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saraicus · 5 months ago
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Pastries, With Love | Morpheus x F! Reader
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Warning: Pregnancy mention 
Requested by: None
Notes: Sorry for the long hiatus. This was a cut scene from the “So, Mote It Be” series that I recently found. You don’t have to read the series to understand this part! 
If you'd like to be a part of “The Sandman” tag list, just ask me. Requests are Closed.
Word count: 1.8K
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You could see the familiar pathway to the doors until your nose picked up something. Sweet berries with sweet bread filled your nose, and you looked to your right to see a bakery. A baker had placed a dozen blueberry muffins inside the display case; you quickly let go of Morpheus’ hand and rushed inside the bakery. Morpheus called your name, but you ignored it and entered the bakery. The store smelled of sweet, ripe berries and baked goods, with a faint smell of chocolate and coffee. The frontman smiled at you and asked, “Hello, what can I get for you?” Your mouth began to drool as you looked around the bakery to take everything in. There were muffins, bagels, loaves of fresh bread, cinnamon rolls, pies of every fruit, and cakes filing every display case. You looked around and asked, “Can I have half a dozen blueberry muffins, a slice of blueberry pie, two cinnamon rolls, and a cup of coffee?” The man’s eyes widened, and he whispered okay before getting a box to fill with what you requested.
The doorbell rang when Morpheus came inside; he walked next to you and said, “Don’t run away like that again; you scared me.” You smiled sheepishly and giggled at his face; he sighed and looked at the baked goods. “What did you order?” he asked while walking around the bakery. “An order of half a dozen blueberry muffins, a slice of blueberry pie, two cinnamon rolls, and a warm cup of coffee for the lady,” announced the man as he set it down by the table, “That should be 20 silvers.” Morpheus’ eyes widened, and he looked at you; you didn’t look at him and smiled at the man. Morpheus sighed and pulled out his pouch to give the man the money; the man smiled as Morpheus grabbed the two boxes, and you grabbed the coffee. You gave the man an energized wave goodbye and smiled while sipping your coffee.
“Are you sure you’re going to eat this all?” Morpheus asked while walking back to the doors, “Isn’t this unhealthy for the child?” You looked at him with your cold eyes and narrowed them. Sipping the coffee, you shook your head; no, he sighed and opened the doors for you. Morpheus walked to the kitchen with you trailing behind and placed them on the kitchen island. You heard the familiar wings flapping and saw Matthew land on the island. “Oh, I thought I smelled something,” he said while swaying his tail, “What did you get?” Morpheus opened the boxes to show off the baked goods you got, and Matthew’s beak dropped. You took the blueberry muffins out of the box and the blueberry pie slice while Morpheus took out the cinnamon rolls.
You grabbed a muffin and slid it in Matthew’s direction; before he took a bite, you said, “Choke on it, and I won’t save you.” Matthew nodded and slowly ate the muffin while you took a bite out of the blueberry pie. Your eyes closed, and you smiled as the blueberry pie melted on your tongue; you could tell you would throw up afterward from the excess baked goods, but it was worth it. Morpheus decided to take a small bite out of a blueberry muffin and shrugged. Your eyes shifted to him, and you asked, “What? It’s good.”  
“An Endless doesn’t need to eat. It’s a good muffin, I think.” Morpheus replied while placing the muffin back in the box. You rolled your eyes, ate the pie slice, and then ate two muffins while sipping your coffee. Matthew slowly pecked on his muffin and looked up to see your eyes glaring at him. After finishing the muffins, you were about to reach for a cinnamon roll until Morpheus pushed them away. “(Y/N), you should eat your vegetables,” Morpheus said with a sigh. “How about you mind your business?” you said in a sassy tone, “I’m pregnant, and this baby wants a cinnamon roll.” Matthew laughed and almost choked on his muffin until he spat it out. Morpheus gave him a side-eye, which made Matthew stop laughing. “I want to make sure the baby is healthy,” he explained, “I don’t want anything happening to the baby.”
