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roseglazedlens · 7 months

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⦑ 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱? ⦒ ✶.*

pairing(s): ethan winters x afab gn reader synopsis: ethan can't sleep again. as his doting partner, you reach under the sheets, giving him temporary solace to his nightmares at the village. content: smut 18+ only mdni, soft dom ethan, hand & finger kink, sensual, oral (m! receiving), deepthroat, finger fucking, body worship, pet names, hurt/comfort, events in re8, mentions of trauma, nightmares, scars, stitches & prosthetics. a/n 2: please check out my friend @emilzke's ethan winters x reader work called 'rebuilding' which i absolutely love (she got shadowba-nned so give her some love thanks!) a/n: belated birthday gift to @obsolescent, one of my favourite people on this app! sorry this took so long! ! even if its not your bday anymore, hope you still had a good night lovely! enjoy! also inspired by this art of ethan. « 2.2 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

It all started from a little small talk, quiet reassurances of ‘how was your day’ shared intimately under the privacy of the moonlight and each other’s eyes until both of you drift into slumber. The bed, in which you rest together when night falls. Two bedside tables, lived in, and for a moment, a sense of normality has returned.

Ethan was restless in his sleep—a side effect from full-day’s work of software debugs and upgrades that he maintains on the daily. Or perhaps, something more. Something that happened in the village that he spends every minute trying to forget. And despite the passing of seasons, the memory lingers like persistent heat.

His hand fidgets under the covers, shifting fingers up and down in desperation to find yours, as if you might disappear, kidnapped by the shadows of his nightmares and he’s back there again, finding missing flasks, patching you together piece by piece like a detached puzzle. But what he’s actually looking for are parts of himself, that seem to still sit underneath the crumble and debris of the buried village.

“R-Ro…” Ethan’s voice hitches out—frantic, weak.

Through muffled strings of your sleepy breath, you rummage under the sheets to find his hand.

“My dear… It’s me. I’m here.” You turn around to lean into the column between his neck and shoulders, made perfect for you. The moment your hands meet, Ethan clasps them tightly, before relieving, loosening in your reassurance. “You’re okay now. Rose is okay.”

Ethan’s eyes open lightly and just like you promised, Rose is in the cot by your side, gentle baby's breath floating through the air. He brings you closer to his chest, just to nestle into your warmth as he peppers kisses on the crown of your head.

“Did you sleep?” You coo, hands running up his naked torso just to feel them against you.

“A little. I’ll go back to sleep soon. Just need a second.” His chest heaves in front of you, and from what you know about Ethan, his quickened heartbeat will only take a while for him to calm down.

You look up to see him, and find that his eyes are wide awake, simply staring at the ceiling, as if counting sheep to hypnotise him back to sleep. Through lidded eyes, Ethan sees you; and smiles at how you look. His hands move unthinkingly, bringing them to your face before he even realises he’s caressing it, sending a gentle shiver of warmth through your spine.

“Ah.” Ethan puts his hand in the air to stop him, chuckling bashfully. “Sorry for keeping you up. Get some sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m awake now.” You grumble, catching his hand in the air back to your face, like a toy stolen from a child. You press his hand on your cheek, keeping him there, which Ethan has no problems with.

His hands are different now, you thought as you run your fingers down his hand, feeling every stitch, bump, and rough texture that ran along the back of his palms before hitting you with the cold knuckle of his metal prosthetic fingers along where his ring and pinky finger should have been.

What used to be the compliment getter for Ethan, through the bruise and burns had lost its natural shine, not even his superhuman healing speed is immune to the scars. But to you, the rugginess simply enhances his beauty. Stitches tracing like a map to a treasure, red patches of scar like cherry kisses gracing along the soft plush of his palms. You love it all.

Those are proof of Ethan's survival—That was all you wanted. To hear and feel his presence in the mundane. Side by side with the man you love. But to him, he lost something that day. A part of his soul ripped apart, still underneath the crumble and debris of that buried village.

“Do you need help sleeping?” Your half-lidded eyes can’t obscure your devilish glint in your eyes, hand rustling underneath the sheet, obscure him from the view of what you’re about to do to him. His eyes meet yours, staring right back in disbelief, but simultaneously unable to resist what you have to offer for him in this quiet night.

“Now?” He seems to be genuinely considering the idea. “What if Rose wakes up?”

“She won't if you keep quiet.” You bring his hand to your lips to pepper kisses on his hands, slowing as you’re licking the length of each finger. The pain goes away, replaced by lust, but only ever so slightly.

“Can you do that for me?” You pause, waiting for his answer, and he nods surely. “Good boy.”

Wasting no time to help to get comfortable, you dive your head under the covers just to resurface as a lump under the sheet. Ethan clears his throat in anticipation as you tuck your fingers into boxers, removing just enough for his cock to spring up and meet you in the face.

You run your tongue at the tip of his crest, swirling in small circles to tease his precum out of him, in which he squirms, pushing in his legs slightly before relaxing. It was difficult to see where you are in the darkness of the sheets, but you make do, finding where his crest meets his shaft and following it down the rest of his dick to find the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

When his cock is wet enough to your liking, you meet his tip with the soft seam of your lips, taking his length inch and inch at a time as you tongue around his hardening cock. A low grunt escapes his lips, and you can hear his thoughts fading him as you play with him some more.

He places his hand on your head, blood surging down his body, not quite wanting to hurt you, or accidentally snag on your hair to make it painful.

That’s who your husband is, even when he’s enjoying, he would never want to hurt you. Or at least tries not to.

“O-Oh... m’ god, so fuckin’ goo- Nnh.” That is your cue to move in deeper, hopefully to catch him between words and leave him hitching his breath as you finish him under your nose. Your tongue clashes against his dick that only fills your mouth, eventually leaving no room for your tongue to explore him. The bobs of your head become more messy and difficult, and his whimpers only make you even more excited.

“L-Let m’ see you, babe.” Ethan stifles the words out, lifting the covers up, and you’re embraced by the light of the bedside lamp. A glimpse of Ethan’s silhouette and his round beady eyes staring right into your position that exposes you and the hunger you have for him.

