#// i need to admit to myself that it ain't gonna get written

[inkmimicry]

"Trope talk!" Tell me more about your weasels. And Rod.

Grew Beyond Their Programming -- Slimy wasn't just drawn to be gross and off-putting physically - his personality was meant to embody that too. He was meant to be well, slimy --- untrustworthy, petty, sneaky, Willing to go behind people's back. When he leaps from the page, he is gruff, with little humour, and once he joins up with Rod and Francis and the gang, he gains a kind of...loyalty? He's not what he was written in the notes to be...(this trope is more for machines, but can apply to both weasels.)

Jerk with a Heart of Gold --- Slimy is very protective of Twitchy.

Nervous Wreck --- Twitchy's character isn't as 'solid' as Slimy, who got a proper rendered sketch. Thus, like the Blot, her grasp on herself began very unstable, both physically and mentally. With help from an artist who gave her an actual design outside of notes, she was able to gain some clarity.

Composite Character --- Twitchy began as Crazy --- but the times have moved on and connotations change. Her original design was a weasel in a blue hospital robe, but this idea was too similar to Psycho, and so whoever drew her combined several 'deleted weasel' ideas together. Such a collab ended up with a very, well, twitchy character, so that's the persona she went with.

Canon Character All Along --- oh, Rod. I'm still holding onto that shelved fanfiction and not willing to give too many spoilers. How about 'Not What It Looks Like'. Rod is trying to solve a crime and change perceptions about bootleg toons, but in doing so, makes himself out to be the perpetrator, and causes discontent amongst humans about 'fan-characters'. Though, uh, he does actually commit tresppassing. Nice job breaking it hero.

'The Ends Justify The Means'. Rod falls into bouts of melancholy, so 'Stoic Woobie' is also on the table. He comes from a darker story, one with more commentary, less humour, and is aware that this is why he was shelved in favour of Roger, but not enough to qualify for the 'green eyed monster' trope.

[starlxghtss]

Keepin' yer safe and warm

Due to an unexpected stopover, the Ravagers have to set up a camp on a unhabitated planet. And while everyone has laid down to rest, little Peter is shivering in the cold of the night and Yondu, sitting nearby, eventually hears the small Terran.

"What's up with ya, boy?"

A gruff voice called from nearby and Peter shifted his head, shivering and rubbing his shoulders. He looked up to the Centaurian with a sad expression, biting his lip in despair.

"I-i'm cold..."

The child had crossed his arms, in an attempt to warm himself, which didn't help much, though.

Yondu grumbled and let out a humorless laugh.

"Ain't my fault, I told ya to dress warm."

Sensitive Terrans...

Ignoring the child, he turned around again. Not his problem if the boy freezes his ass off. Serves him just right. This stupid brat didn't want to listen and that's what he gets now.

The Ravager grunted, closed his eyes again and tried to ignore the boy's chattering teeth and helpless whimpers in the cold. He waited to fall asleep again. Though, he had to admit that it was kinda chilly tonight, even for him.

Almost dangerously cold, especially for little Terrans - in fact, the boy only wore his thin leather jacket that barely contributed any warmth. Maybe he could...

Nah, he's gonna be fine. Don't care. Ravagers don't give a damn 'bout stupid Terrans.

Yondu still heard Peter shivering desperately under his breath, kinda glad that he at least made any noise by this cold. Admittedly, he had this uneasy gnawing in his chest, whenever he didn't hear any more noises from the kid but relaxed again as he was still breathing.

Great. Now he couldn't even sleep because of the brat.

The Centaurian turned around to the boy who by now had huddled to a bundle, pulled his legs close to his little trembling body. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, the man left out a reluctant grunt.

"C'mere."

Peter immediately turned too, raising his head. The boy stared at him with a glazed sight, surprise written all over his face. He didn't need to be told twice and scrambled over to the man.

"Hurry up, before I'm changin' my mind, boy!"

The Ravager held up his arm, pulling the shivering child under his coat to warm him up. Peter snuggled up to his side, his lips of bluish color, cheeks burning red from the cold.

"And if ye tell anyone 'bout this, I'm gonna kill ya myself an' eat'cha then, got it, boy?!" He hissed down to the kid.

Peter already made himself comfortable and eventually stopped shivering, mumbling into Yondu's coat.

"Mhm..."

And he will deny it later on, say that he just couldn't stand the noise, boy was gonna damage his chompers from all the clatterin'.

Couldn't have let his best little thief freeze t'death, he'd be stupid if he did, now did he?

Hell, he couldn't care less. But when the little Terran lay that close to his body, cradled in big strong arms and buried his face in the warm chest, even the Ravager allowed himself to put his guard down.

There was a feeling in his chest, which he ignored. And he put his hand on the boy's shoulder, just so his coat isn't slipping off and the kid won't start annoying him again. No other reason for that.

And by the stars, Yondu will never ever admit it - even in the afterlife - but he held the boy a little closer that night, making sure he is secured from the cold weather, keeping him safe and warm.

[lazysublimeengineer]

foolish one

Summary: I know how to act like I'm fine.

Characters: Ken R. & Mitsuya T.

(A/N: I just came back to this fandom and Doramitsu is the first ship that came to my mind to write a one-shot fic about when I heard this song. As a celebration of my birthday, here’s some daily dose of Doramitsu angst to feed the fandom. Also, I can’t wait to see the next season this coming 3rd of October next month as I’m gonna see my favorite white haired boy Izana in the screen. Lastly, I don’t own anything from this franchise except for this fic of mine. Respective ownership belongs to Ken Wakui for this wonderful manga and Taylor Swift for this bittersweet yet catchy song.)

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right And I will block out these voices of reason in my head

And the voices say, "You are not the exception You will never learn your lesson"

“You’re still good at this Mitsuya!” Remi groaned out in defeat as she placed her cards down on the table, glaring at the set of full house from the boy himself.

Mitsuya chuckled lightly. “I guess I’m a natural at this. Well, Draken you wanna lay down your cards here or you too scared to admit defeat?” He asked the blond who was still holding his cards silently in his hands.

“Now, now don’t get too cocky there Mitsuya or you’ll probably regret it.” Draken smirked at him as he finally placed his cards on the table which made Remi whistle and wiped off the smug expression on Mitsuya’s face.

A straight flush.

“Damn. You got me there.”

“Not always. But when I do, it’s damn satisfying.”

Draken grinned at him and Mitsuya willed out the unnecessary thoughts inside his head and the way his heart somersaulted like crazy inside his chest.

He really needed to learn his lesson to not repeat his mistakes again.

Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

You know how to keep me waitin' I know how to act like I'm fine Don't know what to call this situation But I know I can't call you mine And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof 'Cause when my head is on your shoulder It starts thinkin' you'll come around And maybe, someday, when we're older This is something we'll laugh about Over coffee every mornin' while you're watching the news

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception You will never learn your lesson"

The sun was already setting.

But Mitsuya continued to stay behind the EC homeroom as he waited for someone.

They always wait for each other to go home after school anyway.

It’s a routine between the two of them ever since they became closer and became one of the co-founders of Toman.

Regardless, if one of them is late for a few minutes they would patiently wait for one another before leaving the building.

A chiming ring from his phone jolted out of Mitsuya’s thoughts and fished for the device inside his pockets.

Upon seeing Draken’s name on the screen, a smile immediately lit up his face.

However, it was gone in a flash as soon as he opened his message and read the contents:

‘Sorry. Couldn’t make it today as Emma is requesting me to help her with something around the house. You can go home without me. I’ll make it up to you the next day.’

Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will take the long way, you will take the long way down Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?" Oh, you haven't written me or called But goodbye screamin' in the silence And the voices in my head are tellin' me why

Several days had passed but Draken didn’t keep his promise.

For one straight week, he went home alone after school.

Which should’ve been okay since he was doing it in the past right?

But ever since he met Draken and the blond had entered his life seamlessly, their routinary activities together made him used to it that when it doesn’t go as planned in each day, it left him bereft, and a strange pang would strike upon his chest.

Every other day he would glance at his phone.

Waiting for his call or message.

But the blank screen on his phone would greet him as always.

And that was a glaring answer enough that he should face into even if it made his heart ache at the harsh realization of their situation.

The realization that they would just remain as friends and that line will never be crossed forever.

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring And you will say you had the best of intentions And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will take the long way, you will take the long way down Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out, oh-oh, oh, oh

“Sorry. I’ve been busy these past few days and I couldn’t walk with you the other day after school...” Draken smiled at him sheepishly as they trudged along the pavement one afternoon.

Mitsuya should resent him... be angry with him for disappearing on him for a week and just appeared out of nowhere with that damn sincere, apologetic look on his face as if he just made a minor hiccup on their friendship.

But who was Mitsuya kidding?

He knew within himself that he had a soft spot for his other Twin Dragon and he’d forgive him immediately regardless of mistake he made upon him.

“Wow. You must be popular these days to have that kind of hectic schedule.” Mitsuya joked and tried to mask his innermost thoughts and feelings away.

“Oi. Between the two of us you’re more popular at school.” Draken replied with a disgruntled sigh, leaving his lips. “Besides I’m helping out Emma with some of her schoolworks and errands at their house.” He finished quietly and looked away.

This made Mitsuya pause in his tracks and blinked at him a few times.

He didn’t miss that look.

“You’re spending a lot of time with her these past few days.” Mitsuya remarked in a carefully crafted casual voice.

“Course I am... She needs my help... and I also enjoy spending my time with her.” Draken answered in a gruff voice. His back was turned to him as he kept walking ahead.

But Mitsuya could imagine his reaction vividly.

Flush cheeks and obsidian eyes glancing away as his veiled emotions were shimmering around his pupils.

He swallowed thickly and smiled ruefully before walking ahead.

Perhaps he should’ve walked out from this chaotic mess inside his heart when he had a chance.

But when it came to Draken, he was really a foolish one.

La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, oh La-la-la-la-la Ain't never gonna come Ooh, you will learn the hard way now Foolish one Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love They ain't never gonna come And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out Foolish one The day is gonna come for your confessions of love When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one No, he just wasn't the one

(A/N: Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you.)

[refriedrambles]

Coming back up here cause I wasn't planning on hard gushing about Manhwa when I started writing but I went off. I was planning on just going over some of the plans for the day. You have been forewarned

I'm finding some really good manhwa. like holy shit dude. Maybe I need to look for that side of tumblr

Notable ones: World's Greatest Senior Disciple (great art, story and characters), Infinite Mage (not even through the first chapter but so far great art and introduction execution)

The art in the first one reminds me so much of avatar dude. The fl has Azula's fucking face, but is so expressive, passionate and funny. MC and fl are both really smart, dumb and stupidly stubborn. It's a very tightly laced story. Each thread pulled reveals things that are or will be relevant later. It's a fucking mystery. I didn't realize I was jumping into a mystery last night and I was fucking hooked by the time it clicked. (I do like mysteries I just don't tend to seek them out)

Starts out with this martial clan getting their shit wrecked by loan sharks. MC shows up after being assumed killed in action during the war two years ago right as the sharks are trying to cut the youngest's arm off and destroys them. Something happened in those two years and he got ridiculously strong because of it, but he's pretty tight lipped about it and is far more focus on whatever is going on in the region. The war is over, the demon dead, and yet the land seems lawless upon his return and one of his brothers are missing

MC (or very very likely MC) in the second is incredibly one track minded and very obviously a reincarnator, but isn't introduced in that first person 'oh I died some how and woke up in a baby's body in an other world' bit that starts off most of these stories. (I don't necessarily dislike the bit, but only a few stories handle it well. Mushoku Tensei is probably the best with this. Most of them feel rather clunky, but I'm isekai trash so meh) And that bit very likely happened to our likely MC, but that's not how the story is introduced. Hell MC ain't our intro character. It's his hunter dad. Hears a baby crying in the dead of night, is suspicious cause a baby/ family getting past all the traps he set up on his land isn't possible and grabs an axe to check it out. He makes a comment about him and his wife not being able to have kids and then he immediately finds this baby. No explaination how it got there, why it's alone and he's practically glowing

Think these two might be up there with Trash of the Count's Family for me. They're probably better written, but I'm a simp for Cale and it's still some amazing writing. (It's gotta be for me to binge 610 chapters of a webnovel for a few days straight after reading the first few manhwa chapters.)

Aaannnyway gonna get back to drawing today. I was in a pretty nasty funk yesterday(went away after did some dishes and found a comic to read. It was difficult to find something that piqued my interest since most of what I was finding was stuff I've already read or just didn't appeal to me). I'm doing much better now!

I started little flash cards for the characters in Being Fired yesterday and am thinking maybe I should change how I'm approaching writing it? Switch to a script cause I'm overwhelming tempted to just make this project a comic. (I basically decided to do that when I committed to the group shot and started doing all those warm up, but was afraid to admit that to myself.) I've tried writing scripts before but didn't know what I was doing, but maybe actively drawing shit relating towards it and distancing myself more from describing actions will help? Idk idk, but Imma try. It's the only fic I've gotten fully out lined so far and I think I got a better chance at drawing it rather then writing it

Gonna draw Red more for the warm up probably. Might fuck with the sketches from the last warm up cause his head is just so off and I don't want those in the ref file like that

Then back to the groupshot finish that up and maybe start sketching Zim and the Tallest? Might switch to forcing myself to work on backgrounds for a while instead. Also might need to start blocking out time for stuff since I'm not really hitting shit on my list. Either way I wanna work on writing and drawing on the same days some times instead of focusing fully on one or the other

Gotta keep thing going. There doesn't need to be alot of energy going into things at once as long as it's consistent

[yakultii]

I ain't scared, I just thought I might get the most best answer this way..I'm wondering what poet or poem you read (or were read in your childhood) that had you looking for more and aspiring to write your own? If it was a traumatic event, I feel you there. .it can really help to read a complete stranger's words of pain, when they harmonize with our own. I admit, I have only read a couple of your poems but I love your voice, keep on keepin on ☮️ 🕉 💛

HAHA DW I LOVE ANONS <33333 I encourage it.

HONESTLY no poetry inspired me to write poetry (IRONIC) I thought I hated poetry!!!! I’ve written many things since I was a kid but always been more of an essay kinda dude..I attempted to read poetry a few times over my lifetime and mostly it made no sense to me..I thought it was just a bunch of pretentious ppl flexing their advanced vocab (which honestly I lack bc of a whole other story I won’t get into and maybe I was just jealous) - the only time I wrote a poem was back in final yr of highschool lit class when my brain was malnourished af and writing it made me want to kms plus I had major imposter syndrome (and then my lovely grandma went and sent it in to a poetry magazine without me knowing and it got published and still I didn’t think poetry was for me) only in more recent times I no longer have access to a psych who I can send weekly 3000 word emails to and I needed to do something so that I would stop driving myself completely insane bc I also live alone 4hrs from family and no friends so have noone to save me but myself so I started writing every day on wattpad like a digital diary entry(today was day 118 in a row) then I started to see others who had written poetry and combined w the fact that I’ve come very far over the yrs in terms with perfectionism (as in not needing to be) I found myself in a place realising that poetry didn’t have to be “good” and that I could just make it work for me. I could just write for myself. To get things out (even tho it’s only like 5% of my mind). It didn’t need to look impressive for others etc like what I used to think poetry did… so yeah basically poetry is just my budget therapy now and a tool to prevent me from ending things :))))) everything I write about (so far, at time of writing) is from real life experience and I love using it as an outlet to say the things that wouldn’t be taken so well if they were said out loud.. cause everyone has some sort of darker side whether they are exposed to it or not and whilst I do hold onto a lot of hope I love being able to have an outlet to get the rot out of me or at least create something with it so it’s not completely useless and all consuming. ALSO I think it’s cool that poetry allows you to turn your words into art. I’ve always loved art and ppl consider me arty or whatevs but I can’t draw or paint (well - not that it matters) so this is kinda something that comes more naturally to me! (I’ve only been writing poetry for 4 months now so hopefully I can only get better)… AND THANK THE LORD in the meantime as I have come to write my own poetry I am now able to appreciate other people’s poetry, I can understand it more, I can be inspired by it, I can admire it. I get it now. Or at least I think I’m starting to get it…. But to answer ur question l wouldn’t say it was a singular traumatic event which inspired it but rather a combined experience of like 20 genuinely traumatic events combined with being neurodiverse & a lifetime of various mental illnesses which I wouldn’t say are all treated etc. and quite honestly having read NOTHING in the past which resonated with the depth of my own experience so I thought you know what I know I can’t be the only one feeling this, I’m gonna try write my own! If I can’t read it I’ll write it and hope I can be that for someone else I guessss

SOZ FOR RANT IDK HOW TO STFU AND THANK YOU FOR READING A FEW OF MY POEMS AND THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION ILY HAVE A LOVELY DAY <33

[thepaintedlady00]

The Sandman and the Girl Without Dreams

Chapter 16: The Path Paved In Golden Flames

TW: gore, violence, knives, cuts, a tiny bit of angst (this is the end of the angst train I promise), bickering, slight reliving of some memories, smut (oral both receiving, penetration), fluff, apologies, gifts, Dream finally has his head out of his ass This chapter is mostly unedited so if there are mistakes please just ignore them 😅 My app won't let me edit long posts so 🤷‍♀️ Enjoy! Reposting AGAIN BECAUSE THIS APP HATES ME! xD

Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”

“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.