You looked at him and patted his cheek while slowly reaching for the roll. Morpheus’ eyes narrowed when he saw you take a bite of the roll in front of him. “I’ve been eating healthy for the past couple of months. The only baked goods I’ve eaten were blueberry muffins. I wanted more than that,” you said, “Besides, a pregnant woman should always get her cravings.” 
Morpheus huffed and said, “Make sure to eat slowly, then. I will be in the library with Lucienne if you need anything.” You nodded and began to eat the second cinnamon roll while Matthew was still on his first muffin. It took you two hours to finish the baked goods with Matthew; he was lying on his back with his wings spread out. You were sitting in a chair while rubbing your stomach. ‘Damn it, Morpheus was right.’ You thought to yourself. You scold yourself for eating all the baked goods, but it was worth it because you could feel your baby kicking. “Looks like the baby is happy,” you gushed, with Matthew groaning in response. You hear footsteps coming into the kitchen and see Morpheus enter it. He looked around, and his face cringed when he saw Matthew lying down. “Matthew,” asked Morpheus, “How do you feel?”
“I feel great.” Matthew managed to groan. Morpheus hummed and looked at you; he saw you were drinking milk and rubbing your stomach. “How do you feel?” He asked while kneeling in front of you; he placed his hand on top of your stomach and then gave it a soft kiss. “I feel fine; the baby kicked earlier. I assume they liked the baked goods,” you said while patting your stomach. Morpheus hummed and moved his hand around your stomach, hoping to feel the baby kick. After a few minutes, Morpheus placed his hand on the left side of your stomach and gasped. Morpheus looked up at you and said, “They kicked.” You nodded and said, “I felt it, Morpheus.” Morpheus softly smiled and helped you get up from the chair; he rubbed your lower back and led you back to his chambers. You looked behind you to see Matthew still hadn’t moved, but you could hear faint snoring. You were tired when you reached the chamber, so Morpheus took you to bed and removed your lace shawl to place it on the nightstand. You went under the covers and asked him to lay next to you. Morpheus climbed on the bed, and you laid your head against his chest. Morpheus looked at you with pure love. That was the best way to describe it. “Thank you for helping me find my real self,” Morpheus whispered in your ear.
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lichanicksstuff · 2 months ago
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Professor Gadling always knows which student wrote their paper and which one used chat GPT. Nobody knows how he does it. No paraphrasing program can dupe him. He can always tell. Every one of his colleagues is amazed by this skill, they always ask for his help judging if the essay was written by an AI or a person. And he does that with a wide smile on his face.
It's really easy. All it takes is to give his old friend a good cup of tea and a red pen to mark the ones that were not written by a human hand. "The imitations don't have souls," his friend says. And this is what he tells his students. They never understand and Hob finds it very funny.
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caprenoctem · 7 months ago
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Dream a little dream...
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writing-for-life · 8 months ago
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The Truth of Mankind…
…Is Also Dream’s
These quotes are from episode 5 (24/7):
“Garry dreams of proving his father he was wrong about him.”
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“Kate dreams of running away where no one will find her.”
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[But you do, and we see your star in so many panels of The Wake 🥺]
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“Bette dreams of creating something that matters to people.”
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You are the magician who became the man, Morpheus. And you are the king who left his kingdom, but not without making sure everyone else would be okay first--perhaps that is a different definition of a graceful ending, but it is graceful nonetheless.
You’re so painfully human, and yet, you are also not 😭
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wolf-and-raven-dreaming · 3 months ago
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Want some angst?
Have some with this piece I made WAAAAAAAAYYYYY back when The Sandman released on Netflix.
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revasserium · 4 months ago
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hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3
reqs are open!
the edge of falling
opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot
summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."
a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u
prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak
Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.
But we will live forever…
So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.
There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.
You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.
And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.
As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.
Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.
The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.
act i: yet another sad, desperate soul
Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.
“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”
This, then, is the first lie he tells you.
“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.
“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.
