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"but physical media is worse quality and will break with time" I DON'T CARE! I WANT TO OWN THINGS I LIKE! I WANT SHELVES FULL OF DVDS, CDS, AND A LIBRARY!
Friendly reminder that antis opinions aren’t the law. Big name fandom accounts aren’t the law either. They aren’t worth shit. You do not need their validation, approval or their permission to keep enjoying your favorite show, characters, ships or whatever. To hell with what others think, don’t let their negativity ruin your enjoyment of the things you like
Summary: An offer you once spurned is surprisingly offered once more.
Tags: angst, pregnancy
Series Masterlist
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“And you shall rule by my side,” he assured your sleeping form. Your breathing had slowed, your chest rising and falling gently as his fingers traced lovingly over your lips, your cheekbones, your nose, your eyes. “And all the realm shall prosper from your gracious rule,” he vowed. “And all in existence shall envy me for having the most devoted queen,” he smiled softly, as you leaned into his touch, even in your deep slumber.
You had thrown him out then. With tears blurring your eyes and sobs rasping your voice, you screamed for him to leave you and never return. So he did. Days passed without any sign of him, and as those days turned to a full week, the pain of his absence cut you as deeply as it had then, in the first days of your estrangement.
Centuries of separation had dulled the pain, but after the way he held you so dearly, after basking in the warmth of his love once more, you found the ache as raw as ever. And as you lay in your bed without his comforting touch, you placed your arm over your waist and could almost feel his arm underneath yours, squeezing you in a protective embrace. Almost.
But this separation was your doing, you realized. He had begged you to let him honor the promises he had once made you, but you had spurned his offer. He offered to do whatever it took to hold you again, but you threw him out and demanded he never see you again. And as you lay in your bed, where he had held you so dearly, tears spilled from yours eyes as you realized you may have rebuffed the chance to regain the future you once dreamt of together.
The depressing realization didn’t debilitate you for long though, as a knock at your door caught your attentions.
“Lucienne,” you breathed, your brow creasing as you opened to the door to find the librarian.
“Good morning, my lady,” she greeted you with a smile and a curt bow, before her voice dropped low and careful as she glanced to your midsection. “How are you feeling?”
A short breath of indignity left you at her overly gentle tone. “I suppose he’s told everyone,” you muttered, before crossing your arms against your chest.
“Of course he has,” she breathed, as her head tilted. “He’s far too excited to keep it to himself,” she added, with a smile.
“He is?” You wondered softly, your angered gaze softening at her surprising words. And as your distant gaze returned to hers, you caught sight of the files in her hands. “What’s all that?”
“These are civil disputes,” she explained, as she adjusted her glasses. You narrowed your eyes at the motion: it was a slight tell, one that the librarian only displayed in tense moments. “Land disputes, civil complaints, and such from across the realm.”
You could tell how nervous she was to announce the reason for her visit, so you decided to assist her with a question. “And why have you come to my door with them?” You wondered in a leading tone, with a tilted head.
“Lord Morpheus has asked that you see to them,” she answered quickly, before pursing her lips and glancing shortly at you.
“Why?”
“Perhaps that’s a question best answered by him, my lady.”
“We’re not speaking.”
“Well,” she began, and you pursed your lips as you watched her adjust her glasses again. “Something must have happened between you two for him to ask that you tend to this.”
She looked to you expectantly and as your lips parted in realization, her brows rose infinitesimally.
“Thank you, Lucienne,” you blinked back, before taking the files from her. “I’ll review these and offer my judgments,” you smiled, before bidding her a good day.
A deep breath escaped your lungs as you forced your knuckles to rap against the door. The momentarily silence hitched your breath in the hope that he wasn’t there and you could retreat to your chambers to abandon this entire plan. But his voice came low and measured through the door, beckoning you inside.
So you entered his study with slow steps, your fingers tapping nervously against the pages in your hands as you pressed your lip tightly between your teeth.
