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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 20

Chapters: 20/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Important notice: I am aware of the current allegations against Neil Gaiman and made a statement here.

With the Corinthian finally out of the picture, Morpheus could prepare to eradicate the Vortex from his realm without further interruptions. Rose's tragic fate weighed heavily on your heart, as Morpheus chose to remove you from the Waking World and bring you to the Dreaming for advanced protection.

Morpheus stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets and legs slightly apart. His stance conveyed irritation, disappointment, and a disconcerting level of worry.

You pushed yourself off the wall completely, nervously intertwining your fingers. "Hey.”

He advanced slowly but steadily, drawing his hands out and clenching them into fists at his sides. What could you possibly say to justify your actions? Fabricating a lie would be futile; with your Dreamstone emitting his energy and signaling impending danger, convincing him would have been utterly impossible.

And so, you surrendered to whatever fate awaited you.

"The Corinthian is her-”

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice laced with anger.

You gulped, inhaled deeply, and released a trembling sigh. "Honestly? I don't have an answer to that.”

"Do you believe this to be a game for you to meddle with?”

"I never considered it a game. How could I?”

He shut his eyes and pursed his lips in frustration. "I did not give you that jewel just so you could chase my Nightmares."

You shook your head. "I promise you, that's not what I intended to do. I heard Rose was coming here to pick up her brother, and somehow I... I felt like something was horribly wrong. That she might be in danger.”

"I specifically requested that you stay out of it. For your sake.”

That he did, in his own way of speaking. It wasn't your burden to bear when you were meant to keep living your life in the Waking World. You should have known that he meant for you to never interfere, not even—and especially—in case of a negative development.

“Yes, but-”

Morpheus's eyes were piercing your very soul, a storm brewing within their depths. "’But’ what?”

"I care about you,” you said, your voice unsteady. “Whether you accept it or not, I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

Morpheus's face relaxed, though the tension in his posture remained. "Your concern is noted, but your interference could have dire consequences.”

"What was I supposed to do? Should I have acted like I didn't feel anything? Waited for the Vortex to destroy everything you’ve built, along with my own world?”

He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "You were supposed to trust me. To trust that I would take care of it.”

"You know that I trust you more than anyone else. But I can't just set aside my instincts, especially when I know what's at stake.”

Morpheus sighed, the weight of his responsibilities and his feelings for you evident in his grimace. "You must understand, your presence here complicates matters.”

With the Corinthian on the loose and his realm threatened by the Vortex in the Nightmare’s grasp, the last thing Morpheus needed was for you to add to his burdens. Although you didn’t truly expect to find the Corinthian in Georgia, acting on nothing but a gut feeling and venturing there alone inevitably made you seem like a pathetic wannabe hero with no real purpose.

Certainly, you weren’t expecting to end up surrounded by a cult of twisted serial killers on top of everything else.

And so, you nodded, absorbing the gravity of his words. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I acted on impulse without thinking.”

He reached out, cupping your face gently in his hands. "Y/N, your well-being is paramount to me. You must promise me that you will stay safe.”

You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in it despite the chaos surrounding you. "Let me help in any way I can. Even if it's just staying by your side.”

"No. Not this time.”

You bowed your head in resignation.

"Wait for me to return to you. Avoid putting yourself in danger.”

“But… what about the Dreamstone? Won’t it just—”

“I said, no.”

His refusal left a bitter taste in your mouth, yet, given the situation, you couldn't muster any offense.

He entrusted you with the necklace to guard you against any external threats, no matter their origin. It saved you from the fire explosion in the studio, and just moments earlier, from the Corinthian’s hunger for your eyes.

Clearly, there were no certainties left, with the Vortex on the brink of obliterating everything in its path. He stood firm, refusing to reconsider. All you could do was accept his protective nature.

"Fine," you sighed heavily. “I’ll do as you say.”

Morpheus tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes once more. "It is almost over, my love," he said solemnly. “Have faith in me.”

"I do have it, Morpheus,” you responded, reluctantly taking a step back. “Still, be careful.”

“I will.”

With one last lingering touch, Morpheus turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. You watched him vanish, your heart heavy with love and worry, as you stood alone in the deserted corridor, pondering your options. Considering the Corinthian's conference on the lower floor, staying put might minimize the risk of running into any of his deranged followers. You also remembered overhearing him conversing with someone in one of the suites, though the wall had obscured the room number.

You mulled it over for a moment before it all clicked. Perhaps he had indeed trapped Rose, Jed, and Gilbert to carry out his sinister plans. If that's the case, finding your friends and the boy shouldn't be too difficult.

But just as you were about to move, your feet froze in place again, your stomach knotting up as a voice in your head formed words you knew you couldn't heed.

"Go to him," it said. "Find Morpheus.”

No, you were supposed to follow his instructions, staying far away from the Corinthian and any potential risk lurking nearby. While the Dreamstone around your neck provided a sense of security, Morpheus had been explicit, and disappointing him was something you intended to keep off your to-do list.

And yet, you kept scanning your surroundings, glancing back to where he had disappeared and then forward, ultimately yielding to the tug of your intuition. Because the question remained unanswered: would Morpheus be invulnerable now that his realm had continually deteriorated? You didn't doubt that he could stop his own creation from causing a dream apocalypse and prevent the Waking World from collapsing alongside the Dreaming, but there was a pressing need in your heart that compelled you to pivot on your heels and descend the stairs.

And so you did, walking as fast as you could, maneuvering your way through the convention area. You remembered passing by the conference room during your inspections, and navigating the space had now become quite familiar to you.

The crowd of attendees had visibly thinned, with only a few people strolling around, enjoying their break with a fresh drink by the pool outside, or chatting in the corners. None of them seemed to pay any attention to your distress, allowing you to walk undisturbed.

Morpheus was going to be livid, you could already predict it. But that was insignificant compared to the enormous chasm of fear forming inside you.

When you arrived at the large double doors, you took a few deep breaths and grasped one of the cold bars to push your way through. The door emitted a soft creak as you opened it, prompting you to pause and listen for any reaction on the other side.

Nobody seemed to have heard you; the distant voices of Morpheus and the Corinthian filled the silent atmosphere. A large group of people sat motionless in front of the stage, all oddly immobile, holding the same, identical position in their seats.

"Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century, infecting others with your joy of death. But what have you given them?”

Morpheus was confronting his creation, standing inches away from the false man who exuded an air of overconfidence and menace.

“What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all.”

"So what now?" the Corinthian asked. “You send me back into their dreams?”

You saw him draw his dreadful knife, pulling it from inside his jacket. “’Cause I won’t go willingly.”

Morpheus, on the other hand, appeared completely unperturbed. The faint, amused grin on his face underscored his strength and commanding presence as he walked forward. “A knife… against a Dream?”

“You don’t think Dreams can die? Let’s find out-”

“Enough.”

Fed up with the Corinthian's theatrics, Morpheus raised his right hand to put an end to the entire ordeal. Sand magically formed from his palm, extending toward the Nightmare in a trail of golden grains.

Contrary to your expectations, and against all you had hoped for, things didn't go as planned.

In one quick, fluid motion, the Corinthian pierced the Endless's hand with his blade, the sharp metal slicing through his skin. The sand completely dissipated, leaving only the monster's knife lodged in his master's palm. Morpheus grunted in pain and surprise, dropping to his knees.

You were terrified, your eyes burning at the sight of your lover on the verge of defeat. How could that even be possible? How could he be losing his power and strength again, all because his own creation was exploiting a mortal's power?

No, that was too much for you to endure. You couldn't let it happen a second time. Unable to witness the horrific spectacle any longer, you shouted.

“Morpheus!!”

You ran to the stage, passing through rows of humans who appeared to be asleep, their eyes shut as though under hypnosis. You ascended the platform with a mixture of dread and disbelief, immediately pressing one hand against Morpheus’ back while carefully wrapping the other around his wrist. He traced the line of his evident gash, now marked by the redness of his blood.

You didn't care about the outburst he would most likely direct at you later. Because, for the umpteenth time, your inner voice had guided you to the right course of action. Of all the times you could have left him on his own, that was not the day to do it.

You expected Morpheus to regain control and shake you off, ordering you to leave. You were quite surprised to see he neither said a single word, nor attempted to disentangle himself from your hold.

Instead, he raised his eyes back to the Corinthian, lips parted in shock. "How...?”

Although you couldn't see the Nightmare's eyes through his black lenses, you noticed the way he tilted his head to look at you. His grin was victorious, utterly vicious, and positively nauseating.

“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” he answered. “She’s taking your place at the center of the Dreaming.”

You shuddered. Was that the so-called grand plan he had mentioned the day before?

“She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers’ minds. And now they’re all dreaming the same dream.”

Your fingers instinctively tightened around Morpheus' hand, feeling him grow colder by the second, vulnerable and exposed.

“A dream that I inspired.”

“No,” Morpheus countered.

“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you, or your precious little human here can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

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

And then you felt it—that strange sensation of losing your balance, your head feeling floaty and light as the air around you grew eerie and darker. Your eyelids suddenly felt as heavy as boulders, dropping over your eyes until all you could see was black, with random shapes taking form in front of you.

“You need to wake up.”

Morpheus’ voice echoed next to you. You saw Rose appear and withdraw as soon as she noticed him, maintaining a protective stance over a little boy who you assumed was the lost brother she had been searching for. A creepy scene materialized around you, with strangers seemingly cutting and chopping flesh on the tables with their own blades and surgical instruments.

There was blood, skinned corpses, and body parts everywhere you looked.

“Don’t listen to him, Rose bud,” The Corinthian interjected, appearing right behind her just as Morpheus stood back on his feet. “You’re the one with power now, not him. This is your dream.”

“It’s his dream, for your world,” the Endless corrected.

“Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas.”

Right after the Corinthian's declaration, the boy was enveloped in a bright light and was instantly gone, leaving nothing but emptiness in his wake.

"Where's Jed...?" Rose asked, her voice filled with worry.

“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep. He’s right next to you.”

The Corinthian's words were becoming increasingly infuriating. With each sentence, you felt a growing urge to expel him forcefully from his own nightmare.

“This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now.”

“The Dreaming is yours. Is that what he told you?” Morpheus inquired.

“He told me you were gonna kill me,” Rose responded.

“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.”

"Rose, he's right," you declared. "It's more complex than you realize.”

“Y/N…? I….”

“Your world. Everything and everyone will die,” Morpheus elaborated.

“Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

You were boiling like a steamed pot, feeling the figurative smoke explode out of your ears. "Can you just shut up and leave her alone?!”

The Corinthian smiled, relishing what he evidently considered the pinnacle of his existence. He craved power, control, and freedom—a freedom that would cost your kind its very life and the King of Dreams his position and domain.

Thankfully, Morpheus promptly continued his explanation. “It’s happened before. I failed my duty, an entire universe was lost.”

You subconsciously reached for his sleeve, gripping it as if your life depended on it. It was vital, absolutely essential. You wanted to be there, you needed to be there. With him, with them, within Rose's dream. Alongside the King of Dreams.

Because it felt right, there was nowhere else you belonged.

“He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”

The impatience in the Corinthian's voice was escalating rapidly, and you heard the sound of his knife being extracted one more time.

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

Whenever Morpheus spoke, the Corinthian tried to sway Rose to his side. The poor girl was caught between two formidable forces, scared and confused, unable to decide what or whom to believe.

“I’m trying to keep you alive here.”

Morpheus. “I’m trying to keep your world alive.”

"Rose, if you feel like you can't trust him, then trust me," you pleaded.

“You have to choose one of us Rose-”

“Enough!”

Rose's voice echoed, spreading in all directions. A magical energy formed around her, converging toward her body as if pulled by a magnet. Morpheus's eyes immediately sought out the Corinthian, who now seemed suddenly at a loss for words or actions.

“If I am powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime, the walls go back up.”

She tentatively raised her right hand, and as soon as she did, the dream in front of her completely dissipated, revealing a gloomy, empty room coated in metal.

“Because I’m not dreaming anymore.”

She turned and repeated the gesture, scattering the remnants of the Corinthian's nightmare. Morpheus observed her with pride and satisfaction, feeling both relieved and pleased by the unforeseen outcome.

“Thanks to you two, I’m wide awake.”

A bright flash blinded you as you were catapulted back to the Waking World, where you found yourself still standing next to Morpheus. He was examining his palm, watching as the knife wound healed and his skin regained its smooth complexion.

When you looked at the Corinthian, you saw him trembling, breathing heavily, and reaching for his glasses, a sign of utter annihilation.

“If you think I’m going back to the Dreaming with you—”

You almost jumped back in shock. The instant you saw his eyes, you understood why he always kept them concealed behind those dark lenses. Rather than having human-like eyeballs with irises and pupils, his sockets were filled with teeth, looking like two smaller versions of his mouth.

“You’re not going back,” said Morpheus. “I brought you in this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

He was profoundly distraught, disappointed in himself for having created something so terribly wrong. Yet, despite all the evil the Corinthian had unleashed over the past century, you could still see the brilliance in him. As terrifying as he was, at least he served his intended purpose.

“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.”

The nightmare's confidence had shattered, replaced by pain evident in his fractured voice.

Morpheus remained silent, listening intently.

“And you don’t care about humanity. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

He was seething with anger, harboring the same grudge that Gault had expressed.

"You really don't know anything," you intervened. "There's so much you fail to see.”

"And what else is there?”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious,” Morpheus answered. “Without my rules it would consume me.”

A pause followed.

“Humanity would be consumed.”

You exhaled, feeling the weight of his emotion. Despite his eternal power, he was not immune to the risk of being erased from existence, as the Vortex had just demonstrated. How had he managed to endure for millions of years, relying solely on himself?

The Corinthian, however, was not going to be convinced.

“Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream.”

“You’re right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then.”

If the Corinthian had eyes, tears would have spilled from them, trickling down his cheeks. For as he listened to Morpheus's words, he understood that his time in both realms had come to a tragic conclusion.

“So I must uncreate you now.”

The Nightmare wept, appearing so innocent and tormented that it was hard to believe he had threatened you in the hotel corridor, killed all those people, and ripped their eyes off to feast on their humanity.

Even a Nightmare can dream, my Lord.”

Except that sometimes, dreams could become seriously twisted and tainted.

Morpheus tried again, letting his power flow from his outstretched fingers. The Corinthian began to burn, glowing a deep red, rotting and decaying like a vampire consumed by the sun. Before he could be destroyed, he summoned the strength to hurl one last venomous remark at his master.

“̘͌̅I a̔m̺̠̦ͩ ǫ̘̹ͥ̔͞͡n̳͎̪ͨ̇ͧ͠ḷ͔̊́͢y͊ s̫ͅỡ̶̟͍̻̞̦ͬ͛ͦr̩͙̀͜͝r͇ͤ̓y̢̿̾̏ͫ͜ I̴͚̥̘̖̓͊ͨ͒̚̕ w͖o̘̒͂ͤn̵̪̑̒͋’̗͓͐̒t bé͉ h̡̳͝e͇͈͛̎͌͐̋͜͢͠ŗ̩͚ͮͯẽ̷͂̅͜ t͚o̴͑̐̎̽̏ͨͨ̒̅̍ se̟͑e̳ R͂oş͖̺̾̿́̐̍͟e̹̙̤̙͎̋͒̂͆ͬ͝ W̤̤̬̕al̨͙̀̏k̆͜é̜̟̂̄͛r ḑ̢̜̦͚͕͎̜ͦo̵̶̶͈͐̋͢ t̴̯͕̱̳̃̌̇̃͜͞h̸ͥͩ��͛̿̉̐ s̤ͦ̉a͎̿̅̆͟ͅm̱̟̮̆e̴̪̖͓̎͗̐ t̵̸͚͔̬ͧ̾̓ͬ̕͝o̊_̭̈́_̠ y̭̆̎o̽û̸͕͕̩͔ͦ̆ͪͅ.͋̎ͦͫ̆̚”̮̓̽

And then he was reduced to a pile of ash, with a small skull falling from the air and landing on top. Morpheus stepped forward, knelt down and picked it up, gazing at it in the palm of his open hand before rising a moment later.

“Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little Dream.”

His fingers sinuously closed around the skull, and all you could do was watch the scene, immobilized and unable to find the right words to express. There was so much to analyze, too many things to register all at once.

“And you…”

You felt your gut squirm, bracing yourself for the second reproach of the day. But as he continued speaking, delivering an impassioned speech, you realized he was addressing the awakening crowd and not you. One by one, the people seated in the rows opened their eyes, fully returning to the harsh reality they needed to confront.

“…who call yourselves ‘Collectors’. Until now, you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right.”

Their expressions were filled with painful realization, the stark truth of what they had committed.

“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.”