He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.
“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.
Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.
You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.
“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.
Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”
You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.
“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.
“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”
“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.
You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.
“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.
You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.
Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.
A beat of silence, and then —
“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.
Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.
“You can say that again.”
“What happened?” Robin asks.
Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.
“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.
“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”
And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.
Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”
“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.
“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”
You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.
Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.
You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.
“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”
Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.
He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.
“Sure.”
He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.
He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.
He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.
“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”
Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.
You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.
He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.
“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.
You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”
“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”
You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.
You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.
“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”
“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.
Chopper and Robin both frown.
“What do you mean?” Robin asks.
“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”
“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.
Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.
“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”
“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”
“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”
Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.
“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”
Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.
“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”
Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.
“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.
You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.
“Yeah… guess I did.”
“I wasn’t lying.”
He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.
You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”
“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”
You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”
There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.
The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).
No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.
No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.
act ii: everything and nothing
A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.
You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.
“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”
“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”
“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”
You clear your throat.
“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”
“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”
“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”
Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.
“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.
“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.
“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.
“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.
It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.
He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.
“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.
Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.
“Oi. Looks like trouble.”
Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.
“Marines! Marines!”
There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.
“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.
“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.
Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.
“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.
“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.
“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.
“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.
“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.
A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”
Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.
“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.
Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.
“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.
“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.
You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.
“There. All done.”
You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.
“Turn around.”
His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.
A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.
“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.
“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.
“Right.”
He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.
After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.
“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”
“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.
“No?”
You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”
Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.
“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.
“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.
“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”
His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.
You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.
“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”
Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”
“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”
interlude: truth or dare
It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.
“’M not even a lil drunk —”
“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.
“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.
“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.
Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.
“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.
“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.
“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.
“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.
Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”
“I’m asking for a clarification.”
Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”
You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.
“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.
“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.
“Not yet but —”
“Why?”
“Why… what?”
“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”
You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.
“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”
Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.
“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”
“Hey.”
A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.
“Breathe. You’re okay.”
You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.
You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.
“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.
It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.
And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.
“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.
“Dare.”
You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.
The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.
“Tell me a secret.”
“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.
“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”
“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”
You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.
“Quit stalling!”
“Think I wanna kiss you.”
A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —
“Dare.”
“Close your eyes.”
Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.
You close your eyes.
For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.
All there was, and ever will be.
There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.
There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.
But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.
Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.
When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.
There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.
“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.
Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.
“Dare.”
It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.
“Kiss me again.”
act iii: fool’s gold
It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.
“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.
“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.
“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”
Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”
“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.
“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”
You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”
Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.
It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.
“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.
Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.
You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.
“Oh nothing,” you say.
“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.
“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.
Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.
“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”
And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.
You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.
“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.
The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.
“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.
“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.
“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.
“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”
A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.
Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.
“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.
“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.
Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”
Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.
“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.
“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.
Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.
“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.
“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.
By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.
It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.
Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.
“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.
You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.
But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.
“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”
You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.
“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.
You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.
Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.
“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.
Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.
“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”
“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.
Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.
“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”
The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.
“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”
“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.
“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”
You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.
“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”
“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.
Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.
“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”
You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.
“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.
“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.
“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”
You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*
“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”
“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.
“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”
“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”
“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.
Morning. Has it really been that long?
Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.
“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.
“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.
“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”
“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”
“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.
“I tried!”
“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.
“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.
“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”
You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.
“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.
“Hey — do you trust me?”
You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.
And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —
Do you trust me?
You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —
Yes.
You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.
“Jump!”
You close your eyes, and jump.
-----
footnotes/appendix
uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think
the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~
in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives
the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*
did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u
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stopper-my-heart · 5 months ago
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This was going to be very short and cute but there was just too much cuteness so now it's going to be longer and cute. In this gif we have:
The tail end of Nick pushing Charlie off of him (which it took him longer to do than was strictly necessary).
Nick, in no hurry to get up, with his hands expecting and ready for more roughhousing (and his face showing happiness at the prospect).