His gaze rose from the pages before him at the sound of steady footsteps. But when you entered his vision, his lips parted and he stood in reverent awe at the sight of you. He had been deprived of you for a week and with the glow your pregnancy afforded you, he couldn’t help but watch you with parted lips and a fixed gaze.
“How have you been?” He breathed, before his eyes dipped to your midsection. “How’s –”
“I’m sure the physicians keep you apprised of all of that,” you interrupted, with a lowered gaze. With everything this gesture of his could mean, you needed to separate his concern for your child from the affection he may still hold for you.
“They do,” he confirmed. “But only of your health,” he explained, peering up at you. “I know nothing of your mood or simply how you’re feeling and,” he paused then, wondering whether he should let slip his true concern. “It would relieve me greatly to know that you’re alright.”
“I miss you,” you wanted to tell him. “I miss you so terribly I can no longer stand it.” But something in you wouldn’t let the tender words past your lips.
“I’m alright, Dream,” you confirmed, softly, and your expression softened at the way your admission slacked his shoulders. “Especially after you lowered the temperature of my chambers,” you added, with a small upturn of your lip.
“Of course,” he breathed, his relief turning his lip, as well. “If there’s anything else you need,” he began.
“I know,” you nodded, with a polite smile. You cleared your throat, eager to redirect the conversation from the warm topic that threatened to elicit more tender words you weren’t ready to utter. “Lucienne brought these civil disputes to my chambers,” you began, lifting the files to his view. “I’ve looked through them and have some recommendations.”
“I’m certain your recommendations are wise and just,” he nodded. “Whatever you feel appropriate, you may implement.”
“Just like that?” You frowned, at the sweeping control he granted you. “You don’t wish to look through my proposals or discuss them beforehand?”
His breath hitched at your latter suggestion: the thought of discussing this, or anything, with you after suffering this past week without you was far too tempting. But this gesture was meant not only to offer you the responsibility your position was always meant to hold, but to show how he trusted you with the realm.
“If you’d like,” he decided, his eyes alight with the possibility of more time with you. “But I have no doubt you have carefully considered each case and arrived at a fair ruling.” He watched your uncertain eyes, the way your frown softened but remained, and decided to drop the formality of his diplomatic words to offer his unbridled faith in you. “You’ve always been close with the dreamfolk and you understand their needs on such a fundamental level. And your abilities as goddess of virtue has left you a great judge of character and with a keen mind for justice and fairness.”
You listened to his reverent words, his deferential praise of you and your abilities, and you couldn’t help but stare at him, speechless.
“I – Thank you, Dream,” you breathed, his words rendering you a stuttering, blinking mess. “But I’d still like to discuss some of these cases with you, if you have the time, of course.”
“Certainly,” he agreed, before gesturing to the seat beside you.
You took the seat and dove headfirst into a dispute between two settlers of the Eastern Villages. The more you spoke about a topic outside the two of you, the easier you found it to speak to him. You were simply two heads of government discussing the best way to serve their people.
So of course when the files had all been reviewed and your judgments accepted by him, you found nothing left to speak about. And you were faced with two options: you could discuss the true reason he had sent Lucienne to your door with these disputes, or you could leave. But as the quiet settled and he looked expectantly to you, you swallowed thickly as you realized you didn’t want to leave just yet.
“I know why you did this,” you began. Your gaze remained low, unable to watch him as you delivered the delicate words. “It’s one of the promises you made me on our wedding night: that I shall rule by your side.”
“I – I thought you had fallen asleep by then,” he frowned, before continuing softly. “I hadn’t thought you heard me. I had always planned to relegate such duties to you in the time after our wedding, but –”
“That night in Faerie happened,” you finished, sniffling harshly at the brutal memory.
“And I destroyed any chance of delivering on that or any other promise I made to you,” he sighed. He peered at you for a moment, watching the hurt way you swallowed thickly and kept your eyes to the floor, before rising from behind his desk to stand before you. “I’ve asked this before, and should you refuse, I shall never again raise the issue,” he decided, kneeling before you. “Would you give me the chance to honor every promise I’ve made you?”
