulled her gently into him to press a reassuring kiss on her temple. Rhys pulled away, his expression turning serious as he narrowed his gaze on you.

“What are we doing wrong?” he asked, the weight of his question palpable in the room. The High Lord was essentially asking you where he and his family were failing. It wasn’t an easy question to address, but it seemed he wanted constructive criticism.

You rolled your shoulders back as you measured the tension in the room. Sometimes criticism could be hard to digest. Intertwining your fingers you placed your hands on the table in front of you.

“I appreciate you’ve done what you had to in order to protect your court,” you began cautiously, feeling the burning stares of all five of them on you.

But you wouldn’t let them deter you. This was a part of your job.

You continued, “But I believe there are some detrimental damages that have occurred because of it.”

You felt Nesta fold her arms beside you, and noticed how Cassian fidgeted in his seat. They were not enjoying this.

“Your people are segregated,” you said, stating the uncomfortable truth. “If you are deemed worthy enough, you can live in Velaris. If not, you are trapped in Hewn.” you emphasised this by bringing one hand to the left and your other to the right, as if metaphorically representing the two cities you mentioned.

"But that’s not how it is,” Cassian interjected, his tone defensive.

You continued, unwavering. “And then the Illyrians get the freezing mountains? You must be able to see what it looks like, you must be able to understand how it may feel to be a citizen of Hewn or an Illyrian, and look at Velaris wondering why you are not able to be a part of this.”

“Perhaps even feel you are not worthy enough to be part of this. It not only breeds an elitist mindset for the citizens of Velaris but the resentment the inhabitants Hewn city harbour must be tenfold”

Cassian's demeanour shifted, growing more defensive. “You don’t understand, that’s how it has always been. Everything we’ve done, the sacrifices we’ve made were all for the greater good.”

“Every court, every person has had to make sacrifices. Let’s not sit here and start tallying, as you will be quickly humbled to realise it is not the Night Court that has lost the most,” you countered, feeling the tension in the room rise. “Nor shall sacrifice be used as a just excuse when something is not right.”

Azriel gave Cassian a subtle look, urging him to calm down.

Taking a breath, you spoke softer this time “I’m not here to judge, we can’t change what has happened. But I won’t mince my words. The way this court has existed has allowed only a certain group to prosper, and that is a problem.”

"Feyre, if you truly wish for humans to live in your court in harmony with Fae, if you want your borders to open and those who wish to travel and move freely, then things will have to change," you emphasised, your tone earnest yet firm. "If the Fae of this land can't already coexist among each other, then I don't know how opening borders or integrating humans will even be feasible."

Feyre's eyes met yours, a flicker of realisation crossing her features as she absorbed your words. It was clear that your statement had struck a chord with her.

“Then what do you propose we do, Miss Emissary of Peace?” Azriel’s question hung heavy in the air, his eyes searching yours for a solution. But it felt like a challenge.

While Cassian’s opposition had been obvious, Azriel, ever the Spymaster, had been quiet in his disagreement. He equally hadn’t been fond of the way you challenged his High Lord and Lady’s reign, but he wanted to test you. See if that sharp wit he had encountered in your correspondence could actually follow through to something more than words.

You paused, feeling the weight of Azriel's gaze on you.

Then you turned to the head of the table “Your son,” Feyre paused, a flicker of concern crossing her face at the mention of her child. “He is of studying age?”

Feyre nodded, Rhys giving you a scrutinising look. “He has tutors, yes.”

You looked at the Shadowsinger again, your eyes narrowing as your lips quipped at the edges. You would pass his test.

“I propose a school. A school for the children of Velaris, the children of Hewn,” you said, casting a meaningful glance at Cassian, “and the Illyrian children.”

At once, objections erupted around the table. Voices clamoured, expressing doubts about Illyrian participation and concerns over mingling different communities. How only High Fae had ever been the ones to have access to education, and that other groups would most likely not even care. But your focus remained on Feyre, sensing a glimmer of interest in her eyes.

“I know how stubborn people can be, how set in their ways they become over time,” you continued, addressing the room. “So we start with the children. We show them how positive change can be. Myself and Lucein both agreed adopting a human education system would be really beneficial here in Prythian. Your court is currently the only one with the means and resources.”

Despite the protests of those around the table, Feyre remained locked on your words so you continued. Knowing exactly what you needed to say to win her favour.

“I believe every child has a right to learn, to read and write, and a chance at an education. A place they can go to where they are safe, where they will be heard. A place where they can make friends, and…I guess after all this suffering and loss, shouldn’t we give all children an opportunity to just be kids?”