You were getting shivers, running all over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“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 to their feet, abandoning the conference room like a troupe of zombies, walking along the scaffold to an unknown, but certainly dark and devastating future. You watched them leave as your heart pounded like an uncontrollable drum, absorbing that view as a lesson about humanity—one that wasn't really a novelty, but thankfully had the best possible conclusion.

It saddened you, once again, to see your kind so corrupted and easily manipulated. The Corinthian might have played a fundamental role in their formation, but he only drew out and exposed what was already thriving within them.

"I told you to wait for me," he said quietly. This time, you were definitely the focus of his attention.

"You did,” you confirmed.

"And yet, you have decided to follow me regardless of what I asked.”

“I did.”

You turned your head to the side and met his eyes. He looked somewhat stern, but not as furious as you thought he would be. In the end, his lips curled into a subtle smile—barely noticeable, but as usual, evident enough for you.

You mirrored his expression, offering him a larger, much brighter grin. "I know I shouldn’t be here," you said, taking his right hand in yours and gently touching his previously injured palm, now perfectly immaculate. "But there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now.”

"My love, your bravery is one of the things I adore about you, but it also makes me worry. Immensely so.”

"I know, but what kind of girlfriend would I be if I couldn't even stand by your side when you need me?”

Morpheus did, in fact, need you more than anything in existence. He tightened his grip on your hand, pulling you slightly closer. "You matter to me more than you can imagine," he murmured. "Your presence brings light to the darkest corners of my realm.”

"Then let me be your light, always. Wherever you go, whatever you face, I’ll be with you.”

To you, it was more than a promise. It was a reassurance that, no matter how things evolved from that moment onward, you wouldn't sit on the sidelines and watch him handle the most arduous matters alone.

It was ambitious, given your human nature and limited lifespan. But for now, you didn't want to think about outliving him.

He swallowed, feeling both touched and uptight by your unwavering support. With a gentle touch, he guided your hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on your knuckles. "As long as I can keep you safe.”

"I don't doubt that you can.”

You kissed his lips and gave his hand one final squeeze before letting go. His eyes betrayed the doubt and fear of failing you, of losing you like he had lost everyone else he ever cared for.

"You ought to leave this place," he stated.

You wished there were more reassurances you could offer him, but for now, you could only nod and follow him down the stage, out of the conference room. You perceived the lingering emotions of those who had departed, the hotel corridors now desolate, the rooms empty. You unpinned the stolen badge from your shirt, unceremoniously tossing it into the first trash bin you passed.

The sky outside was dark, and cars parked in front of the building were leaving one by one. A few remained, their owners inside, crying out their desperation for the dreams they had lost. One of the vehicles seemed to have what looked like fresh blood splashed over the windows, indicating that the murderer inside couldn't handle their newly formed guilt.

It was unnerving, as dark and sinister as a scene from a horror movie. But this was no movie; it was your reality.

You spotted Rose and Jed driving by, heading down the road for a safe return. And yet, there was no trace of Gilbert anywhere. Odd.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, and a quick look at the screen showed Andrew's name. His concise message stated that he was finishing up a few tasks and that your next meeting would be in three days. You appreciated the extra time off, as focusing on work was currently not an option.

Matthew landed gently beside Morpheus' feet. He gave you a polite nod before shifting his focus to Rose's car, which had become a distant speck.

“You want me to follow her?”

“No,” Morpheus replied. “When she is awake, she is not a threat. Tonight when she sleeps, I will find her. And we will end this.”

Your heart sank at that moment, for his words could only mean one dreadful thing: Rose had to be stopped, killed, and torn away from her friends and her newly reunited young brother. It was unjust and incredibly difficult to accept. She was still so young and kind, with so much to offer the world. But no matter how hard you tried to think of a way to save her, you realized that the Vortex within her had already grown exponentially, consuming parts of the Endless' realm and the dreams contained in it.

“Come with me,” he said, extending his hand toward you once again, inviting you to take it.

"Where?" you inquired, lifting an eyebrow as you accepted it.

“To the Dreaming.”

You didn't have time to comment as you noticed your surroundings changing. A sudden gust of cold air enveloped you both, and the hotel blurred away, swept aside like dust. The parking lot twisted and transformed, replaced by familiar bookshelves from the library. Your head spun, and your heart raced as you went through the sudden transition. Before you knew it, you found yourself transported to the world of dreams, leaving you partially disoriented.

It took a moment for you to fully acclimate.

Morpheus let go of your hand and stepped aside, allowing you a moment to fully grasp and absorb the situation.

"Wait. I'm not asleep, am I?”

“No.”

“So… I’m actually here? Physically?”

“You are.”

You could barely tell the difference between being awake and dreaming. Perhaps there was an added layer of awareness that intensified all five of your senses.

“Why did you take me here?”

"It is not safe for you to sleep in the same house as Rose Walker," he explained. "If you stay here, I can preserve your dreams. You are my guest.”

You smiled, noticing the details with renewed clarity. Everything seemed sharper and more mesmerizing than in your unconscious mind. It felt like returning to a known place, one you now considered a second home.

“In that case, thank you for having me.”

He brushed your waist with a delicate touch, seeking your closeness, and promptly placed a tender peck on your forehead. "This place is yours to explore. If you wish to rest, I will have a room crafted just for you.”

His thoughtfulness was awe-inspiring. "Thanks, but I don't think I could sleep right now."

You wondered if it was even possible to fall asleep in the realm of dreams. How did it truly function with your physical body already there?

"I have preparations to make. You can trust that Lucienne will attend to all your needs in my absence.”

You pressed your lips together. "Actually, I'd rather come with you.”

"Y/N, what I am about to do is something you should not witness."

"I know you have to kill Rose, and I'm not trying to stop you. Just... please, let me be there. I don't want her to feel completely cornered and alone.”

Morpheus considered it, lowering his gaze thoughtfully.

"I promised to stand by your side, and I intend to keep my word. I can see how much this pains you, so... let me come. For both of you."

“You will not change your mind.”

It wasn't a question, but a clear realization.

“Sorry. It’s not going to happen.”

He exhaled through his nose in resignation. "Very well, but stay close to me. Do not interfere.”

You wished for Rose to continue living, to care for her brother, and to write the novel she once dreamed of creating. You wanted her to stay with Lyta, providing companionship and support for the arriving progeny. You longed for her to fulfill every wish she ever had, but there was no hope left for any of that.

Sometimes, fate could be unbearably cruel.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to,” you reassured him.

He reached for a strand of your hair, letting it slip through his fingers in a loving caress. "I will return shortly, my love. And then we will end this, together. For now, my castle is at your disposal.”

Your hair settled back into place, but his touch left it feeling electric and vibrant. You watched him walk away, his coat—now reverted to its long, simpler form—billowing behind him.

You sighed, feeling a blend of contentment and desolation for what awaited Rose. You touched the bookshelf in front of you, savoring the scent of wood and leather, and the rough texture beneath your fingertips. Being in the Dreaming while conscious was hard to fathom—a unique experience you hadn't thought to explore and didn't know you had secretly hungered for. It made you crave more, to be absorbed by it, to dwell within it. Not as a Dreamer, no. Not in the way Lyta had envisioned.

More frankly, you wanted it to be an integral part of your existence.

Suddenly, a loud throat-clearing sound echoed from the opposite end of the row of books. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the familiar figure standing just a few feet away, seemingly gauging your reaction to his unexpected arrival. There was no mistaking him; only one person could sport those distinctive little glasses, wear such refined attire, and carry that peculiar cane in his left hand.

“Gilbert…?”

"Hello, Miss. Fancy seeing you here in the Dreaming.”

"You… how....?”

"Ah, my dear. I'm quite certain you already know.”

You were momentarily speechless, your mind slowly beginning to churn again. Simply being with him provided a rare tranquility, a mixture of the known and the enigmatic. He was correct; deep down, you had always sensed that the answer lay right before you—hidden and elusive, yet undeniably real.

"You're a Dream, aren't you? You are Fiddler's Green.”

"Yes. Please accept my apologies for not revealing myself sooner. I knew from that Dreamstone that you were... different, so to speak, but I couldn't be entirely sure of your role in all this.”

With a soft, kind smile, you shook your head. "There's nothing to apologize for. I completely understand.”

Gilbert advanced, his heavy footsteps echoing through the space.

"You know, I was absolutely delighted to learn about your... relationship with our Lord. It is quite refreshing to see him with someone who brings him joy.”

You couldn't help but broaden your smile at Gilbert’s words. "It's really more the other way around. He’s very special to me.”

Gilbert nodded, his eyes twinkling. "And you to him, it seems. He is not one to easily let others into his heart, you see.”

It was astounding that you, a simple mortal, had been chosen by Morpheus as his life companion, surpassing all expectations. Being with the King of Dreams felt as natural as if a treasured childhood fantasy had come to life.

It was unique, enchanting, and felt perfectly fitting.

"I assume you have heard about our friend, Rose Walker.”

You gave a solemn nod. "Yes, I know she is the Vortex. I was really hoping things would take a much brighter turn.”

"You and I both wished for that. I hadn’t even realised.”

You crossed your arms, as though subconsciously shielding yourself from the shivers brought on by the prospect of witnessing her death. But your choice was made, and there was no turning back.

"Is there truly nothing we can do?”

"I'm afraid not. When a mortal becomes an active threat, Lord Morpheus must do whatever is necessary to stop them.”

"It's not as if she asked for it.”

"I know. It's rather sad, isn't it?”

You gave his wrist a gentle, amicable squeeze. "Quite so.”

Gilbert's moustache curled upwards as he smiled. "Well then. I have been away from my place for far too long. I suppose it's time for me to resume my duties.”

"I hope you had a splendid time in the Waking World, Gilbert. I know that human beings are not always the best example, but...”

"Quite the contrary. Humans are extraordinary in their own ways, some more than others.”

You chuckled, recognizing that his wink was hinting at people like yourself. “Perhaps you’re right.”

"Now then. Do feel free to visit me the next time you enter the Dreaming.”

“I’d love to.”

He tipped his hat, bowed courteously, and ventured deep into the library, moving with purpose. His long, Victorian-style coat swirled around him, shifting from side to side as he walked away. You watched him vanish behind the shelves, his footsteps becoming increasingly faint.

You hadn't asked about the type of dream he embodied, but you sensed that you would find out soon enough either way.

Once again, alone in the comforting silence of the library, you began to wander aimlessly, uncertain of where your feet would lead you. For the first time, you had the chance to explore Morpheus' home without the fear of waking up. The experience was exhilarating, akin to visiting a long-desired destination for the first time. Although you had dreamt of that place many times, being physically present in the heart of the Endless' realm felt like an immense honor.

The library was even more immense than you had imagined. With countless aisles and dead ends, you found yourself lost within the first fifteen minutes of exploring. It felt as though some of the books were whispering your name—not in a strange, creepy way, but like a group of old friends warmly welcoming you.

When you finally walked past Lucienne and spotted her among the many sections, she seemed genuinely surprised to see you in person, removing her glasses in astonishment. You greeted her warmly with a hug, gave Matthew a gentle scratch on the back of his head, and asked about the state of the Dreaming following the recent disturbances. As Morpheus had predicted, the tremors had completely subsided, and no new chasms had appeared into the ground. The library still bore a few cracks in the wooden floor, but everything was swiftly returning to its original, pristine condition.

Although you were aware of the significant impact on the Dreaming, you asked Lucienne for a place where you could appreciate the scenery without encroaching on Morpheus' privacy. With a warm smile, she recommended a delightful terrace in the eastern wing, just above the library—a serene spot offering a stunning view of the landscape. From there, you could admire the rolling hills and the shimmering river, a place she cherished whenever she sought tranquility.

While the spectacle had probably altered in light of recent events, you still chose to witness it, leaving your bag behind (you had your doubts that your phone would function in another world, anyway). Following the librarian's directions, you navigated your way out of the labyrinth of books, ascending a long staircase and entering a room you had barely traversed before. The place was quiet, as beautiful as a royal palace from a fantasy story, appearing as shiny and dreamy as you remembered it.

You quickly located the terrace Lucienne had described, and as soon as you stepped onto it, you felt your breath hitch at the stunning magnificence. It was large and sturdy, displaying beautifully carved arches with intricate designs and gothic architecture. It was adorned with delicate, silver hanging vines that shimmered softly in the light, adding a touch of ethereal beauty. Black roses were a central feature, symbolizing mystery and elegance, interspersed with deep blue and dark purple flowers that provided a rich contrast. What made it even more enchanting was the set of lanterns emitting a golden glow, their lights gently flickering like stars.

It was no wonder that it happened to be Lucienne's favorite place in the entire castle. Simply standing in front of it made you feel like a princess.

But what stood out the most was how that corner resonated with Morpheus's essence. As you looked at it, you could vividly picture him; every color and design element seemed to reflect his aura.

You put your hands on the marble railing, its height giving you a sense of security and a perfect shield from the vastness beyond. The scenery ahead was truly breathtaking, despite the scattered dark, gloomy spots that occasionally emerged. Not even the Vortex, with its destructive force, had diminished the Dreaming’s splendor.

Partly relaxed, you breathed in the mixture of scents the air carried with it. You could detect a subtle, sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers, fresh moss and ferns, undertones of amber and cedar, as well as the acrid smell of charred wood and ash, reminiscent of a forest fire.

In some way, all of that made you feel an even deeper connection to the realm, allowing you to witness both its marvels and its frailties.

And you savored every moment of it.

You remained on that terrace, feeling as though an hour or more had slipped by, trying to gauge the passage of time in the Dreaming as a conscious visitor.

Though it was objectively impossible and absurd to spend your entire life in that world as Lyta intended, you could certainly understand the allure. The wish to reside in such a beautiful place with the man you loved was far from a foolish aspiration.

Engrossed in your solitary reverie, you failed to hear Morpheus' footsteps as he approached the terrace. His hands gently settled on your arms, their touch soft as they glided from your shoulders to your elbows. His lips brushed lightly against the tip of your ear before moving to your temple.

"Hi," you murmured, tilting your head to the side.

“Hello.”

His voice was a melody, smooth as liquid honey.

“It’s really beautiful here,” you commented.

"The view is even more sublime with you in it.”

You felt bashful, your cheeks warming at the compliment. “Not as sublime as you make it.”

With softened eyes, Morpheus guided you to face him entirely. "My love, there are countless wonders within the Dreaming. Each corner of this realm holds a unique beauty, a reflection of the myriad dreams that shape it. Yet, none of these compare to your presence.”

Just when you believed your heart couldn't race any faster because of him, he proved you wrong.

"Words alone cannot capture your beauty. You illuminate both your world and mine."

He took your hand, tenderly stroking your fingers with his thumb, kissed your forehead and rested his own against it.

"You weave a new layer of marvel into the fabric of dreams. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Your lower lip quivered, and the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes made you blink repeatedly. “Aw…”

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression of his deep affection for you. "I hope you know, my love, that you will always be the most beautiful dream I have ever known.”

His heartfelt and poetic expressions only made your emotions burst forth. "I... I don't know what to say.”

"You needn't say a thing."

"No, I do. Because I don't know if you realize just how much you mean to me.”

“You matter to me more than you can imagine.”

Your words echoed his statement, proving how strongly connected you were to his heart.

He gently touched your face with his index finger, catching a tear that was about to fall, and gazed at the crystal drop with deep contemplation. "I do, I can assure you.”

"I love you," you reiterated. "So much it makes my heart ache.”

"And I, more than words can express, love you. I have found something that transcends time and space in you, a spark that fills the voids and quiets the storms within me.”

"Keep saying these things, and I won't be able to find the will to leave.”

"Then perhaps I shall continue, for I find I have no desire for you to leave my side.”

You laughed, snuggling closer into his embrace, your face resting against his collarbone. Minutes drifted by in tranquil silence as you both listened to the sounds of the Dreaming, remaining intertwined in a knot you never wished to untangle.

As your relationship progressed, you found it increasingly difficult to stay away from him. Your life had blossomed into magnificence, and you wouldn't want to exchange it for anything. Still, despite the natural, profound attachment to your reality, you couldn't deny that a part of you always lingered in Morpheus' dimension. It was bound to happen, and you had every reason to be attached to it.

Regrettably, there was an urgent matter that could no longer be postponed. His hold on you weakened, and you could only accept the separation with a somber acceptance.

"It is time, my love.”

The thought sent a jolt through your heart. “Already…?”

"Rose Walker is currently asleep, causing disruptions in the dreams of others.”

"Then we need to get to her before it is too late.”

"I would still suggest that you remain here with Lucienne.”

"No. I said I would go with you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

"If that is truly what you wish, then follow me.”