With you now able to see, you catch how his eyes snap shut, brows twist in, feeling every single pulse climbing through his body. His hand that rests on your head grows tighter, one that is neither rough or gentle, just a reassurance and consolance of what you are going through. You feel yourself pooling from how lewd it all sounds.

“Fuck, how did I get married to someone like you?” Ethan whines, bumping his head into the headboard behind with a light thump, but he doesn’t care. You are right in front of him, and he’s taking in the sight of you in with every glimpse of attention he can offer.

The tip of the dick is at the back of your throat. Only now you feel the gag reflex—but you shut your eyes tightly, holding in a little longer until the feeling surely goes away. This is when you feel his hips jerk up against you, thighs widening to welcome you as he whimpers bitten pieces of your name until his spine shakes from the fervour of affection you have been pouring into him.

“G-Get off… I’m fuckin’ gon-gonna…” Ethan’s raspy groan erupts through the room, melodious to you, as his hand struggles to push you off, made weak for any movement from how your skilled lips have treated him.

Ethan falls back to the sheets, with one final grunt, unloads himself directly onto your tongue. And you accept, letting your sore jawline hang wide to receive the fruits of your labour. His hand untenses from your head, abandon to the side of him in order to recollect his thoughts.

You reach over the bedside table to retrieve the tissue box in order to spit out his cum for disposal. You roll back to your side of the bed, checking at Rose's slumber, and when you did you bring the sheets upwards, preparing for your sleep.

“Good night, Ethan.” Are your final words creeping a yawn before turning the lamp off.

Ethan pauses to catch his breath for a moment, then wraps his hands around you, coaxing warm kisses into your neck: “How’d you expect I sleep without tasting you first?”

“I’m on morning shift tomorrow. Need my eight hours.”

“You sure?” There it was. That sweet voice lined with a hint of mischievous tone. The one you can’t resist.

“I’m very sure.” You don’t hesitate, because you know it will give yourself an opening.

He runs his hand up your belly, slightly exposed from your lifted shirt, pressing strokes that almost feels like a massage. Ethan seems to know where to touch you every time to untense you. “By the time I’m done, you’ll sleep like a baby.”

You can be convinced. You can be convinced very much. Especially with how he reaches down to tease you, and knows how your body betrays mind, with how you have wet a patch in your underwear.

“Not very honest, aren’t you?” Ethan lets out an amused grin, as if returning the favour of what you’ve done to him at his barely awake state. “You’ll still get your eight hours. I’ll make you come in five minutes. Guarantee it.”

You roll your eyes and wave at him to go ahead, but secretly, your clit is pulsing at his forwardness, increasingly eager to let him please you. In which Ethan helps himself, running a teasing finger up the length of your cunt just to stop at your clit, swirling lazy circles which only earn a groan from you that Ethan has been desperate to hear all night.

“Etha-an… Hnng… B-Babe…” The feeling run into your veins, growing in need, knotting itself low in your stomach. He delivers as he promises with only his nimble fingers, through slick and slurp, explores the depths of you, finding the spot you desire with skilful ease. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes to feel him filling you with his fingers alone, and encourages him to continue.

He spreads you, adding his second finger now, the cold metal of his ring finger, lacing them on the length of your cunt with practiced ease. The contrast between cold and warm only excites you more. Ethan dotes on your sweet voice, slipping the two curled fingers in and out through a perfect angle that pushes a muffled groan between clenched teeth.

“God, baby.” He takes that as a sign to continue faster and harder, jamming his fingers until the sound of your slick permeates the air, every muscle clenching at him. “You like it when my finger fucks you, huh?”

You let the sensation continue, allow yourself to completely give away control to the man you love. Let him take care of you, like you always do to him. Ethan is merely returning the favour. A slight pain enters through his sensitive finger that still aches from a past wound, in which he winces, and you catch on almost immediately.

“Y-Your hand…”

“Shh… Just be quiet and feel good.” He smiles, not intending to stop anytime soon. Ethan quickens his pace, before you start squeezing into his fingers, demanding urgency, speed through how your thighs close in, as if that would allow more friction on your naked skin.

You open your eyes now, and all you see is sincerity in his eyes, fixed upon you this whole time to make sure you are indeed enjoying what he’s doing to you. And somehow, that is the one action that tips you over the edge, rippling high moans through the back of your throat as you chase your own high directly between his fingers.

“Wow.” Ethan whistles, a bemused grin hanging by his lips as he feels your juices release, spilling on his fingers. “You came so much.”

Ethan brings his fingers up his lips, admiring his handiwork, dripped in your sweet juices, before putting them into his mouth. He runs his tongue around the sides of his slender fingers, savouring every part of his reward.

“Heh. Told you I just need five minutes.”

“That was ten minutes, Mr. Winters.”

“Maybe I can beat my record?” Ethan winks, quite terribly, frankly, and despite how his silly charms would normally convince you, this time, you are functioning with five hours of sleep.

“Don’t even try, Ethan.” He shrugs, slightly defeated, as he joins you into the cosy embrace of your shared bed.

...

“In the morning?”

“Are you serious right now, Ethan?”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. god i'm so feral for him, every night i'm plagued by the thoughts of ethan cradling me to sleep and whispering into my ear (yes this is a marriage proposal). tags: @valsthea @httpsuguru @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#ethan winters #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters x you #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil smut #resident evil

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thesassypadawan · 23 days

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Submit (Burnt Darth Vader x FemPetReader)

Summary: Never. You will never submit to your new master, your lord. At least that’s what you thought. After hours of torture and some persuasive thoughts, you begin to see things in a different light. Perhaps submitting isn’t all that bad. (Somewhat origin story of Pet Reader.)

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Choking, Dom Daddy Darth, Somewhat Subby Pet…and Vader’s big hands.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- “Submit to me…become my perfect pet.”

- “Never!” Feet scrabble for purchase as you rise off the floor. Hands snapping to your neck, desperately clawing at an invisible hand.

- Your new master, your lord strolls towards you. Clad all in black, his face hidden by a full mask. His rhythmic breathing pounding in your ears, along with the sound of your frantically beating heart. “Foolish little girl; you are in no position to defy me.”