You peered down at him for a moment before your gaze fell away and your lips parted with a denial he couldn’t bear to hear. So he reached for your hands, and as he held them delicately, he continued.
“And, should my attempts to earn your love back fail, I shall never take another lover. I vow that should you remain stranded and heartbroken, then I shall suffer the same fate as you.”
“You would?” You breathed.
“You said you suffered those same centuries without me,” he explained, softly. “That our punishments were equal, but they weren’t. You had no one to care for you in all that time. No one to love you,” he breathed, his thumbing brushing gently over your knuckles. “While I took Calliope, you had no one. So if you grant me this chance and I fail to earn your love, I will ensure that this time, our suffering will be equal: if you remain without a love, then so shall I.”
The steady cadence of his voice, the unwavering look in his eye as he made this promise to you, the comforting feel of his hands around yours: it all spelled honesty in the best way. But you couldn’t seem to dislodge one nagging question.
“Why now?” You wondered, as you pulled your hands from his hold to cross your arms. “Why, after the death of your son have you come to make amends with me? You told me you wanted another child after Orpheus died. So did you simply want another child or did you want to make amends with me by fulfilling this promise you made me centuries ago?”
He considered your question, his eyes falling from yours as he considered the best way to broach this truth.
“In the wake of his death, I found myself reconsidering every instance in which I had failed him. I hadn’t realized how many there were,” he breathed. “But underneath it all, underneath every mistake was the same lurking reason: it was always meant to be you. I was never meant to be with Calliope. And perhaps Orpheus’ death was simply the Fates’ way of correcting what never should have been.”
“Dream!” You rushed, before reaching to pull at his hands. “You mustn’t think like that!” You scolded lightly, with a firm squeeze as you peered down at him. “People aren’t things that are meant to be or not meant to be. They simply are. Whether your son was meant to be or not, is not the question! All that matters is that he was. He was here and he brought you great joy, Dream. And that is what you must hang onto, instead of ruminating on the unknowable workings of fate.”
And the corners of his lips turned in a wistful smile at the way your words soothed the aching loss of his son and the guilt that ate at him.
“You always know what to say to me,” he sighed. “When the news of his death left me in such great pain, it was your arms I longed for. Not Calliope’s,” he confessed. “I knew she could not comfort me the way you would. Because I never loved her the way I loved you. And she could never love me as you once did.”
“And yet you still sought a life with her,” you scoffed, before sliding your hands out from around his to cross your arms against your chest.
“You told me long ago to settle for a life with Calliope because I would never again have one with you.”
“So this is my fault?” You breathed, incensed. “It’s my fault that you decided to bed another woman after what you did to me?!”
“No,” he sighed. “I took your words to heart and abandoned you to start a life with Calliope. I told myself that I had abandoned you to start a life with Calliope because it was what you wanted, but in fact, I was furious that you had rejected me. That you would choose a lifetime of loneliness rather than return to me.”
Your lips pursed to a bitter smile as you nodded your understanding.
“And that’s why you made love to her in our bed,” you breathed, with a spiteful chuckle. “You were enraged by my denial, so you thought you’d retaliate by quite literally having her take my place.”
And the breath he didn’t need rushed out of him then, as he looked to you with wide eyes and parted lips.
“You didn’t know I was there,” you realized, slowly.
“No,” he whispered, peering at you in silent devastation.
“I honestly thought you had done it on purpose,” you breathed, blinking as you reconsidered the event. “That you wanted me to see it.”
“No,” he breathed, and his throat bobbed at thought that you had seen him like that. With her. And even more devastatingly, that you believed he had meant for you to see such a violation of his word to you. “I know how much that would have hurt you, and I would never have done that,” he tried to assure you, but all you could do was let out another bitter chuckle.