The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”

“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”

The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”

The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”

“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”

Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”

***

The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"

"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."

He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."

"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.

Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"

"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."

I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"

Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."

He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."

Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"

"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”

I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”

Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”

He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”

"Far from it doll," he said with a laugh as he advanced forward once more.

The kick to my sternum was unexpected and sent me flying off the stage and onto the ground. I had no time to catch my breath before The Bull leapt down, knife poised and ready to end this. I rolled to the side, gasping and sore, just missing the stab of his blade. He twisted the blade in his fingers and moved to stab me again, but I stabbed into his wrist, holding his arm away from me as he pushed harder with a desperate thirst for blood.

When my strength didn’t falter his fist came swiftly from the side and punched up into my ribs, the hit not only broke a few, but sent me falling further into the aisle. I hurried back onto my feet and moved backwards, dodging each movement of his fists and blade, waiting for an opportunity of my own to strike. The wound on his shoulder provided such, it was a small delay but it would have to do. He moved again and then I struck, lunging forward, leaping onto him and digging both my blades into his back and pulling up.

The Bull grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doors to the room, not giving me any time to move or think before kicking me all the way out into the lobby. My head cracked against the ground as he advanced, stepping on my knee until the bone strained and cracked beneath him. With a pained cry I stabbed his thigh and rolled when he lifted the pressure off me, kicking the shin of his leg as I went. I was off balance now, my knee burned as I shuffled backward and watched The Bulls movements. He smiled, but this one was no longer the wide smug grin, it was tense and forced. He was getting annoyed with me.

He started advancing more sloppily now, the pain I’d inflicted on him mingling with that bubbling frustration. It was risky, relying on his fractured emotional state, but I intended to use every possible advantage I could. We moved around the people, who appeared to be sleeping or frozen, dishing out hit after hit until my back slammed into the cool metal of the elevator doors just as they began to open. The Bull shoved me inside, winding his fist back. I ducked and used the opportunity to lay into him.

My blades sliced the back of his knees, stabbed into his side and stomach, just as I brought my hand down to bury the blade into his chest, his hand caught my arm and threw me onto the bloody floor of the elevator as it began moving up. His knife dug into the side of my stomach and my sharp cry filled the space. The Bull settled on top of me, smug and over confident as he abandoned his own blade and forcefully pulled one of mine from my hand. “I’m gonna make this nice and slow.”

The metal of my blade caught the light, fire raging inside it as he brought it down to my face. I caught it in my hand, wincing as the metal sliced through my palm. My blood didn’t drip down onto me though, it ran backwards up the blade and spread out over his hand. I could smell the flesh burning as The Bull let go of the hilt with a startled noise as my blood burned him. I wasted no time throwing all my body weight into him, pulling him to the ground. The dagger flipped in the air, I caught it and quickly buried both of my blades deep into his eye sockets. His body moved, twitching and flailing for a moment before it stopped entirely.

Breathing heavily I forced myself to my feet, wiping the blood off my blades with my already ruined pants. I hit the lobby button and stared down at the lifeless body of The Bull. The ride down was silent, still, as my body reeled in pain. “Have fun in Hell you fucking bastard.”

The doors opened and I slowly made my way back to the convention room, just in time to catch the demon standing between The Corinthian and Dream, holding him still with Lyrias twisted dark threads. “Now you die, Dream Lord. You then Destiny.”

I threw one of my blades, aiming to slice through the threads. “You and I have business, demon!”

Its head turned to me with a dark sneer. “You. Why won’t you just die?!”

With a painful shrug I moved closer to the stage. “Maybe it’s just not in my nature.”

It turned away from Dream, jumping down off the stage and standing between me and them. “You cannot stop me, Weaver. Not without killing Destiny’s precious Lyria.”

“I’ll find a way.”

A dark smile, oozing with black spread on her face. “No, you will die.”

It lunged forward, slashing with dark claws and cutting my leg and hitting the daggers from my hands as I dove behind it. The Corinthian had turned to Dream, dagger raised and ready to strike his creator. I grabbed his threads and pulled him to his knees. Dream watched, still unable to move his feet from the threads I hadn’t cut around his legs. “Penelope!”

Claws dug into my shoulder, reopening the once sealed wound there as the demon cut deep and then threw me to the ground. It smiled widely, twisting its hands, a noose tightening around my neck and pulling me back into the stage, choking me. Voices filled my ears, The Stewards, Olethros, Isabel, Pierre, Johanna. Voices of all the people I’d lost, or could lose. The demon laughed. “Such a convenient thing for you to keep tied to you. A noose, made of your own failures, perfectly sized to hang you with. Pathetic. Soul bound. Fate Weaver. Your titles matter not, for you are weak. It was foolish of you to think you could ever beat me.”

Soul bound. The voices grew louder in my ears as my lungs began to burn. Fate Weaver. I closed my eyes, my hand scratching the ground, fingers running through coarse sand. Sand. The hilt of my dagger brushed against the tips of my fingers, buried deep in the black sand that now coated the floor between me and the demon. I wasn’t just those things. Thunder rumbled in the room, echoing loud and fiercely as the dark clouds of The Gathering Storm covered the ceiling. I wrapped my hand around it and cut the threads around my neck, ignoring the way the blade sliced through my skin as well. Lightning struck the claws of the demon, bringing it to its knees with a startled cry as I stood, the sand swirling around me. “I’m not just a soul bound or a Fate Weaver. I’m the fucking Lady of the Dreaming and so long as I live you won’t lay a finger on my King.”

Storm swirled around Lyria’s hunched over body, twisting around her limbs and shocking the demon as it writhed and fought against it. I moved fast, grabbing hold of her shoulder and looking back at Dream, our eyes locking for the first time in days. “Finish it, Dream.” I looked at The Gathering Storm and bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”

Then Lyria and I were gone, landing in Destiny’s garden as he stood, waiting for us. The demon was weakened by the lightning and I had hoped that Lyria would be strong enough to fight it. If Destiny could get through to her, maybe the book could provide some information. Black blood spilled from her mouth as the gold of her eyes flared against the darkness. “Kill me.”

“No.” I said, grabbing the book from Destiny’s table and flipping through the pages. “We’re going to save you.”

“There isn’t time!” She cried out. “Kill me. Do it before I hurt him again.”

Destiny knelt down in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. “I will not lose you again.”

Her head slammed into his face, the blow from the demon strong enough to send him to the ground as it climbed on top of him, raising its claws with a shriek. Its hand froze in the air, trembling as the gold in her eyes raged. She was fighting, as hard as she could, I needed to be fast. The pages provided little information, but a dispelling spell finally met my eyes and I wasted no time in reading it. The demon's dark shadowed body pulled away from Lyrias, both of them screaming as I completed the spell and the demon was pulled back to its own shadow realm.

Lyria slumped forward into Destiny's chest as he sat up and quickly checked her for a pulse. “Des, is she okay?”

He pressed his head into her hair and breathed in deeply, quiet for a long moment. “She’s alive.”

I released a relieved breath, my shoulder stinging as I neared the two. Her eyes fluttered open, the black finally gone from them as she looked around us. “Is it truly over?”

“Yes, Lyria,” Destiny said softly. “You are home.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned weakly to him. “Destiny… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He stroked her cheeks. “No, this was my doing. I should have told you of Penelope… should have told you what I intended.”

The sting in my shoulder intensified until I found myself gasping for air. Looking over my shoulder at the shadows as they began to seep from my wound. Destiny looked at me, Lyria’s eyes followed. “He’s left his mark on you. He will use it to pull you to him.”

“You can still trap him.” Lyria mumbled weakly as Destiny held her close. Her golden eyes met mine. “His soul, whatever is left of it, is bound to the book. Find the page with my handprint and you’ll find the spell to rebind his physical form to the book as well.”

“Penelope-”

“Don’t worry Des, I’ll finish it. Just… Tell him I’m sorry,” I whispered, gripping the book tight in my blackening hands as my shoulder seethed in shadows. “And that I loved him more than anything.”

“Weaver!” Destiny yelled as I let myself be pulled into the darkness.

***

Dream rose to his feet, his eyes turning away from where his lady had vanished from to The Corinthian as he clapped slowly. “Quite the woman isn’t she? I’m starting to think I put my money on the wrong Weaver. So, back to square one it seems.” He pulled a knife from his jacket and shook his head. “But I won’t go willingly.”

“A knife against a dream?” he asked, stepping towards his creation slowly.

“You don’t think dreams can die?” The nightmare egged on. “Let’s find out.”

Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand has only just begun to swirl around The Corinthian as he stabbed his knife into Dream’s hand. It was surprising to him when it actually hurt, so much so he dropped to his knee and examined the cut with tentative hands. “How?”

“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide, smug grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”

“No.”

“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”

Dream ignored the nightmares words and pushed himself into the dream just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”

“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”

He moved through the plastic lining the door with a sigh at the sight of so much death and violence before him. “It’s his dream, for your world.”

The Corinthian sneered at him for a split second before smiling at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”

The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”

“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”

“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly as he watched his nightmare struggle to keep his composure.

Rose looked up at him, sorrow and confusion shining in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”

Dream nodded a little. “Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”

The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”

Steel singing in the air echoed around them as The Corinthian pointed a knife at him. “He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”

“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”

“I’m tryin to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.

“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.”

“Enough!” Her voice echoed in the vast space as Dreams' eyes looked up, there in the distant darkness he could see Penelope… A dream of her? No. A vision. 

She’d been thrown to the ground, her surroundings unknown to him as a clawed hand of darkness grabbed her head and held her down, squeezing enough to puncture her cheek. Dream took a half step forward when her eyes met his, wild and desperate… afraid. Penelope! Her eyes filled with tears, the fire in them raging as her hand found a dagger. She shoved up, stabbing deep into the arm of whatever creature lurked.

Rose’s power radiated through the room, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of his lady as she was dragged back into the shadows and out of his sight. A scream and a wild shriek filling the air. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime the walls go back up. Because I am not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two I’m wide awake.”

His heart thundered in his chest as he watched the walls further separate him from going to Penelope. And just like that the dream faded, The Corinthian filling his view as he lifted his hand and examined the healing wound. His nightmare took off the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. “If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”

“You’re not going back.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse with the emotion that raged in him. Penelope was somewhere fighting for her life and he could not save her and The Corinthian… his masterpiece needed to be unmade and he needed to be the one to do it. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian scoffed at him. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them, not even her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”

“Or you might actually feel something.” His nightmare smiled, sad and angry. “I am not the problem Dream.”

There it was. The answer to the question he’d been asking for so long. Why did his dreams and nightmares feel so distant from him? Why did they prefer Penelope, someone they’d only just barely been introduced to when he had been beside them for eons? It was far more simple than he’d thought possible. He pushed them away, shoved them into strict rules that shackled their growth and thus their ability to view him in any light other than a captor. “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”

The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. “I am only sorry I won’t be here to watch you lose everything… to see Rose Walker do the same to you.”

Dream knelt before the pile of sand and plucked the small skull up and a sad smile. “Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little dream.”

He turned to the crowd of his creations flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”

They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed out of the room. Dreams eyes settled onto the spot Penelope had once stood, his heart sinking lower and lower every second she did not reappear before him. My love… Where are you? Please… Tears filled his eyes as the minutes passed with no sign of her. Penelope.

***

Darkness surrounded me, the wound on my shoulder burning now in the rancid air as I stumbled into the altar and shakily set the book in place. I flipped through the pages, eyes scanning and desperate to find Lyria’s handprint. Come on. Come on!

A dark chuckle echoed around me, pain ripping through my shoulder and tearing a scream from my throat. “Why do you still fight against the dark, little Weaver?”

Before I could even move out of the way the demon had grabbed me and thrown me to the ground. My head cracked against the stone as I pushed myself back, hands fumbling in the dark for my lost daggers. The glowing red of the demon's eyes was all I could see in the darkness in front of me as it shifted and moved without a sound. Its long talons flashed for a second before its whole hand curled around my head and squeezed the sharp points into my skin. I groaned, still trying to move as my eyes lifted and a hazy vision of Dream and Rose and The Corinthian flashed in the distance. Dream... I thought softly, my hand shifting toward him and bumping into the sharp sting of Destruction sheathed in steel.

I wrapped my hand around it, taking one last look at Dream's eyes before forcing my body up and stabbing the blade deep into the demon's arm. It shrieked loudly, its hand tightening around my head as it flung me through the air and sent me crashing into the altar. This time my whole body burned with pain, every wound I sustained in my fight with The Bull and with the demon before, as the adrenaline began to fade and everything else started to settle in. I coughed up blood as I turned and reached for the book, weakly flipping the pages until my heart sank at the sight of a torn page. “No.”

“Did you really think I’d leave the one page that could rebind me?” Mephistopheles asked with a loud, smug laugh. “Don’t you see now? You cannot trap me.”

“If I can’t trap you then I’ll just have to kill you.” I wheezed as I took my blade in hand and stabbed the book as hard as I could, the steel piercing the thick leather. A soft, dark light began to seep out from the book. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. 

Mephistopheles growled in the darkness. “Your little blade isn’t strong enough to kill me. NOTHING IS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL ME!” Claws sliced clean through my side, pulling me and the book back to the ground as the red eyes loomed over me and a twisted grin of darkness and thorns smiled down at me. “I’ll give the Endless your regards, Penelope.”

No. The world of threads offered little help, as all the threads save the gold were covered in darkness. My eyes fixed on the molten gold as it swirled brighter than ever, gold drops pulling towards me like fireflies in the dark. Forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom. The Fates voices echoed in my ears as Mephistopheles’ claws tore through my stomach. FUCK! My hand shot out and wrapped around the golden thread. Fire, bright golden swirls of fire wound around my arm and sunk into my skin, burning hotter than anything I’d ever felt. A scream tore through my throat as the gold curled up my shoulder as I lifted the dagger again and stabbed the blade the rest of the way into the book. Golden light illuminated Mephistopheles’ face and he tore away from me, attempting to shield himself from the light.

“NO! NO!” He roared as the light burnt away at the shadowed body. It lunged for me one last time, a mad move made by a dying demon. I ripped the dagger from the book just in time to lift it in front of me and watch it slice clean through its neck. The head of the demon fell to the stone and the book blazed in a puff of golden fire, blackening until the soul within it was consumed. The dagger clattered to the ground as I turned to look at the golden thread, unable to pull my hand from it. Power burning and bright and nothing like any power I’d felt before surged through me. I pulled against it harder, tears streaming down my cheeks as the power grew too great, too painful for me to stand any longer. The gold filled my vision as my body weakened to the point where I couldn’t move anymore. Blood oozed from my wounds, pooling beneath my back as a vision played in the glowing thread.