You had no idea what to expect, knowing you were about to witness a murder. Given the nature of Morpheus' power, you were certain it wouldn't be conventional, but that didn’t make it any less painful. The Vortex had to be stopped; of that, there was no doubt. You just hoped for a way to separate the girl from the destructive energy she never chose to have.

In an instant, you were no longer inside Morpheus' castle but out in the midst of a storm, with the wind tearing at your hair and clothes. It was sudden and unpredictable, so fierce that it could have swept anyone away in the Waking World. Morpheus tightened his grip on your hand, giving you a reassuring nod to indicate that he had everything under control. In the distance, you could hear the familiar voices of Rose, Hal, and the others from the B&B, their cries getting swallowed by the Vortex's voracious energy one by one. Rose repeatedly called out for her brother as you and Morpheus pressed on.

Your pendant remained inert, and you appeared unaffected by the explosive force in front of you. Apparently, being awake had protected you from the peril the Vortex would have posed if you were asleep.

Snow blanketed the entire area in a soft white layer, yet the chill felt more psychological than physical. Rose knelt on the ground, consumed by an overwhelming wave of dread.

Letting go of your hand, Morpheus advanced towards the girl. “You’ve caused a great deal of damage,” he announced. “Nothing that I cannot repair, a least at this stage.”

Startled by the commanding tone of the King of Dreams, Rose sprang to her feet. “What happened to Jed? To my friends?”

“They’re asleep in their bed, but they’re not safe. No one is. Not until the Vortex is dead.”

Your jaw tightened, and the intense storm seemed to quiet down, unveiling a dry, desert-like landscape made of rocks. It looked so desolate, so dark and impoverished.

“Death is not always such a bad thing,” Morpheus continued. “You could stay here if you like. My raven was once a mortal.”

You furrowed your brows. Lyta's husband had turned into a ghost and secretly taken refuge in the Dreaming, unbeknownst to Morpheus and the realm's inhabitants. Since he fathered a child with his wife in her dreams, Morpheus was compelled to banish him, returning him to his rightful place. However, his words hinted that, under certain conditions, humans could remain there after death if Morpheus assigned them specific roles.

It was a completely new perspective for you, sparking a flurry of questions in your mind.

And then, a frantic voice called out as someone ran toward the three of you.

“Wait! Sir!”

Gilbert was sprinting with all his might, while Morpheus' face contorted in bewilderment.

“Gilbert? What are you doing here? “ Rose asked.

“This is Fiddler’s Green,” Morpheus corrected.

“You…? You’re a Dream?”

Gilbert confirmed with a slight head bow. “I am. I-I left my post here to experience life as a human being. A life which I humbly offer in exchange for yours.”

"Gilbert..." you murmured. "What are you doing...?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Morpheus dissuaded him. “For the Dreaming and the Waking World to live, the Vortex must die.”

“Then what’s the point of a Vortex?” Rose protested. “Why do we even exist?!”

Morpheus shook his head, unable to deliver a proper explanation. “Honestly…”

"I have a theory," Gilbert offered. “When a human is at the center of the Dreaming, is it not to remind us that we exist because humans dream, not the other way around?”

Ah, there it was—the familiar wisdom you had come to appreciate.

“The miracle of humanity itself should always be more vivid to us than any marvels of power.”

You could see Morpheus' eyes becoming redder and wetter, his lips forming a small, relieved smile. “I cannot find it in my heart to punish you for leaving, Fiddler’s Green. But it is time you took up your appointed position once more.”

“It would be my honor, sir. It was never my intention to abandon my role.”

“What was your role? Who were you?” Rose questioned with curiosity.

“Oh, my dear, Fiddler’s Green is not a “who”, it is a “where”. I was not a person, I was a place.”

A place...? That could explain why you smelled those pleasant fragrances of nature when you had tea together at night.

“And, after your… death, if you stay in the Dreaming, visit me. Walk in my meadows and my green glades. Rest beneath my trees.”

Rose's expression was a portrait of pure sweetness as she listened to his gentle invitation. Morpheus looked at Gilbert with a blend of respect and satisfaction, much like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

"Farewell, Rose Walker. It was a privilege being human with you.”

Rose blinked, her tears resonating with your own emotions.

When Gilbert looked your way, every fiber of your being wanted to rush over and hug him. Nevertheless, you maintained your composure, recognizing it wasn't the right time for such an impulsive outburst of affection.

"Y/N Y/LN. It was a great pleasure making your acquaintance.”

"Thank you, Fiddler's Green. I thoroughly enjoyed our time together."

You observed as Gilbert took a deep breath, spread his arms wide, and extended his fedora. A flock of colorful butterflies, pink petals, and green leaves emerged from his entire form, rising up to the sky and swirling around. Gradually, he vanished in the same manner as Gault and the Corinthian, far from dramatic and certainly more graceful, leaving his hat to gently fall to the ground.

What truly made your jaw drop was the spectacular metamorphosis of the bland, rocky area into a vibrant environment with trees, grass, and a splendid lake with waterfalls. Yet, there was no time to admire it, as Morpheus was already looking at Rose again.

"I do not wish to take your life. But we all have responsibilities and this is one of mine.”

The energy that had enveloped Rose in the Corinthian’s nightmare returned, ready to unleash even more. The sky began to darken, heavy clouds floating above, with lightning preparing to strike in response to it.

"I am sorry,” Morpheus conveyed.

“Just do it. Whatever it takes to save my brother and my friends. I’m ready.”

She was so brave, so mature and receptive. Any other human would have tried to run, to struggle, to resist Morpheus in a futile attempt to escape certain death.

On instinct, you touched Morpheus’ arm before he could act, and his eyes, full of sadness and tangible regret, questioningly shifted to you.

"To be sure, is this truly the only option we have?"

“You know it is.”

“So, you have no other choice.”

“No.”

It didn't hurt to try one last time, but you knew better than to expect any improvement. With a long, weary sigh, you gazed at Rose, who stood rigid like a soldier, bracing herself with a mix of fear and determination.

You moved forward cautiously, led by your heart, as Morpheus called out your name. His voice was filled with alarm and concern for the consequences of your choices, but your modest humanity offered no means to alter the course of events.

“I won’t cause any trouble, don’t worry.” Your voice carried both resolve and weariness. "Allow me this one moment. Please."

And so he did, no longer hindering you, for he understood that the compassion woven into your DNA was prevailing.

You stopped just a few inches away from Rose, offering a wistful smile. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I wish I could do more for you. But I have no power, no means to save you from the unfortunate circumstances that justify the end.”

"It's okay," she replied faintly. "I understand.”

You envisioned her taking care of Jed, studying, graduating from grad school, writing, and enriching the world with her wonderful stories. You saw yourself talking to her on the phone, exchanging emails, and chatting online, keeping each other updated about your respective lives.

A simple daydream that, this time, not even Morpheus could make come true.

Cradling her face with your warm hands, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, your lips resting there as you fought back a lump in your throat. Engaging with others in your dreams was one thing, but now, for the first time, you were experiencing it from the other perspective.

It was profoundly unacceptable, yet there was nothing you could do to rectify such an injustice.

Then, you hastily pivoted on your heels and returned to your spot, standing beside Morpheus with your hands clasped together. The Endless sensed your turmoil, the sorrow you felt for what he was about to do. The empathy. The anger.

He wished he could shield you from all that suffering, which you should never have endured.

"If you wish to leave, if you do not want to see this...”

His persistent concern for you was undeniably charming, but you held firm. “I’ll stay.”

He scrutinized you briefly but decided not to pursue it further. Resuming his serious demeanor, he lifted his right hand to absorb and destroy the Vortex as he had with the Corinthian’s essence. Rose closed her eyes, ready to surrender everything inside her.

You clutched the fabric of your shirt, careful not to tear it, keeping your eyes fixed on the scene. Tempted to look away, you chose instead to stay strong for Rose, Morpheus, and yourself. You watched as he absorbed what she had trapped in her body, the Vortex being drawn in by his will as her life slowly ebbed away.

You anticipated Rose might dissolve or collapse on the ground, but neither occurred because Morpheus was interrupted for the second time.

“My lord, stop!”

Lucienne arrived, stopping Morpheus in his tracks, and with her was a woman you had never seen before. She had long, dark, graying hair and wore what seemed to be a blue nightgown.

All that tension and the repeated disruptions were starting to give you a headache.

Rose was taken aback. "Unity?!”

"This is Unity Kincaid," Lucienne elucidated.

What…?

The woman, holding a tome between her hands, introduced herself. "I am Rose's great-grandmother. And according to this book, I was meant to be the Vortex of this age."

Unity Kincaid, the sole survivor of the Sleepy Sickness, was the only human who awakened after so many years, defying death and looking much younger than her actual age.

“But because you were imprisoned and locked out of the Dreaming, that fate was handed down to my descendants.”

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus remarked.

Unity regarded him with a hint of amusement. "You're not very bright, are you?”

Hey. Rude.

“Come here, Rose.”

Handing the book to Lucienne, Unity approached her great-granddaughter, who stepped closer, profoundly confused and visibly fatigued.

"I want you to reach down inside yourself and give me whatever it is that makes you the Vortex.”

“But h-how?”

“You’re dreaming, darling. Anything is possible.”

Having slumbered for what felt like an eternity, it was no surprise that Unity Kincaid exuded such confidence in the dream world. One couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like for her to return to the Waking World as an older woman when, the last time she had closed her eyes, she had been as young as Jed Walker.

Rose lowered her eyes, deep in thought about her next move. She extended her hand to her chest, passing effortlessly through her shirt, skin, and ribs. When she pulled it back, she held a dark red glass heart, absorbing all the surrounding power. The center glowed with a lighter hue, with the storm captured inside flickering and flashing.

"This?" Rose mused aloud.

Unity didn't falter, taking the crystal from the girl's hands. "Oh, thank you, Rose, love.”

Straightening her posture, the woman turned and locked her resolute stare on Morpheus. "I'm the Vortex now, Dream King, as I should have been long ago. So, leave my great-granddaughter alone.”

It was clear she harbored no genuine resentment towards him. She understood that his obligation to take Rose's life was driven by a higher purpose, safeguarding both realms from a devastating blow. However, her decision to become the Vortex to protect Rose highlighted the profound strength and sacrifice inherent in familial bonds.

Morpheus stood in stunned silence, mouth agape, watching her. The heart pulsed and trembled between her hands, rumbling and roaring, until the crystal began to crack. A burst of red light exploded as it shattered, enveloping everyone in a blinding flash and a powerful gust of air.

Before Unity could fall, Morpheus steadied her by holding her right arm. Rose, noticing the woman's frailty and dizziness, called out in concern.

"What happened...?" Unity asked, forcing her head up but struggling to keep it steady.

"You died," Morpheus replied with a surprising gentleness. "So that Rose might live.”

Panic consumed Rose, rendering her unable to fully absorb the tragic news. And understandably so.

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, don’t be. I’m not. I was meant to die a long time ago, Rose. But if I had, I would never have met my golden-eyed man.”

Something stirred in Morpheus. When he and Lucienne exchanged a knowing look, it became apparent that whatever it was, it didn't bode well at all.

“And we would never have had our beautiful baby girl, and you would not have been born.”

“Wait,” Morpheus stepped in. “The father of your child had golden eyes?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them,” she affirmed.

After a momentary silence, Morpheus stated, "I have."

A man with golden eyes. Why did that spark a sense of recollection in you? To the best of your knowledge, you had never encountered anyone with eyes like those. After all, such a color was not something any human could possess in the Waking World. It was unnatural, a phenomenon unachievable without contact lenses or special visual effects.

Except…

…That stylish, flamboyant individual you had mistaken for the company's sponsor, whose irises had seemed to flash gold, which you dismissed as a mere trick of the hall's lighting.

You still didn't know who they were since the original sponsor couldn't attend the appointment. Could they actually be the man Unity Kincaid had a child with during her century-long coma? How was this person connected to Morpheus and the Dreaming? What compelled them to approach you that day, speaking about your deepest desires and those cryptic things you could barely comprehend?

Your brain was trying to process all that information like a computer, but it was clearly encountering a fatal error.

"Goodbye, Rose, darling," Unity's farewell was heartbreakingly poignant.

As comforting as it was to know Rose would continue living, against all previous odds, seeing her succumb to her tears and embrace Unity was something you could hardly bear without letting your own sadness overcome you.

“Mr. Holdaway will see to it that you and Jed have everything you need.”

She gently stroked and patted Rose’s back, and the girl had to gather all her willpower to let go of her great-grandmother.

"You and your brother are children of the Endless," Morpheus declared with incredible calmness, almost contentment. "You have suffered enough. You may leave this place.”

And just when you beieved you couldn't be more perplexed, your mind went blank at the mention of "children of the Endless" as you tried to piece together its significance.

Unity Kincaid met a man with golden eyes in her dreams, which eventually resulted in the birth of Rose and Jed. You sensed that the individual you encountered before the Fashion Show had an aura reminiscent of Morpheus and Teleute, leading you to deduce that they must be another one of Morpheus's siblings. Or at the very least, that seemed to be the most logical conclusion.

Which, in theory, would make Morpheus Rose's great-great-uncle. Truly, a headache for you.

Oh, Morpheus had quite a bit of explaining to do now.

“Goodbye, Rose.”

Shaken and traumatized, the girl instantly disappeared, reuniting with her brother in the Waking World. Meanwhile, Unity Kincaid stood up on her own, taking a deep breath and gazing around in wonder. At last, she was finally at peace.

Who could have imagined that your trip to Cape Kennedy would have unleashed a cascade of extraordinary events?

It was still uncertain whether Unity Kincaid would remain in the Dreaming. Lucienne had brought her back to the castle, where she could stay as long as necessary until a suitable role was found for her, either in Morpheus’ realm or somewhere different.

You and the Endless had stayed, strolling through Fiddler's Green grasses, until you reached the refreshing lake at the path's end, made of the clearest water you had ever seen in your entire life. The sound of its waterfalls left you enchanted, the atmosphere was as pure as mountain air, and if anything, that paradise managed to soothe your nerves, strung as tightly as violin strings.

Still, the King of Dreams noticed your distraction as your mind wandered, waiting for you to speak, only to see you getting lost in your confusion.

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Mh?”

"You look troubled.”

Could you even bring it up, considering how much he loathed the idea of you being so close to the Corinthian in London, and then again in Cape Kennedy? Could you inquire about his sibling without him dissuading you from seeking further information?

Despite your efforts to keep it secret, you had already recognized that you were incapable of lying, especially to him.

"There's something I need to know.”

“I can see that. Go on.”

“Who’s the man with golden eyes?”

Just as you had predicted, Morpheus faltered and averted his gaze. "This is not something we should discuss."

"I'm asking for a reason," you insisted. "Because I believe I’ve seen those eyes myself.”

And with that, his composure, his calmness, and the relief he had just acquired from having saved his realm, completely dissipated. “How…?”

"Well... I don't know why I'm drawing these entities like a magnet, but the fact is, someone approached me recently. I was supposed to meet the company's sponsor, and I thought that was it. But it turns out the man in question couldn't make it, and I never really knew who I ended up talking to.”

The irritation, the fury that ignited in his eyes.

“Describe them.”

You focused on the memory, replaying it as vividly as you could. "Tall, bleached blonde hair, elegant. White suit, manicured hands, red lips… and naturally, eyes that flashed gold.”

And if you needed any confirmation, the way he stiffened left no doubt in you.

"Morpheus, please tell me.”

There was no reason to conceal the truth from you any longer, so he finally unveiled it. “You have met Desire, another of my siblings."

"I'm surprised that you wanted to meet. Do you have any specific questions you'd like to ask me?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You could say that I'm interested in your... desires.”

"Is that what you desire? Greater wealth and recognition?”

Now you understood why they felt so peculiar and out of the ordinary. Why they made you feel so puzzled and intruded upon. Desire intended to allure you, to pull you in.

As for the reason, you were still in the dark.

"They came to you because of their animosity against me," he concluded. "To punish me.”

"Why would they want to do that? Aren't you family?”

"Their hatred for me is multifaceted, combining elements of sibling rivalry, jealousy, and grievances. They want to assert influence and demonstrate control over aspects that traditionally fall under my domain, like the subconscious desires of mortals.”

Was it truly just envy that Desire harbored for him? Was it all about dominance and the classic 'who has more power' game?

"There's more to it, though, isn't there?”

“Throughout our long existence, we have interacted in ways that have bred many grudges. Desire has a tendency to interfere, sowing chaos into my affairs.”

"What did they do?”

His nervous pout returned. "Desire's nature is manipulative; they have created the circumstances that led to the tragic outcomes of many things I was involved in.”

How could any family member ever want to harm him?

"So... Unity Kincaid...?”

