─── fem!reader, suggestive, yandereish thoughts, kinda dark
PIERROT's face burns in your hands — pupils dilated, focused where your heart beats: beneath your partially bare chest, button-up shirt open and bra exposed. He can almost taste the sweetness your flesh must hold between his teeth, how satisfying it would be to lick his fingers clean after devouring you whole — to tear your love out from beneath your ribs, to nestle into your final heartbeats and sigh your last breath. Yet, his yearning it's nothing more than a distant thought, murmured in the dead of night when his claws — sharp, lethal — trail across your skin, sliding from your collarbone to your chest, almost in a fragile touch, too afraid to even draw a single thread of blood, to stain the rest of your skin with such vivid red.
For now, PIERROT is content to have his own face held by you, your gentle palms against his mask, and to be able to listen to what keeps you alive.
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You were tired. Again and again this week the terrible blows have been adding up. From the studies you had started picking up again, to your part time job that was kicking your ass (metaphorically of course.) Life was tough, as it usually is, but it hurt since you had gotten the motivation a few weeks ago to get back on schedule and do what needs to be done for you besides sleeping when you had no work.
The only comforting constant and support during this time was your loving partner.
“Long day?” You hear a quiet rumble from the couch, looking up, you watch as he sets down the book (comically small in his hands) he was reading to give you his full attention, ears pricked up in your direction, you were sure he could even smell your exhaustion.
Your shoes slipped off like butter, flopping onto the floor sloppily as you trudged your way over to the comfy haven that is your boyfriend’s arms.
“Long week you mean..” you sigh as you melt into his warmth, nose deep into his fur to which he chuffs, amused.
“Oh you poor thing..” he teases lightly, nosing the top of your head affectionately, while a clawed hand alternates between rubbing and lightly scratching your back.
You don’t even banter back with him as you normally do, only sighing contentedly as you fight off sleep.
“You really are tired…” he muses softly.
“Don’t.” You interrupt, “you only have permission to be a good pillow for me.. and pillows don’t talk.”
“Yes ma’am” he chuckles, holding you closer.
Note: I’m back. I’ve been having a rough week lately, and my mind has drifted back to werewolves again.
Credit to @cursed-carmine for the dividers I used here! <3
Fashion designer in the Waking World, Queen Consort in the realm of dreams. While nurturing Morpheus' child and dwelling alongside him as his devoted wife, you yearned to leave the past behind and embark on this adventure with the love of your newfound immortal existence. However, when Destiny convened the entire family to herald an ominous prophecy, the ghosts you thought banished suddenly returned, hitting you with unparalleled force. As Morpheus contended with remorse regarding his previous transgressions, you maintained a delicate balance between your pregnancy, a marriage inevitably challenged by a former flame, and spilled family blood. Your worst nightmare was brought to life, threatening your happiness and the future of your unborn daughter. Nevertheless, your love held the capacity to transcend seemingly immutable cosmic laws, unveiling enigmatic revelations about your true identity—against the absolute and unbreakable.
Transformation didn't require leaving the island; it only demanded reimagining it. Like an hourglass that doesn't end with its final grain, but merely awaits being turned to start the journey again.
The sequel to my season 1 story Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings is about to come. And I'm seriously excited about it right now. Here you can find the summary (my apologies to newcomers as that contains a few spoilers).
UPDATE: The first chapter has been posted!
Zoro is not the overly-touchy and lovey-dovey kind of boyfriend.
He dislikes PDA and prefers to cuddle and hug you in private. When its just you two he will get affectionate and cuddle you. He is more physically affectionate than verbally since he is not very good with words so he makes up for it with his soft cuddles and kisses.
You reached over to grab your boyfriend's hand, only for him to pull away. You tilted you head in confusion as you looked up at him. His neck craned over just so his side profile would face you. Very subtle. His voice was just above a whisper, so only you could hear it. He would die if any of the crew would hear his soft side. His soft spot is only for you.
"Not in front of them" He whispered as he looked away. "Later".
After hanging out with the crew, he was completely different. His head was rested onto your chest and his arms were around your waist while you both cuddled on your shared bed. He was so clingy, he didn’t wanna let go. Every time you wanted to get up, he would gently grip onto you tighter, softly whispering in your ear that he NEEDED 5 more minutes. You didn't complain though. His beefy chest on top of yours was warmer than any fluffy blanket you have ever owned. Unlike his gruff demeanor he displayed to you when you were in front of the crew, he was gentle and soft as ever. Whining whenever you would try to pull away and praising and kissing you lovingly just for being there with him in the moment. Zoro certainly was not like the lovey-dovey kind of person; but he shows his affection in his own little moss ball Zoro way.