A tall figure clothed in black and stardust moved across a stone bridge. Dream. He walked through the town with his head held high as everyone he passed smiled and bid him a fond good afternoon. He looked happy. Dream followed the familiar path to Cain and Abel’s houses and shook his head with a chuckle as he crossed the bridge. “I thought I told you not to stray far, yet here you are wreaking havoc on Cain and Abel’s garden.”

A little girl was perched upside down half hanging from Pierre’s statue, her long raven hair blowing in the breeze as she flipped around and leapt into Dreams' waiting arms. Cain bowed his head to Morpheus. “It’s no trouble, my lord. She can be quite helpful when she wants to be.”

“Yes, when she’s not too occupied with vanishing!” He shook his head as the girl pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “You’re just like your mother.”

“Mommy’s good at disappearing!”  The child sang. “She can do it SO FAST!”

Dream laughed, a laugh so full of joy I’d never heard it before. “Yes, she is. Speaking of her, we should get back to the palace. She’s going to be back today.”

The girl looked up into his eyes, stars shining in hers. “Do you think Uncle Destiny and Aunt Lyria will give her a gift to bring me?!”

“Don’t they always?” He asked as she jumped from his arms and hugged Cain, then Abel and then the much larger Goldie.

She grabbed Dream's hand and tugged him along across the bridge. “Come on then Daddy!”

They moved back through the village, the sight of the mighty Dream Lord being dragged through the town by the smaller girl didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Just as they reached the bridge a woman stood on the opposite end, looking out at the setting sun. The little girl let go of Dreams hand and booked it toward her, only giving her enough time to turn before nearly tackling her to the ground. “Mommy!”

Laughter echoed as Dream moved closer, revealing my face buried in the girl's hair. “Ophelia!”

“Did you bring me a gift?” the little girl demanded, squeezing my cheeks.

“Of course,” I replied, laughing. “It’s in the library with Lucienne and Matthew.”

The child, Ophelia, leapt to the ground and ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her. Dream pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “How is my brother and his wife?”

I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”

“Did he answer your question?”

“He did.”

Dream looked down at me, an expression of anticipation and hopefulness filling his usually stoic face. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense my lady?”

My smile grew wider as I nodded. “He confirmed our suspicions.”

Now, Dream was beaming, bright as a star as he enveloped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a bit. “This is wonderful news! Did he tell you which it would be?”

Once he set me back down I cupped his face with a wide smile. “A boy.”

“A boy,” he breathed, hands resting on my stomach. “I assume you already have a name in mind?”

I smiled, the eyes of my future self looking over his shoulder and into my own. “Omiros.”

“Omiros.” I could hear the smile in his voice as more tears streamed down my cheeks. “A strong name. Though I have to wonder where you, my love, came up with such a name.”

My eyes turned away from me and looked up at him with happy tears. “I heard it a long time ago.”

His head tilted to the side as he stroked my cheek. “From where?”

“A dream,” I answered.

“You said that last time,” he noted, suspicious.“Well maybe you should believe me then.”

“My son. Omiros,” Dream said again, softer, almost like a prayer as his thumb rubbed against my stomach.

The gold thread faded before my eyes, taking the vision with it, and my hand fell limp onto the stone floor. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me. The darkness and decay of the realm remained as the creatures gathered around me, drawn to the starlight that had been glowing from my head. A green butterfly flew past my eyes and settled on the bloody skin above my heart. The light moved, flickering out for a moment before glowing even brighter beneath the butterfly. The creatures made a noise, soft and desperate. "You would be stripped of your light and left to darkness should you try." 

The light, the blessing, would set these people free. I didn’t know how I knew, but something inside me just did… It was the only way to set all this right. I lifted my hand, despite the pain the movement sent through me, and touched my heart. The butterfly settled over my palm as I pulled the light from my chest, holding its steady warm glow tightly. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me.

"Goodbye, Morpheus," I whispered, letting the light slip from my fingers and up toward the sky. Silver spirits of the creatures trapped in the darkness followed the light up into the sky, tearing through the darkness and leaving me one last fading view of the night sky before darkness overtook me.

***

Destiny stared out into the night sky as he held Lyrias hand in his, absentmindedly stroking his thumb along her skin. He could feel her heart beating again, after all these long years, she was home. All of it was thanks to Penelope. She’d offered him help, even knowing that the likelihood of her demise was great. He looked down at the shimmering gold of Lyrias cheeks and smiled, pressing a kiss to them as he stood.

“Father,” he said out into the sky. “I have never asked for anything… You know I would never ask unless it was of great importance. Just this once, I ask for your favor.”

Beside him Time stood, hands clasped in front of him. “I cannot guarantee she will live. First she must pass her final test, and then her fate will be decided.”

Destiny nodded. “It is a chance, one I can only hope she will be strong enough to make good use of.”

“We shall soon see.”

***

The darkness that cocooned me was neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. I felt weightless as voices swirled around me, one soft but cold. A hand shook my shoulder, soft and warm and familiar. “Penelope, it’s time to wake up darling.”

“Mother?” I whispered as my eyes opened to her kindly face looking down at me with a soft smile. She pushed my hair out of my face. “Am I dead?”

Her face twisted as she gasped at the question. “Heavens no! Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because this…” I stopped myself, eyes roaming over the modest bedroom that had so very long ago been my own. “This isn’t real.”

Mother laughed softly. “You and that imagination of yours. Now, get up. We have a long day of lessons ahead of us.”

I sat on my bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room and my breaths heavy and sharp. What the fuck is going on? I thought as I pulled the covers off me and practically ran to the mirror. I looked like I had then, youthful. The wounds I’d gained while fighting The Bull and Lyria and the demon were gone. I turned my wrist over, running my fingers along the smooth unscarred skin. It was all gone… No, it just hadn’t happened yet. I sank to the floor, tucking my knees to my chest and letting out quiet, scared sobs. Was this real? And if it was… what was I meant to do?

A voice, warm and loud, echoed through the room. “You must choose what was or what could have been, Fate Weaver.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, but the voice didn’t come again. Okay, I told myself, wiping the tears from my eyes. This is just another test. I just needed to figure out where I was and what this choice was. After I got dressed for the weird day that was no doubt ahead of me I looked around my room, if there was anything here to tell me what was going on it would certainly make this easier. I pulled a box out from under my bed and opened it up to reveal a simple fine dress, one I recognized almost immediately.

This was the day I snuck out and attended the party at the Burgess house for Alex. The day I met Morpheus. The day that changed everything. Choose what was or what could have been? Whoever it was that set up this weird trip to the past wanted me to either make the same choices I had, the ones that led me to where I ended up or to choose differently? I practically scoffed. Why would I change what happened? I had already lived through it. Unless… whatever being was doing this expected me to live through it all over again.

The pained memories of the asylum filled my mind as I set my head in my hands. What would change if I tried to do things differently? Morpheus. I looked down at my arm where the mark had been and sadly ran a thumb over the smooth skin. If I change things… It would change our relationship, change what we meant to each other… what we still mean to each other. I kept going over it in my mind as the day dragged on. My father, the man I’d killed with my bare teeth, sat across from me at the table as we ate. I’d forgotten how miserable I was. Forgotten how absolutely horrible life had been living in the Barlow house.

Sure, I was fed and had plenty of time to myself, but it was lonely. There was no Matthew to swoop down and chatter in my ear. No Lucienne to offer up a book recommendation or talk to me for hours about the knowledge she held. No Mervyn calling me kid and offering to show me how to do various jobs. There was no Cain and Abel and Goldie with their garden and their bickering. No town full of loving nightmares and dreams. There was no Dreaming, no home… No Morpheus.

For a while I wandered the Barlow estate grounds, deep in thought, but no matter how long I thought about it my answer stayed the same. I would follow the events of the day as they had happened, even if it meant I would have to live the years that followed in the same torment that I had before. I looked at myself in the mirror as night finally came and smoothed a hand over the dress that would soon be ruined, before climbing out the window and making my way toward the Burgess house and the crowd that gathered there.

I walked as if I was in a daze, moving through the crowd until Alex's young and familiar face smiled down at me. "Penelope! It's about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandoned me to be eaten by these people!"

“Alex…” I hadn’t seen him in eighty years. Even after all the pain he’d caused me, I couldn’t help but feel happy when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside. For a split second I’d forgotten that this wasn’t real, that this was all some kind of memory or, or, something.

I looked up at the house, residual fear and anxiety building in me as Alex led the way. Hand on my shoulder he looked over me with worried eyes. “Are you alright? You seem quiet.”

“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Well, relax, Pen. Tonight is supposed to be fun.” His family butler scolded him quietly and he nudged my shoulder. “Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility.”

I took one last look at his face, one last look at him while he was still my friend. “You are rather irresponsible.”

“Says you,” he retorted with a laugh and a nudge to my shoulder.

“Don’t be too long… responsible Alex, or I’ll be the one that becomes the meal.” Goodbye, my friend. I thought as I watched him walk out the door. Hopefully once I got to Dream this whole thing would end, but if not… Alex wouldn’t be like this again.

I instinctually moved toward the least crowded part of the room, my eyes drawing to the door with the guards standing in front of it. Now that I knew what secrets it held the curiosity was gone, replaced by a cool and pulsing rage. He was down there. Alone. Naked. Locked away in some goddamn fish bowl for what? Roderick Burgess’ pride? I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Dream was free. He was safe. Just like before I watched the people dance, drink and come close to overdosing on every drug imaginable at the time. All just one large facade. The rich man fell to the ground, convulsing just as he had before and I turned toward the basement door. Everything and everyone froze as the voice from this morning echoed around me again. “Choose.”

For a moment I looked around at the party, studying the faces of the upper class crowd. They were miserable, all of them, I had known it then and I knew it now. I turned back to the door and descended the dark stairs, into the basement that would soon fill with beatings and blood, but the second my eyes met his in his glass cage my heart soared. Whoever organized this, whatever they wanted of me, had wasted their time. There was no world where I wouldn’t choose him. 

The basement was just as I remembered it, damp and dark, reeking and poorly lit. The glowing glass sphere hung in the center of the large space and my legs nearly buckled at the sight of it. Morpheus sat up, dark, star filled eyes watching me as I moved closer and closer to him. He watched me with a stoic expression, but his eyes betrayed what he felt, as they always did.

“Don’t worry. There's nothing they could do to make me choose differently.” I said as I stood face to face with him, tears running down my face as I pressed my hand to the glass without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you, Dream.”

He said nothing as he mirrored the gesture. Just like the first time pain exploded across my palm, but this time when the images and voices filled my head I knew them. The memories of Dream and I played in my head, every tiny gleam in his eyes, every stupid game I played with him, our goodbye and then our reunion, Matthew and Lucienne and Mervyn and Cain and Abel, home. They were here, all along from the beginning they were here. The glass shattered beneath our hands as Dream’s voice silenced all the others. “I thought you’d left.”

I smiled as the glass turned into sand. “I would never leave you, my Dream. You’re my home.”

The memory or illusion of Dream stepped out of the metal frame and stood in front of me, lifting his hand and blowing sand into my eyes. Everything faded away until I stood staring at an empty expanse of darkness. Two figures stood before me, neither looking my way but at each other. 

"It has been a long time since we have shared a plane,” the soft, cold feminane voice said.

The other replied, rough but warm. "Yes. I have missed you."

The soft voice belonged to a woman, tall and thin, beautiful beyond belief. She wore a gown of glowing light and her long hair was black with stairs swirling inside it. Night. I told myself. This was Dream and the other Endless’ mother. “I am here now.”

The loud voice belonged to a man, old with vibrant red hair and a long beard filled with gray strands and features that reminded me of De and Olethros. He shook his head. “Only because you felt drawn here. You did not come for me.”

“No, but I am here nonetheless.” Her eyes, two glowing stars, turned to me. “Your light is gone, little star. It was a mistake of you to give it away for even I cannot return it to you.

The old man changed before my eyes, into a small boy. “To give away such a blessing is quite the feat alone, especially for a mortal born. But, more interesting, perhaps, is your choice.”

“I just did what I thought was right.” I answered him.

“Right?” he questioned, now older but not old. “Was it out of obligation or love I wonder? Mortals seem to be quite fickle in their feelings.”

This must be their father, I told myself. Dream had spoken little of his parents and from what I could gather from Desire there was a good reason for it. As I watched them coldly argue with one another over what my fate was to be all I could think of was how unhappy and bitter they both sounded. Night was cold and emotionless as she spoke. “Does it matter why she chose this path?”

The man turned to her, the young boy once again. “It does to me, as it should to you.”

“She may have foolishly given away my blessing, but the fact remains she passed your test, Time. Do you not wish for our son to be happy?"

“My blessing is a rare and powerful thing. I will not give it to someone unworthy of it.”

They fought again for what seemed like hours. Listening to them certainly made their children's messy histories make more sense. For a while I considered trying to leave, find my own way, but there was literally nothing but abyss around us so I quickly decided against it. Then my thoughts shifted to whether or not I'd have to choose a side between them, should this argument turn into an actual fight.

As I looked between the two it was difficult to figure out who I found more intimidating. Time was loud and even in his old appearance he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Night, while delicate in appearance, held a very cold and calculating look in her eyes that made me question just how soft she truly was. Truthfully I hated both options. Maybe I could take them both? I thought, touching my thighs. Right no daggers. They both looked at me curiously.

"Do you honestly think you could fight us both?" Night asked.

"Two Endless beings of greater power than you could ever know?" Time added.

I shrugged. "I don't know! It's not like I have a lot of options. And also it's quite rude to drag me here, test me, argue in front of me, then read my mind and judge me on trying to figure out how to fight you two if need be. Mind your own business, which it seems you two have plenty of!"

"Who would you choose of the two of us?" Time asked, sending Night a glare. "I am far more powerful."

Night merely rolled her eyes. "You always were so self important. The mortal would obviously pick me, for she has been given my blessing before."

"Another reason as to why she would choose me. For it is my blessing she needs now."

"ENOUGH! God I see why your kids are so fucked up! You two are, no offense, truly fucking terrible.” I looked at Night. “I thank you for giving me your blessing. I’m sorry I gave it away, but I’d do it over again if it meant saving those people.” I turned to Time, now an old man. “Give me your blessing or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going home with or without it.”

He tilted his head a little. “You think yourself capable of navigating the endless darkness?”

I shrugged again, frustrated and exhausted. “I don’t know, but I don’t care. I’m going home. If it takes me days or years I don’t care. If I fucking die here trying to find my way back… I. Don’t. Care. I have to try at least, I owe them all that much.”

“You are a curious human, Penelope Barlow.” Time said, stepping towards me and holding out his hand. “My son has asked me to save you.”

“Dream?”

“No, I’ve not spoken to Dream in eons. It was Destiny.” He changed again into a younger man. “He’s asked nothing of me since the creation of this world. Yet he asks for a favor now, for you… a mortal.”

I smiled at the thought. “He didn’t have to do that.”

Time nodded. “No, he did not, but he did. You hold much influence over my children and are regarded highly among them, for all would have asked this of me."

"You sound confused by that."

"I am. You are nothing but a mortal." Time insisted. "Your soul being bound to Dream means little in regards to my other children. And yet they would all come to me on your behalf."

"Maybe it would be easier to understand if you actually spent any time with them." I bit out. "Both of you."

Time didn't respond to the jab. "You passed the final test I had laid before you, The Fates were right in their assumptions. But, know that it is only for Destiny that I grant you my blessing.” I could see Night scoff as he held his hand out to me, old once again. Once my hand met his wrinkled skin, golden light filled the darkness. 