The room was silent now, Rhys tilted his head with a small smirk while Feyre beside him leaned forward. Cassian had gone silent too, your words silencing any oppositions he may have had. Even Nesta seemed to be reflecting on your proposition.

It was Azriel who offered you a gentle smile, all though his gaze was still dark. You had passed then. His silent test.

“A school for all children, it would be the first of its kind in all of Prythian.” Feyre beamed, looking at her mate with a glowing expression. “And maybe we could eventually welcome the humans too…and anyone else who wanted to join.”

You nodded in agreement, your vision now becoming a shared dream with the High Lady.

“I love it,” Feyre sang, her enthusiasm contagious. “But the guys are right, the people won’t agree.”

Rhys leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps,” he began, his voice measured, “but we can't afford to let fear and resistance dictate our actions. This is about shaping the future of our court, for all of Prythian. Fostering unity, and breaking down barriers that have long divided us.”

As chatter filled the room, you felt any lingering tension roll off your shoulders. Another successful decision was made, one that would undoubtedly surprise Lucien when he heard about it. You had gotten the Night Court to agree to opening a school on your first day, a proposal that had originally been a part of a five year plan.

Oh, the satisfaction of being able to gloat about this when you next saw Lucie.

Feyre excitedly began to discuss curriculum, subjects that would appeal to all communities. Of course she was quick to advocate that Art classes had to be a priority, and Cassian had joined in, declaring if the Ilyarins were to ever let their children attend school some kind of defensive fighting class would have to exist. Nesta was surprisingly quick to suggest Literature, the mention of the subject blazing something alight in her eyes.

“Do you always get what you want?” Azirel asked smoothly, his question going unnoticed by his busy family.

You smirked, your gaze softening on him “Always.”

༄

You don’t belong here.

The ocean doesn’t want you, we don’t want you.

Sharp talons were clawing at your skin, dragging you down to the oceans floor.

Drown, half breed. Why won’t you drown.

Dirty blood.

There’s no home for you here.

You awaken abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of fear lingering like a ghost. Gasping for air, you instinctively clutch at your throat, as if the claws of your nightmares still linger there.

Ready to drag you back down to the dark void of the oceans bed.

But it wasn’t real.

No, it had been real once though. Now a distant memory.

You lay there, trying to steady your breathing. It had been years since that particular nightmare plagued your sleep. It had haunted your younger years, a relentless spectre that would always find a way to creep into your dreams.

But with time, with age, you had managed to push it aside, burying it deep within the recesses of your mind.

Yet, tonight it had resurfaced with a vengeance. Perhaps it was the discussion of differences earlier in the day that had dredged up those buried fears. The submissions filled with divisive words like ‘other’, ‘outsiders’ and ‘them’ had struck a nerve, tapping into the lingering insecurities you were sure you’d grown out of.

But being 'other' was something you had become accustomed to. It was a label you had carried with you your entire life, never quite fitting in there, never fitting in here. Always straddling the line between worlds.

The land and the ocean.

You take a moment to steal a glance towards the window, greeted by the sight of the night sky, its darkness punctuated only by the twinkling stars and the soft glow of the moon. It was still night. Yet, you were wide awake. And knowing your hosts as late risers, you had a lot of time to kill.

With a sigh, you slip out of the large bed and reach for a robe hanging by the washroom. Its smooth black silk drapes elegantly around you, not wanting to leave the room in merely a night gown. Although you doubted anyone would be awake at this hour.

The need for fresh air beckons, guiding your steps towards the balcony that adjoins the living room you had explored earlier. As you step outside, a gentle breeze caresses your skin. Taking a seat in the plush couch, you find yourself mesmerised by the panoramic view of Velaris before you. The city sprawls out in all its glory, its enchanting beauty captivating even in the darkness of night.

Before you even have a chance to fully immerse yourself in the moment, a cup and pot of tea materialise in front of you, seemingly conjured by the magic of the manor. With a grateful smile, you pour yourself a cup of the steaming liquid, relishing in its comforting warmth.

It's only a matter of moments before you sensed his presence. You instinctively knew it was him. His shadows singing a whisper that you don’t even think he had been able to hear.

"You going to lurk there all night?" you tease with a playful smile, but you don’t turn to him. Your eyes fixed on the city across the river, while you sip quietly on your drink.

Azriel, perhaps surprised that you noticed him, joins you sitting at your side. His expression is tired, his usually sharp features softened by weariness. You wonder if he, too, wrestles with his own nightmares and torments that keep him awake at night.