Charlie noticing something and Nick - instead of doing the typical person response of looking towards whatever has caught his attention - just continuing to look at Charlie for a while.
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densewentz · 1 year ago
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My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing You cut me open and I Keep bleeding love
Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis is a Dreamling song fight me about it. Day 14 (candygore, kinda) and Day 15 (Song Lyrics)
HQ Jpeg under cut bc no matter what I did this gif came out crunchy
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idiot-is-yapping · 7 months ago
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the-cloudy-dreamer · 1 year ago
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"You know me. We've met before. I have many names. I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares: I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless"
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( can you tell I ran out of clever captions? anyway I think this concludes my nightmare dream era for now! this was my own fun art exercise and I'm happy with the results! if you missed the other two illustrations here's the first one and here's the other one! )
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stranger-awakening · 9 months ago
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One Piece Episode 102 / Episode 377
"I might not have the same bounty on my head as Luffy at the moment, but I swear to you that I'm destined to become the greatest swordsman the world has ever known. Surely that must be worth something."
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saraicus · 2 years ago
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Rose Red | Morpheus x F! Reader
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Warning: None 
Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day! If you don’t have a valentine, I’ll be yours ❤️ Set in the same universe as, “Red Bow” but you can read it as a standalone!  Inspired by the song, “Rose Red” by Emilie Autumn. 
If you'd like to be a part of “The Sandman” tag list, just ask me! Requests are open.
Word count: 2.6k
Masterlist
After what happened on Christmas, you made it your mission to teach Morpheus human customs. Since Morpheus was aware of your fascination with human customs from the waking realm, he tried his best to keep up with your teachings. Morpheus felt like he was making great progress with learning human culture, and it was bringing the both of you closer. Unfortunately, you stopped teaching him human customs, after he lit a firework inside the kingdom and nearly blew Matthew into pieces for New Year’s Day. Ever since that day, you became distant from him, and when he would search for you, you would immediately walk away, stating you had a job to attend to. Due to your cold shoulder, Morpheus would spend time in the throne room, reflecting on himself and your time spent with him. “Boss, I think you can still make it up to her,” Matthew said while standing in front of Morpheus in the throne room. Morpheus was in the throne room, sitting on the stairs and sulking as usual. Matthew was knowledgeable of human culture and knew Valentine’s Day was today. He thought maybe Morpheus could give you chocolates and flowers for forgiveness and perhaps a date. Morpheus just side-eyed Matthew and continued to sigh. “Matthew, I nearly slaughtered you. I doubt I could make it up,” Morpheus said in a flat tone.
“Well, I already died once,” Matthew replied while tilting his head and flapping his wings, “What happens if I die twice? Will I continue to return as a crow or will I become a ghost?” Morpheus glanced at Matthew, who began to mutter to himself about the possibility of him becoming a ghost after he dies again while walking back and forth. Shaking his head, Morpheus stood up and began to walk up the stairs to look outside the window. The sunlight shone against his pale skin as he looked through to continue to think. Matthew flew to stand next to Morpheus and cawed. “I’m being serious, there’s a holiday today called Valentine’s Day.” Matthew explained, looking at Morpheus, “It’s a holiday where lovers spend the day together, you can give chocolates and flowers. It’s a romantic holiday!” Morpheus kneeled, facing Matthew, and raised his eyebrow. “Valentine’s Day? What does this Valentine's mean?” Morpheus asked. Matthew ruffled his feathers and began to think, trying to remember what you told him a couple of days ago. “Oh, it’s a holiday named after Saint Valentine who represents love.” Matthew answered and cawed, “I know you love her, boss.” Morpheus twitched a faint smile on his lips and shook his head.