“That’s exactly why I thought you had done it,” you explained. “I don’t think I’d ever wept as much as I did that night,” you added with uncomfortable breath of laughter. “Not even after that night in Faerie,” you added, wiping quickly at your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and as he swallowed thickly to clear his aching throat, his eyes stung at the thought of you weeping in your bed. “I’m sorry you witnessed that. That I did that to you.”
He tried to prepare himself for anything: you to burst into tears once more, scream at him again, run out of his study, but he hadn’t expected you to simply stare at him with a furrowed brow.
“I – You, You just apologized,” you breathed. “To me,” you realized, as you turned your head in a suspicious glance. “You’ve never apologized to me.”
“Perhaps I should apologize for that as well,” he sighed, before his gaze dipped low with centuries-worth of shame. “There aren’t apologies enough for my actions that night in Faerie. And I don’t believe forgiveness possible for how I’d hurt you that night, or in the days after, but I never should have spoken to you that way. I never should have laid my hands upon you in anything other than love and reverence. The way you looked at me then, with such fear and hurt,” he breathed, and you watched as the memory of that night played in his mind. You watched his eyes shut against the memory of your fear-stricken form and his throat bob at the way you had tried to pry his hands off of you. “It has never stopped haunting me,” he admitted in a shaky breath.
You witnessed the pain he felt now at that memory, but you couldn’t let go of the pain he had caused you since that night.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did that night,” you decided. “The vile, obscene things you said to me that night and the following morning have cut me every day since. And the way you grabbed me that night,” you paused, as a shaky breath escaped you. “I have never felt such fear before, Morpheus. I had never expected someone I love as much as you to hurt me in such a way,” you admitted, your gaze fixed at his feet as you couldn’t bear to look up at him. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I love you far too much, Dream. You were right, when you came to my chambers thirty years after that night: I can’t bear to be without you,” you admitted, your gaze dipping from his as you rose from your seat and turned from him before continuing.
He watched your turned back and the way your fingers reached out to trace along the bookshelf before you. You had admitted to loving him, but your remorseful tone and the way you turned from him now dropped any hope he had that you might return to him.
“I had come to our chambers one night, days after that conversation, to beg you take me back. I had come to swallow my pride, to ignore everything I knew was right, everything I held sacred, just to hold you again,” you confessed, and you didn’t bother to wipe away the tears. After all, you knew that wouldn’t be the last of them. “And then I saw her underneath you. In our bed. In the position I had come to so pitifully beg for. And I was… grateful.”
His head rose at your unexpected word.
“I had almost given up on what I believed in. What I was revered for. I watched you desecrate everything I stood for, watched you commit the atrocity you had accused me of, what you vowed you would never do to me,” you paused then, as you recalled his vow to want no one other than you. “And I realized that I didn’t want you anymore,” you continued, letting a deep breath soothe your aching throat. “How could I want someone who held no respect for me or what I stood for? And if you never cared enough to respect me, to respect what I am, how could you even love me?”
“But I do love you,” he cried, softly.
You watched him peer up at you with teary eyes, and yours narrowed as you caught something shift in him. “Maybe now, maybe you’ve changed,” you nodded. “But not then,” you breathed. “I think you just wanted me. That I intrigued you, fascinated you in a way that you wanted to keep. And when I denied you, when I told you this wouldn’t work, it only made you want me more. You knew that I could have only one lover, one person for all time, and you wanted that to be you. To prove that you, Dream of the Endless, could have someone so elusive, so particular.”
“Your words, painful as they may be to hear, may be accurate,” he realized, and your gaze rose from the bookshelf before you as he admitted to his err. “Your denial did shift something in me. It did led me to seek you more. But not because of your elusiveness. Not because you were some prize to be held. But because I was afraid to lose you. You were so convinced that our love wouldn’t last and I couldn’t bear the thought. And that night in Faerie, the thought of losing you to someone else,” he sighed, his eyes shutting against the image of you in Oberon’s salacious hold. “Even an act as unlikely as that, unnerved me to the point of hurting you. But I treated you as something that could be taken from me. Instead of someone who wanted to be with me,” he realized. “Someone who loved me so dearly that she would never love anyone else. I should have trusted that you could never be swayed to leave me when you cared so deeply for me.”