My eyes drifted shut as the bright light grew hotter and filled the dark abyss, and when I opened them again I was back at the hotel, laying in the center of the aisle, chairs on either side of me. Some of my wounds had healed, the ones that would have killed me, but the others were still fresh and bleeding. My hand was blackened from the flames and burnt marks curled up my arm, remnants from the golden thread and there, laying at my side was the head of Mephistopheles and the burnt book that once bound him.

***

"Did you find her?" Matthew asked as soon as he landed at Dreams feet.

Dreams' eyes scanned the crowd for a moment. "No, but she's still here, I can feel it. We'll check inside."

He turned just as she hobbled out of the hotel doors. She froze at the sight of him, her tear stained face looked pale and sickly. The blood and wounds that covered her all over didn't help ease his conscience, but it was her hand that he focused on. Penelope cradled the right one to her chest, holding a black book, the dark lines of burnt flesh in the shape of rope, no, threads. She'd had to touch the burning thread, had to twist it around her arm to free herself of whatever torment his callousness had doomed her to.

For a moment they both just stood there, looking at one another, not willing or able to move first. He took a half step forward, and her eyes filled with tears, lips quivering as she closed the distance between them, crushing herself into his chest. He felt lighter, like he could finally breathe again as he hesitantly hugged her to him. Through her sobs she pleaded, "Can we go home? Please?"

Home. The word was bittersweet. It meant that she still considered The Dreaming her home, but also meant that even with what he'd said to her and denied her, she still trusted him. "Yes."

Her body relaxed as the chilled air of The Dreaming wrapped around them, but neither of them moved. Dream was afraid of what would happen after he let go of her. She had to be angry with him and after searching for her for so long… After seeing Desire's hands on her… Dream knew they had much to discuss. Matthew cawed. "I hate to ruin the moment but… Is that a head?"

She pulled back, lifting her left hand and the severed head she gripped in it. "Right. I'm gonna have to take this shit to Destiny tomorrow."

"What the fuck have you been up to the past few days?!"

"It's a long story," she admitted with a wince as she waved her hand, easily creating a box and tossing the head and book inside. Whatever she had done to gain the upper hand over the demon had unlocked her connection to his power fully now.

Dreams' eyes slid down to her deep wounds as blood dripped to the floor. "You need attended to."

She nodded, dazed and stumbled to the side. "Yeah, uh, I'm about to pass out. The… The blood loss is really starting to, uh, kick in so if you could… Catch me or something, I'd appreciate it."

Just as she predicted her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she began to drop to the ground. Dream caught her, holding her to him tightly. "Matthew, tell Lucienne that Penelope is back, and send her to my quarters."

"You got it boss," the raven said. Hearing his casual tone made Dream feel better. Perhaps now that she was back things could return to normal. He set her on the bed, carefully discarding her clothing and looking down at the deep wounds and still retreating black veins. No. Things would never go back to normal, at least not the normal he was accustomed to.

He worked tirelessly, sewing and wrapping her wounds with what magic and skill he had until he finished. He pulled fresh blankets over her and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her injured hand tentatively in his. Dream watched the black veins and discoloration fade from her skin. His hands helped cool the sweltering heat of her body and once the color had begun to return to her skin he let himself feel the relief of having her home.

It may not last. She could still wake up and decide to leave, but for now he was content. Penelope was home, here in their bed, and most importantly she was alive. Lucienne knocked at the door, entering quietly and clutching her hand to her chest at the sight of her friend. "My lord! What's happened to her?"

"I do not know," he admitted. "After she and the demon vanished I only saw a glimpse of whatever she faced. When she awakens, I'm certain she will fill you in on the details. The items she came with, where are they?"

"In the library, sir. I thought it best to keep a close eye on them, just to be certain they are truly dormant."

He nodded. "A wise course of action."

Lucienne stroked Penelope's hair and looked up at him. "Do you need anything, my lord?"

"I must finish this business with the vortex." His voice was soft and sad, unable to pretend any longer that the task at hand meant nothing to him. Rose Walker had proven herself to be brave and kind hearted and strong. She reminded him of Penelope when he'd first met her in the damp dark of the Burgess basement. And that only made his duty more difficult.

Lucienne nodded. "I'll stay with her."

"No," he said softly. "Return to the library and watch the artifacts she brought. Matthew can watch over her, that way I will be able to see her through him."

"Very well, my lord." She smiled down at Penelope and sighed softly, relieved. "I am glad she's home."

"As am I." He stroked her skin one last time before standing. Now he could only hope she wanted to stay.

***

When I opened my eyes I was back at Destiny's garden, everything had been repaired and put back just as it was supposed to be. Destiny stood beside the table, carefully setting it as the sun began to rise. "You are early. Or perhaps you are on time."

I smiled, laughing a little. "Were you expecting me?"

"No," he answered, turning around to face me. "But I was hoping you would come back."

"I have you to thank for that," I said, moving closer and wrapping him in a soft, weak hug. "Your parents are assholes, by the way, your dad especially."

His hand gently pressed against my back, his famous and comforting one armed hug. "I am simply glad you are here, Weaver."

"Me too." I mumbled. "How is Lyria?"

"She is resting," he said, turning to finish setting the table. "But she will recover quickly, thanks to you."

"Good." I sat down in my chair and sighed in relief as the pain subsided a little. "How are you?"

Destiny smiled. "I am better than I have been."

"Wow, a real answer?" I teased. "You sure she didn't hit your head too hard?"

He sat down across from me and shook his head fondly. "Did you retrieve the book?"

I nodded. "And the bastard's head."

"Both must be taken to Hell and returned to The Morningstar."

"You think Lucifer is involved in this?" I asked. 

Destiny didn’t respond for a moment. “No, but Mephistopheles was a Duke of Hell and what remains of him should be returned to his master.”

There was more, I could feel it. “What else?”

“While you’re there I would ask you to retrieve some things of Lyrias from Lightbringer.” He looked at me, but this time there was a thinly concealed rage in them that I’d never seen before. “The demon stole them and took them to Hell in order to keep them from me. His remains should be enough to trade for them.”

"Alright, how do you want me to facilitate such a trade?" I asked. "The devil and I don't exactly have the best relationship."

Destiny gestured to a small letter beneath my cup. "I've written out what to say. Hopefully it keeps you out of trouble."

I opened the letter and read through the  finely written, far too modest request.

Lucifer, Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I will offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts, as well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.

“Sounds simple enough," I said, moving to stand. A bit too simple.

His hand reached across the table and settled over mine. "Weaver, I simply wish for you to get Lyria's artifacts back, though I know there are some questions of your own need answered. So, I hope you shall heed my advice when I ask you to remember the ruler of Hell can be rather pedantic. Tread this path cautiously."

"Aren't I always cautious?" I joked.

"You will be going as my emissary." He gestured to the broach on the table. It was shimmering gold with an intricately carved depiction of his garden. "My sigil will mark you as my Fate Weaver and grant you entrance into Hell. They will likely be expecting you."

"Expecting me?"

"Word of Mephistopheles death will have reached them by now, along with the nature of that death.

I sighed, wincing at the pain that motion caused. "So I'm gonna be walking into a bloodbath?"

"No, so long as you do not stray from the path or your purpose."

"I'll be safe, Des."

"Of this I have no doubt, Weaver."

***

Back in Dreams bedroom I forced myself to get dressed just as Matthew flew through the window with a relieved sigh. “You fucking asshole!”

“Whoa, chill out there Smokey,” I said looking down at him as he perched on the bed. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“You disappeared!” He yelled with a caw. “They told me to watch over you til you woke up and you just poof, gone! I was worried! I thought for sure you’d gotten trapped or some shit!”

I winced as I sat down beside him. “Sorry Matthew. I didn’t mean to… poof. Destiny and I just needed to have a quick chat.”

He ruffled his wings at me. “Well, warn a bird next time.”

“I will,” I said, smoothing over his feathers. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Penny. For a while last night we thought we lost you for good.”

Looking around at the room, cast in rainbow light I chuckled a little. “You might have, for a little bit at least.”

“So, what did Destiny want?”

“I gotta take that shit I brought last night to Hell.”

“You’re going back to Hell?!” He cawed again. “Like willingly?”

Looking down at him with a smile I shrugged. “Looks that way.”

“God, you’re weird.” He said. “Come on, Merv and Lucienne are freaking out looking for you.”

“Did you tell them before you told Dream?”

He flew onto my shoulder. “Of course! I sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell the boss I lost you again!”

We walked through the halls for a while before Merv came around a corner and nearly slammed into me. His pumpkin features relaxed slightly as he pulled me into a hug. “Thank fuck! I thought you left us, kid!”

I smiled into his thin shoulder, inhaling the smell of pumpkin and tools. “I’d never abandon you guys.”

He steadied me as we walked the rest of the way toward the library where Lucienne paced back and forth as a dream stood off to the side of her. “He’s not going to be happy when he comes back and finds her gone again. Are you certain you checked everywhere?”

“She is nowhere outside the palace. We would have noticed her.”

“I do tend to stand out,” I said, hobbling forward towards them. 

Lucienne let out a breath and ran to my side. “My lady!” Her arms wound around me, pulling me into her embrace. “You must stop scaring us like this.”

“I’m sorry, Lucienne.” I said. “Had a meeting to get to.”

She pulled away and helped Merv get me settled in a chair at the table. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright,” I insisted.

“My lady, you are badly injured,” she said, examining the deep wound on my neck. “You need to return to bed and rest.”

“No can do, Lucienne. I’ve got a job to do. Speaking of, where's the things I brought back?”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the book and the… head?” She said moving around the corner to bring the box of the artifacts out. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.”

“Thanks,” I said, examining the box carefully as the feeling I’d tried to ignore since getting back began to bubble to the surface. “Where… Is Dream busy?”

Lucienne gave me a gentle look. “I just returned from helping him deal with the vortex.”

Shit. I tried to stand. “Is he okay? Did he…”

She set a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay sitting. “He’s alright, my lady. As is Rose Walker.”

“How? I thought there was no other way.”

“Normally there isn’t,” she said. “But, this whole situation appears to have been manipulated by Lord Morpheus’ sibling.”

“Desire.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Lord Morpheus is speaking with them currently.”

“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” The memories of them, their cruel game, filled my mind. “Is he… Did he seem angry?”

Lucienne looked confused for a moment. “He did. Desire’s game would have put the entire Dreaming at risk.”

I sighed. “And did he seem angry after I passed out?”

“No,” she said. “He was worried for you, my lady. All night he remained by your side, tending your wounds and ensuring that you were healing.”

“Thank you, Lucienne.” I said to her, standing to look over the artifacts in the box. “I need to get ready to go to Hell.”

Lucienne’s face immediately twisted into sharp concern. “My lady, that is most unwise! You are still injured!”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I still have to do this.”

“Surely it can wait,” she insisted.

“The longer I put it off the worse it’ll look to Lucifer. I killed one of their Dukes, they know that I did. Besides, I’d like to get this over with, and get a few answers.”

She seemed to understand as she looked down at my clothes. “Well, if you intend to travel to Hell, you may want to change into more appropriate attire.”

I laughed, nodding. “True.”

For the first time since the hotel I felt the surge of power that normally would have been Dream, but it was different. It wasn’t as strong as his, not by a long shot, but it was more than I’d felt before. I lifted my hands and ran them down the length of my body, watching as my clothes changed into light and breathable but strong material. The long sleeves were dark lines of multicolored thread glistened when I moved. The chest piece was golden armor with a half cloak of starlight pinned with Destiny's brooch. My daggers were secured to either side of my belt that snuggly accentuated my waist where the gown flared out and cascaded down my legs like a dark night sky.

Matthew let out a loud noise. “Damn Penny! That’s impressive!”

“You look amazing, my lady!”

“Kids got more talent with gowns than wood, that’s for sure,” Merv teased, bumping my shoulder.

“Hell appropriate?” I asked.

“Very much so.” She said as the doors to the library opened and the familiar light footsteps of Dream echoed through the library as he moved with haste.

Dream’s mouth opened, ready to call out to Lucienne no doubt, but he quickly shifted into a sigh as his eyes met mine and he swept towards us. Merv and the dream quietly excused themselves from the library, as Matthew and Lucienne moved to the corner. "There you are. You should be in bed."

"I have work to do," I answered, awkwardly fixing the fastenings of my newly made gown.

I could feel his eyes look me up and down, admiring either the gown or my figure beneath it. "And what work takes precedence over your health?"

Here we go. "I have to take these back to Hell."

I could feel that hum of his resistance roll through me. "No."

"Dream," I sighed. My side burned as I turned to look up at him. "You of all people can understand that this is important. It's my job, just as ruling over the collective unconscious of this world is yours. I have to do this and you have to let me."

"The Morningstar will be looking to ensnare you again." He warned. "Not only for your association to me, but because of your power and because you've killed one of their more powerful demons."

"I know." I touched the brooch. "Destiny has asked me to do this. As an emissary I should be free to come and go."

Dream still wasn't convinced. "Should be, but they will try to trick you or bend the rules."

"If worse comes to worse I'll just teleport out. They won't be able to hold me for long."

"I'm coming with you." He decided.

"No. If you set one foot in Hell they will either lock you up or kill you."

I was right and he knew it. "Take Matthew then."

With a sigh and a smile I shook my head. "Matthew hates Hell."

Dark and strong clouds took shape beside us as Storm bowed. "My lord, my lady. I wish to accompany you."

“I would gladly welcome your company, Storm,” I said, relieved that they were willing to join me. Having a friend at my back, especially one as intimidating as them would hopefully help calm my nerves and keep Lucifer from trying anything.

Dream acknowledged Storm with a polite nod and then looked at me one last time. It was obvious he didn't want me to go, but unlike all the times before he seemed softer as he agreed. "Be careful. You are still injured and they will see it as weakness."

"Thank you," I said, my hand brushing against his.

"I have one condition."

"Dream…"

He lifted his hands, a brilliant and gleaming circlet crown with a vibrant blue gem in the center of two butterflies sitting against his palms. "Wear this. That it may remind any that sees it of your status in our realm."

Without a word he set it on my head, wearing my hair around it and gently holding my face in his hands. "Thank you, Morpheus."

"Do not thank me for giving you what's rightfully yours." He pressed a kiss to my hand and squeezed it. "You will return once you've finished, won't you?"

"Of course I will." I answered. It was awkward between us, the things left unsaid and unacknowledged festing between us as we interacted with one another. "We have a lot to talk about."

Guilt and sorrow flared in his chest as he nodded. "We do, but later."

I smiled a bit and nodded. "Later."

"Yes," he replied fondly.

Lifting myself up on the tips of my toes I pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping the simple act could convey my sincerity, and turned to Storm. "Ready?"

They bowed again. “I am beside you, my lady.”

I secured the head onto my belt and grabbed the book, sparing one last look at Dream as black sand swirled around Storm and I, engulfing us in it and then fading away to reveal the charred bodies that lined the gates of Hell.

“There’s one at the door,” a heavy breathy voice followed. “At the gate of damnation. Is thief, thug or whore?” At the end of the burnt hallway of mangled bodies behind the twisted gate I could make out the tall and burly figure of the demon as he stood, waiting. “There’s one at the door. And there’s room for one more till the end of creation.”

The gates of Hell were less grand than I’d imagined and clearly geared toward terrifying anyone stupid enough to find themselves here. I walked forward with my head held high, I would not meet the Devil as a scared sniveling girl again. “Hello, Demon. I’ve come to speak with the Morningstar.”

The demon chuckled. “And who are you?”

“I am the Fate Weaver and Lady of The Dreaming.” 

“Do all queens have such small crowns? Or is it just you?” 

Thunder clapped behind me, a cold wind swirling in the air. “You can either open the gate or I can tear it open. The choice is yours, but either way I’ll be seeing your master.”

A smaller figure, gleaming in silver, stepped to the side of the demon guarding the gate. “Move, Squaterbloat. They’re expecting this one.”