- You should be horrified, absolutely terrified of him…this nightmare of a man. Yet your nipples pebble beneath your clothes and a dampness begins to grow between your legs. Body completely betraying you, despite your current predicament.

- “I can easily make or break you,” he spoke coldly, amber lenses staring emotionlessly into your eyes. “Give you unimaginable pleasure or pain.”

- Images and thoughts swirl around your brain, ones that you surely know that cannot be yours…

- A large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to take your breath away. All the while he, ‘your lord’, rails you from behind. Splitting you open, stretching you so achingly good. His cool leather fingers tweaking at your nipples, before dipping into your folds. Pinching and rolling your clit. Until it all becomes too much, and he somehow whispers into your ear the simple order to… “Cum.”

- Snapping back to reality, you find yourself on the ground. Gasping, wheezing; greedily inhaling as much air as you possibly can. Mind confused, vision blurry. The feeling as if you were drowning overwhelming your senses. A soreness and emptiness between your legs

- His voice rang out across the bed chamber, low and even. “Your thoughts were very loud. Very…interesting.”

- Slowly you regain control, head tilting slightly upwards. Eyes struggling to focus as you try to steady and center yourself. “W-What do you mean by interesting?”

- Taking another step forward, he lets out a mechanical chuckle. “It would seem that you do desire to belong to me. That you wish for me to use and abuse you however I see fit. That you will more than happily take everything that is given to you.”

- Reaching you, Vader squats down closer to your level. Gloved hand gripping your chin, surprisingly gently. Thumb swiping across your bottom lip, the texture sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Open.”

- Perhaps it was oxygen deprivation or the hours of torture you had already sustained. Nonetheless you still willingly obey, allowing him to slip his digit inside your mouth. Whimpering as you suck lightly, savoring the smokey taste on your tongue.

- Pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you. He stands back up; towering over you in his full, menacing glory. Hand held out to you, the black leather still shining with your saliva. “I can give you what your body so craves. What it truly yearns. All you have to do is…submit to me.”

- Swallowing hard, you bit your lip. You realize how desperate you are for more of his touch…to feel totally helpless…to be completely controlled. The answer is clear, and you slip your hand into his. “Yes, my lord; I will.”

- Tugging you effortlessly to your feet, you stumble forward into him. Smaller body presses against his larger one firmly. His hand begins to wrap around your neck, and you can’t help but moan softly.

- “Such a perfect little pet.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith

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repressed-n-depressed · 6 months

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suuuuuuuuper disappointed with Fashion Dreamer, but I'm still having fun with it and don't regret buying it. it's such a step back from Style Savvy in every single category. literally does everything worse.

there's zero narrative or storyline

customization of clothing is literally just changing the colors, there's no textures or emblems or anything to add

sorting through your clothes is an utter nightmare. the old games let you filter by like… aesthetic type, category (not just "is a leg item" but getting as specific as "leggings" or "tube socks"); in this, all you can do is filter by the broadest category and since you have tons of stuff it's a nightmare

the gender binary, booooo

tons of categories of items are missing from old style savvy games, no handheld items whatever and it doesn't seem like necklaces, gloves, bracelets or any hand accessories whatsoever are there either

you can't save outfits. wtf!!! in ALL of the old games you can save a bunch of outfits you made, in this one you simply cannot. good luck remembering all the items you used when you have 7000 of them and no way to sort.

can't zoom in while dressing up, so good luck guessing what color a lot of those really thin eyeglasses and the like are. thought they were pink? nope sorry they were brass actually

there's no layering whatsoever. you used to have an outer layer and an inner layer, and you could wear all kinds of dresses, shirts etc over the inner layer to make nice looking combinations of things like corsets and stuff like that. and you could wear skirts over pants. now, nope, just one layer for tops (not counting jackets) and bottoms, and anything that looks "layered" came pre-made that way

the coolest items are locked behind a fricken GACHA

it is absolutely still a fun game to play if literally all you want to do is dress up a character to make numbers go up. i'm enjoying myself despite literally all of this. the Photo Egg is fun, the drone to take photos around the areas is a good feature. most of the clothing is very cute, and i'm glad to be able to customize them so that they aren't gratingly different shades of grey or whatever and make a coordinated outfit.

but whoof, without the store aspect and the little character storylines from dressing your various customers, the whole thing feels just as empty and hollow as i expected.

i will still be playing way too much of it though. anyone wanna be Fashion Dreamer friends? lol

#fashion dreamer #style savvy #game reviews #rambling #nintendo switch

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agarthanguide · 6 months

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Hi Hannah! How much creative freedom do you get with the official art? How many pose sketches do you do before you settle on the perfect one? Also, can you tell us what kind of brushes you use? And do you use procreate? Sorry for all the questions, I just find this all so fascinating! Thank you for everything you do for the fandom. You are so very appreciated and loved, I hope you know this.

Hi Anon!

I have total creative freedom with the official art. But that doesn't mean the actors will go for it lol. In reality, it generally goes- - Actor sends brief. May be a few sentences. May be a huge pdf with multiple reference photos. Or anything in between. - I craft a pitch. I try to focus on a few main elements, those being- - Face - Pose language - Outfit/gear - Color palette - Weapons (if applicable) Then there's a back and forth in which the actor picks stuff I've pitched, or asks for more specific things, makes changes, etc. It doesn't always go exactly like that, but it's mostly something like that.

So, you know. That actually translates into a lot of freedom! I have not ever gone completely off script, but I do try to spread different elements around, and pitch a variety of styles and concepts. I conceive of my job as helping the actor get their vision across to the audience. In my worst nightmares, the audience is alienated from a character or misinterprets a character because of my design, instead of the intentions of the actor.

I use photoshop, because I am an Old. I have a huge gorgeous wacom cintiq, and I use a foolish number of layers. I know younger, more nimble artists who make massive paintings on ipads with procreate, but I am not that slick lol.

I have a stupidly large collection of brushes, but I mostly use a few key ones. A very pressure sensitive triangle brush for sketching and lineart, a heavily textured round brush for shading. I make my own brushes for things like knitwear and armor.

Thank you for the nice ask and the lovely words- I can't tell you how much that means to me. Here is a sketch of Imogen in a cape!