Die Bedrohung von ORI ist vorbei und das GHG-Team wieder vereint.
Aber kann so ein Kampf an allen Beteiligten ohne Spuren vorbeigehen?
Und hier sind wir... Die Story, die einfach nicht nur in meinem Kopf bleiben wollte und in unter 48h von der Idee zur geposteten Story wurde.
Was alles so passieren kann, wenn man von zu vielen Emotionen getrieben wird. Noty ist absolut Schuld, mit seiner Pausen/Retirement Ankündigung...
Es geht hauptsächlich um die Mentor - Mentee Beziehung zwischen Basti und Marcel und ist wirklich bittersüß. Mich hats einige Taschentücher gekostet.
Findet nach "Das Wichtigste auf dem Server" statt, aber ist evtl. nicht ganz konsistent, aber das weiß ich noch nicht mal, weil ich ja nicht weiß, wohin mich die Main-Story noch entführt, haha.
Lasst mich doch gerne wissen, wie es euch gefallen hat :)
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sometimes I do wonder if ill only come alive in late night achings
where the prowling thing under me claws its way easily around my chest like a friend and not like a monster
the things I ignore purring, whispering, "feel me, touch me, think about me, express me."
what good would that do? allowing the slithering, slick, inky ache come out? a neon no vacancy sign to flicker on. letting it all come into the lobby, slamming the bell on the front desk incessantly, "pay attention to me".
I hide under the front desk. my bed. a blanket made up of blue and green stars and moons. my invisibility cloak. derelict in duty. deserter. muttering incantations with my hands over my ears.
the ache grows.
shifting shapes again. 7, 4, 14, 21, 27. baby blonde hair. pink hair. cat scratches. bruised knees. blue jeans. broken. who will stick their head out for air when the air becomes too stifling and suffocating?
what weapon will I choose to quell it. a substance? sleep? indulging a memory of harm? the memory of the smell of the leather belt wounding itself around my neck? the scissors across my forearms and thighs? the acrid taste of bile in my mouth after I vomit vodka? The salt of my tears?
or darker than that? what do I do to when the things I lock away call my name so sweetly? caressing me, pulling me back into its grip? walking around the counter now. will it be her hand shooting to grip my throat like it did that night? will it be the white sneakers and a verbal lashing? will it be an ask to give myself away? always give myself away and away and away. or will it be the pervasive despondent darkness?
is there there any part of me left anymore? I mutter more incantations. tuck my starry cocoon under my feet further where it cant get me.
the ache grows and the no vacancy sign flickers off. the footsteps retreat. the bell ceases. I do not stick my head out of my cocoon. trap or sanctuary. indecisive and dreary.
In neuroscience, there has been a wellspring of new studies over the coarse of decades pertaining to the human brain that suggest it is the brain, the eyes, and the central nervous system which primarily generates reality: The bizarre science behind how our brains shape reality by Dr Lisa Feldman-Barrett, Neuroscientist to talk about how the brain creates reality by Sarah Eddy, etcetera.
to Micronesia, this concept is not new. It is a part of the CHamoru people's understanding of reality in non-duality:
[...] in the journal of Fray Juan Pobre de Zamora, who visited the nearby island of Rota in 1602. He relates an exchange that took place between his friend Sancho and some Chamorro elders. Sancho asked who had made the heavens, the earth, and the ocean (see Driver 1993: 23). From a European (also enchanted, although dualistic) perspective, Sancho expected the elders to say that God, the First Cause and Prime Mover, had created the world.
The Chamorros, however, thought the question was foolish. They replied that they themselves make the heavens by looking at them, the earth by tilling the fields, and the ocean by fishing and sailing on it. [...] the Chamorros had a different worldview: they understood that things have value and meaning when humans engage and work them. The object perceived depends on the perceiving subject to be the kind of thing it is, and the subject, in turn, is construed, at least in part, by standing in relationship with the object. The subject and the object are intertwined in a non-dual relationship that gives rise to a form of 'enchanted rationality'. [...] Micronesian cosmology is organized around the focal point of a center: the interaction and interpenetration of the bipolar opposites are harmonized by maintaining balance at the center. This is especially true of Micronesian navigation techniques. The navigator (fa'ulos) must continually negotiate his course from the center of the star compass as his position changes (Alkire 1972: 489).