“Yes,” you sniffled harshly. “You should have.”
His hand went to your shoulder then, wordlessly begging you to face him once more. And you could almost hear his words from the other night. From the night you conceived your child: “Could I see you this time?”
So you turned to him then, with your gaze low and his watching you carefully.
“And I’m sorry that I didn’t. That I in turn broke your trust and your heart anew with my affair with Calliope. I’m certain that all the unfulfilled and broken promises I’ve made you have rendered my words meaningless, but I do regret everything I’ve done to you,” he admitted, his fingers grazing yours gently. “Every way I’ve hurt you. My wife, my love,” he breathed brokenly, as his hand went to the side of your face.
It was yet another bold move, yet another touch he couldn’t help, and yet another caress you melted into. You leaned into his hand, your eyes shutting at the warmth of his touch and you had almost forgotten how your face seemed to fit perfectly into his hand.
“I’ve waited ages for you to say these words to me, Dream,” you whispered, as your hand moved to lay over the one he had at the side of your face. And he swallowed thickly as he felt warm saltwater drip against his palm. His thumb moved quickly to brush the rest from falling, as you continued. “I never thought you would,” you remarked, sadly. “But the way you held me the other day, the way you spoke of our time together, how you still hope that our entwined future still lies ahead of us? I finally let myself hope that it could be true,” you admitted, before opening your teary eyes to peer up at him.
But the promises he made to you on the beaches of the Dreaming flashed in your mind then. And as you recalled how his oaths had won you over and tied you to him for all of existence, you couldn’t help but think how similar this moment now was to that one.
“But I can’t let myself believe it,” you decided, before pulling his hand from your face. “I can’t let myself go on with you in good faith. I can’t believe a word you say to me,” you scoffed. “To violate an oath to a goddess of oaths is,” you paused, desperately trying to find the adequate words. “Something akin to heresy. And to ask her then to believe your oaths afterwards? That is the definition of foolish, Dream. I do believe you wish to make amends. And perhaps you even wish to fulfill your oaths to me. But I shall never love you until I believe that your word can be trusted. That you deserve to be held, to be loved, by someone who is held sacred for the very thing.”
“Then I shall prove to you that my word can be trusted,” he vowed. “That I am worthy of your love.”
Surprisingly, despite your rejection of him, another set of files appeared with Lucienne at your door the next day. You thanked her with a polite smile and returned to your chambers to peruse the new set. There were civil disputes, similar to those from yesterday’s set, but today, you found regional expansion plans and even a proposal for a new dream. He was no longer asking you only to settle civil matters, but to offer him your advice on new endeavors in the realm. To join him in shaping the future of the Dreaming. And you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.
He paced his study nervously. There was no other word for it, really. He had made several laps of the small space, his fingers twitched at his sides, and he had glanced at the door so many times he was certain he had memorized every grain of wood that comprised the entrance.
Yet your knock hadn’t sounded. It was half an hour past when you had arrived with the reviewed files yesterday, and he had expected you to enter his study any moment now. So he made another lap before deciding to appear nonchalant by sitting behind his desk and looking over some papers he had already reviewed.
Of course, his nonchalance dissipated completely at the sound of a knock. His breath hitched and his eyes shot to the door, before he took a moment to gather himself.
“Come in,” he called out, before studying the papers in his hand with a forced intensity.
“My lady asked that I drop these off with you,” Lucienne announced, before approaching him with the files in hand.
“Oh,” he murmured, before taking them from her. He flipped through the cases and proposals, attempting indifference, but the way his throat bobbed and the dejection laced in his words gave him away. “I thought she might come to deliver them herself.”
“Perhaps she wasn’t feeling up to it, sir,” she offered, with a sympathetic smile.
His attentions turned to her then, his indifferent façade melting at the thought that you may be unwell. “Is she alright?”