#my art #asks #critical role

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hexxalite-hecate · 1 year

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I used the Flycam mod to go to the Black City.

Ever since I first played Origins 13 years ago, I've been curious about how the devs represented the Black City in the game. There are a few main masses, and they generally look equidistant from most areas of the Fade. But I noticed a long time ago that when Sloth sends you to your personal nightmare in the fake Weisshaupt in Broken Circle, one of the Black City islands looks way, WAY bigger. I just happened to be playing that section today, and I'd been using the new Flycam mod to take some screenshots. It occurred to me: why not see the throne of the Maker, and find out if it is empty?

I was interested in this mass of 6 islands, which appears from different angles in different sections of Sloth's realm.

It takes a LONG time to get here, even with flycam. About 5 minutes realtime. but it's worth it. It was so cool but I was also unexpectedly and HUGELY creeped out. The half-rendered textures feel like something out of a weird nightmare, the lighting is strange, and some sections are completely hidden in mist until they loom over you. And the creepy Fade music was playing over the top of everything.

Getting closer to the left spur. Some shapes are visible that look like structures.

Getting closer, the structures become clearer. This one looks kind of industrial and factory-like:

The highest island has these long strings coming down from it, almost like a deep sea squid.

A spire-like structure on the highest island:

The main mass is GIGANTIC, so big I couldn't get it in one screenshot. It's like a huge capsized ship, like the titanic. Or like a massive eldritch sea creature mid-dive with its tail flipping up. Somwhere between organic and mechanic. It's honestly SO CREEPY. Also I have megalophobia and this thing was setting it off BIG TIME.

From the top, looking down. Images don't do justice to how enormous it is. The blob on the left is Weisshaupt.

This thing is so big that the perspective got really confusing and it was sending the camera HAYWIRE. It kept shaking and pinging around. This is looking vertically down:

Looking back up the “tail” of the main mass to the highest island:

Next I was interested in this guy way off to the left, who looked like he had some cool structures. We shall call him: genie lamp!

The structures here are far more uniform and city-like. They reminded me of cathedrals and cloisters. Honestly the atmosphere here was neat. The models are obviously low-poly but the fog kind of obscures that, the lighting is almost pretty (although sometimes it hit weird and creeped me out again). I love my lil dark academia genie lamp. This is like if Hogwarts went to hell (which, granted, it kind of has considering everything going on right now).

Anyway I guess I have the Blight now. Corypheus and me can be buddies.

Flycam mod here!

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #the fade #the black city #meta #my screenshots #my shit #dragon age mods #flycam mod #flycam

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savannahsdeath · 6 months

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THE LOOP ENDING

knight!ellie x princess!reader

read the first chapter; here

warnings: mentions of forced marriage, readers mom is a really bad person, nightmare, blood, death of an animal, public execution, runaway.. lmk if i missed anything !!

writers note: ellie is so silly i want to keep her in my pocket .

you woke up with a gasp, sitting up and propping yourself on your weak, shaking arms without even realizing it. you felt an uncomfortably slippery texture under your hands - your pillow soaked with sweat and tears which you unconsciously shed during your dream nightmare. and though sweat usually connects with heat, your trembling body was the complete opposite - you felt like a cube of ice, even with the covers hugging you.

and yet, there was some sort of a warm sensation that calmed you down.

"i'm here, your highness." a voice whispered, and you started to realize you're not alone.

indeed, the mattress was slightly dented on your left side, as if someone's weight pressed it down. you rubbed your eyes and catched your breath, tilting your head to face ellie.

you let out a dry sob and wrapped your hands around her, making sure your embrace isn't leaky, and she won't somehow slip out between your arms. you were sure it wasn't a hallucination as you felt her firm hands on the back of your head.

"another nightmare, huh?" she smiled against your neck, but you could guess how concerned she really was. "what did your mother do this time?"

you sighed but forced a weak smile on your own, tired face. "you have no idea." you shook your head, nuzzling your face in her shoulder.

"this woman is going to be the death of me." she chuckled and you noticed how raspy her voice was. she probably didn't sleep at all, knowing what awaits her— what awaits you both this night.

and you— you just broke down crying at her words. she was so right and she didn't even realize it.

no matter how bad you felt in this right moment, you had to do something. you couldn't wait.

"what time is it?" you asked, but you got cut off by some of your sudden sobs and sniffles.

"a good few hours passed since we came back from the garden. four, maybe five." she shrugged, stroking your hair.

so you were in the backyard with her. you watched the stars together and you— you shared a kiss. the rest of the week was just a dream. how is it possible?

"ellie..." you wiped your tears away, your sadness disappearing and getting replaced by confusion. "do you know anyone named luccy?"

"luccy?" her hand, which caressed your head, suddenly stopped in it's track. "how do you know about her?"

you let go of her, pulling away so you could see her worried expression. "she was in my dream." you explained. "she helped us."

us. because even if she tried to save ellie, she also relieved you. you'll never forget what the letter said, "my friend took care of me". somewhere, in the worst, most brutal universe, luccy was the savior for both of you.

"well, what was your dream about?" she murmured, nervously clearing her throat. she seemed to know it wasn't anything good, and the fact her friend was in it made it feel so real, so... prophetic.

"i—" you parted your mouth, but your voice slowly drifted off. you wondered when did it start. when did everything go downhill...

you figured out it may be your reckless ranting on the weddings day.

"it's one of the knights." you really weren't controlling the words coming out of your mouth and that could only mean one thing - problems. "ellie."

right, it must be it. what were you even thinking?

after a second you realized ellie would live if she didn't interrupt the ceremony. that's when it really happened.

but then again, maybe she'd survive if she picked a different hiding? maybe just luccy's house wasn't safe?

you got lost in the options. everything could lead to this tragedy. every little mistake. at this point, you didn't have any choices. only one thing could stop this — making sure the wedding won't happen at all. as long as you were married, you couldn't achieve a happy ending. it was simply not possible.

when you came to your senses, with a light jolt of your whole body, ellie's hands were resting on your shoulders.

"i'm sorry—" you mumbled. "i was... thinking."

a ray of sunlight was shining through the blinds, irritating your sleepy eyes. your knight leaned in, covering it and making you disappear in the darkness again. her hands cupped your chin and her thumb traced your bottom lip.