"I understand why you did it," you speak softly, gesturing towards the city below. "It's beautiful, worth protecting. I hope you all didn't feel attacked by my observations earlier."

Azriel offers a small, understanding smile. "You have quite a sharp tongue, but you spoke the truth."

You sat with his words for a while, silence filling the air while he poured himself a cup of tea once the house had conjured him a cup.

“You always had the intention of proposing a school didn’t you?” Azriel's inquiry was direct, his eyes probing for the truth.

“It’s something Lucien and I had discussed," you admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. "We believed this court would be the most suitable place. While I hadn’t planned on suggesting it today, the solution seemed fitting given the circumstances.” As you spoke, you realised Azriel was closer than you initially thought, his presence radiating warmth beside you that almost made you move in closer to share that heat.

“But ultimately, the plan is broader," you continued. "We envision schools across Prythian, freely accessible to those who wish to attend. Schools for the littlings, and perhaps even universities for those seeking higher education. It’s a long-term plan, but I believe it could be the perfect tie to connect all the courts."

Vassa had mentioned the existence of a university on the continent, catering to humans in their early adulthood or those seeking to resume their studies. Once you and Lucien had solidified your plan for schools across Prythian, it was Tamlin to whom you proposed the idea of a university. You sensed that his court needed a beacon of hope, something to strive for. Your suggestion had the desired effect, not that you ever had a doubt. But it was how you’d managed to pull Tamlin from his depressive state. Giving him a sense of purpose and direction.

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You really have it all planned out."

“Planning can only go so far though…” You paused, your thoughts drifting to the complexities of your role. It wasn’t all rainbows and schools. As if hearing your inner concerns, a cold, gentle caress brushed across your face – his shadows.

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, watching as his shadows acted autonomously, curling around your hair and kissing your cheek.

"Well, hello, little ones. Have you missed me?" you purred playfully, eliciting a soft vibration of excitement from the shadows as they continued to fuss over you.

A soft melodic laugh left your lips, that had them stirring again.

"They seem to like you," Azriel remarked, his voice tinged with slight disbelief as he watched the shadows' unexpected display of affection.

"What's not to like?" you teased, noticing Azriel's surprise at his shadows' behaviour. "We've grown quite friendly during our correspondences. I might even consider them my friends," you added with a smile, knowing your words would only amplify the shadows' playfulness.

Friend, friend, friend.

They seemed to chant in Azriel’s ear.

“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before…” He whispered, his hand gently reaching forward to you. You didn’t move as he pulled a shadow from your hair, his rough fingers gently grazing past your throat as he did. The small action eliciting goosebumps over your body.

For a brief moment, you could have lost yourself in that delicate interaction, but a realisation dawned upon you. What he had just said was a lie.

“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before”

Lie.

But why would he lie about that? Something so small and trivial.

You could hear it in the unspoken, under his words, what it actually revealed. There had been another.

But who?

Next part >>

a/n: ummm so what do we think? Sorry if the politics are a little boring, just trying to set the plot out! This will be a slow burn, but once it gets going we'll be off for a fab ride (I promise) Also for all my Eris lovers, he'll be coming up in the next part so do not worry - Lottie xx

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simbouquet · 13 days

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TS3: re:Cerberus – Default Replacement Eye Mesh & Textures

This is a little project I’ve been working on for the past month: a complete default replacement for the eye mesh and textures for Sims of all ages and genders. I realize it’s a bit niche and very specific to my personal taste, but I’m very happy to share it. 🙂

The name is a callback to an old piece of CC I made back in 2022, my first eye texture replacement, which I wound up disliking for a number of reasons and ultimately deleted from my blog.

More info and download under the cut!

Overview

I prefer for my Sims’ eyes to have smaller, more realistic looking irises. There are quite a few options out there, but I’ve never been 100% satisfied with how they looked.

On one hand, the vanilla EA eye mesh tends to stretch smaller eye textures, making them look slightly squared, and the occult eye glow creates an unsightly outline where the original texture would be.

On the other hand, aWT’s default replacement mesh does a good job at reducing the textures, but comes at the cost of sacrificing things like catchlights and occult eye effects. Buhudain does have a version of this mesh that restores them, but the catchlights can look a little wonky or jagged at times since the mesh wasn’t really intended to be used with them anyway.

Moreover, those defaults only had a LOD0, so in some cases where the game would use LOD1 in a few situations such as generating certain thumbnails, the vanilla EA eye mesh with massive irises would show up.