“Mazikeen,” I said softly, nodding at her as the gates opened. “Thank you.”

She bowed her head to me. “Apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of our gatekeeper.”

I gave the demon a side glance as I walked through, looking at the dimly lit sky raining with fire ash. “It’s fine, one doesn’t expect courtesy in Hell.”

The path ahead was lined with demons, each holding a blazing brazier, the smell of their burnt flesh wafting towards me as Mazikeen gestured forward. “Our ruler awaits you in the palace and has prepared all of Hell to entertain you during your stay.”

“I have no need for entertainment,” I answered, holding the book tightly in my hand. 

“Our master insisted. They said you will be staying for quite some time.”

“I’ve come to return something of your sovergines, as well as receive answers.” As we passed each demon, thunder echoed behind me and dark clouds plumed at my back. I smiled at the theatrics of my companion. It appeared I would be entering Hell with wings of my own. "I won't be staying long."

Mazikeen led me the whole way to the palace, across the steep winding bridge and through the large stone gates back into the familiar dark stone of the devil's palace. She bowed to Lucifer, moving into the shadows of the room as I stepped up the stairs. Their great wings tucked into their back as they turned to me with a smile. Their eyes looked at the wings Storm had given me with a chuckle. “Quite the entrance you make, Lady of The Dreaming.”

“I figured Hell would be the appropriate place for such theatrics,” I said, bowing my head. “I assume you know why I’m here.”

“You’ve come to return something of mine, I hope.” They looked at the book and then the head that hung around my belt.

I set the book on the table between us, then I unbound the head and set it beside it. The words Destiny had prepared for me rolled off my tongue. “Lucifer, honorable Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts.” Their eyes lit up as I spoke, delighted to hear such a formal message. “As well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.”

They waved their hand, a box being brought out by another demon and set on the table. “We were prepared for such a trade. You do surprise me though, dear one. Not so long ago you were shaking and fearful in this very room. And now, you stand before me again, tall and steady.”

“I’ve been through a lot in the past few months,” I said. “A meeting with the devil isn’t exactly surprising anymore.”

“There’s something else you want,” they said confidently. “Ask it, and perhaps I will grant it to you.”

I took a deep breath. The questions I had weren’t ones Lucifer could answer. Only one person could answer them. “I want to speak with Nada.”

Their smile grew wider as they moved around the table to stand in front of me, eyes piercing my soul. “Nada? Now why would the Lady of The Dreaming wish to speak with one their king has condemned to Hell?”

“She can answer some of the questions I have.” I said plainly.

Lucifer tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment. “Why should I let you speak to her?”

“Me asking is a courtesy,” I answered. “We both know I could just teleport to her if I wanted to. But, I wish to respect your authority in your realm, so please, allow me to speak with her and then I will leave.”

They chuckled. “Another question, why should I let you go? You are Dreams beloved and he would surely come to save you, should you be trapped. It would be quite a brilliant lure.”

“It would. But, it would also bring Destiny to retrieve me, and with him Death and Delirium.” Fire burned in their eyes. “I am a Fate Weaver and the Endless have made it known that they respect my position enough to defend me if need be. Is war what you seek?”

“It would make God quite angry with me.” They smiled, but their fire in their eyes faltered.

“It wouldn’t last long enough for him to notice. The Endless united would destroy you.” My words swam in their eyes as they regarded me with a look I’d almost consider admiration.

Lucifer stood up straight and gestured toward  the windows of their palace. “You are free to seek out Nada, Lady of The Dreaming, I’ll allow you a short amount of time and then you will leave. Should you refuse to go, you will remain here.”

I bowed my head again, retrieving the box from the table. “Thank you, your majesty.”

With Storm at my back one of the demons had escorted me to the tall winding tower and up the steps to the thorned gates of the cell that housed the woman Dream had once loved. She was beautiful, even in the distressed state that Hell had driven her to. Her skin glistened in the dull firelight as she turned, shimmering brown eyes wide and hopeful. “Kai'ckul?”

Our eyes locked and a wave of confusion washed over her before understanding sparked. “Hello, Nada. Forgive me, if my presence has brought you more distress. I just wanted to speak with you.”

“He spoke true then?” She said quietly. “He has found another… His queen.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a queen. I’m just… Just me.”

Nada stood, moving to meet me at the gate, her hands curling around the thorns. “Yet a crown he's given you, small but more significant than you could ever realize. What is it you seek?”

“I…” Maybe this was a mistake. What would my questions accomplish? “I just wanted to know what he was like, when you knew him.”

“He was magnificent,” she said, eyes drifting off into the distance, some part of her finding a moment of release in the memories. “Beautiful and powerful… Being loved by him was consuming. Kai'ckul loves deeply and holds onto that which he loves with a grip like chains. We were never meant to be eternal, but I knew it was what he wished of me, and perhaps before the destruction of my home… perhaps things could have been different.”

She was kind, such a beautiful soul. “I am sorry about what happened to your people, and to you.” I looked around at the small space that was her prison. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Nadas' eyes returned to mine. “You cannot free me.”

“No,” I answered solemnly. “But I will try to convince him to return for your freedom.”

“Kai'ckul will not listen to you,” she said. “He listens to none but himself, for he is a proud king above all. I could feel how deeply he loves you when I saw him last, and I can see how deeply you love him. But he is Endless, his pride will never bend to anyone. One day he will cast you aside for duty and if you gain his ire he will cast you from his side… perhaps even to a prison like my own.” 

Had I not already done that? Had I not questioned him and insulted him and gained his anger more than once? I shook my head. “That is not the man I know. He is stubborn and can be unmovable at times, quick to anger and prideful yes, but he’s never once threatened to cast me aside and when I have gone he has always come looking for me.”

Nada took in my words and smiled softly. “You think he has changed?”

“I know he has,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”

The demon that escorted me shifted, my time was running out. Nada took my hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it. “Lady of The Dreaming, I wish you luck in your endeavors. And… And I humbly ask that you not forget me. If anyone can convince him to free me, it is you.”

“I won’t forget.” I promised. “And the next time you see me, you’ll be free. I know it.”

The demon moved forward but Storm and I were gone, back in the library. I set the box down on the table and asked Lucienne to watch over it and went to find Dream. I expected him to be in the throne room, but he wasn’t. As I opened the door to the bedroom I didn’t see him at first, but when I turned to leave he emerged from the balcony. “You’ve returned.”

I could see the worry in his face melt away as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “Of course I did. We need to talk.”

“Indeed.” He sighed. “I thought you were trapped… You were gone longer than I expected.”

“I was safe,” I assured him, picking at my fingers. “I… I spoke with Nada.”

Dreams face fell again, dark and sad as he took on the weight of my words. “I see.”

“Does that upset you?”

“Only because I know what she will have said about me.” He admitted. “And I fear that it will change how you see me.”

“Nothing could change how I see you,” I said, just as he had to me all those months ago. “What you did to Nada was wrong, but you’ve already admitted that you know that.”

He studied my face closely. “Then why did you go to her?”

I shrugged. “I needed to know if the person I spent the last few months feuding with at every turn was the person your other lovers knew.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve seen the change in you. You are not that man anymore. After… After Roderick and the years we spent apart, you’ve changed Morpheus. I know that you don’t like to think you have, but you have.”

For a moment I thought he would insist he hadn’t changed, like all the times we’d spoken about it before, but instead he nodded. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know that I have changed,” he breathed out. “It was… unexpected and difficult to come to terms with, but… I am glad that I did. It puts many things into a different perspective.”

I took a step forward. “Like what?”

His starry eyes met mine as he moved closer to me. “I have treated you poorly… Have wronged you and denied you that which is your right and I have done it all to satisfy my own pride. Asking you to halt your duties as Lady of The Dreaming was my first mistake, one I regret more than words can express. Growing angry with you for doing that which is merely your nature to, was my second. You have helped this realm far more than anyone since you came here. You have brought hope and laughter back to The Dreaming in a way I never could have accomplished. But what I regret most deeply, is how I spoke to you the night you left. You were right. Gault did not deserve the punishment I gave her, nor did Nada. You were right to question my judgment and I… I am sorry that my words, my actions forced you to leave and placed you at the hands of my sibling.”

I stiffened at the mention of Desire, tears filling my eyes as I looked away from him. “That night… I kissed them. But I didn’t…” God I was so stupid. “I thought they were you. They looked like you and then I saw you in the mirror…”

“I know,” he said, reaching out to press a gentle hand to my arm. “I know what they did to you and I am sorry I did not get there sooner. I looked… I spent all night looking for you, I even asked Hob Gadling for help.”

I smiled a little. “I knew you were looking for me.”

“How?”

“I spoke to your sister. Despair first,” I admitted. “I kind of fell into her realm. But when I came back De… Delirium saved me from falling off a roof.” I smiled, only now remembering the way her eyes were the same color, blue just like Dreams. “She and I have known each other for a while though… From the asylum. She tried to get me to wait for you, but… I was scared.”

Dream stiffened, and even through the barrier still between us I could feel the hurt in him. “You were afraid I would hurt you?”

“No!” I said quickly, my eyes meeting his again as I grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating. “No, Dream… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d see me and it would just confirm that I was nothing more than a mortal. That I wasn’t worthy of being your equal. So, I left and then things started to get… worse. I’d only felt that out of control when I was back at the asylum and it.... I went to a bridge and, uh, almost jumped.” I could see the fear in his eyes grow. “Death brought Pierre to me and they stayed with me until Johanna picked me up.”

“I am so sorry that my sibling drove you to such a dark place,” he said. “You did not deserve that, none of it.” His eyes sparkled. “I am not worthy to have you as an equal… You are far more wise and loving and strong than I could ever hope to be, my love. You deserve my power.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re an idiot. I never wanted your power Dream. I just wanted you.”

He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek. “I see that now. I know that the trust that was broken between us will take time to heal. Words are not enough to make up for all the months I’ve mistreated you, but I wish to show you now… in our room, what you mean to me, if you’ll allow me.”

I lifted my lips to his, just a breath away from touching. “Pierre asked me to make you work for my forgiveness.”

Dream smirked. “Did he?”

“Oh yes, I believe the exact word he used was grovel.”

“I will,” he said seriously. “If it’s what you wish I, Morpheus, King of Dreams will grovel before my lady.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to grovel, but I am going to make you work for it. You can start by kissing me.”

He needed no further instruction, hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him, his head ducking down to press his cold, silken lips to mine. Chills ran all over me as the barrier between us fell apart and both of us were overcome with everything we'd been holding back. For a minute all we could do was breathe against one another as everything settled between us. It would take time to sift through everything, but we had it.

Dream closed his eyes, holding me tightly. "It's good to feel you again. I've missed your heart bearing beside mine."

"As have I," I replied. "No more barriers."

"No more." He agreed, pulling me into another kiss.

It had only been a few days, but so much had happened it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last touched each other like this. He waved away our clothes, both of us moaning at the feel of each other's skin, as he moved us to the bed. His mouth was on my neck the second my back hit the silk sheets, biting and sucking and kissing down my body. He lavished each breast before moving lower, pulling my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them.

My hands fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots as his tongue lapped at my core, twirling around my clit and plunging as deep inside me as he could make it. My moans and mewls filled the room as the stained glass glowed brighter, casting Dream in a heavenly glow as he looked up at me from between my thighs. "God you're pretty."

He hummed against me, nearly bringing me to climax. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, chills breath fanning across my wet skin. "You are divine, in every way. Your body, your voice, your scent… The way you taste. I could spend hours feasting on you."

I moaned, tossing my head back with a breath. "I don't doubt it."

With a gentle chuckle he returned his mouth to me, moving in the way he knew drove me mad. I came, breathlessly against his tongue. He would have kept going, but I had other plans. I tugged at his hair until he rose from the floor, kissing up my chest until he reached my lips. Pulling him to me I kissed him desperately until his body relaxed on top of me. I flipped us over, hovering over him with a smile. "My turn, Dream Lord."

Unlike the few times before Dream relaxed into the bed, spreading his arms out, relinquishing full control to me. "I am yours, my love."

I returned the favor, sucking marks into his neck, kissing each one and moving down the length of his body until I reached his hard cock. Stroking it slowly in my hand I listened to every soft sigh and strained moan that spilled from his lips. Morpheus was never very loud in bed, but god the noises he did make were heavenly, or sinful perhaps.

I kissed his hips before moving my lips to pepper his cock with the feather light kisses and licks. His hands fisted in the sheets. "Penelope," he gasped. "Don't play games with me."

"I would never, my king," I answered, licking slowly up the length of him and swirling my tongue over the tip. My lips wrapped around him, slowly moving until the majority of him was in my mouth, my hand pumping what remained as I settled into a steady rhythm.

One of his hands fisted into my hair, not pushing me further down or pulling me away, just grounding himself as worked. I didn't know how long it took for him to take hold of my head and lift his hips eagerly into my mouth, his moans growing louder and louder until he pulled me off him and dragged me up to straddle his waist. I'd expected him to flip us over and retake control, but he didn't. 

Morpheus looked into my eyes as he guided me down onto him, just like at the lake but this time his hands were soft against my skin. He let me move, set the pace and simply ran his hands along my skin, closing his eyes to savor the feel of us both moving against each other. He finally surrendered control and that fact drove me to move faster, to kiss him harder, to pour every ounce of love and admiration I held for him into this moment. Forgiveness, full and complete forgiveness, would take us both time, but in this moment there was no doubt in my mind that he was the man I knew him to be.

I came and he followed, but he continued to fuck me all through the afternoon, by the end of it both of us were spent and breathing against one another as we lay tangled in the sheets. "Was that satisfactory work for you, my love?"

With a smile I kissed him again. "It was a very satisfying start."

"Cruel thing," he teased, his hand resting on his chest where his ruby would have sat, reminding me of my own gem sitting in my drawer.

"Would a cruel thing have a present for you?" I asked moving to my desk and taking the necklace out, hiding it in my palm.

I returned to my place by his side. "A gift?"

"The project you were so curious about. It was this," I opened my palm and dangled the necklace in front of him. "It just seemed like you missed having one, so I made this."

Dream sat up and ran his fingers along the jewel with a soft smile. "It is magnificent."

I watched him slide it over his head and admired it against his bare chest. He lifted my head and kissed me deeply. "I shall have to make you a gift."

"You don't have to do anything," I assured him. "Just lay with me."

"Always."

As we lay together we caught each other up on all the details of the last few days. Both of us were content for the first time in a long time.

“Matthew said The Dreaming wasn’t doing so well after I left. I’m sorry if I caused any problems,” I said tracing shapes into his chest. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

“You didn’t cause most of the damage,” Dream admitted. “It was Rose Walker and her friend, Lyta Hall.”

“What did they do?”

Dream sighed. “Rose weakened the barrier between dreams and reality, giving her friend an opportunity to live out a life with her dead husband, who had been using dreams to avoid his fate. I had to step in. Her husband is now at the place appointed for him and Lyta Hall and her baby are within my sight.”

“Baby?” I sat up a bit. “She had a baby in The Dreaming?”

“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he clarified. “When he grows I will have to make certain he’s safe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you tell her that? Should we be checking in on them?”

He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Oh I doubt she would be happy to see me again.”

“I mean you took her husband from her, but that wasn’t really up to you. You just did what you had to.” I answered, examining the look on his face. “What else did you do?”

“I may have… rushed through the process and… perhaps… insinuated I would take her child.”

My mouth fell open as I glared down at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”

He sighed. “I informed her that the child was conceived in The Dreaming and told her I would come for it.”

“Dream!” I slapped his arm. “You cannot just tell people you’re going to steal their kids!”

“I’ve no intention of stealing the child!” He argued. “He has power, and such can be used against us should another being learn of his existence. He will need to be watched over and taught how to harness his abilities eventually.”

“I understand that,” I said sternly. “Lyta Hall does not! She’s just a human that thinks some god is coming after her kid.”