"something's wrong, isn't it?" she sighed, knitting her eyebrows together.

"yes." you lightly nodded, not wanting your movement to cause in her comforting touch leaving your face. "i won't let anything happen to you."

she chuckled, pressing her lips to your forehead for a few long seconds. "i'll be fine."

she's won't. not if everything comes out as in your nightmare. and you knew how easy it was to fail - everything can lead to an unstoppable situation. you got a second chance, you could fix everything. you won't get stuck in this miserable loop.

"no—" you shook your head, weakly repeating; "no, no... we should pack our things and—"

"and what, your highness?" she smiled, as if she didn't take you seriously, but you knew that's not true. she knows she's in danger. she has to know, she has to realize that. "we have nowhere to go."

you pulled away from her and fell on the bed, making it look like you were throwing a tantrum, what had some truth in it. you really were mad, not angry, but a little mad... how could she be so unfazed? did she not understand?

and then again, she was right. you wouldn't survive in the forest, probably not even in your poor town. you were really independent, as for a princess, but you were too used to living in luxury. only one thing came to your mind, and somehow, it made sense. "we have luccy on our side."

her pearly whites disappeared under her chapped lips, though the corners of her mouth were still slightly upwards. "what about her?"

you whined with a shrug, rolling on your side to not face her. "forget it."

"no, wait, tell me." she pleaded, laying down beside you. "i'm sorry, your highness. i w— won't laugh, 'promise." she raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, making her embarrassment obvious. your trust and respect was the most important thing in her life, not counting your love. the love that made you change your mind and open up to her, even if she'd shrug it off.

"maybe she knows a place..." you started but gave up midway. you truly didn't know what to say - you didn't have a plan, not even a single idea. the little bulb in your head was off and won't turn on, no matter how hard you'll focus. "i— i don't know, 'm sorry..." you rolled over to face her, even though you usually didn't want to let her see your embarrased state.

"well," she smiled, tugging a loose strand of your messy hair behind your ear, while her free hand rested between her head and one of the pillows. "i know a place."

your eyes flashed with curiosity, widening and brightening, reflecting some sort of light that wasn't even there, in your dark room. "you do?" you propped yourself on your elbow, parting your lips in focus.

"well, not personally..." she chuckled, looking away and fidgeting with her fingers. "i heard that— you know, in town— they have a map of neighboring cities. they often travel to trade things and..." you sat up, looking down at her with an expression that signaled your surprise. "i can try to talk with someone—"

you cut her off by leaning in and pressing a peck on her lips. "you're amazing, ellie." you stood up and started rummaging through your closet, after you pulled out an old leather suitcase from under the bed.

she trailed after you, though stopped at the edge of the bed. "what are you doing?" she frowned, pouting her lips in a way that made your mind squeal.

"packing." you spun around, making a show by throwing each neatly folded piece of clothing with exaggerated grace. "you should too!"

she got up and stared at your moves with crossed arms, what could feel judging matched with her slightly mocking pout. she nodded, as if it was obvious. "so you just want to leave like— right now?"

you dropped a dress you were holding on the floor and walked over to her, putting your hands on her shoulders. "yeah?" you shrugged, not sure what is making her so... confused. "it's now or never."

"now or never..." she repeated, still inclining her head up and down before stopping with a loud click of her tongue. "of course." she slowly walked backwards, towards the door. "you're crazy, you know that?" she laughed and for a split second you thought she's heading to the exit because she wants to leave - leave and tell everyone about your plan so someone would stop you. "let's meet in the garden as soon as you finish."

you let out a deep breath you didn't even know you've been holding. she winked and disappeared behind the scratched piece of wood you couldn't really call door anymore. you slammed it with force inappropriate for an innocent princess too many times.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"how did you know there would be a hole here?" you pointed at a spot in the wall which lacked dozens of bricks, creating an empty circle enough for you to fit through.

"oh, sweetie..." she nonchalantly smiled, and you couldn't help but freeze at the nickname. it was definitely the first time she called you something else than 'your highness' or 'my princess'. "do you think it's my first time stealing a horse?"

"why would you steal a horse?" you pushed your bag into the hole, kicking it forwards with your leg to make room for yourself.

"well, not steal, i only borrowed them." she put her hand between the bricks and your head, protecting you from bumping into them if you'd accidentally raise your chin. "sometimes, when your mother pisses me off— nothing's better than some fresh air."

you hummed, crawling to the other side of the grey wall. you straightened up, wiping your dirty hands in your dress and jumping in excitement. "come on, ellie! i'm waiting!"

soon enough her package appeared next to you, reminding you of your own, so you picked it up with a loud, sharp huff. you swore that it weighs more than you and your knight (in full armor on!) together.

"let me take it." she extended her hand towards you, curling her fingers in a 'come on' gesture. you didn't see her coming, so you budged, what made you drop your suitcase. you raised it, this time holding back a gasp, and shook your head. "so stubborn." ellie murmured with a smirk.

"i— ugh— 'm not stubborn. i'm just— uh, strong." you whined, persistently dragging your bag with you.

"my strong princess." she taunted, lifting and withdrawing her own package like a weight. you rolled your eyes but you admired how easy it was for her - your strong knight. "we'll see how long you can last."

"oh— 's so mean." you huffed again, causing in some loose strands of your hair flying upwards.

you walked along the wall, letting ellie stay a few steps behind, as you searched for the back door of the stable.

the plan wasn't complicated. you couldn't just take your horses and leave - not before the sunrise. not only the guards won't let you, but they'd also tell your mother about your suspicious behavior. she'll immediately figure your plans out. so, you had to come in through the second entrance - the one from the forest's side. then, you'll just take your horse - without making much noise and... go wherever you want. you'll be free and in such a simple way. easy. too easy.

"ellie?" you started, seeing massive wooden door a few meters ahead. you waited for her curious 'yeah?' before continuing; "how are we going to get inside?" you let her laugh for a few seconds, but she didn't gave you any answer even after her burst out finished. "so, how?"

"do you think they guard it?" she asked, running four steps forward to catch up with you.