With all this in mind, I decided to try my hand at making my own version and ended up with a new mesh based on aWT’s eyes, which features the following:

A natural looking globe-like shape as opposed to a perfect sphere, which @justmiha97 helped me massively with. Though not 100% realistic, I do like the effect it gives and it doesn’t look weird or out of place.

Reduced iris size, pretty much the same as aWT’s mesh.

Slightly smaller catchlights, which I find pretty cute.

Available for all Sims, Toddler to Elder.

Includes LODs 0 and 1, allowing players on lower settings to use these replacements as well besides being cohesive where the game uses LOD1.

Lower poly than aWT’s mesh, but still a little higher than EA’s, thanks to @thornowl nearly halving the poly count from 608 to 320 triangles. See a comparison below.

EA’s mesh: 192 poly for Child thru Elder; 72 poly for Toddler. aWT’s mesh (+ Buckley’s Toddler & Child conversion): 540 poly for all ages. My mesh: 320 poly for all ages.

For the textures, I edited escand’s beautiful Tiffany Glaze eyes, which I’d already been using on EA’s mesh for quite a while. I made the texture a bit larger, similar to EA’s default size, so that it won’t look too small on my mesh, and made some other small modifications to the texture.

I’ve included a replacement for the face overlay for all ages, which combines textures from @potatobuttcheek’s Eyelashes N1, @aikea-guinea’s teeth and missy harries’ sclera. The overlay also gets rid of the lip tint for female Sims and the sclera has a tiny bit of transparency that blends in subtly with the Sim’s skin color. It’s a neat little effect EA used with their own sclera texture, but I hadn’t seen it replicated in many other defaults.

Previews

CAS preview of EA eye colors on the re:Cerberus mesh and textures.

In-game previews of the eyes in light colors, dark colors and with occult effects.

All previews use my Eye Shader Tweaks and VirtualHugs’ ColorLash + Judson’s Bottom Eyelashes.

Compatibility & Known Issues

The mesh and textures are currently default replacements only. I don’t use contacts in my game, so I haven’t made a non-default version.

You can mix and match by using my mesh with other textures, or using my texture on a different mesh. For reference, my mesh reduces eye textures to about the same size as aWT’s mesh.

My mesh uses SimEyes shaders because I wanted to retain the catchlights and occult effects. I haven’t made a SimSkin version, but you can easily change the shader of the GEOM resources using s3pe if you really want to.

My mesh is incompatible with aWT’s eye sliders; they will not look right if you use them because they’re made specifically for aWT’s eye mesh. I’ve never really used these sliders so I haven’t looked into making them compatible.

My texture is incompatible with Gruesim’s heterochromia eye mesh. It will look bad if you try to use them together.

The occult eye glow is a mess by EA’s design. The effect is slapped on the eye mesh without any awareness as to where the iris is actually placed; in fact, it’s not even aligned correctly on their own eyes. I hope to be able to fix this one day and make it work properly with any eye textures, but shader modding is not an easy or fast task, so please bear with me.

Download: SFS / MTS

Place the .package files in your Packages or Overrides folder.

Credits & Thanks

s3pe: Exporting/Importing resources, creating the package file.

Blender: Creating the eye mesh.

Adobe Photoshop 2024: Editing the texture, creating the preview images.

aWT’s Eye Mesh: Basis for my mesh edit.

Buckley’s Toddler & Child Conversion of aWT’s Eye Mesh: Used as a reference for the positioning of my toddler and child mesh.

escand’s Tiffany Glaze eyes: Basis for my texture edit.

potatobuttcheek’s Eyelashes N1: Used in my face overlay.

Aikea Guinea’s Multifoiled eyes: Source for the teeth texture used in my face overlay.

missy harries’ EA Face Overlay fix: Source for the sclera texture used in my face overlay.

Thank you to @justmiha97 and @thornowl for their contribution to the mesh. ❤️

Thank you to @probablyzora’s Zoe Saora for modeling the occult eyes! 💋

#mycc:ts3 #mycc:recerberus

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carionto · 8 months

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Alone with ourselves

(elaborating on the last sentence from here)

When we slipped away, or Vanished as the rest of the galaxy called it, most of Humanity didn't know what we were in for. Very few people knew of exactly what the plan was, most were told some BS about kicking the aliens' dumb "barrier" out, creating a force field, teleporting them away, whatever was most convincing to whoever happened to be in charge in each country and union.

Of course, one of the better ways to keep what we were actually doing was letting the truth spread among the lies, because really? Interdimensional travel? Most of the scientists working on actually making it happen didn't believe their own numbers and successful test results, but it worked.