"Desire knew the child would become the Vortex and that I would be compelled to kill it."

“But why?”

Morpheus remained quiet, observing the growing anxiety on your face. You could perceive there was something much more sinister, something you wouldn't really want to hear, but that you were desperate to know for your own sanity.

"For an Endless, the consequences of killing a member of their family are grave and significant. We are bound by cosmic laws and responsibilities, and our actions can affect the fabric of reality.”

You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

"If an Endless spills family blood, they are subject to the wrath of the Furies.”

“The Furies?”

“You already know them as 'The Kindly Ones.'”

Those three again. The ladies who warned you about Morpheus and the secrets he was withholding. The ones who toyed with your mind and hinted at the existence of Paregoros without ever revealing her identity to you.

"They are ancient entities that punish familial murder. Their vengeance is relentless.”

He was carefully choosing his words, but his effort to protect you from the brutal revelation couldn't obscure the actual meaning.

"So you're saying they could destroy you. They could take your life away.”

“The killing of a family member is a severe breach of the natural order.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other covering your mouth as you walked aimlessly.

“Y/N.”

Had Morpheus killed Rose to permanently end the Vortex, his realm would have faced yet another onslaught, with the Furies exacting their vengeance upon him. All because of a single deed prompted by his sibling, a deed that could have resulted in Morpheus' demise.

"My love—”

"Let me get this straight," you interrupted him. "Desire sees your rivalry as an excuse to provoke you into breaking the laws and ultimately causing your own downfall?”

Your voice was rising, your blood boiling and coursing through your veins like hot water steaming in a pot.

"Do they really understand the consequences that would bring?”

“They do.”

You snapped, turning to face him again, your eyes red and darkened with seething anger. "Why would they, or anyone in this fucking universe, ever wish such a horrifying fate upon you??!!”

For just a fleeting moment, he was visibly stunned by your expressed frustration. But as he absorbed the extent of your support and the defense you were mounting just for him, Morpheus' shoulders slumped, and his lips formed a subtle smile.

"Now what? Are you going to tell me that Desire was responsible for Roderick Burgess capturing you as well?”

He turned grave, your ironic question striking a chord, his expression shadowed with grief. "It is possible. Desire's machinations are intricate and far-reaching. They revel in chaos and thrive on the misery of others, especially mine. Their interference in my capture would not be beyond them.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart ached as you envisioned him in that glass prison, stripped of everything he was. Could the torment he endured for so long really be the result of his sibling's cruelty, using a gullible mortal for their own satisfaction?

“Oh, that's just... that makes me so... uuughhh!!"

Your growl echoed throughout Fiddler's Green, and your breath quickened as you paced back and forth, vehement, and intensely incensed.

Morpheus watched you with appreciation and melancholy in his stare. "Your anger is justified, but it must not consume you.”

"How can it not?!" you retorted, stopping in your tracks, fists clenched at your sides. "How can I not be furious knowing what you’ve been through, all because of Desire's games? I was there Morpheus. I saw what those humans did to you.”

He was ethereal and beautiful, yet hollow and desolate.

“I swear, from the moment I met Desire, I felt so awful in their company. Now I know why.”

Morpheus stepped closer, his presence calming yet still carrying the weight of the cosmos. "Desire seeks to disrupt, to provoke such reactions. We must be smarter.”

You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself. “Smarter? Morpheus, I could have lost you today!”

The raw emotion in your voice brought a flicker of pain to his eyes. "I am deeply sorry for the anguish this has caused you.”

"It's not just about being sorry. It's about preventing it from happening again. If they're truly behind your capture, if they created a new Vortex just to have you face the Kindly Ones, who, by the way, are not really that kind to my taste, how can we be certain they won't try something else?”

He placed his hands on your cheeks, grounding you with the cool contact. "Do not let Desire's activities influence you. Rest assured, I will have a word with them.”

"Would that even suffice, considering what they've done to you?”

"Speaking with them may not change their behavior, but it will serve as a reminder of the boundaries they should not cross.”

How could a simple reminder be even remotely suitable after all they had put him through? You had been so close to seeing the love of your life eradicated from his own existence without even knowing it.

That ordeal couldn’t be stopped, could it? You were destined to witness Morpheus continually battling for the survival of his realm, facing one challenge after another, all because the universe seemed determined to punish him no matter what he did.

Well then. If nobody could stand up for the King of Dreams, if not even his own family was willing to put his well-being first, then you would.

And it was paradoxical, seeing how Unity had sacrificed her own life for Rose's sake, while her former lover had merely exploited them for his vengeance. If you had considered the Corinthian a despicable monster, if you had thought that Mister Burgess was the worst, most rotten example of humanity, Desire was by far a step ahead of them.

Pouting like an offended child, you crossed your arms over your chest. "In that case, I will protect you.”

Morpheus looked at you in astonishment, his expression melting with tenderness. He extended his hands, gently uncrossing your arms and clasping your fingers in his.

"Your spirit is admirable, but you must think of yourself. I would not see you harmed in an attempt to keep me safe.”

"I'm not asking for permission, Morpheus.”

Another small, satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You remind me of the mortals who have stood against the odds, driven by love and conviction.”

"And you’re worth every bit of that fight."

Pride illuminated Morpheus's expression. “Very well. But promise me you will be cautious.”

“I will.”

And with that, you succumbed to the urge to hold him in your arms, wrapping your hands around his neck and planting a loud, strong, affectionate kiss on his cheek.

"Mmhh. I just want you to be happy,” you murmured, humming affectionately against his neck.

The vast expanse of the Dreaming seemed to hold its breath. The touch of your lips against his skin was both a promise and a plea, a gesture of love that spoke louder than words ever could. To him, it wasn't new, but every intimate touch and loving declaration from you ignited a fire in his depths that he couldn’t quite describe.

"If I am to measure my existence by moments of true contentment, then I find the greatest ones with you.”

You tightened your grip around his shoulders. "Really?”

"I can guarantee it.”

You pulled away from him just enough to bring your face close to his. "So, are you happy with me?”

“Are you?”

You exhaled, giggling with the delight of a schoolgirl. "I'm the happiest woman alive. In this world, in my world, and in every timeline that exists.”

"Then yes, my love. Your courage, your unwavering support—they are the essence of my happiness.”

"Ah, now you've done it, I'm afraid.”

“Done what?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"You just made me want to hold you even more, and never let you go.”

His genuine, delighted smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. The motion was fluid and filled with a surprising, playful energy, revealing a side of him that only you could witness.

You laughed, a sound that rang through the atmosphere like the purest melody. You tightened your embrace around his neck as he held you securely, his eyes twinkling and casting a glow over the entire Dreaming.

He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft and filled with all the nuances of his love for you. As the kiss deepened, you felt the strength and warmth of his hold, a silent promise that he would always keep you close, even across the barrier separating your two dimensions.

One that he could always cross to reach you.

Author's note: There is more to come. While the Vortex segment has officially ended, there are things that I want to cover and we haven't seen in the show at all. Also, the very last part of the story will begin soon, and it's going to be particularly important and also very intense. You will need tissues.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 21 ->

#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless #the sandman morpheus

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lasalebete · 2 months ago

Note

I DIDNT . REALISE YOU HAVE OCS. GIVE

[crawls out of a hole wiht dirt caked up under my nails, covered in blood and coughing up violently] I'm a mentally ill queer on tumblr, of course I have OCs!

i also want to preface this by saying im writing it while watching a show and listening to a song on repeat. dunno how coherent this'll be

Okay, so! There are, like. An endless number of little guys is living in my brain. So. The one I'll present here is the 'verse I've been doodling obsessively for two days and which got beamed into my head during a six hours nap literally yesterday.

So, literally the base for this is that They Have Wings, but, um. Make it complicated.

The first recorded mutations have no really known date, but they've been around for long enough that we had centuries worth of data surrounding them, and so we can observe their evolution. The most common mutation is simply winged individuals, following the schemas of birds found in nature. Therefore, there are multiple categories of individuals based on which species they're the closest to, but they're also categorized by the type of mutations they're affected by, eg if they only have the usual wings, the size and function of said wings, the presence or absence of a tail, having more than one pair of wings, etc.

Mutations are visible since birth, except for some rare ones that develop later in life, although there has been a slight increase of those in the latest years.

Not all winged individuals are capable of flight. It greatly depends on the size, anatomy and placement of the wings. Some mutations also bring out disabilities, like when wings replace the individual's arms, or when a small pair of wings replace the ears and render the individual deaf (regarding this, a modified sign language is available to those people where then can use their wings for punctuation, intonation and such, for which people without this additional feature have to use their face only. This addition makes it easier for people who struggle with facial expressions to communicate).

Regarding wings' sizes, there are MANY existing possibilities. Some individuals have proportioned wings that allow them to fly just fine, those sort of common. Some have small wings that do not allow them to fly, and they are still a major part of the population. Some are subject to gigantoalastia, a pathology that causes a GREAT disproportion, making the wings gigantic. These individuals are capable of flight, which requires a lot of effort, but need to do a lot of stretching and back muscular reinforcement because it causes lots of back pain.

The fashion industry is hell, btw. Like if you have gigantoalastia or if wings replaced your arms, your clothing options are quite limited.

Non-winged humans still exist! Around 12-13% of world population is not affected by any kind of mutation. But! That number is actually decreasing, slowly. We might be looking at an all-winged population in a few days or centuries. Mutations are also starting to make individuals more and more birdlike, with characteristics like tails or bird feet. Some beaked individuals have also started to make their appearance, with characteristics developing after birth. Scientists are wondering what this means for the future of our species, and also begs the question of our ancestors!

Both these questions greatly distress people btw. Religious groups primarily. They're divided in different factions, some think at the beginning we were all non-winged humans and that we're evolving towards something holy, some think that at the beginning we were something Other and we lost our whatever-privileges along the way and are only able to reclaim them now. Ofc then there's also exclusion, thinking that non-winged individuals should all be killed, that certain mutations should be wiped out, yk. All that. Which is not even especially religious but can also just be bigotry/eugenics. YK.

OH YEAH ALSO MALFORMATIONS!!!! Disability has of course been Thought About. Some people are born with malformed wings and so fundamentally unable to fly. Other mobility aids are more or less equal to those we have today but flight ones are harder to come by and also hard to design.

Also also sometimes people like to customize their wings with piercings and such :3 dyes are also a thing but temporary because of. Well. Shedding.

(theres supposed to be like. two main guys but actually i thought about the whole entire world before even finding their names. so all you get to know is that they're gay and in a toxic relationship . because thats my brand)

#mine #rambling!!#a gets an ask???#additional information: ive got something drawn for most of those things :3 #idk this is still very rough. as i said. this got beamed into my brain during a six hours nap yesterday.

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irayoeywa · 1 year ago

Text

the game name ✧

part seven

neteyam sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

warnings/notes - fluff, utumauti is the na'vi name for banana fruit, characters speaking na'vi unless stated otherwise, lowercase intended, gif is not mine, divider creds to shifterium.

< part six part eight >

series masterlist main masterlist

it happened again.

this doesn't happen twice, right?

you and neteyam were hanging out in the forest, like usual. you were sitting on the mossy forest floor, with a visor in your hand. neteyam had mentioned that his ikran riding visor had been damaged so you offered to fix it for him.

neteyam on the other hand was laying on his back a foot away from you. he had his eyes closed as you quietly worked on the visor. the two of you sat in silence, just enjoying one another's presence.

the sound of the forest calming to you, that's why you did most of your weaving here. your eyes had peeled away from the visor to look at neteyam who was laying there peacefully, his chest moving up and down with each breath he took in and let out. you weren't sure if he was sleeping or not.

you were about to put your attention back on the accessory when something came into your view. it was an atokirina. and it was floating towards you. you stayed still, waiting for it to and just like you did the first time.

when it finally did, you sat in shock. it was hovering over the visor in your hands. you felt the gentle touch of the seed for a brief moment before it floated away. your eyes watched it leave your eyesight. you didn't realize that you had zoned out until you felt a touch on your knee that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

you turned to see neteyam with his hand resting on your knee as he looked at you, "you okay? you look a little shaken up."

your parted lips sucked in a small breath before you shook your head, "yeah no, uh- i am fine."

the words seemed to have no effect on the boy in front of you as he continued to look concerned. you decided to lighten up the situation so you pushed his shoulder lightly, "but you look well rested, had a good nap?"

neteyam's face morphed into a smile, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "i really didn't expect to actually fall asleep."

"i told you, it’s soothing out here." you smiled. you brought your eyes back down to the visor in your hands, it was fixed but you could tell that it would just break again if you gave it to him now.

"hey, do you mind if i give this back tomorrow? i have something that would make it more secure." you said, looking up neteyam.

"yeah, that's fine. i really appreciate you fixing it for me, you don't have to." he spoke.

"what are friends for?"

that’s what brought you here, walking through high camp. you needed immediate answers so you quickly made your way to the tsahìk's tent. you needed answers. the first time when the atokirina landed on your arrow, you came up with an endless amount of reasons for what it meant. after many days of thinking about it, you finally came up with the conclusion that eywa saw something special about your friendship with neteyam.

but what did this mean? instead of an infinite number possibilities running through your mind, it was blank. you were sure netayam didn't see it as he woke up as it was floating away.

you needed some guidance and who better to speak to than the omatikaya's tsahìk. when you finally made it to her tent there was someone leaving. you waited for them to walk away before you took a deep breath and slowly opened the tent flap.

mo'at was there with her back to you, she was putting away her things. you assumed that the person who just left was injured and tended to their wounds.

when she finally turned around you greeted her, "oel ngati kameie mo'at."

she returned the custom and gestured for you to sit down. you took a seat and looked at her.

"uh.. i believe the great mother has sent me a sign but i am not sure how to interpret it." you said, awkwardly looking around the tent. when you heard nothing in response, you brought your eyes back to her. she made a gesture for you to continue.

"oh uhm i was out in the forest with a friend and i was holding something of theirs and an atokirina came and rested on what i was holding.. but this isn't the first time this has happened. it happened about a month ago but i just assumed the great mother was telling me something about our friendship but now i am not sure."

this is the first time you had actually voiced out the occurrence to anyone. you didn't tell any of your family members and you and neteyam definitely didn't speak about it.

mo'at sat for a moment before she started to speak, "the great mother sees the bond you have with this person but you may not.."

you sat in confusion, what does that mean?

"i may not?" you repeated, but as a question.

"you may not realize the importance of this relationship which is why you received another sign. whether it is platonic or romantic is for you to decide my child." she answered.

once you were done talking to the tsahík, you thanked her for her knowledge and guidance before leaving and heading to your family's marui. once you got there, it was empty, indicating that you were alone. you felt relieved because you needed to process this information alone.

you took a seat as the tsahík’s words continued to replay in your mind as your brain tried to make sense of them.

‘the great mother sees the bond you have with this person but you may not..’

you felt a strange sense of comfort when you were with neteyam. you were only friends for a couple months but you always felt secure and comfortable with him. your friendship felt safe. so you figured that eywa was confirming your thoughts.

but the second sign was different. it even felt different. the fact that it happened while neteyam was sleeping made it clear to you that the great mother only wanted you to see it. but what did she want you to see exactly?

'you may not realize the importance of this relationship which is why you received another sign. whether it is platonic or romantic is for you to decide my child.'

now what does that mean? was that her way of saying you take him for granted? you truly appreciated neteyam, so how do you not realize the importance of your friendship with him.

after a couple minutes of pondering, a figure entered the space which caused you to look up. ri'an walked in, bow in hand.

"what are you looking for?" you asked, watching him walk around the marui seemingly looking for something.

"my riding visor. i left it right over here yesterday." he huffed, pointing to a spot that was now empty. his words made you look to the right of you, neteyam's visor sitting right beside you. it brought your thoughts back to him and what mo'at said.

maybe ri'an could provide some insight of his own.

"can i ask you a question?" you asked the boy who was still looking around, moving things around to find his visor. "yeah." he responded without stopping his investigation.

you took a deep breath, "do you think i take neteyam for granted?"

ri'an paused, the basket in his hand being calmly being put back on the table. he knew that visor wouldn't be hiding under the basket but he just had to be sure. he turned to you and it was quiet for a moment before he uttered one simple word,

"yes."

OH?

it took you a couple long seconds to actually respond and when you did all you could say was, "i'm sorry, what?"

"y/n you didn't tell him your name for months.. and tuseÿa told me that you avoid him when you're around other people. and before you say you don’t want any unnecessary attention, if neteyam was really your friend, a few extra eyes wouldn’t matter, right?”

ri'an was right. you were so stuck on the fact that being friends with neteyam would bring unwanted attention that you're kind of pushing him away. thinking about it now, you were surprised that neteyam didn't just leave you alone altogether. especially after you didn't tell him your name right off the bat.

when you didn't respond ri'an added on, "look, i don't think you mean to take him for granted but you do."

after another moment of silence, you let out a deep sigh, "i see that now."