"they don't?" you knitted your eyebrows together. "but that's dangerous!"

she shrugged, though her nonchalant smile clearly communicated; 'i know something you don't'.

after a few minutes and ellie's messing with the padlock, you safely got inside the stable. you ran up to your white, well-kept horse - pearl - forgetting about the burdensome weigh of your package, which quickly stopped being your problem. your suitcase quickly got on pearl's back, just like you, though you had to hold it the whole time. ellie's animal was the opposite of yours. in appearance - it was a chocolate shade of brown with a few lighter, as white as pearl spots, but also personality. whoever doubted that horses have personality could be easily proven wrong - when yours was a total princess (though it was easy to make her cross some boundaries), ellie's was way too confident and energetic.

you left the stable— or, well, pearl did it for you, and impatiently waited for ellie as she closed the door after you. on her way back to shimmer - her horse - she patted pearl and jokingly tugged on your leg, what almost made you kick her straight on her nose. yet she just laughed, and you did too. you had reasons to be happy.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

ellie helped you get off pearl before beginning to tie both animals to a nearby fence. "could you call luccy?" she asked with a loving smile.

"i don't know, ellie, i don't know her—" you explained, nervously stuttering and scratching the back of your neck.

you were scared of this moment. you were about to meet the person who tried to save ellie, a person who's actions could be so important in your story. could be, but you teared out a few pages and decided to overwrite them. you didn't know what genre will your book be, not yet, but you knew luccy will be in it. and she'll be a good character, even if she'd only appear in one chapter.

"nothing to be scared of." ellie reassured you, finishing her job and walking up to you. she put her hand on your lower back, slightly pushing you forward and, before you could protest, she knocked on the door for you.

you waited a few seconds, not too long but enough to let you know that she was doing something before you interrupted her. she was a tall, skinny woman with blonde, shoulder-length hair. her big blue eyes were squinted, signaling her defect of vision. she looked messy but, you had to admit, pretty.

she mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, maybe just a bunch of nonsense, and pulled you in for a hug. after a moment of hesitation, you wrapped your hands around her too, carefully listening to her rambling.

"come in, girls." she pulled away and stepped aside, making room for both of you. the way she acted around you carried a friendly tension - something that you never felt with any other stranger.

"we won't bother you for too long." ellie smiled, wrapping her arm around your waist to make sure you won't get lost. well, there was no way you'd get lost in this little cottage, maybe ellie was overprotective, or maybe needed an excuse to be close to you.

"oh, i hope so!" luccy laughed, closing the door with a loud creak which hurt your ears and made you wince. "my mother is sick. i have a lot things to do, really." her gaze wandered, staring into all the obstacles on the floor with a sigh. the area was... messy, to say nicely. "but i'm glad to finally meet you." she looked at you and you instinctively looked around to see if there's anyone behind you. after realizing she really means you, you honored her with a smile and nod. "ellie told me a lot about you."

for a second, you almost said something similar, before realizing ellie never mentioned luccy. you first met her in your dream, if you can even call it a 'meeting'.

and, obviously, 'we won't bother you for too long' turned into hours.

ellie asked her for a favor, a big and dangerous one. you didn't plan it with her beforehand, she surprised both of you. and the way she said it... so unfazed, so unbothered. "we know that gossips spread fast here so— i thought you could start a rumour that you saw the queen ordering someone to kill us." faking death was smart and making your mother responsible for it was even better but, jesus, why would she ask for that without consulting it with you? your own mother trying to kill you.

when you finally left, the sun was close to setting, but at least you had the map. it was an old, damp piece of paper with weird lines on it.

"this square is the castle." you remembered luccy tapping a purple shape, before tracing her fingers along a red line to a green triangle. "here's... our friendly neighbours. they shouldn't know you're the—... princess. i advise you to settle down here."

you tried to reconstruct the route, but it seemed way more complicated now. you knew where's the castle, but where's your current location? you passed the map to ellie and got on pearl with an annoyed huff.

"are you still mad for the rumour plan?" ellie asked in a hopeful, innocent and pleading voice.

"no—" you smacked your lips. "well, yes, that too."

her expression turned serious, but soft, and her voice had an understanding undertone to it. "you'll thank me once we'll live our life, free and happy."

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

and you did. you thanked her everyday, you showed her how grateful you are all the time, in every way possible.

you quickly got accepted to the town's community. your silver coins were enough to buy a small cottage with some space for your horses outside. dina - a girl your age who was always there to help - said the previous owners died, by some disease unknown to you, related to animals. you still had a lot of change, so you kept it in a jar above your new desk. everything was new, so new and unusual. you had a lot to learn - how to hunt, and cook your prey, sow and harvest your seeds... but you could gladly admit you were doing just fine.

not long after you settled, you found barely breathing pearl in the backyard. her perfectly white skin was interrupted by a blurred, dark red spot. there was an arrow stuck in her leg, close to stomach, and you had no idea for how long she suffered before you found her. the whole morning? night?

"i'm sorry." ellie leaned down, pressing her head to pearl's stomach next to you. "i'll find out who did that and i promise—" you cut her off with a shake of your head and a weak 'no'. you hoped it was a mistake, a one-off situation. you hoped you won't have to take any action. ellie sighed, standing up after patting pearl's body. "i'll get dina, okay?" she asked, and you weren't sure if she's talking to you or to your poor horse, so you only hummed in response.

"we could save her, it's just a little arrow—" you persistently pleaded, but you were met with nothing more than disappointed sighs.

"a wounded horse is useless." dina shrugged, and no matter how much you wanted to disagree, you knew you have to trust her.

and that's how your best friend, because that's how you liked to refer to pearl, even if it's just an animal, turned into a few gold coins from the town's butcher.

ellie liked to pretend it doesn't bother her, really.