Chaos.

What happens in places where a lot truly believe in a Hell, or Afterlife, or whatever else, and then the stars, the Moon, and the Sun just... disappear.

Utter, bloody, indescribable madness is what happens. And when the sky is still blue, you still feel the rays of sun hitting your skin, and the glow of moonlight still shines your way at night, well, that kind of lack of sense is enough to turn a lot of sensible people to the scriptures.

Truth don't matter at such a time. In fact, the truth tells everyone we lied to everyone.

We were hoping to get Humanity sorted and ready to take the stage against the aliens, maybe alongside if they would acknowledge as and show some respect, in just over a century.

It took that long to restore some degree of a civilization that can actually do real science. We overestimated ourselves, but we got back on track and then some.

Now, we could finally start to understand what it meant, in practical terms, to isolate Earth from the rest of the Universe. True nothingness beyond what we brought with us. We always pondered whether we were alone in the Universe, hoping we weren't, dreading we were.

Now there was nothing but us, nowhere to point our wandering gaze, no destination to set, no unknowns to discover. All we could do was look at each other, and we all know how that tends to go. Suffice to say, that 12.3 billion we slipped back in with should've been thrice that, but we can't help ourselves.

In a way, I guess that's good. Our nature meant we always had someone to one-up, and even when most of us managed to be buddy-buddy for a while, our imagination of what awaited us back kept things... well, progress demands sacrifice.

On one hand, learning how to make miniature suns, but not how to turn one off properly, did solve that whole rising sea levels problem. On the other, creating a 200km crater in the Pacific Ocean made for some... interesting weather.

However, all that now very exposed and partly-processed ore from the mantle made for some very good space ship building material. Just had to survive a few hundred super volcanoes and, you know, everyone suddenly being an environmentalist. Plus another collapse of civilization, but we went over that already.

To cut it short, Humanity always perseveres. We're like cockroaches, except with guns and opinions.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #story

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izunias-meme-hole · 1 year

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Ganondorf Designs Ranked

(Part 2 here)

Ocarina of Time (Young)

I like the outfit a lot. It compliments his buff body, the armor acts as protection, and some parts of it allow Ganondorf to be more mobile, which if fitting since he’s a theif. Also the Gerudo markings on it complement the outfit very well. However the head seems… off, mostly the hairline. Ah well we only see him with this design three times in the game anyway. 9/10

Ocarina of Time (Timeskip)

AH NOW THAT’S BETTER BY A LONG SHOT! The cape and newer headpiece makes the rest of his outfit seem more regal, while the yellow eyes make him look more demonic! Not to mention his head got fixed! His ears even got pointier in the actual game to further emphasize on how Ganon changed into a demon king! Also, can we please point out the long slicked back red mullet he has? 10/10

Wind Waker

His armor got traded in for some regal robes, he’s still built like a tank, his eyebrows are smaller, and overall he seems less of an open menace compared to before. It’s more subtle now, which is fitting, since Ganon is a defeated king trying to revive his dead empire and restore Hyrule, just to take it over. I also really like the face shape he has. 10/10

Twilight Princess

Regal, powerful, and commanding. Fitting for who Ganondorf it, but WHY is his hair curlled up? WHY can’t his locks flow in the wind? Still, Smash resued this design for a reason. 10/10

Hyrule Warriors

I miss the cape, the Gerudo markings and the black armor on the Twilight Princess design, but DAAMN this is a glow up. The longer hair, and the golden gauntlets make this design for Ganondorf more regal than the Twilight Princess design, and helps it embody a lot more of Ganondorf’s traits. 10/10

Super Smash Bros. Melee

I’m sorry, but the face somehow looks uglier than the OG Young Ganondorf. I like the realistic textures, but a lot about this design feels off. 7/10

Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

This is the Young Ganondorf design with the face shape, headpiece, and cape of the timeskip design. AND IT WORKS. Also the addition of more black and grey on the outfit makes this design as good as the original GOOD OOT Ganondorf design. 10/10

Tears of The Kingdom

A true tribute to a lot of Ganon’s past designs, and he looks more in touch with his Gerudo heritage than before. Also, I like the Wind Waker inspired face shape, the long red hair, and the samurai look. 10/10

Mummydorf (TOLK)

He has the same outfit as his hydrated self, except it’s all torn up. His hair is longer too, and he looks gaunt as hell. Still this was a creepy as hell appearance. 10/10