"finally!" ri'an cheered and you glanced at him. he was smiling, holding the now found visor in his hand. you recognized it because you made it for him. a lot of the things in your family's marui were made by you. they were always grateful for the things that you provided.

"but why'd you ask me that? did somebody tell you that you take him for granted?" ri'an asked now sitting next to you.

"yeah, eywa." you responded nonchalantly.

ri'an looked confused before his eyes widened, "do you mean-"

"yes. yes i do." you interrupted him since you already knew what he was about to ask.

you spent the next couple minutes explaining to ri'an what happened and your talk with mo'at. out of all your siblings, ri'an was the one you were the closest to. even though he's an extrovert and you're an introvert, he matched your curious nature.

maybe it was a good thing that ri'an walked in when he did, he opened your eyes a little bit more.

the next day, you were attempting to calm your nerves as you walked through high camp. your hands were clammy from the nervousness you were feeling. and in your anxious hands was neteyam's visor, his fixed visor thanks to you.

after your talk with mo'at and ri'an, you realized you should start making an effort in your friendship with neteyam so you decided that you would go to his family's marui to give him the visor. even though you choose to do this, that didn't make you feel any less anxious.

when you finally made it to the olo'eyktan's family marui, you peered inside before making your presence known. the only people inside were his parents. the only two people you were hoping weren't there.

they were talking and laughing with one another. you would've smiled if you weren't scared shitless at the moment. after letting out a breath, you walked in.

jake and neytiri turned their heads to the figure that walked in. they both recognized you right away. you were the girl that is supposedly friends with their oldest son.

you brought your hand to your forehead before bringing it down, "oel ngati kameie jakesulli and neytiri." you greeted them properly. the last thing you wanted them to think is that you aren't well-mannered. to your relief, they greeted you back.

"what brings you here y/n? are you looking for neteyam?" jake asked you. neytiri just stared at you waiting to see what it was that you came for.

you glanced back down at the visor in your hands and nodded, "uh yeah, i fixed his visor and i was just coming to return it to him."

neytiri's eyes fixated on the visor in your hands but said nothing. jake nodded, "he's out right now but you can leave it here for him if you'd like."

"sure, can you just let him know that i brought it?" you asked, placing it on a small stool near the entrance.

"we will." neytiri finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours.

now even though neteyam's father is olo'eytkan, neytiri scared you the most. she was one of the most skilled archers in the clan and she always looked like she was judging everyone silently with her eyes.

"thank you." you smiled awkwardly before bidding your goodbyes and leaving as fast as possible. once you were out of their eyesight, you let out a sigh of relief. you may have been a little awkward but you were respectful and you made it out alive and that's all that matters.

neteyam finally made it back to his family's marui. recently, he had asked kiri for her help on something. so they went into the forest right after breakfast to finish up what she was helping him with.

it was now afternoon time when he and kiri got back and neteyam was hungry. when he got back home, he knew his parents wouldn't be cooking any meals until later in the day so he decided that he would settle for a couple fruits for now. when he went to pick up the basket of freshly picked fruits near the entrance, he saw his visor sitting on a small wooden stool. he paused and picked up the accessory instead.

"y/n brought that here for you." neytiri spoke. she saw her son eyeing the visor.

neteyam looked up at his mom in surprise, "she came here?"

neytiri nodded and neteyam looked back down at the visor. a smile spread across his face. he knew you were shy around most people and it was clear you didn't like much attention. the way you basically ran out that day when his family showed up. he just thought you needed more time opening up. and he was more than patient. so the fact that you actually came by to give him his visor meant a lot to him.

"she seems nice." neytiri said, grabbing her son's attention once more.

"she is." neteyam confirmed. he then glanced over at kiri who was obviously shocked at her mom's statement but when she met neteyam's eyes, she smiled.

"go." she then mouthed. neteyam nodded before grabbing a few things he needed before setting off towards his ikran.

when neteyam arrived at his destination, he unloaded the basket of fruits off his ikran and started walking towards the lake. the lake he goes to during his free time and more importantly, the lake where he met you.

finally reaching the lake, he was not surprised at the sight. you were there, feet submerged in the water while your fingers worked on something new.

"hey." neteyam spoke, causing you to look up from what you were doing. you smiled before looking at the basket of fruits in his hand.

"what's that for?" you asked.

"i wanted to hang out with you but i'm also very hungry so i thought we could eat together." he answered, placing the basket down next to you before taking a seat down as well.

"and how did you know i would be here?"

"when are you not here?"

"fair enough." you chuckled before setting your new half made anklet to the side. you grabbed a spartan fruit while neteyam picked up an utumauti. the two of you talked as you ate the fruits he brought.

"oh and thanks for fixing my visor, i really appreciate it." he said.

"you're welcome.. and to be completely honest, i was so scared going to your marui earlier."

"why?"

you looked at him, "your mom is terrifying. i feel like if i make one wrong move she'll shoot an arrow through my chest."

neteyam laughed at that. he knew his mom was intimidating but she's always been soft and endearing towards him and his siblings. it was always his father that berated them whenever they got in trouble. in some circumstances, neytiri was the one that saved them from jake's punishments.

"well, she said she likes you." neteyam smiled.

your eyes widened, "really?"

neteyam nodded. you put your head down to hide the smile that was peeking through. after being scared that his parents might not like you, it felt relieving to hear that you left a good impression on his mom. hopefully the olo'eyktan felt the same way.

since your head was down you failed to notice neteyam seemingly giving himself a quiet pep talk. he closed his eyes and did a silent prayer before grabbing something and turning to you.

"so i've been meaning to give you something." neteyam spoke.

you lifted you head to see him moving the basket of fruit to the side so there was an open space between the two of you now. he then scooted over so that space was now filled with his body.

you sat in silence, patiently waiting for whatever it is he wanted to give you. his hand was currently in a fist, he looked down at his hand before opening it, revealing a necklace. you followed his line of eyesight, seeing the accessory.

you smiled, gently taking the necklace from his larger hand, "did you make this?"

he nodded, "uh, yeah. but kiri helped so i can't take all the credit. and i know it's not as good as the stuff you make but-"

"no no no. this is amazing. thank you." you smiled. you brought the necklace closer to your face to get a better look. it was woven nicely from a white material. you then noticed a couple of colorful pieces connected to the rim of the necklace.

neteyam seemed to already know what your next question was so he decided to answer before you had a chance to ask, "so i also added some beads.. the ones from my hair."

your eyes immediately left the necklace and went to him. he looked nervous to say the least, which makes sense.

in omatikayan culture, acts such as giving gifts, giving something significant to someone else, and giving your own beads to someone are all signs of courting.

but neteyam surely isn't trying to court you.

that's not what's happening right now, right?

this series was originally supposed to be 7 parts so this was going to be the last one but i hate odd numbers so i expanded it to 8.

taglist - @fanboyluvr @liluvtojineteyam @arminsgfloll @squidalapobre @jjkclub @angelsamor @netedoongie @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri @riatesullironalite @camilo-uwu @audigay @jkeluv @marsbars09

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self-spaghettification · 8 months ago

Text

Ok, might as well throw my two cents on this poem (what hasn’t been said already)

Gnash your teeth, O Dragon Fierce!/Night's not far away/In the sky that watchful eye/Does weep and stare and pierce

Night being “not far away” is in of itself extremely foreboding and we’ve got a lot of other concerning uses of night, like “stars all swallowed up” by the corrupted sun forge in After Darkness, in the Bookery how the banthers only came out at night, 6x03 being called Moonless Night, etc.

“While one may say it ends with a sunrise, another will insist it ends at nightfall. ” (swallowed sun) (falling stars) / Karim's "the rising sun is now a falling star” from here

This stanza to me read as about Sol Regem.

We also have the “watchful eye” in the sky which reminds me of how Sol’s eyes are potentially being healed?

Tho- I also like the possibility that the eye is the weeping moon and it connects strongly with the poster that we’ve just received (ON THE SAME DAY.) and The hopeless dragon could also be Luna, and it reflects her power being siphoned and her death.

Currently thinking about how the poem could refer to both the past and present simultaneously, especially if it’s from the perspective from Aaravos who loves writing multiple layers into what he says (at least, looking at the reflections)

Sol Regem&Janai vs Luna&Aditi.

Anyway.

There’s a lot of grief and hopeless tone throughout the entire poem and it is not looking good at this point in the season considering 6x03 poem at least started out hopeful then veered towards doomed, 6x07 poem started out doomed. Love that for this season. Love that

BUT it does veer towards hopeful territory right at the end. Similar to a line from one of Aaravos’s reflections: “The long, dark night had finally passed—for the sun must always rise, mustn’t it?.”

Eight in a line, O Chosen Mine!/Ready for a war/Endlessly burning—/Hopelessly yearning—!/That love will triumph once more!

I saw speculation that 8 could be the number of key characters could be chess or the number of sources who knows, it could definitely makes a strong point for the pawn motif/aaravos pov, but who knows. I’m not gonna worry about that .

Endlessly burning is something I associate strongly with Aaravos—and we see him burning up things, like candles, how he killed Khessa, and the matching burn in the map at the start of the show that divides Xadia and the human kingdoms.

Simultaneously endless burning is also associated with the sun, and the Sunfire plotline as it is with the passions of humanity and how they burn themselves out like they’re their own candles of dark magic.

Hopelessly yearning is also interesting—because we once again see (narrative of) war and love contrasted and if this is from Aaravos’s perspective, he’s low key once again taunting.

Y’know how people say hopeless romantic-> it’s like there’s no hope for you, you’re done for. It reminds me of how he teases Ezran—he sees it as naivety, and it once again ties into a hopeless tone, but in a different sense, as hopeless romantic and hopelessly yearning have a better connotation than hopelessness overall.

Final note is if it’s red wedding. (First letters of each stanza backwards) RED? and either sol+karim and/or aaravos crashes the wedding I’ll be happy for the rest of the year thank you (for angsts sake)

Regardless of my hopes or speculation, though it definitely seems that this is going to be the episode where all the tensions come to fruition, and the SUNFIRE Civil War begins or comes to a climax if anything. Which Also makes me think the rest of the episodes leading up to this focus more heavily on the other characters and plot lines.👀

On a sidenote, I think it’s really funny that Devon signed her name is Devonius Ghiel and it’s the first thing that stuck out to me here

#the dragon prince #self spaghettification #tdp speculation #tdp s6 #tdp s6 title puzzle

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carrot-felisidad · 1 year ago

Text

FURIHATA KOUKI FANS, ARISE!

There is a new FUTURISTIC train running through Tokyo to Nikko (not kyoto area unfortunately) and I'm sure our boy will like it.

I challenge authors to include this new train in your fanfic.

Here's the ig reel for more info:

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Of course, only the great Akashi Seijuurou can afford the cockpit lounge, and of course, there are endless possibilities on how they can end up riding this train together.

There are cute train-shapes bentos that I'm pretty sure Kouki will like!

So many prompts could happen.

Kouki may be secretly rich and Akashi was surprised to see that the one he's fighting against for the lounge is Seirin's number 12.

Or the classic, they go on a sweet date and Akashi buys ticket for 2. Proceed to Kouki nerding out and Akashi finding it adorable.

You can go political and emphasize the obvious divide of the rich and the poor, the extreme version of Nozomi vs Kodama trains.

You can go dark or smut and take advantage of the extreme privacy of the luxury cars.

THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!

(also, if this piqued your interest to the point that you started writing, please link to this post please i beg you, thank you I love you all)

#akafuri #furihata kouki #knb #akashi seijuurou #kuroko no basket #Instagram

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onlyacrazy-cat · 1 year ago

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A head Canon about the red crown in colt, im making a fic about it! Hope you like it

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"What you achieved, was it a mystery and almost a miracle, something destined?..."

The lamb looked sadly at Shamura, it was always the same, something that no one could explain, the continuous reminder that it was an anomaly, that perhaps would never be repeated, made them feel even lonelier than they already felt.

“It's what you've heard for years…. “isnt it?” Shamura interrupted.

“What happened to you little lamb, it was a choice.”

A choice? That was the answer? That they betrayal had simply led to this? It definitely didn't make them feel better, but it also didn't explain the crown's unusual behavior.

The lamb spoke “Still doesn't explain why I'm the only one…”

“Not your choice, lamb, but your actions led to that.”

Shamura arranged they cards, and drew two, both hearts, which he placed on the table.

“The Crown is nothing more than an extension of us, a part of us, a reflection of our deepest desires”

Then they took one of the cards and turn in the opposite direction.

“What would happen if a part of us is away for so long, that it knows an endless number of different things, experiences feelings and desires that its counterpart does not know, would they still be part of the same being?…”

The lamb looked at the cards, the one that remained motionless was the sick heart card, and the one that turned around... the hearts i, which showed a heart divided into two colors.

“The crown choosed you, even over its former self, unlike my crown or my siblings crown, who died at our side.”

The lamb stares at the red crown, remembering the fervent battle against its former owner.

“If it is mine now, then why doesn't it listen to me? Why not…"

"It decided to stay with you, but the crown is still its own entity, it is not you, perhaps the reason why it still maintains its individuality is because the same desire that caused it to rest on your head remains fervent."

The lamb's gaze clouded, they mind was filled with negative thoughts. Did the crown choose him then just because he proved to be stronger than Narinder by destroying the former bishops? Was Narinder right? He was nothing more than a puppet for the crown? His thought was interrupted when Shsmura placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The crown was the part of narinder, the narinder who, if he had lived, seen and experienced what the crown did, would have done the same.”

"I don't understand…"

"Maybe what Narinder wanted most in his eternal Solitude was power, and in you the crown had found it... or maybe... something else, even deeper, that would explain the miracle in your hands."

The lamb still did not understand but the crown looked at him intently, it had that determined look, which gave them comfort and assured him that they could win any battle, the look it gave him when they was afraid, or when he felt alone and cried at night.

“In your hands, you hold the piece of narinder that chose you, even over himself.”

----

Hey there i hope you like it, in my head Cannon, narinder did had some feelings for the lambs since his solitude but he cared more abour vengance, yet the crown who was 24/7 with the lamb could jnot just ignore the feeling, the feeling growth, at the end the crown choosed to protect the lamb, no matter the price, and still, yeah, the crown choosed the lamb out of love and wanting to protect him, the feeling that made possible such a miracle, also being a choise by narinder (unconscious one tho) By granting them power so that them are not hurt, it means that their relationship is not one of power, of one over the other, but rather that they are on a similar level, because their power is born from the concern they have for each other.

Also, Shamura is now Clauneck's apprentice in my story, that's why they uses tarot cards!

#cult of the lamb #narilamb #cotl narinder #colt #lamb x narinder #cotl shamura #rotd #catscanwrite #narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #red crown

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haggishlyhagging · 2 years ago

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As Foucault points out, under imperialist-class labor exploitation, and Christian doctrines of innate human corruption, the whole idea of work had changed. Work was man's just punishment for being born sinful. Daily work was no longer seen as seasonal-cyclic-ritual participation in the life of earth (because it was no longer that), or as sheer productiveness of wealth, but as a moral exercise or expiation of mortal guilt. "Since the Fall, man had accepted labor as a penance for its power to work redemption. It was not a law of nature which forced men to work, but the effect of a curse." At least, this is how the religious and courtly elites interpreted human work, for such a definition worked to their advantage. People had to bend their backs in endless unrewarding labor—not to provide the few in power with unearned luxury and idleness—but to pay back their debt of guilt to God. Therefore the poor, seen as refusing to work, were also refusing to be moral, refusing to be righteous, refusing to pay their debt of sin to God. This concept of human labor has ruled the Western world for centuries. The religious ideology of work as divine punishment adjusts people's minds to accept the idea of work as an exploitation of one's life energies.

The definition of the female body and female energy under patriarchal systems corresponds to the definition of the body/energy of the poor and workers under Capitalist economics. The bodily capacities and energies of some people are exploited, used as tools by others; and this is the development of all true classes, which can be simply categorized as "the users" and "the used." Foucault writes that the body's "constitution as a labour power is possible only if it is caught up in a system of subjection (in which need is also a political instrument meticulously prepared, calculated and used); the body becomes a useful force only if it is both a productive body and a subjected body." Thus the political use of the body: the female body, or the body of the working class. The body cannot be used or exploited unless it is both oppressed and still functioning. This "useful tool" conditioning of females and workers is achieved by repressing the body's vital sexual energy, forcing it to sublimate in piety and drudgery. And this conditioning, as Reich clearly saw, is always achieved through religion and religious indoctrination; because, in fact, the spiritual and sexual energies are always subliminally linked.