“Oh, no, my lord,” she rushed, as she realized her words’ misinterpretation. “She seems fine,” she explained, and a relieved breath slacked his shoulders and pulled the intense concern from his eyes. “I simply meant that perhaps reviewing the files and making her notes were effort enough without adding a meeting to her schedule.”
“I see,” he nodded, before turning his attentions back to your revisions. “Thank you, Lucienne. That will be all,” he dismissed her, but his eyes remained on the short flicks of your handwriting next to his, the graceful flair and delicate loops next to his concise, but stark writing. And as his pale fingers traced over the words you had left, a faint smile ghosted his face.
The weeks had turned to a proper month, but Dream always found himself in his study at the same time each day, waiting for you to appear. Each day he was met with the disappointment of Lucienne’s knock as she entered his study with the files you had reviewed in her hands, but he continued to wait in his study nonetheless.
He let his fingers trace along the ink of your remarks regarding the final proposal in today’s batch, smiling softly at the thought of you seated at your desk as you reviewed each case with the diligence and care he knew you held for the realm. But his smile faltered as he felt another paper with a different heft to it. The color of it was slightly off as well, but he didn’t pay much attention to its hue when the paper’s message was far more interesting:
“Would you care to meet me for dinner tonight?”
His eyes traced over the single line over and over, until his once faltering smile had stretched to a proper one.
You rubbed your wrist nervously as you glanced from the table to the moon that hung just over you. The night air was unusually warm, which only confirmed Dream’s attendance and eased your breath. Taramis had been kind enough to help you select the dishes for tonight, and the palace staff to arrange it all on a modest table on the veranda overlooking the wisteria gardens.
The metal table was bathed in moonlight now, far brighter than one would expect at this hour, and you consoled yourself with that fact. So your grip on your wrist loosened, and you released your bottom lip from your teeth as you reminded yourself that he would be here. That he had accepted your proposal and would keep his word to meet you here tonight.
“Am I late?” He wondered, as he approached the table. He watched your hand fall away from your wrist as you turned to him.
“No!” You rushed. “I’m early,” you explained with a smile. But it faltered as you followed his gaze to your belly. You were barely showing, a slight curve to your belly that was unnoticeable to anyone but him. “I suppose I’ll be quite large in a few months,” you frowned, as your hands pressed against the side of your belly, feeling where your skin would soon start to stretch.
“You’ll still look perfect,” he assured you, and you looked up at him to find his eyes aglow at the sight of you.
And a blushing smile turned your lips and warmed your face at his sweet assurances. Your eyes slid to your seat then, eager to break free of his adoring gaze. He followed your cue, taking his seat only after you were comfortably seated.
“It’s been quite some time now, and I thought perhaps we should speak,” you decided, as your fingers traced nervous lines over the table.
“Certainly,” he agreed, before frowning at the way your fingers tapped along the edge of the table. Perhaps you were just as nervous as he. “May I ask how you’ve been?”
“I’m fine,” you smiled, politely. Your gaze dipped then, as you forced yourself to offer more than the simple, bland platitude. “I have been rather consumed lately by tiny pink dresses and impossibly small white sandals,” you admitted, with a giddy laugh.
The sound of your joy was soothing balm to his worried soul, but your words sent his heart soaring as he found himself speechless for a moment.
“A girl?” He breathed a soft laugh of disbelief, and your attentions were pulled from the patterns you were tracing on the table.
“Did the physicians not tell you?” You wondered, frowning at his unawareness.
“No, I had wanted it to be a surprise,” he explained, and your lips parted in dread as you realized what you had ruined.
“I – I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you rushed, leaning forward anxiously. His lips still curved to a smile, but you couldn’t help but worry you had ruined this for him.
He watched your fingers tense, your nails digging into the metal surface, and he placed his hand over yours in a gentle touch that eased you.
“It’s alright,” he soothed, and he smiled as he felt your anxious fingers relax under his touch. “We’re having a girl,” he repeated, testing the words out with a soft, shaky breath.