SOURCE; Chants of Re-enchantment: Chamorro Spiritual Resistance to Colonial Domination by D. S. Farrer, James D. Sellmann / Social Analysis: The International Journal of Anthropology, Vol. 58, No. 1, WAR MAGIC AND WARRIOR RELIGION: SORCERY, COGNITION, AND EMBODIMENT (SPRING 2014), pp. 127-148 (22 pages)
I think that the ancient CHamoru people were wise beyond their years. They had their own proto-science which combined spirit (ancestral worthship, spiritism) and matter (herbalism, healing, chants/music, etc.)(hence why the spanish named our healers and magicians "cirujano," meaning surgeon, which was adopted by CHamoru via the Suruhånu/Suruhåna). And this understanding of non-duality is still intuitive among indigenous Micronesians.
For example, the belief that spirit and matter are one; there is no distinction between these realities. There is no veil. Time and space exists as one, and so does all of reality. While duality found in nature-reality is recognized as sacred and perceivable, its inherent unity and interrelatedness ultimately represented non-duality. It can be allegorical to the ocean, in which Micronesians are ancestrally connected to: it is a coalescence of life, in which all life forms and elements are intrinsically interconnected and interrelated in accordance with the nature of the sea (and subsequently the "cosmic ocean", which Micronesians call the Sky Dome or Sky World).
One more bonus snippet from Pages and Petals - with my favorite title that you also see on my tumblr blog~
The innocent childhood of the protagonist, the last days before the disgrace of house Tse ...
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Sweltering heat came down from the sun high in the sky, accompanied by the deafening sounds of crickets in the field. Only the silence in the house was more oppressive when An Ju stood by the main entrance and peeked into the estate of her mother's family.
The young girl, who had stuck out her tongue in concentration, stood on tiptoes as she peeked past the pillars. She could get to her room unseen. She only needed to hug the far right wall in the shadows and then take the turn towards the inner court before she would reach her room.
She would only need to be very careful. The lack of servants and the deathly silence spoke of her grandmother's mood. An Ju really did not want to be seen by her like this. Not after having missed a lesson by forgetting the time. She had run back now, leaving her younger cousins outside to keep on playing, but it still was already too late.
Taking a deep breath, the girl began her venture.
As long as she didn't make too much sound, no one would—
She tripped.
It took a moment for her to catch herself from the stumble. Her lips were tightly pressed onto each other to not let a sound escape.
Only when she had found her footing again did An Ju twirl around to see what she tripped over.
There was nothing.
An Ju squinted her eyes. A moment later, she noticed one of the talismans against intruders stuck on one of the plants.
A defeated sigh escaped the girl's lips. No wonder there was no servant near the main entrance. They were all warned against the trap.
"Well?" Matriarch Dou's voice floated from the main hall towards the main entrance.
Contrite, An Ju folded her hands how it befit a young lady and went to greet her grandmother. She hoped it would hide her muddied nails and dirty hands. But considering how her dress had gotten stiff with dried sludge, there was not much to be done.
Inside the main hall, only the matriarch of the Dou family was sitting. As she was drinking tea, two servants stood on the side, ready to attend her. With just a short look at her granddaughter, the stern woman took a sip from her tea. "Do you know what you did wrong?"
Her voice was calm. She rarely raised it in volume, but each word was punctuated and bore gravity.
An Ju squeezed her folded hands. At least none of the rest of the family - neither her parents nor aunts and uncles - were around to chime in on the scolding. So, she needed to confess and be as truthful as possible. That was the best way to appease her grandmother.
"I went out to play with the little ones after breakfast and forgot that I had a lesson scheduled today. Also, while chasing a kite, I slipped on the road and fell into one of the rice fields. I've fixed the damage I caused with the workers but that made me be even tardier."
The matriarch put down her tea bowl with an audible clink. "To think your parents even went through the trouble of finding you a teacher here in the countryside so that you won't be lagging behind. Is that how a young lady behaves, Tse An Ju?"
The girl lowered her gaze. "No, grandma."
"You're almost a young woman now, An Ju," her grandmother continued. "You'll be participating in the Blossom Pageant next year - ready to be presented to His Majesty, the king! You can't keep on going out to play like a child!"
"I understand, grandma." An Ju really did. As the daughter of a household where both spouses came from prestigious family lines and growing up in the capital, she was well aware of what society expected of her. But at the same time, this was her summer retreat, and she loved her cousins too much to not be playing with them. There was no way for her to run beneath the endless sky like this in the capital.