The church-state ruling elite needs obedient workers to keep the economic and military organizations which service its power running. It also needs obedient (or at least powerless) female bodies to mass produce the workers, the armies, the police, and so forth. Foucault, again, writes that “a population will be precious in proportion to its numbers, since it will afford industry a cheap labor force, which, by lowering the cost price, will permit a development of products and commerce.” By doctrinally controlling the reproductive processes of women—forbidding contraception and abortion, making the multiplying of bodies an act by which the male simultaneously serves his God while subjugating his woman, etc.—the church upholds and furthers the state's power and its busyness, by assuring a continuous large and exploitable population, guaranteeing (1) overspill of numbers to make armies, i.e., "cannon fodder"; (2) a cheap labor force which is divided against itself via endemic competition of its numbers; and (3) a disorganized and malnourished mass which is more vulnerable to political manipulation from the top.

-Monica Sjöö and Barbara Mor. The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering The Religion of the Earth.

#monica sjöö #Barbara mor #capitalist society #worker exploitation #imperialism #female oppression #patriarchy #church and state

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eldritchaccident · 7 months ago

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Timing: April 16th Location: Ontario, Canada Warnings: asphyxiation tw Summary: Teddy finds the fam

The road eastward brought blooms and warmth. Even as north as Canada, spring made its way into each and every bud, every blade of grass, every flower rebelliously bursting through half frozen soil. Bringing brightness and color to an otherwise inauspicious trek. The road, a dull gray, felt twice as dire in contrast to the burst of life on either side of the blackened river of concrete and asphalt. The coordinates landed a few hours northeast of Thunder Bay in Ontario. Across the tumultuous waves of Lake Superior.

The town itself wasn’t named on the map, but the small section of the coastline was almost… too perfectly hidden from any means of internet research. The only ways that led in were nameless ghost roads winding from numbered tributaries, eventually leading off towards the main arterial highways of the Great White North. The secrecy wasn’t comforting. If anything, it brought back the severe stare that picture leveled against Teddy, the way it made their stomach curdle.

Few thoughts brought them solace, but nothing would calm their mind if they didn’t go down this road. Little memories provided warmth. Rough hands gently rubbing circles on their back. The smell of wet earth as two pairs of gloves tenderly introduced seedlings to the soil. Splashes of water and flashes of fur, scales, tiny buggy feets all being cared for by one who barely shows her smiles to the world. Late night pizza filled research sessions, learning the ways of magic neither had been instructed upon. When Teddy finished all this, when they got the answers they were looking for, that was their reward. Going home. Being at peace. Being able to live and exist again, no longer torn in two by a past divided.

Destiny came sooner the more they thought on its epilogue.

The drive was long, hard, and filled with endless uneventful hours for Teddy to sit and ruminate on every possibility. Every outcome, however unlikely. They almost missed the sign declaring their entrance into the town of Echo. Proudly declaring a small population, barely capping a thousand residents. The sign was old though, so, who knew if it was accurate. Teddy took a minute to confer with the gps system (Since their phone was utterly useless now). They were heading in the right direction. This was it.

Wheels rolled onward, the yellow bug rumbling into what appeared to be the one main drag this town had to offer. Old Victorian and Colonial style houses dappled the streets along with small shops and restaurants. A single grocery store, and thankfully, a motel. A good place as any to set up shop.

Teddy pulled into the small parking lot, headed in towards what looked like the office, happy to see a smiling (albeit a little shocked) face at the end of their long, long trip.

“H-hey there! Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter stuttered, almost like she was unsure if this fell within her job description. Teddy returned her smile only bigger, and she seemed to relax.

“Don’t get too many travelers here do you?”

“Nah, certain times of year, sure. Can’t say this is really tourist season now, bud.” She looked apologetic, and Teddy noticed the phone she tucked away into her desk, and how candy crush was for sure still on the screen. “But we’re always glad to see a new face! Are you planning on staying?”

“Absolutely, Just a room for one, please.” “Can do, Just need to see your license and a credit card and I can get ya set right up.” The clerical steps weren’t exactly the most interesting thing, but Teddy was pleased when the two fake cards went undetected.

“Mr. Jogia…? How many nights do you wanna book with us?”

“Put me down for a week.”

“Oh my! Alrighty, what brings you up this way?”

“Ah, you know. Doing some research for a school project. Something about the older and less well known towns in Ontario.” A classic lie, half laden with just a sprinkling of truth. Research, yes, school? Eh. Teddy figured they knew enough from watching shows that a history class might give out something like this as homework.

The rest of the conversation was about as friendly (if dry) as it had been til that point. Teddy was given a room and the keys along with it. The secretary, June, even gave them a heads up on which restaurants were a must, and which were a bust. Poutine De Manger. Was amongst the highest rated, and of course had their mind going back to Wicked’s Rest and that strange animal control officer with his very favorite phrase.

With their bags unpacked and quaint little room set up for the week, Teddy set out into the town. The final stretch to the coordinates on the back of the picture. The road leading up was paved, but strangely. The normal gravel and concrete method had been forsaken in favor of some intricate mosaic. One that Teddy recognized had the same symbol they kept seeing all throughout the town. Almost every building, every road sign, every business had it somewhere on them. Even the sign leading into the town itself bore the sixteen pointed star.

Before they could even see the break in the trees, Teddy pulled their car off to the side. Hiding it (well enough) with some branches and whatnot. The rest of the trek would have to be on foot, lest someone notice the sound and give away their position. Between the trees, they made their approach, finding not just one house but several. Almost like a cul-de-sac or Plantation, with a central manor surrounded by smaller, but no less intricate houses.

Teddy crept from hiding place to hiding place until the figures came fully into view. A scattering of people walked in amongst the buildings. Some of them were further off from the main stretch. In the space stretching between, fields of various herbs and flowers grew and were tended to by some of the inhabitants. A lot of which, they admitted to themself, looked similar to them. One of the ones in the field had the same nose and hair as Teddy, but a much more muscular build. Tattoos along his arms and neck, runic, sometimes glowing as the caster exerted magical effort. Another, over by what looked to be stables had the same eyes, the same skin tone, and the same smile, but much taller and somehow even lankier than Teddy. It was odd. A series of fun house mirrors over and over again. If this truly was their father’s home, did that mean this was a whole family affair, a whole coven? Were they… cousins? An idea that sent a fluttering in Ted’s stomach, too early to tell whether it was a good or a bad thing.

A few more carefully timed sprints, a semi-hazardous climb, and Teddy had managed to find a vantage point from which to fully observe. The barn had an overlook in the attic. From there the caster could stay hidden all while peering into the windows of a few of the houses. Able to keep track of the comings and goings of any of the main structures. Cautious and careful, they settled in for the long watch.

The largest house captured the largest portion of their attention. Why wouldn’t it? The grand old manor had people coming in and out at all times of the day. A bustling hive of activity, alight with magical energy. This whole place thrummed with it. Electrified, exhilarating. Made it hard for Teddy to keep still but they needed this information. Needed to find him. Still, a few hours in there was no sign.

Afternoon turned to dusk, and in the twilight Teddy began to nod off. Sleep finally caught up, the ever persistent hunter. But a sound, sharp and metallic, caught them before they slipped. A car door had slammed just outside of the main manor. A few of the casters below dragged someone from their seat. Teddy squinted, trying to make out the face of the new player, but realized quickly they hadn’t recognized them at all. A man, skinny, white, maybe in his late thirties or early forties. Hard to say. He looked haggard and horrified, made even more so when the doors to the manor flung open and an old woman flanked on either side by masked guards casually stepped forward.

Gold embroidered the shawl draped along her shoulders with ancient runes and glyphs. An old dark cane clicked against the stonework as she stepped down. Elegant, somehow, was the first word that came to Teddy’s mind. Fierce was next, followed quickly by terrifying. Something in her stature spoke of raw power. She radiated it. Embodied it. Carrying her age like a weapon rather than a crutch. Her gaze was just as severe as the one in the photo. Her features too similar to be anyone but Teddy’s very own grandmother.

There was a conversation happening, but the only parts the hidden caster could make out were the pleas of the man, begging for more time. Saying he could collect the money, that he could pay off his debt. She seemed utterly uninterested, right up until the man lurched forward. Attempting what Teddy could only imagine was some kind of Hail Mary to escape.

Simply as anything, the old woman raised her hand. A glow lit her eyes up in the dim golden dusk. Bright, tealish blue. First, a barrier manifested between her and the charging man, who Teddy only just realized had been let go by the two from the car. Next was much harder to watch. The same barrier slunk in and wrapped around the man’s head. Slowly, excruciatingly, shrinking, smaller, smaller, smaller.

Claustrophobia hadn’t been one of Teddy’s biggest fears or anything, but even they felt like the world was just a little too tight while they watched the man struggle for air and space. His hands scratched to no avail at the magical material, all while the woman looked coldly on, uncaring, unmoving. All they could think of was how Leviathan explained Lydia’s death, how it said Teddy laughed while she suffocated. The beast had been proud of that. Brought it up often. Watching it happen now to some stranger, all they felt was sick.

They couldn’t watch anymore. There wasn’t anything they could do for the man. Averted eyes fell on another scene. Off the main course, toward one of the other houses. Another set of windows into a life that might have been theirs. Breath caught in Teddy’s throat, the very person they’d been looking for sat in the living room of that house. Time hadn’t sat still for the man, dusty white streaks peppered his temples and beard. Lines drew long on his face, somehow making his features more angular, more severe. Except… he was smiling.

He wasn’t alone.

A young girl with long dark wavy hair stood in front, happily displaying a show of magical efficiency. The same teal light choking a man not thirty yards away danced along her fingers and manipulated a series of flowers to form a crown. Their father looked enthused. Proud.

Struck, suddenly, Teddy’s chest tightened. Their breath left entirely. Blood rushed from their fingers, from their face, all flooding to their legs. Ready to run. Heartbeats became all they could hear, drowning the dying man’s wails from inside his personal magical torture chamber. They could feel their own magic welling up, threatening to surface, threatening to break something. Teddy had to leave. Teddy had to get out of there before their position was compromised. Teddy had to do something or they were going to explode.

Finding their father was a lot. Finding a whole family of casters with whom they shared blood was a lot.

But this was too much.

Teddy had a little sister.

Shit.

#wickedswriting

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blackrosesmatron · 10 months ago

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The scenery was a familiar one, Emilia having been there on more than one occasion. An endless wasteland, shrouded by a thick layer of fog, and laments in the form of whispers coming from all directions. If there were any doubts about where she could possibly be, the not so gentle pull of the river settled the matter.

She found herself in Death again. She did not recall ever performing the ritual necessary for her to trespass the shroud that divided the realms, and sure enough, she would not let herself be so easily tricked into going there, not while she knew who was waiting for her.

So, how?

Anxiety started to chew on her insides as her mind continuously tried to make sense of what was happening, giving way to a full-fledged panic attack when she heard a rumbling laugh that shook her entire soul. She knew that laugh well, even better than she knew the realm she currently found herself stuck in.

"Run all you want, you cannot escape me. You bear my sigil, and there is nowhere you can hide from me. Your wards can do very little to prevent me from reaching you." The current of the river suddenly changed direction, Emilia having only enough time to turn around before a dark, shadowy hand pulled her towards her old Lord, forcing her to be within arm's reach of the Iron Revenant. His dark armor emitted an eerie glow that exuded power, power he had conquered for himself. "You belong to me, Evaine." She could feel the coldness of his gauntlet as he outstretched his arm to grab her.

She jolted upright, gasping for air the very moment Mordekaiser was about to get a hold of her. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, her heart pounding like a drum in the silence of the night. It took her eyes a couple of seconds to adapt to the darkness of her room, yet she continued to scan every centimeter of her personal chambers, half expecting to see a tall shadow observing her. Nothing.

Those nightmares were becoming more frequent and more realistic. It was getting to the point where she started to question if they were just dreams or if Mordekaiser had found a way to reach her through her dreams. Was it just her fear and paranoia taking away her ability to rest, or was her old master destroying her psyche? Each nightmare left her more exhausted in every possible sense. Her nerves were in shackles, her focus was held by a threat, and her body felt like collapsing on most days.

Emilia had to reduce the number of clones, for even though she gave them some level of autonomy, they still siphoned her energies and demanded brainpower to always be alert in case something truly important happened. She was keeping only five clones, and even those she had to dismiss every now and then, for her energies were running low.

Throwing the silk sheet that covered her away, Emilia left her bed and picked a robe to cover herself as she headed towards the door. She knew sleep was no longer an option, so the best she could do was to walk and try to get her mind distracted with something—anything. Her feet took her outside, where the first signs of spring were starting to show, especially with how many flower buds were appearing on every single plant in her garden.

With one exception that made her entire body freeze, her eyes widening in pure terror.

Her rose bushes of the black variety had withered fully. While all else grew greener, that one bush was dead. The memory of the laugh and the cold sensation the river gave off returned in full force, tricking her mind into seeing both realms overlaying one another. She could see both her gardens and the endless wasteland of death.

Her knees gave up, and Emilia collapsed on the ground, tears burning down her face as they followed a pre-marked path on her cheeks. He was right. She could run but not hide. And soon, not even running would be a possibility. He was undermining her entire being to make it unnecessarily easier to take her down and collect her soul so she would be forced to face him once more.

He had her cornered.

"There is no escape."

#drabble

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 6 months ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 19

Chapters: 19/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Important notice: I am aware of the current allegations against Neil Gaiman and made a statement here.

As the chaos in the Dreaming continued to escalate, you felt compelled to trust your instincts once again and embark on a solo journey to Georgia. If only you had known that you were on the verge of stepping into a living nightmare.

Immovable, you were tethered to the couch for a lengthy span of fifteen minutes, rhythmically shifting your leg in anxiety while your hand served as a shield for your mouth.

The Dream Beach was gone. The truth was difficult to accept, but you were certain that the imagery from your dream was not merely a subconscious invention. You noticed the fractures, experienced the desolation, and witnessed the unfolding destruction of the land. It was authentic, as tangible as the dreams you inhabited could possibly be.

The thought of you, or any other human, being cut off from the Dreaming because of the Vortex rupturing the barriers between your dimensions, was an absolute trauma for you. Morpheus radiated a sense of certainty that everything was well-managed. He staunchly believed that the circumstances involving Rose would stay steady and she posed no danger to his kingdom or the Waking World. Yet, the current truth stood in glaring opposition to that belief.

In light of the perilously rapid degradation occurring within the Dreaming, one couldn’t help but question if he could even remain unscathed.

So engrossed were you in your private bubble, that you barely registered Hal's approach towards the couch. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty! You're awake.”

The instant you turned to face him, your paleness immediately swept away his smile. "Oh God, are you okay?”

You swallowed, attempting to shrug off your worries with a laugh. "Yes, sorry. I just had a bad dream.”

Hal appeared to ease up, settling down next to you. "You wouldn't believe how strange my dreams have been lately. Did you ever stare at your own self taking the skin off their face?”

You arched an eyebrow. "That sounds like a scene straight out of a horror movie.”

"It certainly was. I don't ever want to look like that.”

You released a calming sigh. “That will never happen considering how cute you are.”

Taken aback by your unexpected compliment, Hal's eyes widened with surprise. His countenance immediately lit up, and he subtly adjusted his position, tilting sideways to prop his elbow on the back of the couch, cradling his face. "I am, right?”

With a chuckle, you replied, "Oh yeah. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Despite the pleasure you derived from his company and the comfort of his beautifully inviting home, your mind remained restless. You really coveted the blissful ignorance he seemed to possess, oblivious of the unseen perils lurking in the shadows.

Or rather, in his dreams.

"Hey, uhm, Is Rose still here?" you asked promptly.

"No, she left with Gilbert little less than an hour ago.”

Intriguing, you mused, that of all people, it was Gilbert who had chosen to accompany her.

“Someone called, they found Jed Walker.”

You gasped in surprise. "They did??”

"Yeah! Rose was ecstatic.”

Amidst the surrounding tragedies and perils, that was the best thing that could possibly happen. Why did you feel so nervous then, as if an impending disaster was on the horizon because of it?

"Do you have any idea where they went?”

Hal furrowed his brow in thought. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe Rose mentioned the Royal Empire Hotel in Georgia. I heard there's a convention happening there.”

How on earth did Jed manage to get that far from Cape Kennedy?

"What could he possibly be doing in Georgia? I find it hard to believe that he traveled there alone.”

Hal shrugged. "I have no idea. But in the end, does it really matter?”

You offered a smile. "I suppose not, as long as he's safe and sound.”

However, you found it hard to truly believe that.