“Who will have a rather extensive array of frilly pink dresses from the day she’s born,” you added with a barely contained smile, fully aware of his aversion to the bright, lively color. You watched intently as his lips press to a thin line, before he nodded shortly.
“If you wish,” he agreed, and you narrowed your eyes slightly as you decided to push a little further.
“And nowhere in that vast array shall be a black dress,” you decided. “For black is a lifeless, boring color unfit for a child or anyone with an ounce of life to them.”
You watched the gears turn in his head, the way he forced himself to bite his defensive words back and offer a more diplomatic response. “Perhaps ‘lifeless’ is a bit strong,” he replied, and you stifled the giggle that threatened to escape you at his thinly veiled offense.
“Hmm, it is the color most associated with death and emptiness,” you hummed in disagreement. “And it isn’t a color you see most children in,” you added, before uncovering the first platter and serving him and yourself.
“Well, she won’t be ‘most children,’” he countered, as he lifted the plates to assist you. “The daughter of a goddess and an Endless will certainly have the grace and elegance to dress outside of the norm of ‘most children.’”
“I suppose,” you conceded, with your smile no longer containable. “But I’m certain she’ll take after her mother in that regard,” you decided, before picking up your fork. “And most others,” you teased.
But his eyes seemed to dim as your words returned an earlier fear to him: that you would keep her with you at all times, and in your avoidance of him, he wouldn’t be able to see her.
“Will you let me see her?” He wondered, and your fork slipped from your hand. “Regularly, at least?”
“Dream!” You scolded in a sharp whisper, before reaching for his hands. “Whatever transpires between us, I will always allow you to see her. To spend time with her. Whenever you’d like, however often you’d like. Every day, even. I’d never keep her from you, Dream,” you assured him, before interlacing your fingers with his. Your eyes dipped bashfully then, as you forced the tender words you meant to utter in his study the other day. “And, if she’s anything like her mother, she’ll need you. She’ll need to see you all the time, every day. And she’d miss you terribly when she doesn’t,” you admitted, softly.
“Well, she can see me whenever she’d like,” he assured you, playing along with the way you hid behind your daughter’s needs before adjusting his grip to squeeze your hands. “And she’ll know that I miss her and her mother dearly, and I long for the day I earn her mother’s love back.”
What is the royal stance on Furbies? Especially of the long variety?
Perfection.
The ultimate evolution of the Furby is the long one, the one I admire the most.
If I was to be given a long Furby, long enough to wrap itself around my castle, I would do unspeakable, sinful things.
Wear what ever the one who brings me such a gift desires, do what ever it is that they demand out of me...
- The casting of his family was 10/10. They really went through the effort of casting people who look blood-related even for a very short scene. They didn't go through those lengths for Kara's family, who look a bit odd together. So the Knoll family really stood out for me.
- I don't know how he managed to get his name so high in the credits for such a small role (because apparently that's something actors actually fight for I heard?) Was it in order of apparition past the main stars? Or maybe he simply has a good agent. Idk.
- His character (Elias Knol) has a lot of wasted potential. His craft is appreciated and his swords coveted (I mean it's kind of the whole reason why his family gets in trouble and Ruthye's sword keeps being stolen throughout the film) but we don't explore it further unfortunately. Why are his swords so exceptional that a group of villains who collect insane weapons go through the trouble of landing on his planet to steal them? Plus the villain tells us himself that he knows how to make his own weapons (with kryptonite of all things) so why bother? I guess we'll never know. But I wouldn't mind a bonus scene about it... Give my guy some additional screentime please.
- He was in a flashback towards the end but it was so fast I didn't catch it.
- They gave him a super deep voice in the french dubbing and it threw me off a bit
my senior english teacher told me that any scene with a woman in a cornfield in every piece of literature ever is about her journey to womanhood/pleasuring herself in the field and i just.... believed her
cock warming but they press a vibrator to your clit, making you cum over and over and over again until they end up cumming from the sensation of your muscles pulsing and spasming around them alone.