I stood up and started getting dressed. “What are you doing?”

“WE are going to apologize to Lyta Hall and assure her that her kid isn’t getting stolen.” I waved my hand to him. “Get up, baby stealer, let's go.”

Dream complied with a heavy sigh. “I forgot how demanding you can be.”

With a smirk I pulled myself into his chest. “I can be very convincing too.”

“I am aware,” he said, kissing my lips gently. “You’ll be showing me after we return from this endeavor.”

“Will I?” “I too can be very convincing, my lady.”

***

We stood awkwardly in their living room, everyone staring us down but none more than Lyta. She blocked the path between us and Daniel with a glare that spoke the words she did not. I turned and glanced back at Dream, who met her glare with one of his own. “Could you just try to not look so… you?”

He practically rolled his eyes as he looked over at me. “This was your idea.”

“You need to apologize,” I said quietly as I elbowed him. “You promised!”

Dream sighed heavily, stepping forward a bit and addressing Lyta. "I am sorry for insinuating that I would steal your baby."

"The gift too."

A quiet groan. "Here is a gift, to show our good will."

He held the onesie out to Rose, who took one look at it and chuckled. “My little Dreamer?” She asked looking up at Morpheus who looked back at me with a glare when my giggling grew too loud.

“If I recall, you are the one that chose this gift,” he practically growled.

“I did! It was just too funny.” Rose laughed with me as Dream and Lyta continued their glaring. Rose turned to her friend, showing her the soft fabric and though her anger and near hatred remained prominent I could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. I stepped around Dream and held the basket out to her. “There’s also these.”

Lyta looked at the basket and then up at me. “Why are you doing this?”

I smiled. “Because I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to lose your husband again and then have to fear losing your baby too. Dream is….” I shook my head and shrugged. “He’s an idiot. But, I can assure you he has no intention of stealing your baby.”

“How can we know that?” She demanded. “He’s some kind of god, isn’t he? What’s to stop him from just doing what he wants?”

“Me.” I answered without hesitation. “If he tried to take your child I would stop him.”

Dream's hand on my back was comforting as he replied, “It will not come to such. I give you my word that I will never seek to part you from your son, Lyta.”

She didn’t look convinced, but when Rose grabbed her hand and nodded she softened a bit. “Alright, well what do you want?”

“To offer my protection, to both of you,” Dream said. “He was born of a dream and as such he was born with power. One day I fear there will be those that seek to use him for their own gain.”

Seeing the renewed fear in her eyes I stepped forward and smiled. “Don’t worry, between the two of us he’ll be safer than the pope.”

She laughed a little and took hold of my hand. “Why does it feel like I can trust you?”

“Because you can,” I answered. “You might not know me, but I’d never let anyone hurt a child. Nor would I attempt to steal one from its mother.” I sent Dream a glare over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding and no doubt fear it’s placed into your life unnecessarily.”

Rose lifted the basket up. “I mean if the amount of gifts they brought means anything I’d say they’re telling the truth.”

I took the soft raven plushie off the top of the pile and showed it to Rose. “Matthew’s contribution. May I?”

Lyta stiffened for a second, fear and anxiety plaguing her as she shifted to the side, letting me move toward Daniel. “Yeah.”

He was laying in his crib, oblivious to anything other than the small winding mobile hanging over him. When I bent over the side his eyes slid up to mine and a wide smile spread on his chubby cheeks as I held the raven out to him. His tiny hands took hold of it, “Jessamy.”

I smiled, tears swelling in my eyes as I studied the plushie. “It does look more like her, doesn’t it?”

Lyta and Rose came rushing to him, praising him for the word, quite possibly his first, as I looked back at Dream who smiled at the sight. It was awkward and full of tension, but it was a start. Dream rarely came with me when I visited Rose and Daniel and Lyta, but that was more to ease Lytas mind. He sent gifts with me, clothes and toys, books from Lucienne dedicated to recording Daniels first within The Dreaming. She had gushed over it for hours, pointing out how magnificent of a dreamer Daniel was.

The last time I visited them everything was the same as it always was, but this time when Daniel fell asleep with his plush raven I noticed a tiny name tag around its neck that read Jessamy. I smiled to myself at the thoughtfulness of it. Dream may not have visited often, but when he did he made sure he always left something behind for the growing boy.

***

The months that followed were hard, but unlike before it felt like Dream and I were a team. We solved problems together, he came to me for my council and considered my opinion before making any decisions. He even started delegating some of his work to me, teaching me how to do things around The Dreaming and trusting me to do what I felt was best. He even let me help him in designing new dreams and nightmares.

The residents of The Dreaming were glad to have me around and it seemed like they valued my contributions to their world. It took a while before they began to see the change in Dream, but once they did the change was almost instant. They were always happy to see him as he walked through the town, it was no longer simply respect that they showed him but also the love he had longed for from them. Dream would spend some time among them every day, creating things, conversing, listening to their complaints or criticisms and taking it into account. If there were changes that he could make, he would.

It was good to finally see him receiving the adoration he deserved. He still had moments of forgetfulness, but The Dreaming and its residents were far more understanding of it now that they understood. He was trying his best, and everyone saw it. Accepting that he had changed was difficult for him, but now that he was here he seemed far more willing to not only accept it but embrace it. Things between us only grew stronger as the days passed, and if possible I’d fallen even more in love with him.

I walked along the beach, toward the distant figure of Lucienne and Dream. This was where he liked to work, far from the noise of The Dreaming and somewhere open enough for him to create freely. The closer I got the more visible the new dream became and a smile pulled at my lips. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”

She laughed, the cosmic color of her dark skin lighting up and her wings flaring out proudly as she examined herself. “Thank you, Lucienne.” She smiled up at Dream. “May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?”

“I have no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that, so did you. But now I’m listening, or trying to.” He sent Lucienne a smile. “New dreams. New nightmares. A new age.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I moved closer with a bright smile. “Stealing my ideas now, Dream Lord?”

He chuckled. “You hardly invented butterfly wings, my lady.”

“They suit you, Gault.” I said to her, “You make a beautiful dream.”

“Thank you, my lady.” She bowed her head to me and then turned to Dream and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

She flew up into the sky, the blues and purples of her wings glittering in the sunlight. “I may be here a while. Would you mind taking care of things while I work?” He asked Lucienne.

“With pleasure, sir.” She answered happily as she bowed to us both and turned back towards The Dreaming.

Dream watched Gault fly into the clouds a moment before looking at me. “I believe there was another nightmare you wished to change.”

I nearly cried as I nodded. “Are you alright with that?”

“I am.” He said, and I could feel how deeply he meant it. “They have served you well in the past months, and they deserve to be what they wish.”

Holding the vial of storms in my hands I summoned the dark clouds and lightning. Storm looked around, confused for a moment before bowing. “My lord, my lady. Do you have need of me?”

“You once told me you wished to be a dream,” I started. “Do you still?”

They looked at Dream but nodded. “Yes.”

I placed the vial in their forming hands and held them tightly in my own, feeling the darkness and the cold winds between my palms. I focused on white clouds and calm seas, the sky as the sun rose and filled it with light and warmth. The vial shattered and wind swirled around us for a moment before light spread up Storms form, dark clouds shifting and changing color until they stood in front of me, calm puffy white clouds with hues of orange and purple, warm and filled with joy. “Then a dream you are, my friend.”

They looked at themselves, bright sunny eyes looking up at me with joy. “Thank you, my lady.”

“No, thank you. If not for you… your loyalty and friendship, well I wouldn’t be here.”

Dream stood beside me, a hand on my back. “I thank you, dream, for being there for my lady when I could not.”

They bowed. “It was my honor. But… Now I will not be able to serve you, my lady.”

“You don’t need to,” I answered. “Go, be a dream my friend. Feel the sun.”

“I need a new name,” they said. “Would you give me one, my lady?”

“What about Cloud Shaper?” I asked.

The clouds puffed up happily and the light hues shined brighter. “Cloud Shaper. You honor me, my lady.”

I watched them spread out over the sky, filling it with various shapes and hues of color, leaning into Dreams' side. “Thank you.” “I did nothing,” he insisted. “Now, I must return to my work, but I will join you later, my love.”

I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ve got to get back to work too. I’ll find you when I’m done?”

Dream pressed his head to mine for a moment. “I would like that.”

After I finished my duties I went to the library to spend some time with Lucienne while I waited for Dream to finish his work, but to my surprise he was already there. He and Lucienne spoke softly to one another. What was he planning? I asked myself as I walked closer, nearly tripping when three loud caws echoed in the room. Matthew was perched on the shelves between me and them, standing guard. They turned to me and smiled, ceasing their conversation as I moved closer. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Dream asked. Was he nervous?

I tilted my head. “You’re up to something.”

“Perhaps. But it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

Lucienne smiled wider. “You’re not going to tell me either?”

She laughed. “No, my lady, I fear I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“What about you Smokey?” I asked Matthew.

“Not a chance Penny.”

Dream held his hand out toward me with a smile. “Will you join me for a walk?”

I tapped my foot, pretending to think it through, before smiling up at him and taking his hand. “I suppose I could make time for you.”

“Busy are you?”

“Very!” I insisted. “I am Lady of the Dreaming, you know. It’s a very demanding position.”

“Oh I’m certain it is.”

He offered me his arm and I took it without question. We made our way through The Dreaming, greeting everyone we passed and the whole walk all I could feel was Dreams joy. He was happier than I’d ever seen him and in turn it made me feel even more joyful. At last, he was finding the balance between his duty and his people and I was proud of him. He’d come a long way. We walked down a new path, filled with tall trees and wildflowers swarmed with butterflies, it felt familiar the longer we walked. “What is this place?”

“Fiddlers Green,” he answered.

“The last of your missing Arcana?”

“Yes,” he said. “And somewhere you have wished to see for a long while.”

The path opened up to a field of wildflowers, in the distance a waterfall of crystal clear water roared to life, pouring into a lake that sparkled in the rising moonlight. It looked just like I imagined it would, no, how I pictured it could never do it justice. "It's beautiful."

"The sandman never forgets a dreamer," he said beside me.

With teary eyes I smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"After all you endured because of me," he paused, cold fingers gliding over the scars on my collarbone. "I owed you this at the very least."

"You're Dream of the Endless, you owe nothing to anyone, least of all me."

"I owe you everything, Penelope." It wasn't said out of obligation, but instead he said it like it was a simple fact. Nervousness tingled up my spine as he breathed out a breath. "None of this would have been possible without you."

"You would have done alright on your own," I assured him.

He swallowed thickly. "Perhaps, but it would not have been the same. You have reminded me of so much that I once thought lost, so much that I'd never thought I would want again. My subjects love, one to share my burdens with… A family." Turning toward me he smiled. "Penelope, I would give you anything you wished for and I promised you once that I would make you a queen if you wished it." 

"Morpheus," I whispered. "You are all I want, whether or not the title comes with it I don't care as long as I have you."

"Would you wish to become my Queen and bind yourself to me?" He suddenly asked, eyes shining.

I smirked. "Pretty sure we're already bound together. But yes, I would."

He lifted his hand, opening his palm to reveal a new moonstone ring, more beautiful and extravagant than the last. Two butterflies held up the gleaming stone set in a silver band of starlight. "Will you marry me, Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver?"

Happy tears filled my eyes as I nodded. "Yes. I will marry you, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." Once he slid the ring on my finger I grabbed his gem necklace and pulled his lips to mine. The Sandman never forgets a dreamer indeed. I thought, making him smile against my lips.

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[gilly-bj]

Sorry not to be rude ( I prolly worded this better in my head lol ) but when people say "isayama doesn't owe us anything" fr writing a bad ending or whatever, I laugh because he does??? ?? We are the audience , aot is source of income where do you think the money comes from? A fucking tree? It's a give & take relationship. As viewers we have the very right to criticize and ask for a better ending but in 139's case that's not even good enough, we need proper explanation for so many plot holes hello?? Even Isa himself believes that he needs to make the majority happy which is precisely why he went online searching for reviewed and comments from ppl. That's why it's a fan service ending bc the vast majority are either Ems who thrash ehs or ship em by default + ema Stans. And yes he did admit to making changes due to his editors in the past and if that ain't evident enough for the possibility that the ending in fact was charged last minute. Yes isayama can make mistake he is a human and he even said he regrets the ending which clearly tells us that it's the not the ending he wanted. Idk ppl be like "fans think as if they can make better ending" but yes it's true they can actually🤨 , if Isa himself isn't happy with it that means someone else CAN in fact make a better ending because surprise surprise Isa isn't the ONLY ONE with an understanding to his story and decent reading comprehension. It's okay to admit the ending was bad just because the entire series until that point has been a masterpiece, criticism isn't disrespectful it's having common sense to not blindly love what your favs puts out. Em Shipers are now screaming "y'all don't understand the interview" the fuck? How long are they gonna gaslight EHS even after continually getting what they want when are they gonna stop acting like it's not just EHs who didn't like the ending. Eh, Eren being the father made sense for the plotline, unbiased people can have no trouble admitting that. Em was picked up from the trash as a wallmart version of Romeo & Juliet ( even then they lacked "true love" concept by 100% ) at the cost of mikasa's character development. I remember defending 138 and I quote myself saying "isayama gave Mikasa the development of a lifetime" but now I can't even say that anymore because caniconally there is no evidence that supports that anymore. And I'm open to Mikasa critcisism bc i actually cared about her as an individual character. The way the news of Eren X Mikasa love comedy upseted me is because even as a joke we are gonna be stuck in that "Mikasa showed Erne how to love 😍😍💔" agenda with that collection 🤢🤢. Whatever the fuck I do not care anymore ( but I really do ) I just hope what we get for rivamika adds to the theory of Mikasa moving on and does not mess up our healing pace as fandom, I rest my case. 🕳️🏃‍♀️

Hi my dear @ackermanshoe and thank you for this looong ask! 

Okay joking apart, I agree with you. “Isayama doesn’t owe us anything” doesn’t make sense; when you post something online, it isn’t yours anymore. AOT is famous worldwide, he hasn’t written it just to keep it in a drawer of his desk. He’s giving us something, which is the time and “effort” he puts in creating the story, and we are giving him something else, popularity and money, that obviously doesn’t make happiness but we must accept that it is important. I don’t think he’s the type of person that just cares about the money; if he was, he would have stopped with season 3 but despite the fact that he was tired he decided to give aot a conclusion with the last arc that unfortunately ended the way we know. So I think that something happened; for me, it’s both his readers’ and editor’s fault. He probably saw many of them disliking the Marley Arc and when the editor talked with him about Erem*ka and the other fanservice shits we got in 139, he just said “ok fine” since he was tired of everyone. Rereading 139, the Erem*ka scenes really look like some kind of sarcastic criticisms towards their relationship. It looks like he made fun of it since everything is really absurd and stupid. And even if he didn’t owe us anything, we would have had the right to express our disappointment; when you work with audience you have to be ready to accept compliments and criticisms. Those excuses to me sounds like the words of an e* that doesn’t accept others opinion about their “canon” ship ☠🤡 They don’t understand that it’s not about shipping, everyone who just looked deeper into the story and wanted and expected the best for the last chapter didn’t like it, even non shippers. Some say it’s fine because everyone is alive but i don’t understand how can you say they are alive when their characters were fucking ruined, they are physically alive but those are not the characters we knew, especially Eren. Even non shippers said that Erehisu made more sense than E*, their ship is completely baseless; we have not misinterpreted the story for 11 years it was just obvious that Eren didn’t love Mikasa; it was confirmed various times that he saw her as a mum and not as a lover and where’s this extreme care he felt for Historia. When did he show that care for Mikasa ☠🤡??? He was ready to kill all his friends, including her. And the “Mikasa taught Eren how to love” is so disgusting that i can’t believe someone actually has the audacity to say that. What love? Does it look like love to you? When you love someone you want the their happiness and Eren said that he didn’t want Mikasa to be happy. He treated her like an object and that’s not romantic, AT ALL. It’s not about shipping it’s just that you have a completely wrong mentality if you think that treating a woman, a man, or basically a breathing human being like that is fine. Mikasa deserves more than a man like Eren, she deserves someone that respects her and loves her. I can’t believe there’s someone in this world that thinks that it’s an healthy relationship. Look, if you are an Erem*ka shipper and you think that their relationship is fine you better leave my blog because, honestly, a person with this wrong mentality doesn’t deserve my respect. Now, I’m sorry for this long post, but I had to vent out my frustration about e*. 