Demon King Ganondorf

This design embodies what Demise was, but at its core it’s still pretty much Ganondorf. The horns, water-like hair, yellow and black eyes, and gloom/malice robe that’s merged onto his skin all look demonic, but every other feature he had cement that it’s still Ganondorf. 10/10

#ganondorf #ganon #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #wind waker #hyrule warriors #twilight princess #tears of the kingdom #super smash bros #(one behind the mask) Mun Izunia #Izunia speaks #ramblings #ranking #//Had to get this off my chest

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withoutyouimsaskia · 13 days

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nudity. Language. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Hello there! We're back in Morpheus' POV for this chapter. I've really enjoyed exploring the softer side of Morpheus with the aftercare but still keeping that foreboding undertones. Hope you like it too. Let me know what you think! All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus can see he has pushed your body to breaking point.

The only movements you are able to make are those that are involuntary. The intake of breath, sharp and shallow. The blink of eyelids, slow and drowsy. And the aftershocks feathering along the walls that still hug his softening cock.

The rapture of his own high vibrates in every cell, the humanoid form he takes being the epicentre, with waves of it expanding out across the expanse of the Dreaming, bathing it all in euphoria. He smiles faintly - anyone asleep during your union would have been privy to it in some aspect. Flashes of noises and sensations perhaps, or images of you entangled with him.

With a tender gaze, he looks at your exhausted form. He takes time to notice the details that others might have overlooked. The gradient of the dip of your navel. The vellus hair gracing your skin. The delicate lines on your face brought on by years of smiles. Every inch of you is perfection, the starshine streaming down enhancing your already incandescent air. Soulmate or not, you are the most remarkable person he has met.

There is no denying that you are to be his muse. Now that he has introduced you to his world he can resume work on creating new dreams, and your temperament and features are inspiring him already. His dreamers will be spoiled once the concepts are given life and sent forth into the Dreaming.

He is pulled away from observing your body by the sudden overflowing of silent tears. In the glow of the room, as they track down your cheeks, their lustre is like pearls washed up on a lonely seashore.

He's searching your expression for an indication to the source before they get close to wetting the sheets, cupping your face instinctually as feverous fear infects him. Is pain afflicting you?

His initial assessment gleans that they are falling despite there being no tangible signs of pain or sorrow, anger nor disgust. Further investigation is required.

He drops his register to the mellowest he can manage, whispering your name first, next asking, "Are you alright?"

You dip your chin in a solitary nod. A truthful nod.

You then take a deep breath, voice hoarse as you speak, "I just -"

Words fail you and you look down at your chest in lieu of finding the desired descriptors, hoping that he would catch on.

Your soul.

You make a little high-pitched sound in the back of your throat as he places a palm over its housing. Still very sensitive. With good reason.

Those last layers of defences that had been protecting you from the intensity of the soul bond had been steadfast in their resistance. Of course, they were never going to prevail over him, being the Endless that he is, yet the challenge could not be denied.

And now the conquest was over. He had you exactly where he wanted; physical form in the Dreaming, the Fates' prophecy fulfilled, soul tie complete.

He zeros in on your soul, using his aptitude for the metaphysical to see it in its actual form. The ball of light, two centimetres in diameter, that not too long ago was shattered, now criss-crossed with threads of rich blue, reminiscent of Kintsugi pottery. A mark of the small amount of his power - power that he'd quite literally fucked into you, that was slowly spreading out from your soul through your body, altering as it went. Only time would tell as to what enhancements it would bring if any.

His own soul was cleaved open at the end too, now infused with your essence; twines of seafoam green that he can feel rebalancing the constitution left so weary and depleted by his imprisonment.

It also appears that your mortality has been removed in the process; you are as eternal as he is now. He's against broaching this with you presently, feeling it would be misguided to do so. At this point in time you deserve the most diligent and gentle aftercare. It was your first time; you had trusted him with your wellbeing and that meant the moments after as well.

He will make his touches and movements so very delicate from here, continuing to keep his focus on your facial expressions and body language as much as possible.

Beginning with how he rises out of the position he had held over your body, giving him the ability to ease your crossed ankles out of the firm grip around his waist. Reluctantly, he withdraws himself from the warmth of your core, more trembles breaking free from the fluidity of the movement.

It makes you whimper loudly, the unintended stimulation and the way he guides your legs down to the mattress, as the recognition of how locked up your thigh and calf muscles are bark in your nerve endings.

"Would you allow me to clean you?" He asks, gesturing to the fluids that are now leaking from your cunt.

You seem surprised yet you agree nonetheless.