“I love her very much, yet I ruined it.” Morpheus said in a sad tone, “Do you think she would accept my chocolates and flowers?” Matthew stared at him and nodded his head. “Of course! Everyone loves chocolates and I know just the flower that will make her swoon.” Matthew assured, he wagged his tail and began to fly out of the room, cawing for Morpheus to follow him. Morpheus immediately followed Matthew, and together they went out to the gardens. Matthew flew around the garden looking for roses while Morpheus walked around, slowly peeking his head around the bushes to see if you were around. To no avail, you weren’t in the gardens. Truly living up to your purpose as the dream that represents generosity, you would normally help Mervyn with the garden, but unfortunately not today. Morpheus sighed again in defeat until Matthew cawed on the other side of the garden. He quickly walked over to the other side of the garden to see Matthew standing next to a rose bush. “A rose bush?” Morpheus questioned while touching the rose petals, “Why a rose bush?” Matthew flew to land on the bird bath fountain next to the rose bushes and explained, “Red roses represent love, and I know (Y/N) loves red roses. I hear her sing the song, Rose Red all the time when working.” Morpheus looked to his right to see Mervyn holding a pair of flower shears, walking over to them. Mervyn smiles at Morpheus and then looks at the rose bushes. “Pick any of the roses,” Mervyn said while pushing some roses from the bush, “I’ll clip them.” Morpheus said a small thank you and began to look around the rose bushes to find the perfect bouquet for you. His hand would move the roses around, and point at the deep red roses for Mervyn to clip. After picking some of the roses out, Morpheus saw his hand was filled with small cuts, but ignored it. Mervyn walked away with the roses and said, “I’ll leave them in your chambers after I finish preparing them.”
Matthew cawed and said, “Our plan is almost complete, boss. We just need to get chocolates and convince her to meet us at Fiddler’s Green!” Morpheus and Matthew walked out of the garden to walk to the kingdom’s plaza. The plaza was filled with citizens walking around to finish their errands, talking, and negotiating prices. Some people were around the fountain playing live music with a couple of them dancing in a circle. Morpheus looked around to see if you were nearby, and with sheer luck you were. His eyes widened and his lips parted as he saw you dancing on top of the fountain rims singing to the song, Matthew mentioned earlier. You were beaming as if the sun was attached to you, and sang, “ Rose, rose red. Will I ever see thee wed? I will marry at thy will, sire. At thy will!” The citizens playing the instruments complimented your voice, as the others were dancing. Your hips were swaying to the live music and your eyes were closed to consume everything. “Tell me no more stories, and I'll tell you no lies.” You sang clearly and twirled around the fountain, “No one wants to hurt me, but everybody tries. And if you think that I've been waiting for my planets to align. It's time you go on!” Morpheus’ heart fell to the floor when he heard you sing the lyrics; it was as if the song was for him. A song for him to leave you alone, and he felt defeated. Matthew noticed Morpheus’ change of face and said, “It’s just a song she likes. She heard it when she was working on an artist’s dream. Come on boss, the store is near here.” Morpheus took one last look at you and walked away.
As the song was coming to a finish, you opened your eyes to see Morpheus walking by you. It took every ounce of your will to not rush to him and hug him, but you brushed it off to continue singing. But you knew you had to give him space, for your own sake. Ever since the incident on New Year’s Day, you became more work-focused because you realized it was a mistake on your part for Matthew’s near-death experience, and you should stop messing around; rather, focus on your main purpose. The work was supposed to keep your mind busy, but you would always find yourself thinking about Morpheus. Nevertheless, you never reconciled with him, although you planned to, you just never knew when. When the song finished, everyone clapped for your performance, and you got down from the fountain, crouching to grab your basket. You waved bye at everyone, and another person came up to start performing as well. It was a small practice you made in the dreaming realm, where the plaza should be filled with live music and performances to make the people feel more welcomed and happier. You decided to go to Fiddler’s Green for the day since it was Valentine’s Day in the human world, and eat a small meal next to the fish. Perhaps afterward, you would gather the courage to talk to Morpheus about how you feel. Regardless, you were going to spend the holiday alone; at least the fish down the river would keep you company.