As he got up from the couch, rolling up his sleeves to attend to more chores around the building, an internal voice was compelling you to leave. Even without understanding the reasons, you found yourself needing to locate Rose.

"Hal.. is there a bus route I could use to get there?”

"Why? Are you considering a trip to Georgia?”

For a fleeting moment, you thought about dismissing such an absurd idea Yet, an inexplicable intuition was insisting that you had to go.

And by that point, you knew all too well that your gut never led you astray.

"Well, I'm off work today. I might as well take any chance that comes my way to visit this Country.”

Hal appeared noticeably confused, but he didn't probe any further. In the end, he supplied a simple map outlining the bus route you needed to follow, indicating the precise stop where you should alight, along with a short walking path afterwards.

"Are you certain you want to go there alone? It will take you more than two hours. I’d come with you if I could, but…”

"No worries, I'll handle it.”

He nodded, albeit with concern, and pulled out what appeared to be a personal business card from a drawer. "You have the B&B's number, but this one is my personal line. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

Aw.

"Thanks, Hal. You're truly kind.”

He smiled, wishing you a safe trip to Georgia, before exiting the room to resume his duties. You remained there, scrutinizing the elaborate, business-like card, before tucking it securely into your wallet. You collected your bag from the hanger at the entrance, and with a few quick strides, you embarked on your journey down the deserted road towards the first bus stop that Hal had marked.

You must have been insane, setting off on such a reckless adventure in a foreign land, guided merely by a peculiar feeling gnawing at your gut. But as you tried to reconsider your decision, slackening your stride and turning around several times, it seemed as though an invisible force was propelling you onwards.

And so you waited, nervously pacing to and fro, until the bus finally arrived. It was already filled with passengers, each bound for their individual destinations, be they solo adventurers, couples, or families.

And thus began your voyage, heading directly to Georgia, in pursuit of something about which you had no real understanding.

More than an hour had elapsed, and as you gazed at the serene, green landscape through the window, you could sense your impatience intertwining with escalating concern. A child was singing and bouncing in his seat, despite his parents' futile attempts to calm him down. Others were engrossed in their private phone conversations, while the bus driver solely focused on the road ahead, barely blinking an eye.

You passed the time by scrolling through your emails, exchanging messages with Ella about the current project, and even succeeded in catching up with Hob, your father, as well as a few other colleagues who were intrigued about your experience in Florida. None of them seemed to be impacted by the happenings in the Dreaming, which could potentially be seen as a positive sign.

Unfortunately, the internal turmoil you were wrestling with told a completely different story.

Plugging in your earphones again, you selected your primary playlist and set it to shuffle. The first song that played was "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics, an ironic choice that made you chuckle to yourself.

Your head gently knocked against the window, as your eyes traced the rapidly passing scenery outside.

Sweet dreams are made of this

Who am I to disagree?

I've traveled the world and the seven seas

Everybody's lookin' for something

You observed the trees, the bushes, and the occasional bird soaring up into the sky. Your thoughts drifted to Rose, to the innate power she had held since birth, but which had only started to manifest recently. Such a formidable power, one that even the King of Dreams couldn't obstruct, unless it implied terminating the girl's life. A power that was currently devastating a significant portion of Morpheus' realm, a process you had seen unravel in merely three days.

Hold your head up

Keep your head up, movin' on

Hold your head up, movin' on

Keep your head up, movin' on

Hold your head up, movin' on

Keep your head up, movin' on

Hold your head up, movin' on

Keep your head up

Months of strenuous labor, of constant rebuilding and re-creation. Months of effort to mend what a century of human greed and selfishness had torn asunder.

The lyrics of the song playing in your ears receded, transforming into a distant echo, as your eyelids grew heavy due to the gentle jostling of the vehicle on the road.

To state that Morpheus was livid would be an understatement. Watching Rose Walker and Lyta Hall casually saunter towards the house that the woman's husband audaciously constructed in his realm, all while circumventing the space assigned to him, sparked not just a feeling of defiance but also a deep self-reproach.

How had he overlooked the presence of a specter within the Dreaming? How had he permitted a mortal to be in his realm as though she were conscious? The mere fact that Lyta was now expecting a child, conceived in his domain and far from a typical human being, was more than enough to stop the chaos instigated by the Vortex. The extensive crevice that had formed and was expanding unbeknownst to them, was something he could not permit to grow further.

He ought to have heeded Lucienne's advice. Your negative premonitions deserved more of his attention too.

“So, what do you think?” Matthew inquired.

Morpheus responded without any hesitation. “Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors. And that I am taking care of it.”

Matthew emitted a caw before unfurling his wings and soaring towards the castle of the Endless. Simultaneously, Morpheus set off for the house, making certain he reached there before the girls could.

He reprimanded the deceased, demanding his immediate departure to restore the equilibrium of his realm. The ghost wept, begged, and implored for another opportunity, but it was something Morpheus simply could not grant.

In the presence of Rose and his wife, he banished Hector Hall from the Dreaming, before any further harm could be inflicted to both of your dimensions.

Even though such an act was bound to lead to inevitable heartbreak.

You hadn't anticipated the lingering exhaustion from jet lag, even after surpassing 48 hours. But considering the restless night you had experienced earlier, the present need for your body to recover wasn't entirely surprising.

For a brief moment, you slept devoid of any dreams. Or more precisely, the only image you beheld was the boundless expanse of darkness, with a fog gradually enveloping you. The sounds from the bus, melding with the ongoing song, resonated in your mind until they faded into silence.

Then, the scene transitioned, akin to a cinematic sequence where the vignette slowly dissolves. You were standing in lush surroundings, serene and soothing, yet tainted by an eerie presence lurking nearby. You struggled to articulate it; nothing appeared amiss or displaced, but an unshakeable conviction told you something wasn't right. You ventured forth, surveying the unknown location with each step, until a large, white structure materialized in the distance.

What stood before you resembled a contemporary house, marked by perfect geometry and long rows of windows that would afford any dweller a magnificent view, while also revealing the interior to outside eyes. Though it may have appeared sterile, the minimalist design conveyed a sense of careful planning and construction. Encircling the house was a circular pond, brimming with crystal clear water.

It was a sight to behold, mirroring the picturesque scenery one might find on a postcard… were it not marred by the hideous fissure before you, threatening to cleave the ground in two.

Then it occurred once more, that dreadful earth tremor that caused the entire place to shudder violently, much like a blender, knocking you off balance and bringing you down to your knees. Your hands grazed the short grass, and the moment they did, you were gripped by an intense emotional pain that constricted your heart, hindering its normal rhythm.

As inconceivable as it may be, you could feel it; the Dreaming was suffering. It seemed as though it was actually crying.

As the earthquake subsided, you stood up and observed the house, which appeared impeccably untouched from your vantage point.

The urge to approach and inspect it was compelling. Yet, before you could take another step, a familiar voice halted you.

"I wouldn't go there if I were you.”

The deer from your previous dreams suddenly arrived at your side, as majestic and beautiful as ever, tracing your line of sight.

You smiled. "It's you again. How do you always manage to find me?”

"You're dreaming, Y/N. Does my presence bother you?”

Your eyes softened. "No, that's not what I was implying.”

"Good. Because right now, you might truly need my assistance.”

In all your encounters with the Dreaming, you had never met this articulate creature before. Could it be possible that Morpheus had purposefully dispatched it to you, to offer guidance in his absence during that particularly trying period?

"Why do you suggest I shouldn't approach that house? This is my dream, after all.”

The deer regarded you with what could be interpreted as a raised eyebrow. "Uhh… actually, it's not.”

“What…?”

He sighed. "That is the house that Lyta Hall's husband created, for the two of them.”

You blinked in confusion. "Wait, Lyta? Rose's friend?”

The deer nodded.

"But, if this is her dream, how have I ended up here?”

"The Vortex has diminished the barriers between dreams. Consequently, you can access regions of the Dreaming that would typically remain hidden from you.”

You narrowed your eyes, attempting to discern any presence within the house. From what you could observe, it was completely vacant.

"I presume she's awake now.”

"She is, as Lord Morpheus has taken measures to ensure her return to this place would not occur. Or at least, not to this house with that cheating ghost.”

You scratched your forehead. "Wait a minute. What is this all about? A ghost? Why is she prohibited from dreaming this?”

"Right, I should clarify.”

“Please do.”

“As you already know, when mortals die, they are escorted to the Sunless Lands. However, in this instance, Mr. Hall became ensnared in the Dreaming due to the influence of the Vortex.”

You listened intently, trying to assemble all the information together. "So, Lyta's husband didn't fully pass away, but rather remained in this realm?”

“Correct. The Vortex has empowered him to locate his wife, and as a result, to conceive a child with her.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment. "A child?! You mean… her dream actually made her pregnant?”

"Yes. That's why this place is currently in peril.”

Then it dawned on you. The fact that Lyta had been claiming to feel ill, even declining to open the door for others to see her.

"Is that possible?”

"It is not a common occurrence and typically involves special circumstances or intervention by powerful beings. So now, the child this woman carries? It's certainly not going to be an ordinary mortal.”

Your head was spinning, but whether it was due to your confusion or the dream's haziness, you couldn't really tell. "Because it was conceived within the Dreaming.”

"Yes. It will forever be tied to this place, regardless of her feelings on the matter.”

You positioned your hands on your hips, peering at the structure. "What about her husband?”

The deer stirred, ambling ahead of you. "Gone. Permanently. Lord Morpheus saw to it.”

The tragedy of such a situation could only be imagined - reuniting with a loved one in your dreams, only to endure the pain of their loss once again.

"Y/N, I know what you’re thinking. Trust me when I say that he really didn't have a choice. Lyta Hall was forsaking her life in the Waking World, believing she could reside here forever, with a man who was supposed to be gone a long time ago.”

You looked into the animal's glassy, dark eyes.

"Do you see the damage they've inflicted? The Dreaming is not a sanctuary for the dead to hide, nor a haven for mortals to escape their grief.”

You squatted down, bringing your face level with his. Your fingers tenderly cupped the deer’s face, caressing his short fur down his neck. "If you think that I'll harbor resentment towards Morpheus because of this, then don't.”

“You… you won’t…?”

"I don't question his actions or motives, because I understand. this place has been literally split in half, and my own Dream Land has completely vanished. If that is the fate all mortals will have to confront, if we must all lose our dreams due to the Vortex, then.... can I truly blame him for doing what was necessary?”

The deer stayed silent, assessing your expression and gently cocking his head to one side. It was quite amusing to see.

"…Oh.”

You gave his nose a light, affectionate tap. "I genuinely feel sorry for Lyta, don’t get me wrong. But even I understand that the notion of spending the rest of our lives in dreams is irrational.”

"I see why he is so fond of you," the deer stated. "You are certainly unique.”

You were on the verge of expressing your gratitude, but as soon as you parted your lips, another earthquake rippled through the Dreaming, broadening the chasm and sending you sprawling once more.

The roar was genuinely horrifying, sounding as if the entire realm was teetering on the edge of annihilation. Thankfully, calm was reinstated almost immediatly, and as you righted yourself, your heart hammered so violently you could sense it in your throat.

“Seems like these tremors will continue for a little while longer.”

"Morpheus....”

"He's fine. Well, as fine as one can be in a situation like this.”

"I need to see him. Where is he?”

The deer executed a gesture that any human would interpret as a shrug. "In the castle, of course. Attending to... well, matters.”

"How do I even get to the palace from here?"

"You're dreaming, remember? You can go anywhere you want.”

You examined your surroundings, studying the area from top to bottom, but despite your best efforts, you came to the realization that your skills were not as finely tuned as you had previously believed.

"Uhhh....”

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Why do I have to do everything around here?”

The deer retreated, assuming what resembled a hostile stance, positioning his antlers in a way that was far from comforting.

"Wait, what are you-”

He charged forward, and as you raised your hands in an attempt to halt him, panicking at the thought of being struck, he collided directly with your form.

The impact propelled you backward, and the scenery around you transformed entirely, substituted by the opulent castle bathed in the glow of candlelight, the soft blaze of torches, and the colorful stained glass windows. You let out a sigh of relief, examining yourself, but found no signs of injury or pain.

"Well, I suppose that worked," you muttered to yourself. "Though, a warning would have been appreciated.”

Leaving your current spot to weave your way through the maze of library shelves, you spotted numerous volumes scattered on the floor, and some of the windows displaying prominent cracks. Everything appeared as if it had been hit by a tornado, and as you advanced, you frequently had to scramble over shattered wooden fragments and debris.

You scrutinized every corner, hearing Lucienne's voice echoing from afar. But then you caught sight of the towering figure of the King of Dreams, of Lord Morpheus, of your wonderful, extraordinary boyfriend, diligently collecting some of the fallen items. He restored them to their rightful places, moving with the attitude of someone feeling overwhelmed by their task. You noted it in his lethargic movements, in his sluggish steps, and in the taut muscles of his neck.

And it totally devastated you. Observing him in such a condition - so solitary, so melancholic, after all that he had suffered and accomplished to return his castle to its former glory - provoked an urge to cry and yell with all your might.

Because it wasn't fair.

And so, you stepped out from the shadows, reaching out your arms and calling his name. “Morpheus!”

He scarcely had time to pivot before you collided with him, wrapping his shoulders in a firm hug while suppressing the tears that threatened to dampen his coat.

"My love," he murmured gently, his voice vibrating in his chest.

You drew back just enough to claim a kiss from him, one laden with desperation and longing. His hands found your back, humming in surprise against your lips, but slowly returning your gesture.

You loved him. You loved him far too much. At times, the depth of your feelings terrified you, but you couldn't envision a life devoid of them.

And you detested knowing he was in danger, feeling utterly powerless to assist him.

Upon breaking away from him, you instantly searched for his eyes. “Are you okay?”

His eyebrows knitted together. "I am.”

"I've seen so much destruction around here, I... I was concerned.”

He gazed at you tenderly, trailing his cool fingertips along the nape of your neck. "Your intuition was well founded, my love. I required Rose to guide me to my subjects, but in doing so, I failed to recognize there was something else. Something the Vortex had created.”

"Yes, I've been informed," you reassured him. "I know what happened with Lyta and her husband. And once again, allow me to stress that you couldn't have handled the situation any differently.”

He was momentarily at a loss for words, yet concurrently, the faint smile that emerged on his lips suggested that he anticipated that and much more from you.

"I only have one question.”

He nodded his head. “Go on.”

"What will become of their baby?”

His eyes darkened, and he grappled with finding the words to articulate the complex answer he needed to deliver.

"The child is bound to this realm," he explained as straightforwardly as he could. "It belongs here.”

You mulled over it, absorbing his words. "So, does that imply she can't keep the child?”

“She can, for now.”

She hadn't just lost her husband twice, but now even her baby, the only vestige of him and their love, was something she couldn't assert as entirely hers. How cruel could fate be?

"This is so messed up," you voiced. "Why is everyone suffering? Rose, Lyta, you?”

“Y/N…”

"I understand that no one is to blame. But believe me when I say that I wish someone was. So I could... I don't know, vent my frustration at them. At something.”

Seeing your indignation on his behalf, and for those humans you barely knew, yet still cherished and respected, caused Morpheus to let out a soft snicker through his nose.

But it was fleeting. Because when you turned, collecting a few books from the floor, he heard your sniffles and the expulsion of a shaky breath.

"My love.”

"Let me help you. Since I'm already here, it's the least I could do.”

You gathered a substantial stack, heavy, but barely acknowledging the weight, and positioned it on a nearby table cluttered with various volumes and scattered papers.

"Y/N, listen to me.”

"Where do these ones go?”

You sensed the rustling of his coat as he moved, positioning himself right behind you, his chest against your back. His hands slid along your arms, descending to your wrists, and finally to your palms.

"Leave them," he murmured in your ear. "Tell me what's troubling you.”

Your fingers slackened their hold on the books, falling weakly as Morpheus took them into his possession. You leaned into him, savoring the feeling of the side of his face touching yours.

"I just... I can't bear it. Rose has been searching for her brother for so many years, lost her mother not long ago, and now that she's finally found him, her own life hangs in the balance because of her Vortex abilities.”

He breathed in and out at a soothing pace, not daring to interrupt you.

"Those same abilities that are tearing this place apart. That enabled Lyta to find her lost love, conceive a child, only to relinquish everything. Right after you labored so relentlessly to fix this place, to give back our dreams to us humans.”

Dreams that were now disintegrating once more.

"I'm sorry. I realize I'm not being very helpful.”

His hold on you weakened, but only to enable you to swivel in his arms, so that he could gaze at you.

"No, my love. Your compassion is the most notable quality that I have always admired in you.”

"Really…? Doesn't that render me weak?”

"Y/N, you are the exact antithesis of weak.”