He conjures a bowl of water and a linen cloth, setting the former to the side of your right hip. The display has you propping yourself up on your forearms, fascinated by the shaping of form that comes so naturally to him. He moistens the fabric, pitter patters emanating erratically as he squeezes out the excess.

"I will stop if it is too much." A promise made while holding eye contact before beginning a gentle yet meticulous cleanse, re-dunking the cloth when needed.

Aside from a couple of flinches early on when he brushes over your clit, you cope with the touches very well, and Morpheus shows he acknowledges this in the murmured praises he looses with the completion of each swipe.

A stumble in your breathing has him stopping immediately though, drawing his attention to your startled face, eyes wide as you take in the pinkish tinge of colour in the water.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. I can finish taking care of it," your voice is warbled as you try and fail to close your trembling legs.

He puts a steady hand on your knee. "You have no reason to apologise."

A little dimple forms between your eyebrows, lips pulled thin by a grimace; evidently you are unconvinced.

"I want to take care of your needs. Please let me," he says with gentle candidness.

You blow out an unsteady breath as you struggle to look at him, attention darting all around the room, actively choosing to go anywhere but towards him.

These hallmarks of humiliation, vulnerability, they unreservedly rile him. Who had made you feel like this was unacceptable? No doubt your world's societal norms. Though Morpheus has seen improvements in them in recent years, there are lingering, foolish ideals on what was decorous when it came to the human body.

He relays his thoughts on the matter, "It is a natural occurrence, as natural as any other bleeding from broken skin. There is nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N."

He lets the reassurance settle in as he rubs his free hand up and down the outside of your left thigh.

"You know I speak the truth," he adds when you still remain silent.

Eventually you let your head slump back. "You're right."

His chest swells with pride at his successful reframing. "May I continue?"

You make a noise of affirmation.

Once he is done, the bowl and cloth de-materialise along with the patches of fluid that had been glistening on the sheets.

He leaves the space between your splayed legs, pausing as he kneels next you. You look like a ragdoll that has been dropped from a great height, limbs askew and head limp. He wishes to scoop you into his arms and re-arrange you, cocooning your beautiful body in the most luxurious fabrics his mind can create. So he does just that.

With a hand flat between your shoulder blades and another under your knees, he moves you to lay further up the bed, fashioning a sumptuous silk sheet to settle over you, a twin of the one tucked over the mattress. A knitted cashmere throw weighs down the sheet to seal in warmth. The last step is a plump pillow; he cradles your head carefully as he positions it.

"Thank you," you say shyly as he puts his head on an identical pillow, laying on his side so he can watch you.

"You are most welcome, my soulmate."

A beat. "Is there something I can do for you, Morpheus?"

He feels a thrill go through him, lust rising once more. Hearing his name on your lips is everything. Undoubtedly it always will be. He's instantly grappling with the urge to fuck you again and it is by sheer force of will he just manages to leash his lust.

"All I require is proximity to you," his words sounding much more gallant than he feels.

With visible effort, you roll onto your side, intent on providing him with delightful closeness despite the aches. Face to face, he decides now is time for a debrief.

"Is there anything you wish to discuss about the acts we performed together?"

You fiddle with your fingers, tentatively asking, "Did I do okay?"

The question is so endearing, it makes his chest tighten.

"Yes. You were, are perfection."

He catches the bashful glance your throw towards him and he draws even closer.

You had done so very well, taking everything in your stride since he found you in the waking world. Gone through a myriad of emotions, dealt with intense, sometimes painful physical reactions. And the sex... Well.

He runs a hand from your temple to jaw a few times to distract from the ever-mounting desires, thankfully taking the edge off with the affections.

"It is true. You are so trusting, communicative, generous. Receptive."

You huff out a noise of amusement. "How do you know that I wouldn't respond like that to everyone?"

Possessive jealousy drives a dagger into his heart, stiffening every part of his being, hackles rising as the sickening idea of anyone else touching you takes form in his expert imagination. Your question had been teasing - obvious from the impish quality in your eyes yet he cannot stop the rage that flares at the idea.

He extinguishes his temper, pushing it into the usual spot deep within, speaking with a level and authoritative cadence.

"You were not meant to be touched by anyone but me."

He holds your gaze resolutely, fascinated by how your pupils dilate from the covetous statement, fingers digging into the softness of your behind to add further weight to his claim.

"You derive pleasure from hearing me say that."

"Yes," you confirm, a telling half-smile appearing. "Though it would appear I am not the only one."