Walking down the pathway to Fiddler’s Green, you opened your basket to make sure you had everything inside. Inside your basket, you had a red velvet brownie in the shape of a heart, a white wine bottle from the waking realm, and strawberries covered in chocolate. You made the desserts by copying them down from a baker’s cookbook when you went to the waking realm the last time. It took you two tries to get everything right, and you were happy you finally got to eat them. As you got near Fiddler’s Green, you didn’t notice you were being watched. In fact, by the time you sat near the river and began to pull out your dessert, Morpheus and Matthew were hiding behind a bush looking at you. “So, uh. Boss?” questioned Matthew, “I don’t know how it works in the dreaming realm, but in the human world, stalking is a crime.” Morpheus looked at Matthew and responded, “I don’t think I dare to walk up to her.” Matthew cawed and ruffled his feathers; he had to get Morpheus to walk up to you, but he didn’t know how. So, instead, he continued to examine you, eating strawberries while staring at the river. Matthew would look at Morpheus and see how in awe Morpheus’ face was. He shook his head and sighed, “Boss, you gotta walk up to her. Go! Or else, I’m telling her.” Morpheus stopped looking at you and looked at Matthew, “You wouldn’t dare.” Matthew cawed and knew what to do now. “Oh yes, I do.”
Matthew cawed and began to fly towards you, screaming your name. Morpheus nearly dropped the bouquet and chocolates when Matthew began to scream your name. “Oh, (Y/N)!” screamed Matthew while flying to you, “(Y/N), the boss wants to talk to you!” You looked up to see Matthew land on top of your shoulder. “What does Lord Morpheus want?” You asked while taking another bite of the strawberry. Matthew used his wing to point at Morpheus, who was awkwardly walking over. You could see he was hiding something behind his back, and his eyes were looking at the floor. Raising your eyebrow, you asked, “Lord Morpheus, what do you have behind your back?” Morpheus’ face turned a slight pink and he revealed what was behind his back. A bouquet of the reddest roses you ever saw in your life, with a box that you assumed had chocolates. Morpheus cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to make a disaster on New Year’s Day. And…Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“That better not be a pity bouquet. Pity chocolate I’ll take, but that’s it.” You replied while standing up to inspect the chocolate box. Morpheus was taken aback as his eyebrows were raised and his lips turned into a frown. “I picked the roses. Matthew told me you love roses,” Morpheus whispered while looking at the bouquet. You began to laugh and shake your head. “Sorry, Morpheus. It was a cruel joke. I’ll take the roses as well. They’re so beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” Morpheus stated while looking at you with the softest eyes you ever saw. Your face began to feel hot, and you giggled at the compliment. Meanwhile, Matthew’s beak fell open and he cawed. You motioned Morpheus to sit down next to you and you opened your basket again. Matthew decided to sit on your shoulder and coo as you began to take out your brownies. Morpheus smiled at the sight of the brownies when you gave them to him. Matthew cawed and began to peck at the brownie from your hand. In silence, you ate the brownies together, and you also shared your strawberries with them. Morpheus would glance at you whenever you weren’t looking at him, and he would be amazed. Then, you decided to take out the white wine to drink; however, when you pour the wine into a cup, Morpheus asked, “Why does that look like a love potion?” Matthew gasped and said, “Are you going to bewitch him?” You began to laugh to the point, you nearly dropped the cup. Wiping the tears away from your face, you said, “No, it’s white wine. I assume you’re used to red wine?”
“I don’t drink,” Morpheus stated while inspecting the wine bottle, “Although, it smells lovely.” You gave him the cup and motioned him to take a sip. Since you only brought one cup, you shared the wine with Morpheus. Meanwhile, Matthew was dying of thirst, but he didn’t want to ruin the romantic moment you two were having together. Instead, he got off your shoulder and began to lay on a river rock staring at the fish. Occasionally, he would turn around and see the two of you talking and laughing. Matthew’s tail swayed in excitement and he hoped Morpheus would finally tell you how he feels. It was hard for him to keep quiet, but he tried his best either way. 