As if knowing exactly her granddaughter's thoughts, the stern woman sighed. "Hands," she demanded as she rose from her seat.
Surprised, An Ju looked up. When she saw that her grandmother grabbed a stick from the servants, she pressed her lips onto each other in fear. Still, she obediently held out her hands with the palms up. She had messed up this time and her grandmother was no one who left misdeeds unpunished.
The three hits came in quick succession. Despite her advanced age, Matriarch Dou was still nimble and strong.
Tears stung in An Ju's eyes as her hands burned from the hits.
"This was for damaging the rice fields. You were able to fix it but that was luck. It could have ended up worse and you cannot bear the responsibility of depraving some household of food for this winter. You know harvest has been bad."
"Yes, grandma," An Ju replied as calmly as possible. Yet, the tears that welled up threatened to spill over. Considering the possibility that she could have caused misery for someone due to her carelessness hurt her more than the hits.
The matriarch sighed a second time. She returned the stick to her servants before she took her granddaughter's hands. Massaging them gently, she spoke again: "As one of the richer households in the area and blessed with magic on top, we have a responsibility to our neighbors. It does not matter if it was on purpose or not, once something goes wrong, people will blame us first. So don't give them a reason to bear a grudge against you."
"Yes, grandma," were the only words that An Ju could repeat.
Her grandmother did not use magic but her cool fingers did alleviate some of the pain. The soft skin did not shy away from touching the girl's dirty hands.
Only when the throbbing in An Ju's hands stopped and the fiercely held back tears had dried agai , did her grandmother let go again.
"And now, go apologize to your grandfather."
An Ju opened her mouth. She had thought that the punishment was done. But when she looked up and saw that the matriarch was serious, she meekly walked over to the family altar.
Kneeling down on the cushion, she watched one of the servant bringing over a incense stick. It was not the large one. This one would only last an hour. It was still an hour.
"Apologize properly," was what Matriarch Dou said when she lit the incense stick.
An Ju could only nod as her grandmother left the room.
This was the worst punishment for her. It was not the kneeling. It was not how her knees would feel afterwards. It was the boredom.
She could tell her plaques of her grandfather and ancestors stories about her day. But even if she did, it would not be enough to let the time pass quickly.
More than once had the girl already fallen asleep while kneeling, only to be met with additional time on top of the incense stick. Her family knew that this was the best punishment against her.
So, An Ju only had to push through the hour. She recounted story in her mind. She counted the time. She tried to remember some songs as she kneeled there. She watched the ashes of the incense fall down piece by piece.
The very moment the incense burned down, the girl jumped up. "I'm free!" she shouted excitedly. Only to be met by a servant clearing her throat who was cleaning nearby.
"Sorry," An Ju whispered, then ran out of the main hall.
When she arrived in her room, she noticed that her parents, some servants, and even her grandmother were there. Most of her things were packed, except for one fresh set of clothing laid out next to a basin with fresh water.
"Oh? We're already leaving today?" she asked as her mother waved her over to finally clean her up.
As her mother pushed a wet cloth into her face to clean it, she answered: "Yes. Your grandmother says it will be raining tonight. If we leave soon, we can still reach your other grandparents this evening. Then the horses and wagon won't have to pull through the mud."
An Ju's father nodded eagerly, before he turned to his mother-in-law: "Thank you for your hospitality as always, mother. It is always a great pleasure to see you in such good health."
"And it is always lovely to welcome you, Tse Chang Ping. Thank you for taking care of my Seon Ha. Send the Tse household my regards."
"I will."
Tse Chang Ping smiled and then left the room as his wife shooed him out so that their daughter could change clothes.
As Seon Ha took care of the dress, Matriarch Dou stepped over to comb An Ju's hair to make her look proper again. While she did so, she gently murmured: "It was a good summer with you. I do hope I won't see you troublemaker here next year anymore, though."
"Grandma, that's mean!" An Ju shrieked. But she laughed and at the nod from her mother that she was finished, the girl turned around and wrapped her hands around her grandmother. "I will miss you greatly if I can't see you every summer!"
Those words made the matriarch laugh, too. She bowed down and pulled her granddaughter in a warm embrace. "May you always walk under the Sky, my dearest. Bring honor to the Tse and Dou families."
That was the greatest blessing Matriarch Dou could give her granddaughter for at that time, for everyone, the only reason for An Ju to not come back to the countryside was her being chosen as a candidate to become one of the king's wives at the next Blossom Pageant.
None of them would have expected for this to be the last time An Ju had ever stepped into the Dou household again.