"things like that are normal here" or "we have to get used to... that" and finally "it's not a big deal, you know, not anymore".

yet, she checked on shimmer every hour. one day, when you were trembling from fear as she didn't come home after sunset, you found her asleep in the backyard with her own friend. you couldn't wake her up, not when she looked so calm and innocent, with her lips parted and deep, loud breathing. you sat next to her, eventually drifting off to sleep too.

you had a dream, first one since moving out of the castle. it was a reminder of the new start, not only yours, but of all the residents. revolution.

it was about an event, which happened a few months before. about two weeks after you crossed out your royal past, luccy visited you to tell you about the success of ellie's plan. when you got to town - on still well and safe pearl - you found an empty hill with a view on the gallows. it looked just like in your nightmare, though except your loved one, your mother was the one standing there with a noose around her neck. one of the men, which you also saw in your dream before, shouted out loud all the bad things the convicted did, and you felt relieved that her death sentence isn't only caused by you. it turned out she broke her own law more times than you could imagine.

"...ordering the murder of her own daughter, our only princess..." you heard him reading out loud, almost yelling, and much to your surprise he didn't mention ellie.

you couldn't help but compare this situation to your love's penalty - no one said what she did wrong. your mother was determined to make her die, and she did, not even bothering to make up some reasons. but it was just a nightmare, and now, you were glad everyone will know how horrible the queen really is.

"i— miss this place." you pointed at your surroundings and the small castle you used to live in, far, far, far away. "i wish i could let them know i'm safe." you looked at the people mourning you, knowing it's the end of your lineage. you were in line to the throne, and now... who will live in your castle? you couldn't come back, though. in their minds, you were dead. they weren't completely wrong - a part of you really died. an useless part, which you didn't need anyway. "but then they'll all realise my mother is innocent."

"oh, hey now!—" ellie chuckled, like she always did during serious talks about your mother. "just because she didn't kill us doesn't mean she's innocent."

for a moment, your mind wandered to how she treated the service. how she treated everyone, unless they were other royals and she needed something from them - like the prince. oh, how nice she was to him.

the list of her faults was long, much longer than just the mention of your death. you nodded and with that thought, proudly watched your mother die.

✧˖°

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valeriianz · 9 months

Text

Retired!Dream with facial hair, inspired by @watercubebee's art here!

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Dream stared at the reflection of himself in the foggy mirror, his fingers pressing into the warm skin that was now his very human face. The pads of his fingers were soft along the strange texture of his jaw, prickly dark hairs that had begun to grow.

Dream knew what this was– facial hair, Hob had it. Dream had enjoyed the burn it left along his skin when they kissed, had curiously observed Hob when he would trim or shave it, usually with a device that buzzed so it was never too short. The human experience of maintaining and grooming had been fascinating, back then. Dream loved to observe and learn and judge, of course, why humans did the things that they did.

Hob was always so patient with Dream, explaining why he chose to maintain his scruff, and how “... I don’t see you complaining about it,” said with a smirk and a wink. Of course Dream was a naturally curious entity, he gathered pleasure from Hob’s experiences and stories. Dream of the Endless knew everything, was well aware of the knowledge of men through their dreams alone, their fantasies and nightmares. He had been very content to observe from afar– human beings and what brought them happiness or hardship always seemed so trivial and banal. Something about Hob Gadling, his persistence, his eternal optimism, was different. It made Dream stick around when otherwise he’d grown impatient.

Hob was a fighter, an enigma, something to study under a microscope. And after hundreds and hundreds of years, Dream began to admire and wonder at the mystery that was Hob Gadling. Began to relate to his experiences, growing something substantial in the meantime, something grounding.

Hence why Dream had made the decision to become like Hob Gadling; human.

There had been trials and tribulations (forced to make small talk with strangers, using the bathroom, brushing one’s teeth, the dreaded ordeal of going to the grocery store and searching for food). But Dream hadn’t anticipated the hair.

He did not care what he looked like, in the waking world. The discovery that his body produced testosterone and therefore, hair, was startling. Dream was a being of absolute control. He couldn’t control this.

But it was… interesting.

The stubble, as Hob liked to call it, on Dream’s face had gotten quite long in the past few days. Dream dug his fingernails (another nuisance, trimming fingernails. A waste of time) into the black bristles and scratched, tilting his chin to look down his throat, grumbling softly at the realization that the hair descended downwards as well.

A knock on the door gave Dream pause, gaze stuck on the mirror as Hob spoke, his voice muffled behind the door.

“Dream? You alright in there?”

With his eyes still roving over his face, Dream spoke up.

“Come in.”

Hob opened the door and Dream watched, out of his peripheral, as he approached.

“Looking at something nice?” Hob teased, pressing his front against Dream’s naked back and winding his arms over his waist, the towel there shifting but otherwise remaining tight around Dream’s hips.

“This is unsightly.”

Hob notched his chin over Dream’s shoulder to see what Dream saw in the reflection. He chuckled as his eyes followed the movement of Dream’s fingers on his jaw, down to his chin.

“You’re just not used to it, is all.” Hob pressed a kiss to the end of Dream’s bony shoulder. “And I happen to think it looks very fetching on you.”

Dream huffed, unconsciously leaning back in Hob’s hold, discreetly delighting in the feeling of Hob’s broad chest, covered in a thin cotton shirt, warm against his damp skin.

“You think everything looks ‘fetching’ on me,” Dream stated matter-of-factly, causing Hob to chuckle softly, his lips traveling across Dream’s shoulder and up the side of his neck, playfully nibbling along the way.

“And I am always right.” His fingers pinched Dream’s hip bones before descending lower, forcing Dream to bite back a jolt of surprise at the tickling sensation. Especially as Hob’s hands, stark in color against Dream’s milk-white flesh, began to caress the line of hairs that had begun to grow under his belly button as well.

Dream’s breath, another anomaly that he was fascinated by, hitched audibly as Hob’s fingers dipped just a fraction below the towel wrapped around him.

“I also quite enjoy this.” Hob murmured against his skin, watching Dream in the mirror’s reflection. “I love seeing your human qualities come out. How your body responds to it.”

Dream drops his hand to wrap around Hob’s wrist, meeting his chocolate brown eyes in the mirror as Hob takes a step to crowd Dream further against the counter, his hips slotting along Dream’s ass as he gets his clever fingers deeper, wrapping them around Dream and causing his jaw to drop in a silent cry.

Hob’s eyes flutter shut as he nuzzles his way up to Dream’s ear, bumping his nose against the coarse hairs at his jaw, biting it gently.

“Let me show you how much I love it.”