“Morpheus,” You started to say, after taking a sip from the wine glass, “I’m sorry for being cold towards you and Matthew. It’s just that, after the incident, I freaked out. I wanted to forget about everything and focus on my work. But it was so hard. When I wanted to talk to you, my body would freeze and I couldn’t find the courage to talk to you. It’s also hard because all I could think about is…you.” You looked at Morpheus, who was staring at you and nodded in agreement. “I understand, (Y/N),” Morpheus admitted while slowly getting closer to you, “However, it’s best to reflect on the past, than dwell on it. At least, Matthew is still alive, and we’re talking. I also think about you…from time to time.” You smiled at him, and he returned the smile. Slowly, you held out your hand, and Morpheus held it. As you locked your hands together, he cleared his throat and whispered, “Rose, rose, rose red. I love you.” You smiled at him and began to laugh at his words. Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows until you explained, “That’s adorable. I guess Matthew told you my favorite song?” Morpheus nodded his head.
You leaned towards him, and Morpheus did the same. Tilting your head to the side, your lips brushed against each other. “Rose, rose, rose red. I love you too.” You whispered before closing the gap. The kiss was sensual, coming off slow and tender before transforming into a deeper kiss to the point your teeth clashed together. However, you broke the kiss after hearing Matthew caw and standing in front of you two. The two of you began to laugh when Matthew gagged at the sight of you two kissing. “Please, get a room next time.” Matthew said while covering his eyes with his wing, “My poor eyes…” You patted his head and apologized. After giving him a piece of strawberry, his tail swayed and his feathers ruffled in happiness. Morpheus stood up and let out his hand. “Come On, Valentine’s Day still isn’t over.” Morpheus said as he helped you up, “Matthew, you can clean up this mess, (Y/N) and I have some unfinished business to take care of.” You began to play with your hair when Morpheus winked at you before Matthew could say anything. Morpheus grabbed your hand to lead you back to the kingdom. Matthew was left alone, and he sighed at the sight of the mess.
“Well, happy Valentine’s Day to me too.” Matthew sighed before pecking at the leftover strawberries.
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lichanicksstuff · 1 month ago
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"I don't remember my mother's face." Hob says, one day, while him and Dream were having their morning coffee. Dream looks at his friend. The tone of Hob's voice doesn't match the words he just said. They were talking about family and suddenly... He says this. And it seems like he doesn't even care, like it's just another thing he said.
It's not like Dream knows what it's like. He may not relate but he understands. In his kingdom there are many nightmares whose task, whose goal, is this very thing. Forgetting the most beloved face. Forgetting the voice that sang lullabies to you when you could still fit in her arms... Dream can't relate but he understands and he rots.
He rots because he remembers the face of every person that has ever lived. And Hob looks just like his mother.
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monostardust · 1 month ago
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*sighs* Silco, Silco he's, he was a good father to Jinx yeah I mean sure not perfect but he did everything he could to raise and stabilize Jinx's fragile and chaotic mental stability the way he knew how. Silco sees himself in Jinx but he knows she's far more troubled than him. He tries to help her overcome her trauma the only way he knows how by telling her how he overcame his. He's not perfect he's most definitely not the ideal father but for a villain I gotta give credit where it's due. Unlike other villains he actually loved and cared for Jinx. She's his baby, the only one he has a soft spot for. He really loved that little girl, his daughter, the one he trusted the most, his only successor. I also think he was similar to Jinx with how he despised Vi like how Jinx despised Caitlyn. Silco hated Vi thinking she's just like Vander, a traitor, someone who abandoned Jinx. I guess that's why he wanted her dead. In his mind he really thinks Vi is nothing more than that, that she's just someone who'll continue to hurt his kid and that's why she gotta go.
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fishfingersandscarves · 2 years ago
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soap bubbles
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geekylled · 7 months ago
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the sandman enters… tried a new silly cool style including a mishmash of my tried-and-true digital inking style with a heaving helping of the selection tool and spray paint brushes on procreate. dream ily I’m your number one fan
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