These are just opinions but I don’t regret a single word that is written here.

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part V/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back. Will it help, or will the situation just get more twisted and dangerous?

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune @retrxbarnes @montypythonsholysnail

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language

A/N: I've been kinda missing for quite a while, posting something here and there, but I kinda miss writing regularly so I'll try come back to posting twice-thrice a week, but you gotta give me a bit to get some shit rearranged and written for that schedule to be possible. Meanwhile, enjoy this part of the series and if you wanna be added to the taglist, send an ask <3.

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

I took a deep breath and threw myself against the backrest, waiting for the first location to load while my hands ran through up my face and through my hair.

A yawn escaped my lips as I checked the laptop's clock first, and the timer for the code to do its magic second.

Leaving the laptop over the chair where I had been sitting, I walked my way to the kitchen and poured myself what would be the fourth coffee of that morning.

As soon as I finished, I made my way to the balcony were I used to spend those early mornings with my mug held between my palms.

I took a sip of my coffee, resting my elbows over the small balcony's railing. My were eyes closed as I breathed in the forest morning breeze.

"So much for saying it was a one-night stand." A teasing voice behind me asked, and a grin tugged the corners of my lips. "You still here?"

"It's been two weeks since that." I taunted him, taking a sip. "get over it."

"can't get over you." He dramatically stated in his morning husky voice, which made the sentence seem way more romantic than I thought it was.

"So fucking cheesy." I laughed.

"Bare with me, doll." feeling his lips against my temple made my smile wider while a pair of hands traveled from behind me to rest on my hips. "this is mine." he tugged the hem of his jacket, which I was wearing.

I hummed in response, leaning my back against his chest. "It's chilly out here. I didn't wanna get cold."

He tugged the hem of his jacket eagerly, feathery kisses tracing a path from my shoulder to my neck "come back to bed" I chuckled at his eagerness . " it's still warm."

"I got work to do" I replied noctant with the sole goal of sort-of upsetting him in a playful way. "No time for cuddling."

"Please, Y/n." he whined, slowly pulling me away from the balcony to take me back to the bed. "Just ten minutes."

"It's not gonna be ten minutes." I retorted playfully, turning around to kiss his lips as we entered the bedroom once more. "You're not fooling anyone with those puppy eyes, Barnes."

He let out a subtle laugh "at least you won't get cold."

I shivered.

It was always a little bit too chilly during the morning in that balcony.

I felt the urge to squeal when a jacket was suddenly thrown over my shoulders as a reply to my subtle shiver.

I held it back, though, and instead, grabbed the lapels clothing offered and put it on while a tall figure made its way to my side "Drop the coffee, yunky." Sam teased, resting his elbows over the railing without sparing me more than a subtle glance. "it's like the tenth one I see you with this mornin'."

"It's just the fourth one." I responded, looking before me to avoid eye contact with him as I took a sip of the coffee. "It's nice to see your level of drama hasn't changed at all."

"it's good to see your level of sarcasm is still the same, too." I shook my head with a smirk I couldn't hold back. "I kinda missed that annoying sass."

"Oh boy, ain't I aware of that."

His amused yet brief chuckle preceeded a surprisingly soothing silence between the two of us.

"So" I looked over to him and, by the knowing half smile in his face as he watched me intently, I just knew what he was going to mention. "a boyfriend?"

"Hell no," I denied with a scoff. "we're not talking 'bout that."

"C'mon, Y/n." he whined, turning to face my side. "I won't tell Barnes."

"Sam" I pinched the bridge of my nose as all the bad memories from those last days with them came back around, as if they had been summoned by Bucky’s last name. "I still don't trust you. Any of you."

"Uh... Sorry."

"Like-- I appreciate you tryin" I explained the best way I could. "but we're not there yet, and I don't know if we ever will."

"Yeah I'm-"

I shut my eyes as the self-awareness of how rude I might have sounded hit me. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, no, I'm sorry, you're right." he sighed, rubbing is hands together in an anxious manner. "And... I know it's not my place to ask any of this, but-" he took a split second to measure his words before speaking. "You're happy with him, right?"

I frowned, not at the question itself, but at what was carefully hidden behind it. "what d'ya mean?"

"I mean, you're with him because he makes you happy, right?"

"Wilson, why the fuck would I be with him if he didn't?" I inquired, now turning around to face him as my tone turned more hostile each passing second.

"I shouldn't be sayin' this but-"

"But you're gonna say it anyway." I finished. He opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "C'mon, what d'ya mean?"

"Listen-" he glanced around before continuing the sentence he had just started. "I'm just sayin I hope it's 'cause you're happy together and not 'cause of Bucky."

We eyeballed each other for a hot second while the anger built up inside me, making it so damn hard for me not to explode.

"Y'know what? I'm not havin' it." I stated, stepping away from the balcony in order to reach the living room.

"That's not an answer."

"You don't fuckin' deserve one." I hissed, grabbing the laptop to finish what was left to do as quickly as I could, now eager to flee out of there.

How dare him? I thought to myself. Who the fuck gave him the right to say shit like that.

The moment I was done with the laptop, I smacked it shut and, picking up my jacket, I rushed downstairs.

I was so inside my thoughts that I ended up bumping into Bucky on my way out, which left us both with barely enough balance to avoid falling down the stairs.

"Shit- sorry."

"Don't worry." he let go of my forearms, which I didn't know he was holding, and I shockingly enough, had to do the same, since I gripped his arms to avoid falling. "You okay?"

"Yeah- I mean..." I puffed, affirming with my head. "I'm fine."

"I..." I stared into his eyes for a moment, watching him trying to read me in order to find out what was wrong. "You sure?" I only nodded as his worried irises observed me. "you finished?"

"Yeah, everything's set in the laptop already." he mumbled an 'alright' and stepped aside, freeing the way for me to exit. "I... I really hope you find her."

"I'll call you if I need your help again." he answered, and, right after, attempted to climb upstairs.

"Bucky wait!" I followed him just to be close enough to be able to grab his hand, which made his whole body tense. "I changed my number." I explained whilst getting a pen out of my pocket to scribble my new number on his palm. "there it goes." I let go of him with a pang of sadness that I wouldn't even admit to myself. "keep me updated." I requested, trying my best to ignore the tinge of red creeping up his neck and ears.

"Okay. Have a good time with your boyfriend." what was meant to be a smile ended up as a pursed lip, and I couldn't blame him since I felt my mouth doing the same gesture as I climbed downstairs to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I double checked Natasha's phone's latest locations, which Y/n had managed to get before leaving, before going back to the map in order to revise which were areas out of New Jersey and Queens.

"Hey" I spun my head to the door frame, against where Sam's side was now resting. "How's it going?"

"Uh... I think we have something." I informed him, pointing at one small area near the center of Manhattan. "I called Carter— I know, Steve's gonna kill me." I stated, anticipating whatever Sam must have thought of saying out loud. "She said Hydra's boys have been seen in this area for a while and--"

"I wasn't asking 'bout Nat." he cut me off, tilting his head to the side slightly while the faintest tinge of worry showed up in his eyes. "I meant-- y'know what I meant."

"What d'ya want me to say?" I questioned with a wannabe-careless shrug. "It's going. Just like it's been goin' for 'bout year already."

I took a peek at his face and I just knew he was about to explain to me how different it had been today from the rest of that year of me drowning in self-pity.

"Don't-"

"She got a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I heard that too." I replied sarcastically, getting up in order to reach for the phone again.

"What I mean-"

"She moved on, I know." I finished his sentence, starting to mark Peggy's number once again. "Can you focus on-"

Sam teared the phone away from me in a swift movement, which left me shocked for a couple of seconds.

"what the hell, Wilson?"

"Don't call Peggy," he warned me, locking the phone and placing it in his pocket. "Steve's gonna end you. And-"

"I swear if it's 'bout-"

"I wasn't gonna say that she moved on, you idiot." he snapped. "I was gonna say, don't do anything fucking stupid."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means she's not single." my friend warned me with arms crossed, no longer resting against the door frame. "It means that if somethin' happens and she doesn't stop it-"

"Nothin'll happen," I assured him with a sting of pain in my heart.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Sam."

"I'm tryna help, man." his reply sounded as a desperate whine. "If you do something stupid and her relationship goes south, the blame's gonna be on you."

"It wouldn't-"

"It will," he argued, lowering the voice before continuing. " 'cause it's easier to blame the ex who fucked her up."

"We're all adults."

"Yeah" he agreed. "but you're my friend and I don't wanna see you bawling and weeping for another year."

"I'll be just fine."

[gotnofucks]

So, I think I need a tub of ice to lay in and cool myself because I tell you, I'm burning. This was so freaking hot that the fire inside me is going to burn me completely.

Holy Fucking shit Lexi. I admit I'd been sort of over Ransom for a while, but what a way to come back to him. You have done so much justice to his character. A sleazy bastard who would play dirty to get what he wants. He really doesn't take a no, does he?

I love the reader's characterization too! Such a bold girl who is not afraid to do whatever she needs to for herself. I am a sucker for everyone who explores their sexuality and yes this reader was so fun to read. She handled Ransom and his dick like a pro, and even though she's been cheated at the end, I'm sure Ransom would find it difficult to defuse her fire.

The way you weave your stories is another thing I simply can't get enough of. Your storytelling is so seamless and fluid, so natural that it read like a movie. Absolutely in love with the way you describe actions and situations. The smut was so well written, it's no wonder my legs are parted (had I not been sitting in the middle of my family, you can guess where my hands would be). That was such a difficult scene to write but damn oh damn did you write it well and oh fuck how hot was it! Absofuckinglutely sizzling!

This was quintessentially Ransom. An arrogant, rich, entitled prick does whatever he wants. But I know that with his orgasm delivering dick, and the fire inside the reader, she ain't gonna be getting the shorter end of the deal for long. I loved this! 🖤

Can you please write a smut with Ransom Drysdale

Where Ransom stumbles onto the reader’s only Fans and he gets really turn on and messages her asking if they can meet up. The reader is very hesitant but then Ransom offers her like 500K so she agrees and they meet up and have WILD sex including anal, degrading, cock worship🥵! In the end Ransom reveals that he filmed the whole time they were fucking and tells her to post it on her only fans.

Oooh, anon, I love the way you thinkkkkk🥵😉😉😈😈😈 Sorry it took so long, I was caught up with uni work.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, darkish themes, Ransom being Ransom, NSFW, dub-con, {non-con (if you squint)}, oral sex, blowjobs, cock worship, slight degradation kink, anal sex, use of toys, shameless PWP tbh, bad language, swearing, MINORS DNI.

A/N: This was honestly so fun to write; really challenging and darker than I usually write. Also, it's filthy. By my standards hahahaha. Hope you enjoy! This pic is the inspo for this lil' piece. Minors pls don't read; you are responsible for your media consumption. Thank you. I post my work only on AO3 and Tumblr, nowhere else. Please do not reproduce my work anywhere else. Not beta'ed, any mistakes made, grammatical or otherwise, are all my own. Dividers by the wickedly talented @firefly-graphics 💓

Join my taglist and check out my masterlist for more!! Likes are welcome, reblogs are appreciated.💓

A Deal with Drysdale.

Ransom grunted as he rolled over, pushing off the girl’s hand from his torso. Katherine, Kathy, what was it again? Didn’t matter, she was a boring fuck. Couldn’t even go one fucking round. And what is it with women fake moaning? He swore he coulda slapped her with all that loud yodelling.

“Hey handsome? Fancy another round before I leave?” she drawled from behind him, as he took a shot of whisky. Turning around, he threw her clothes at her, “No. Take your shit and leave.”

The blonde huffed, squeezing herself into that obscenely short piece of clothing she called a dress. No doubt cost her daddy a lot, he thought.

"You’re a dick, Ransom.” she screamed, standing at his main door. "And you’re a terrible fuck with fake tits. Now get out.” he drawled. He watched with a smirk as he saw her slam the door and get into her expensive car. He was used to women like her, vicious gold diggers. She would be bouncing on another rich dude’s dick by the end of the day, he was sure of it.

Sighing, he plonked himself onto his bed, scrolling through his Instagram. Some of the girls here were kind of his type; certainly for the night, he thought. Scrolling through his explore page, he double tapped on pics of girls with clearly fake asses who were “super into” yoga, scoffing at how most of them spent their days drinking and passed out on the floors of different strangers' homes.

Something caught his eye. It was a picture of you, coyly hiding behind a tree, but very obviously naked. Ransom couldn’t describe what he felt, but something about that picture was alluring. He felt drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. He had to have you, no matter what. Clicking on the link in your bio, he was surprised to be redirected to your onlyfans page.

Scrolling through your it, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Every picture of you, every short clip, was sheer art. Your curves, your decadent body, your seemingly smooth curves, all appealed to him, like a siren’s call. He closed his eyes as he took himself in his hand, imagining you on top of him. He came with a shout, his spend coating the sheets and his hand. He had made up his mind, and as he texted you, a plan formed in his head.

You pulled up into the parking lot of the quaint little diner, a pit slowly forming in your stomach. This was the first time you'd actually gotten a request to meet up. Normally it was just horny guys or girls asking to see "more of you", but never a message giving you a time and place. You often wondered how you'd gotten into this world of erotica; but school was expensive, and your parents were no-good alcoholics, who spent every waking moment drowning their sorrows in cheap tequila and half-used cigarettes.

Stepping inside, you took in the interior, the homely setting a stark contrast to the conversation you were about to have. Your eyes scanned the place, looking for the man who turned your mind into mush without even meeting you. The host asked you for a name and then ushered you to a private booth, separated from the main area. Whoa.

You finally saw him. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. He lived up to the power that his name exuded. Dark hair, coiffed up with gel, not a hair out of place. He looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine; devilishly handsome was a phrase that came to mind. His dark maroon sweater encasing his body, with his arm draped loosely on the back of his seat, you took him in deducing that he was probably a spoiled guy, used to getting what he wanted, not taking no for an answer.

"If you're done checking me out, sweetheart, take a seat." He drawled, his eyebrow raised as he smirked at your gawking. Your cheeks warmed as you sat down, embarrassed to be called out like that. You hoped the rest of the conversation went better than the first impression you set out.

"I must say, I don't normally get requests like this, so I was quite surprised when you reached out."

He raised an eyebrow, taking a swig of his beer. You could feel him eyeing you, scanning every inch of you with his blue-greens. It was disarming, intimidating and yet, intriguing. Clearing your throat, you order yourself a peach iced tea, wanting to keep a clear head around him. You crossed your legs, your core throbbing a little already. Oh no.

"To set things straight, this isn't a date. I don't do that shit. But I have a proposition for you."

"A..proposition?"

"Yes. I enjoyed your onlyfans, but it lacked stuff which is more...my taste. So, for a night, of my choosing, I wish to "hire" you, in a manner of speaking, to do as I please. You'll be paid for it, obviously, but I need to know where you stand before we take this forward."

You took his words in, eyes widening with every syllable he spoke.

"...Hire me? That's...not what I do, Mr. Drysdale." you muttered, your hackles rising. Men.

He snorted. "I'll buy you dinner before that, or some shit like that. It could be a post-dinner date fuck, then."

Taking a swig, he continued, "I'll make it worth your while. Just name your price."

You scowled, looking away. This man was truly incorrigible. And rude.