In response, Dream turns his head and captures Hob’s mouth in a burning kiss.

—----------------------------------

A few days go by and in that time, the scruff on Dream’s face only becomes longer, individual hairs popping up as far up as his cheek bones, and Dream scowls as they even begin to curl.

“I want it off.”

Hob looks sideways at Dream in the doorway to the bathroom. “What?”

Dream stands, that attractive frown only making Hob– who’d been trimming his own beard before the interruption– slowly begin to smile.

Dream points to his face.

Hob raises his brows as he gives Dream a once over.

“Your scruff?” Hob clicks his tongue as Dream huffs impatiently, affirmatively. “But it really does become you.”

“I do not care for it. Remove it.”

Hob chuckles lightly, turning back to the mirror to finish up his grooming.

“Always polite,” he quips lowly, tilting his chin as he works. “Give me a mo’ and in the meantime, take a shower.”

After Dream is clean and his skin is warm to the touch, Hob has him seated in a stool he pulled from the kitchen, keeping a warm towel around his face while Hob gathers his equipment.

Dream watches silently, his eyes tracking Hob’s movement before finally meeting his gaze as Hob drapes another small towel over Dream’s shoulder.

He removes the towel from Dream’s face and stares at him, causing Dream to raise a brow.

“What?”

Hob sighs, bringing both of his hands, cool from a fresh wash, around Dream’s face, thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“Just saying goodbye.”

Dream is unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes, another human trait that he’d been having a hard time tamping down.

“Perhaps once I am ‘used to it,’ as you say, I may consider growing it out again.”

Hob’s eyes seem to sparkle with excitement.

“Yeah?” At Dream’s nod, Hob gives his cheeks a brief squish, making the skin bunch up around Dream’s mouth and his frown deepen.

Hob laughs softly, the crinkles around his eyes deepening, striking Dream down and reminding him why he loved Hob so much. The laugh lines on his face, centuries of smiles and laughter etched onto his skin forever. A trait that made Dream himself smile more, enamored by the history there, in not just Hob’s laugh lines, but the wrinkles of his brow too. Years of hurt and frustration carved deep enough to leave memories that Dream could trace with his fingers, his lips. The stories Hob’s skin alone could tell made Dream want to trace constellations upon it.

Hob leaned forward and kissed the tip of Dream’s nose, breaking him out of his stupor. “I look forward to it.”

Dream had to admit, as Hob prepared him for his shave, that he quite enjoyed being pampered.

Hob had lathered a thick cream upon Dream’s cheeks, mouth, and neck with a horse hair brush, his eyes gone serious, gaze studious as he worked and Dream once again, could do nothing but watch, sitting still as Hob took up a blade and began carefully stroking it down the side of Dream’s face.

“A straight razor,” Hob spoke eventually, his voice quiet, hot breath puffing against Dream’s ear. “Is my favorite for a close shave.” He swipes the blade on the towel resting on Dream’s shoulder, cleaning it before going back in with short, sharp strokes.

“Never goes out of style…” Hob murmurs, his free hand pulling slightly on Dream’s skin to keep it taut. “Also doubles as a weapon, eh?”

He gives Dream a cheeky grin.

“Have you slit many throats using a straight razor, Hob Gading?” Dream makes sure to speak once the blade is safely away from his skin.

Hob hums, going back to Dream’s jaw, going with the grain of Dream’s hair.

“Sweeney Todd style?” Hob pulls back to give Dream a look. “Can’t say I have. Though, in other instances…” he trails off, not finishing his sentence, leaving Dream to guess the answer.

They are silent for a long while after that, the only sounds filling the air being the grazing of the blade against coarse hairs and Dream’s own breathing. It tickles Dream’s ears, the gentle vibrations of the blade, and he continues to study Hob to distract himself from the sensation.

There is an intimacy here that isn’t lost on Dream. The trust he places in Hob’s very capable hands. Hands that have seen violence, committed crimes most egregious. Hands that were calloused over from physical labor and then softened by wielding a pen. Dream was fascinated, watching how Hob’s fingers held the blade, sure and confident, bringing it down swiftly, a tame version of a sword.

All while performing something so… domestic. These hands had also healed and loved, touched Dream with such reverence, held him with gentle astonishment, as Hob admitted freely how lucky he was to have Dream in his life. Making love to him slow and deep, but also hard and brutal, fingers interlocked with Dream’s and holding him in place, keeping that connection.

And in this moment, with Hob’s hands touching him fastidiously, attention focused solely on him, Dream felt relaxed and safe, enjoying the experience more than he’d ever admit.

It was over far too soon, Hob taking up the towel to wipe off any remaining shave cream and instructing Dream to rinse his face with cold water.

Once dry, Hob massaged an after shave balm into Dream’s skin, catching his eyes and smiling almost shyly.

“You were very distracting, you know.” Hob says, pulling Dream to standing. “Watching me the whole blessed time.”

Dream’s head tilted a fraction as he brought a hand up to feel his smooth skin.

“I like watching you work.”

Hob huffed, his smile widening as he playfully tugged Dream’s hair.

“Go on, take a look,” he gestured behind Dream to the mirror.

Dream obliged, sweeping his gaze over the smooth skin he had been used to wearing his entire existence and hummed in approval.

“Next time,” Hob said, tossing the towel in the hamper. “I’ll properly show you how to shave, so you can do it yourself whenever you’d like.”

Dream hummed, contemplating.

“Or you could always do it.”

“Oh?” Hob chuckled, turning Dream around and getting his arms around his hips. “Figures a king would overindulge in my humble services.”

“And you indulge me so well,” Dream crooned in a low voice, feeling his lips curl in an unconscious smirk that always caught Hob off guard. It was his favorite thing to do, if Dream was being honest, causing Hob to hesitate and laugh.

“I think I’m just whipped.”

Dream nodded with a considerate hum, leaning forward to brush his lips against Hob’s.

“Good.”

#dreamling #hob x dream #retired dream #Mere your art always inspires ahhh!#this was so cute i just had to write... something #and im so glad because ive been in such a funk #also another (semi) canon fic from me??#who IS she??#my writing #uneedited of course lulz #hairy retired dream au

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