His thumb tenderly stroked your cheekbone, and your smile finally resurfaced. Old habits die hard, and at times, being overly self-critical was something you couldn't evade.

However, the actuality of the situation couldn't be altered.

"Morpheus, the beach has been entirely erased.”

His expression changed, twisting into one of shock, anger, and disappointment. “Is it gone?”

“You didn’t know?”

His tone became grave, dropping lower. “I do now.”

It was fascinating to see how he shifted from being the one offering solace to the one requiring it. Even though that plot of land held more significance to you than it did to him, he comprehended your attachment to it, as it mirrored a segment of your subconscious. Beyond that, it was the spot where the two of you had finally connected outside of that dreadful glass prison for the first time, a critical experience that shaped your unbreakable bond.

You gently caught a few strands of hair that were falling on his forehead between your fingers, tenderly sweeping them aside, before caressing his face with your knuckles. "What are you going to do?”

"I promise to return it to you," he assured.

"Morpheus, as much as I’d love that, your primary responsibility now is to look after yourself and your realm," you expressed earnestly.

"Your dream is a component of my realm."

"Yes, but it's not an immediate necessity. After all, my greatest concern is you," you clarified. "Once everything settles down, regardless of how it ends, we can consider it. Right now, being here in the Dreaming, with you, is all that truly matters to me."

He was about to speak, but before he could articulate a response, another tremor sent the entire castle into a state of vibrations and shakes. Morpheus instinctively wrapped you in his arms, holding you securely against his body in a protective stance. You nestled into him, your hands tightly clutching the back of his coat.

Additional debris rained down from the ceiling, causing more books to crash onto the floor. The unsettling sound of cracking glass and shelves being torn from their spots filled the air.

You held your breath, anticipating the end of the earthquake. Once it finally ceased, it took a moment for you to disengage from Morpheus' hold.

"Why is this continuing?" you questioned. "Wasn’t Lyta’s dream causing it?”

"These are merely the aftershocks. They will eventually subside.”

Now, more than ever, you were profoundly aware of the delicate and fragile balance that the universe precariously upheld. Constructing things in alignment with it demanded colossal effort, yet it was remarkably easy for humans to disrupt it, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

And now that you were contemplating and discussing the creation of things, another, distinct question began to take shape in your mind.

"Morpheus, do you have any knowledge about a certain chatterbox deer? Or is it simply a figment of my imagination?”

A hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. “It is not. I crafted it for you.”

“For me…?”

"To serve as your guide during times when I cannot stand beside you.”

Your assumption wasn't that far off in the end. His gestures never ceased to amaze you.

“You gifted me a familiar?”

"Do you not wish to keep it?"

"Are you kidding?” You blurted out with a radiant smile. “I love it already!”

"In that case, perhaps you would like to give it a name.”

Among all the gifts you had ever received, a talking deer was certainly the last thing you would have expected. It was magical, spiritual, and incredibly fulfilling.

Another reason to treasure the Dreaming, with all of its contained wonders.

“Can I?”

"It is yours, after all.”

You looped your arms around his neck, reclining against the table. "Then, how about another kiss as a form of compensation?”

There was no need for you to reiterate, because Morpheus was already bringing his lips to yours. As you kissed again, you infused all your love into it, discharging the pent-up frustration and fear you had harbored for three days. Your heart pounded in your chest as his touch sparked the customary fire in you, his lips dancing with yours in a rhythm that pulsed with passion and yearning. His hands naturally found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if seeking to merge your bodies into one. The sheer intensity of the moment was overpowering, leaving you with no option but to surrender to the tumult of emotions coursing through your veins.

He craved that connection just as deeply as you did.

The world around you blurred into insignificance as you lost yourself in the depth of his eyes, feeling a sense of belonging previously unknown to you. His touch, his taste, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed.

Although it was a dream, it was undeniably one of the most vivid you'd ever received.

Until it was all over and you returned to your own reality.

The bus jostled on the road, its wheels bouncing, abruptly wrenching you away from the Lord of dreams. Your eyes snapped open, feeling dry, and you had to shake your head a few times to completely emerge from the drowsiness.

You could still savor him on your lips, his fragrance seemed to cling to you, making it feel as though he was still nearby.

A quick glance around revealed that most of the passengers had left, the vehicle gradually emptying with each stop it made. You sighed, gazing out the window once more, aware of a dull ache in your backside from the slightly uncomfortable seat.

The drive to the hotel in Georgia took another forty minutes. Only four individuals remained onboard - three men and a woman, all possessing an uncanny vibe that you couldn't exactly define.

With your shoulder bag securely in place, you disembarked the bus, noticing the descending sun outside. The hotel was situated at the far end of the road, and in just over ten minutes, you stood before its grand entrance.

Upon arrival, you saw the large sign, "Royal Empire Hotel", followed by a sizeable banner proclaiming "Welcome! Cereal Convention". Hal had mentioned some event taking place, but you never anticipated it to be a convention about that.

Given Jed's tender age, it made sense that whoever found him opted to take him there. While it didn't entirely justify the need to traverse such a considerable distance, it offered a plausible explanation for bringing him to Georgia.

Still, there was an underlying sense of disquiet, a feeling of something being tremendously off, which had had brought you to that same place.

And naturally, you should have anticipated that things wouldn't get any simpler. The moment you stepped into the hotel, you discovered that only convention attendees were granted access inside. Worse still, without a specific invitation, you couldn't even pay and check-in. Those stringent rules seemed oddly excessive for what was supposed to be a convention aimed at youngsters.

But as you delved deeper into observing the main hall, you noticed with a start that there were no children in sight. It was solely populated by adults dressed impeccably in elegant suits, save for a handful of people who preferred a more relaxed, everyday attire.

Deep regret washed over you for not securing Rose's phone number earlier. Had you possessed it, arranging a meeting outside the hotel would have been a simple task. As things stood, your only course of action was to linger hopefully at the entrance, straining your eyes to identify either her or Gilbert amid the attendees.

But really, what was the purpose of your presence if all you could do was to stand idle, only to depart without achieving anything?

No, your journey couldn't be in vain. Moreover, there was something unsettlingly sinister about that hotel, something that stirred your curiosity and convinced you to investigate. You knew it was foolhardy on your part, but the more you tried to rationalize it in your head, the stronger your intuition urged you to act.

For that reason, you probably made the most unwise decision of your life.

A woman paused before the reception desk, smoothing out her jacket as she chatted with a friend about topics that could effortlessly be construed as a TV show plot. Nevertheless, their efforts to obscure specific words while emphasizing others did not slip past your keen observation.

As she walked away, her badge detached from her jacket and dropped to the floor, going completely unnoticed. You stared at it for a solid minute, and with no one else around, you took advantage of the prevailing silence and distraction. You stooped down, masquerading the act as an adjustment to your boot, ensuring to adequately conceal the badge. Then, you casually grabbed it and slid it into your sleeve, rising back up and turning around while discreetly attaching it to your shirt.

You strolled past the momentarily unattended check-in table to make your way into the corridor, capitalizing on the perfect moment as the receptionist appeared engrossed, her gaze firmly attached to the monitor before her.

It might have been a thrilling adventure, had you known the complexity of the situation you were immersing yourself in.

You wandered aimlessly for half an hour, attempting to blend in. The conversations you unintentionally overheard served as further evidence that the event drastically differed from its advertisement. Initially, you tried to reassure yourself that the attendees were merely discussing fictitious plots, but the moment someone vividly described the disfigurement of their victim, any residual doubt evaporated.

The realization was slowly setting in that you might have inadvertently stumbled into a congregation of serial killers, confirming your earlier suspicions. The so-called 'cereal' convention was actually a cleverly disguised ruse. Cereal = Serial. It was anything but amusing.

Although you theoretically possessed some form of protection, it did little to alleviate your anxiety. Matters turned grimmer when a man in his forties approached you at the bar, trying to pique your interest by boasting about his gruesome murder cases in a misguided bid at flirting.

When he noticed the name on your badge, "The Midnight Sculptor," he naturally inquired about its significance and your particular expertise. Using all your improvisational skills, you spun a tale of being a woman who relished hunting men in the darkness and using their bodies as personal home decorations. The very thought of it made you want to retch on the spot, but somehow, you managed to keep your composure, which seemed to intrigue him to a certain extent.

Extricating yourself from that situation necessitated some cleverness and further fabrications, but eventually, the man permitted you to leave without any form of insistence.

Despite your thorough exploration, there was no sign of Rose and the others in the hotel. There was only one section you had not examined - the upper floor with all the reserved rooms. It was just a conjecture, but perhaps, after such a long journey, they had chosen to book one for themselves to recuperate and continue their travel back to Cape Kennedy the following day.

Regrettably, pinpointing the right rooms among the numerous ones wasn't going to be a straightforward endeavor. You couldn't seek assistance at the reception due to the pilfered ID and the potential risk of being caught at the check-in counter. This left you with no choice but to depend on chance and hope to bump into them accidentally.

You ascended the stairs at a lethargic pace, briefly contemplating the idea of turning back and heading home. What did you even expect to find there, besides the risks associated with such a large assembly of murderers?

Furthermore, you didn't have much time to spare considering there was only one bus available for you to catch for the day.

You paced back and forth, scrutinizing the various doors, looking for any hint that Rose or Gilbert might be there. But you were at a dead end, unable to conjure up a viable solution.

Just when you were about to surrender, ready to throw in the towel and abandon that dreadful place for good, a voice you recognized came straight from the main corridor.

And it made your blood turn icy, caused your knees to buckle, and your heart to pound erratically.

“Uh, how did it go with Philip Sitz?”

Just then, in that distinct hotel, you caught sight of none other than the Corinthian himself.

“It went well,” a woman responded. "You were missed.”

You remained a few steps back, being careful not to attract attention, as hidden as possible from their eyes.

“Did you find the boy?” She asked.

“I did. We talked.”

The boy...? Why did that evoke a sense of connection with Jed Walker…?

“He saw some grown-up things downstairs that he didn’t understand, but I explained it to him.”

Your heart continued thumping so hard that it almost left you winded.

“He won’t be a problem?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. I’ll see you downstairs.”

You heard the sound of footsteps and a door opening, only for him to just disappear behind it as the woman left. You could hear him conversing with someone inside the room, but from your location, his voice was barely audible and muffled.

You stood frozen, attentive, meticulously listening. When the door opened and closed once more, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Morpheus had directed you to alert him if there were any further incidents. You knew you had to do it, to call him. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, with the woman disappearing for whatever function they had planned on the ground floor, and the Corinthian walking past you with his disconcerting demeanor. He was solitary, with no other people around.

However, something caused you to halt in your tracks.

You were at a safe distance, he hadn't even noticed you. There was no need for you to add fuel to the fire. So why, oh why couldn't you just stay put? Why did you let your fury get the better of you, practically propelling you in his direction?

You couldn't pinpoint the answer, and in that moment, you didn't even care. All you were focused on was stopping him before he could vanish, go down the stairs, and get swarmed by those maniacs.

You closed in on him, quickening your steps until you were within arm's reach. Mustering all the strength you could, you grabbed his wrist and flung him against the wall. The impact drew a soft grunt from him, but you knew that was insignificant for a Nightmare of his caliber.

Subconsciously, you even persuaded yourself that he was merely acting, fully aware of your presence all along.

Nevertheless, you had him right where you wanted, gripping his collar and glaring at his face like a provoked animal. Except, the real monster was the one standing right in front of you.

The Corinthian's lips curled into a smirk, a laugh rumbling from his chest. He looked down at you with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. "Fancy meeting you again, ’Midnight Sculptor’,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery as he read the name printed on your badge.

"What have you done to Rose and her brother? Where are they?" you demanded, your voice steady despite the chaos in your mind.

The Corinthian tilted his head, the evil grin never leaving his face. "Why so concerned? They were never your responsibility.”

Your eyes blazed with fury. "Tell me where they are, or I swear I'll—”

"You'll what?" he interrupted, leaning closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You think you can stop me?" He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "I must say, I do appreciate your spirit.”

you fought to maintain your composure, refusing to back down. "I told you, didn’t I? I won't let you hurt any of them.”

The Corinthian gave a theatrical sigh, ultimately pushing you back with ease. And just a moment later, you were the one cornered against the wall. It occurred so rapidly that you didn't have time to process what he was doing, and contrary to your action, the Nightmare was intentionally exerting pressure, as if aiming to inflict pain.

His lips were now perilously close to yours, his nose inhaling your scent, and his left hand tightly clutching your jaw. "Very well, I'll tell you.”

The pendant had not yet activated, but you could see a subtle glow beginning to emanate from your collarbones.

"They're safe... for now. But if you interfere with my plans, that could change very quickly.”

Your eyes narrowed. "You and I both know that you need Rose to be alive.”

"Perhaps I do. But her brother isn't necessary in the grand scheme.”

You swallowed hard, immobilized, watching as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. All the alarm bells in your head rang out as he pulled out a knife, its length and sharpness enough to make your heart stop.

“Rremember this: you're in my world now. Play by my rules, or don't play at all.”

You turned your face to the side, as far as his grip would allow. "I hate to rain on your parade, asshole, but this world will never belong to you. You’re a Nightmare, you should only ever exist in our dreams.”

His grip tightened even more, his smile fading as your sentence evidently struck a nerve. "Bold words for someone so helpless," he hissed, his voice laced with menace.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you locked eyes with him. That is, assuming he actually had them, considering he was donning those thick glasses even indoors. "And yet, here I am, standing up to you.”

"Who’s playing a dangerous game now?" he rectified, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

"Better to play than to cower in fear," you rebutted, feeling the pendant's energy coursing through you.

His expression became solemn, but the threatening grin soon returned. You felt the chill of the knife grazing your cheek, its tip lightly pricking the skin just beneath your left eye.

“Oh, it would be such a pleasure to collect these beautiful eyes of yours. To have a taste of your humanity, of all the little secrets they contain.”

You were filled with terror, paralyzed with fear for your life. Yet once again, you couldn't hold your tongue. “Then I'm sure you're in for a severe case of indigestion.”

You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, attempting to extricate yourself from the makeshift cage he had formed with his body. He was as sturdy and strong as the wall pressing into your back, and as you continued to struggle, the Moonstone's glow intensified. The Corinthian didn't move, but you could see his skin suddenly darkening, with markings akin to decaying veins appearing on his hand and extending to his neck.

He did his best to resist, but with Morpheus' power emanating from the Dreamstone, the Corinthian had no choice but to release you, retreating a significant step back, panting, as he rapidly returned to his normal hue.

Oh, the sense of gratification was tremendous. The victorious smile you bestowed upon him was beyond description.

The annoyance was visible on his face, but it didn't last. Shortly after, he put the knife away, smiling at you with a mysterious air. "Yeah, such a great pleasure.”

That was a promise, a pledge for something he was eager to resume at a later date.

He was anticipating the defeat of Morpheus, the total eradication of his essence. Not even the smallest trace of him in your pendant was meant to be spared.

The light from the Moonstone began to dim, and the crystal reverted to its original white color and natural shimmer.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a crowd waiting for my speech.”

You gritted your teeth. "Savor it while it lasts.”

Your retort only amplified his amusement, and as he walked off, you knew that was far from over.

What would have transpired had you not had the Dreamstone with you? Would he have gouged your eyes out, as he had implied? Upon reflection, you recalled reading in the news about a specific killer who liked extracting the eyes of their victims. You never really enjoyed dwelling on such articles for too long, as you didn't want to saturate your mind with horrifying images and spark paranoia every time you left your house.

But now, speculation was inevitable as to whether he was the one perpetrating those atrocious deeds. Given the duration he had spent in your world, it was a distinct possibility.

At least for the moment, you were granted a temporary respite, coupled with a rekindled determination to locate Rose, Jed, and also Gilbert. Pursuing him would be futile, as you alone would not be able to obtain anything useful from him or the psychopaths downstairs.

With any luck, the Corinthian's reign of terror would soon come to an end. There was no need for you to persistently challenge your security measures and gamble with your well-being.

You let out a sigh and instinctively touched your face to check for any visible damage, While there was none, the throbbing in your jaw was a stark reminder of the Nightmare's force.

Before you could pry yourself from the wall, a thunderous voice echoed in the corridor. It was bleak, gloomy, and positively disconcerting. The instant it addressed you, you knew you were in for a stern reprimend.

"Y/N.”

You saw the Endless standing a few steps away, clad in his usual modern, black, short coat - his preferred attire for the Waking World. His eyes were deep, as sharp as the Corinthian's dagger. He was clearly angry, unmistakably so, with his irritation perceivable in the air.

But in that instance, you dared say it was entirely warranted, seeing as you had indeed gone and done it.

#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic

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