You nudge against the growing erection hidden by the sheets with your knuckles. The simple touch is a catalyst, his restraint almost breaking, eyes shifting to match the backdrop of the night sky above you both.

"Not right now," you assert.

His answering glare makes you raise your eyebrows. But you do not back down.

"Very well. I will keep myself contained. For the time being."

You press a sweet, quick kiss to his cheek. "I appreciate you enduring such hardship."

You laugh a little at the end of the teasing sentence. It is an effervescent sound, one that makes him feel so alive. When was the last time he truly felt like that?

He would do anything to keep you laughing like that, make you happy.

Inspired by that sentiment, he drapes an arm over your body and pulls you closer. You sigh in contentment, smiling warmly at him.

A crescent moon rises to accompany the stars in the ceiling sky. The slip of light it reflects is as peace-giving as your skin against his. Quiet descends.

Finally - after the frenzied events of the past couple of hours, the delirium that had ensnared the both of you in body and mind, spurring him to reveal the truth to you and initiate the binding of your souls - finally everything stills.

And in this stillness, after a considerable number of minutes, Morpheus begins to register the results of the soul bond between you; a direct line broadcasting your every emotion to him even though you are awake.

They are not particularly stable right now, kaleidoscopic in how quickly they evolve from one to the next. He is accustomed to knowing humanity's emotions, exposed to every facet of them for millennia yet this is different. With the dreamers there is a certain level of detachment. Being his soulmate, the impartiality is gone.

He is peering around the curtain.

And the emotions you are feeling are about him, directly influenced by him.

Exhilaration, fondness, trepidation, pensiveness.

His eyelids flutter at the intimacy, mouth dropping open with a shaky sigh.

"What is it?" You ask immediately as worry enters the mix. How adorable that your reflex was concern for him.

"Our soul bond is strengthening. I can feel your emotions."

You blink, stimulated by the notion first, then disappointed. "I can't feel anything coming from you."

"Give it time," he reassures.

"How much time?"

A little smile quirks his lips from your charming impatience.

"A few hours. Perhaps more."

Curiosity dances in your eyes as well as your mind; you study him closely, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. "What's it like?"

"It is quite diverting."

In fact, it is the sort of thing that has potential to consume his every thought. He will have to be cautious of how much time he is dialled into the bond. As long as he makes the rules now then he will be okay. No over-use. No over-reliance.

A brush of fingers across the back of his hand, the inside of his wrist. "Tell me what you're feeling, Morpheus," you whisper.

He pulls himself from the compelling information flowing from you and takes a reading of his own internal state.

It's tempting to lay it all on the table. To tell you of the powerful emotional reactions happening. But he won't. The emotions must be compressed into something more regulated. He chooses the words carefully:

"I am wholly contented."

Joy and relief swirl from you and you kiss him. The softness of your lips help soothe the fierce feelings and when you part, Morpheus is fully reigned in.

He notes that your eyes are drifting now, glassy with oncoming sleep.

He rubs a thumb across your cheekbone.

"It is okay if you want to fall asleep," he murmurs. "My only request is that you permit me to hold you, so I may monitor how things progress."

There is much acclimation to be made. The scalding heat that had been rampant under his own skin has only just dropped to a simmer, let alone all the things to come. He must not leave your side until your body has adjusted to the energy within you.

"I wouldn't say no to sleep," you say with a lethargic smile.

He eases you into a nearer proximity. An arm slung across your middle. Legs tangling together. You nuzzle against the skin of his neck, inhaling deeply as if his scent could knock you right out.

"Good night, soulmate."

He kisses the top of your head, replying with the same.

You place a palm over his soul. "Thank you, Morpheus. For answering all my questions and being so patient with me."

"It is the least I can do, Y/N."

As soon as you are fully under he peers at you, cheeks already rosy from the warmth of the sheets and his body, lips parted. You appear serene on the surface - he decides to lean into that link one last time for tonight.

Morpheus keeps still as you sink into subconsciousness. Not a hard feat for him; he mastered that art long ago. Crossing the threshold into sleep is smooth for you, exhaustion efficiently picking the lock.

Yes. There it is. Evidence that you feel safe and happy. He has done his job well. Now to maintain this level of performance. For your sake as well as his own.

Your presence is the first rain after a drought. A lighthouse on a treacherous stormy night. You are an antidote to a poison that he hadn't realised he was choking on. You are healing him, just as he knew you would.

And there are measures that must be taken to keep it that way.

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"Controlling my feelings for too long. Forcing our darkest souls to unfold. Pushing us into self destruction. They make me, make me dream your dreams."

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