"Look, sweetheart, consider this flattering, 'cause I don't normally do this shit. But there's something intriguing about you, and I have to have you. It isn't like you're whoring around, consider this a gift from a wealthy benefactor."

Pursing your lips, you gaze out of the window, pondering. Much as you hated to admit it, you did need the money. You couldn't make ends meet with your tuition fees, and textbooks, and other expenses. This would help you immensely. You knew what you had to do.

"I have some ground rules. And a few things I will absolutely not do. If we agree upon those and the amount, I think we have ourselves a deal."

His gaze darkened, his smile widening slowly. You could sense his sinister intentions, and you'd be lying if you said that it didn't make you wet. This man was beautiful, but deadly. You had just signed a deal with the devil. You hoped you wouldn't regret it.

Walking on the graveled path leading upto his door, the pit in your stomach only deepened. Why? Was it because he was a Drysdale? Or because something felt amiss? The modern house with it's glass façade did little to assure you, rather made you wonder about what this man had in store.

Whatever it was, you'd hoped he made it worth your while.

"So 500K for allowing you to do whatever with me, as you please?

"Yes. That's just an initial number, depends on how well it goes." He said, his eyes glinting.

You squirmed under his gaze. You were wet, and you were sure that he could sense that. He didn't break eye contact even for a second, taking a swig of his beer, a droplet making it's way down his chin. Your lips parted, breath coming heavily. You wanted to lick that droplet, you wanted to taste him.

"Go to the bathroom and wait for me there." He rasped, his voice scratchy and hoarse with arousal. It went staright to your core, feeling the material of your panties get damper, as you slipped away and made your way to the restroom, heart beating with anticipation.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your pupils dilated and your nipples rock hard. This man had overwhelmed you, and he hadn't even touched you yet. The door opened and he walked in, the gaze of a predator upon its prey. He grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, flush against his chest, his crotch against your hip. He kissed you, with hunger, his hands making their way to your hips, hitching a leg on his waist, as he rubbed himself against you. You gasped, clutching onto his shirt for balance, the coarse material of his pants and the cool metal of the zipper moving against your heated core. Not breaking contact with your lips, his hand made its way under your dress, rubbing you through the fabric of your damp underwear. You moaned, your hand covering his, pushing him closer and urging him on. He smiled, pushing aside the material and circling your clit and your wet folds. He groaned, feeling your wetness envelop his fingers as he plunged a finger inside your channel. You bit his earlobe, unable to contain your moans. Dropping his forehead against yours, he muttered,

"This is how good I can make you feel, sweetheart. Just say yes and I can show you the best night of your life. We'd be great together, with those gorgeous moans of yours filling my ears as I split you open with my cock. Just. Say. Yes." He grunted, feeling your walls quiver in anticipation.

"Fuck, Ransom, yes yes yes!" You screamed, your walls clamping down against his fingers, your release coating his fingers. He held you for a moment, placing you down before sucking his fingers dry and leaving, as quickly as he had entered.

The little sexcapade you'd had earlier had blurred your sense of judgement. Lust was in the driver's seat then, but now, it was rationality. Absentmindedly, you hoped no one had heard you in the bathroom, you'd quite liked that diner.

It's just a one time thing. It won't happen again, you promised yourself as you knocked on the door.

Or atleast you hoped.

The door swung open, the deep blue eyes staring into yours, your core tightening already. He grasped your hand, pulling you inside.

You marvelled at how neatly maintained the house was. He did seem to have singular tastes, and not just sexually. Pulling you into his room, he stood beside the queen sized bed.

"Remember, you agreed to this. Anything goes, and anything I want."

"Y..yes." you faltered, his eyebrow raising at that.

"Is there something you want to ask, sweetheart? 'Cause if you're backing out, the money goes away too, I hope that much is clear."

"Yes, I am aware. And I'm not backing out."

"Wouldn't hold it against you even if you did. Some girls just can't hold up under this...intensity." he spoke, his eyes glimmering dangerously.

Emboldened by the fire he awoke in you by challenging you, you grasped his hand and walked over to the plush lounge chair in the room. Pushing him down to take his seat, you make your way to the mini-bar, marvelling at his collection of spirits. Ransom smirked, eyebrow cocked. Taking the glass from your hand, he brought the glass up to his lips, only to be stopped by you. You took the glass from his hand, taking a sip from it. Settling yourself on his lap, you touched your lips to his, letting the liquid flow from your mouth into his. He swallowed the amber liquid, the burn of the liquor cooling the burning lust inside him. You meshed your lips to him, marvelling in the taste of the whisky and him, intermingling and threatening to intoxicate you with just one taste. You felt his fingers on your waist, pulling you closer, until not even an inch of space remained.

Pulling away, you both panted, as you scooted off, settling yourself between his legs. You kissed his thighs over his pants, needing to feel him as you undid his pants, his shaft tall against his stomach. You looked at it hungrily, like a starving man at a buffet. Taking him in your hands, you left small kisses at his bulbous head, earning a small inhale from him. You left sloppy, wet kisses along his inner thighs, briefly laving his sac with your tongue, your eyes not leaving his deep blue hues. He looked at you with such hunger in his eyes; you were sure that by the end of the night, you would not be able to walk properly.

Your mouth completely engulfed him in a single move, your tongue teasing the underside of his shaft. Pulling off with a pop, you smirk at him, stroking him lightly at first, and then tightening your grip. He groaned, his legs tightening around your torso as you continued stroking him, taking his sac and swirling your tongue around, enjoying the feel of him on your tongue. Taking himself in hand, he caught you off guard as he thrust into your open mouth, holding you there till you gagged. Pulling off, you took a deep breath, before hearing him say,

"I'm gonna fuck that slutty mouth of yours so hard, kitten."

With that, he began thrusting into your mouth, with abandon, keeping himself in your mouth as he got up to get a better traction, pulling you to lean against the chair. He kept his merciless rhythm going, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You thanked god you wore waterproof mascara, for you were sure that you were drooling and tearing up. He sped up his actions, roughly holding you down as he came in your mouth, his spend coming out in spurts on your tongue, the salty tang hitting you immediately.

"Swallow every single drop of it. I don't want to see even a drop on my floor, kitten." He grunted, pulling out of your mouth, stroking himself to get the rest of his cum on your chest and torso. You swallowed, getting the rest of it on your finger and licking it clean, much to his appraising eyes.

"Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun with you, kitten. The night's only just begun."

You look at the clock in the room. 10:45. By this time, you've lost count of the number of orgasms Ransom has coaxed out of you. He'd bent you over the desk in his room, licking your folds with such rapacity you were sure your legs would give way. He heard you keen and wouldn't stop his intrepid tongue, adding 3 fingers into your channel, making you scream out in ecstacy, your juices dripping down his fingers and your legs.

Next, he'd taken you against the wall, hitching a leg up around his hip as he fucked you, with a punishing rhythm, till you swore you felt like you would pass out. As he felt you tighten around him, he pulled out, bracing you against the bar counter, the cool marble a stark contrast to your overheated and sweaty body, your nipples pebbling at the sensations.

"You have an extraordinary ass, kitten, and I'm gonna fuck it. But first.."

You felt a cool object press against your crack, causing you to jerk and look behind you, only to see a butt plug in Ransom's hand. A glass butt plug. It was larger than what your normally used, not to mention more expensive than your normal plastic ones.

"A..glass...butt plug??"

"Only the best for my kitten." He grinned, rubbing slow circles along your folds. You moaned, relaxing as bit as you felt the cool glass being inserted, the sensation exquisite, yet strange. You tried to move away from the intrusion, but Ransom held onto you tightly, trying to relax you by circling around your clit, his hot tongue laving at your pulse point. You moaned as you felt the cool glass move, Ransom thrusting it in and out of you, getting you ready for his cock.

And now, here you were, in his bed, bent till your legs were next to your ears, your ass in the air as Ransom entered the puckered hole from above, the both of you sighing at the sensation. Ransom started off slow, letting you savour him inch by inch. You slightly tensed, but relaxed once he was fully seated inside you, spreading the moisture gathered at your folds, with his thumb. Your breath hitched as Ransom began moving, each thrust hitting new spots and making you see stars. The position let him go deep, and made your toes curl. He spanked your ass as he thrust, the action only adding onto the pleasure. You groaned, allowing yourself to relax and give in to the steady rhythm he was setting. He pulled out abruptly, moving to the bedside table, pulling out a condom, as you looked on, quite bewildered.

"As much as I love going in raw, I need to cum inside your sweet pussy, but I don't want a fucking kid."

He retook his earlier position, holding down your legs as he thrust inside your channel in one swift move, buried to the hilt. You were sure you warbled, the position hitting the front wall square on. He let himself go, the grip on your thighs tightening with each thrust. Ransom went wild, there was no other word for it. At some point he put the plug inside you again, the combination of the cold intrusion and Ransom's hot cock threatening to wipe your mind clean of any rational thought. All you could do is hang on as he fucked you into the mattress, the position making sure that he hit your spot everytime. You could feel the coil in your belly tightening again, your walls snug against him.

"...R..ransom...don't stop please...'m so close..." you breathily whispered, words evading you.

He bent a little, hitting the bellyache square on. You screamed as you reached your peak, your toes curling, your velvet walls engulfing him, joining him to you.

With a few frenzied thrusts, he came, with a shout, your name a litany on his lips as he emptied himself inside you, your walls slightly twitching around him. He pulled the toy out of you while simultaneously pulling out of you, growling at the sight of your swollen folds and puckered hole. Straightening your legs, he let you rest as he went to the bathroom to clean himself off and dispose off the condom.

As he slipped next to you in bed, a wicked smile formed on his face. Time for the second part of the plan.

You woke up the next morning, sun streaming through the drapes. Shifting slightly, there was a dull ache permeating through your body, your core sore from all the activities. Ransom was spooning you, his arm around your waist, his member sitting hot and heavy against your ass. You couldn't help but grin. You had your trepidations, but last night had been amazing. You had to admit, Ransom was great in bed. You would've thought that he would be selfish, and a bit more demanding; you were proven wrong tho.

Carefully, you got out of bed, making your way to the bathroom, walking gingerly. You were right; you were sore beyond belief, your legs and your glutes burning in the most delicious way. You cleaned yourself up and entered the room, to see Ransom still fast asleep. Dressing up quickly, you looked around the room, realising that you didn't really have a chance to check out the room. You deduced that he was somewhat of a minimalist; geometric bookcases, vases, and even decorative pieces. You pulled out a book from the bookcase, only to have a circular object catch your eye. Reaching up, you pulled out the object from it's hiding spot. Your heart dropped as you realised what it was. The fucking sleazeball.

"Oh kitten, I wish you hadn't found out like this. I was about to tell you all about it."

You whirled around, eyes flashing angrily. "Tell me what, that you were making a sordid sex tape with me, WITHOUT even telling me?! You sick pervert, who even does that?!" You yelled, moving away to maintain distance. His face hardened, jaw clenching in annoyance.

"Don't act like you're an innocent virgin who doesn't know anything about anything, sweetheart. You have a fucking onlyfans, for fucks sake. As I said, everything on your page wasn't to my taste, so this is my way of making sure that there is. Simple." Moving closer, he continued, "and let's be honest. Yesterday night's footage was fuckin' GOLD. You could sell it and be a fucking millionaire. Face it, sweetheart, J just made you easy money, and you should be thanking me, not fucking yelling like a psycho!"

You turned away from him, disgusted. This man undermined you, every chance he got. It made you feel like a cheap whore, being recorded without your consent.

"Since you won't see reason, I'll make you another deal. An added 200K for uploading this clip on your onlyfans. My face is hidden, so no one can tell it's me. You can edit the clip the way you want, and all the money you make from this is what you get to keep." A small grin formed on his face as he spoke the next words. "However, the only promise is that you have to be here whenever I call you. And I'm free to do whatever I want."

You didn't know how to react. After a minute's silence, you gathered enough courage to ask, "and what if I don't agree to this?"

Raising his eyebrows, he said, "then i'll put out the raw unedited footage online. I'm not sure how that would look on your college record or future job prospects, for that matter; should you be identified. After all, my face is hidden, but yours is not."

You could feel a sheen of tears on your eyes. There really was no way out of this. The asshole had made sure of it. That's the perk of being rich and connected, you realised bitterly. Rules and morality simply don't apply to you. Taking a deep breath, you make your decision.

"I guess, since there is no way out, I'll accept your deal. But if I'm not comfortable with something, I won't do it. And you won't record me in future...meetings. Also, you'll pay me in advance before meeting up."

Crossing his arms, he grinned salaciously. "I accept all the terms sweetheart, you have yourself a deal."

Moving closer, he rasped into your ear, "now whatsay we seal this deal with a kiss?"

You gulped audibly. This was a deal with the devil. And you were sure to regret it.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I DON'T THINK THIS HAD A PLOT. UGHHH.

[saintfvck]

//I'm gonna guess that half your followers are white girls and a shite tone have some form of anxiety issue and their hearts just hit the floor. Ain't nobody need that kind of negativity.

Well I only have roughly fifty followers (here, at least) so half of that being white?

hmmm not sure! couldn’t say. i actually think the rp community tends to be more diverse than that but this is a very small portion of people to take a sample of so i really don’t know.

i’m going to accept the part of something that IS very much negative. it’s not something i think a lot of people want to accept being, esp in this community where there are people who actually fake being good and kind just to keep their thousands of followers and despite admitting they do that they are still hailed for this fake attitude. i’m not much for playing games like that. i’m not a nice person. i’m an okay person but i am loud and i am honest and i am unapologetic about the things i think are important.

i’m not the best person to hold your hand and give you critiques that will feel like landing on feather pillows. there are those better suited for that and if you don’t like how i say something you are more than welcome to ignore me. however, i also get that sometimes ignoring someone who says something the way i do is hard.

so i’ll accept that what i’m about to say is still negative but i’ll do you a favor and couple it with a tiny bit of softness because i have a feeling i know who sent this:

here is the softness: you are better than that. you are better than you know. you are capable. you are able.

here is the negative part: calling out shitty original characters does need to happen. explaining why someone is not interesting to others needs to happen. trying to blanket the truth with fake encouragement does not need to happen. yes, every person that writes is better than they know and more capable than they realize to create amazing and diverse stories and characters. no, they do not need to be told, “it’s okay, that’s just one person’s small minded opinion” when it comes to a person calling out how bland and boring and gross it is to normalize every OC written being a basic white muse with no real development that speaks to a wider, global culture.

i think we need to speak more honestly about the lack of poc representation and how OCs that are the most boring, bland white folks are being lauded (lala land anyone?) while POC muses are being blatantly ignored.

and maybe your argument is “that person isn’t a POC behind the muse, they aren’t comfortable playing anyone that isn’t white.”

and i’d say that’s no excuse. i’m tired of this trend of OCs and I am tired of seeing good POC OCs ignored instead.

So remember something, your heart may hit the floor if you are a white girl with a bland white girl muse reading me saying that shit is gross and boring and tiresome but i can tell you right now that you don’t get nearly half the anxiety a person with a POC muse gets, or a person who is POC and writing something that is different than a white story gets. I’m not a POC myself so I won’t even pretend I have any right to sit here and claim that anxiety of the second part but I would love for any POC mun with their POC muse to chime in and explain why they have no sympathy for someone who is “hurt” and made “anxious” by being told their basic white muse is boring and tired.

And also: your anxiety issue is not to be held over my head as an excuse as to why no one can call out gross, normalized trends in this rp community.

[thepaintedlady00]

Chapter 16 Title & Beginning Preview

Since the vote was so close, here's the title and beginning preview as well!

The Path Paved In Golden Flames

Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”

“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.

The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”

“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”

The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”

The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”

“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”

Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”

***

The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"

"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."

He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."

"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.

Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"

"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."

I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"

Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."

He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."

Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"

"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”

I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”

Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”

He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”

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