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hangmans-girl · 2 years

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We're Even Now, Are We? (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Kazansky!Reader

Summary: After years of being in competition with each other, both of you realize that there was more to your tension than what meets the eye.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, Swearing, poorly-used naval aviation words and phrases, changed some details about the story and i'm screaming praying and hoping that it doesn't ruin the story, this was dragged on for so long and idk if this makes sense anymore i'm just gonna publish it for the sake of my mental health.

Words: 5,539

Author's note: This is the first work that I have that I've decided to post. Please bear with the plot and grammatical mistakes. I whipped this up from my brain at the last minute before deciding to write it down. English isn't my first language and I had no one to proofread this for me so, yeah. Hope you enjoy it!

Callsign: Knockout

"What do we have here," Hangman greets Phoenix as she walks toward the pool alley, behind her were two unfamiliar men. "And here I thought we were special, Coyote, turns out the invite went to everyone."

Phoenix replied with a scoff as she turned her head to the side. "Fellas, this here's Bagman."

"Hangman."He quickly corrected as he leaned on the pool table.

"Fanboy and Payback, newest recruits, "Phoenix added. Both men nodded to Coyote and Hangman. Phoenix turns to look at the man who's eating peanuts on the bench beside the pool table.

The man introduced himself as Bob, who turned out to be Phoenix's new backseater. Phoenix then ran to greet Rooster, who came in too late when everyone was doing introductions. Unlike everyone, he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a white tanktop, and casual jeans.

After Hangman and Rooster's passive-aggressive conversation, Phoenix suddenly remembered something. "Is this all of us? Everyone here is the best there is, why isn't Kazansky here with us?"

Hangman grinned at the question. "Maybe she isn't as good as you think she is, Phoenix. The invitation can't go to just anyone, you know."

Phoenix scoffed at his remark. "Kazansky graduated at the top of the class with you and she's the only TOP GUN graduate of our generation with 3 confirmed air combat kills. If those aren't good, then I don't know what is."

"Missed me that much, Trace?" All heads turned towards the doorway. Phoenix came running towards you with a huge smile. You welcomed her with open arms as she hugged you tight.

"Damn it, Kazansky. I knew you'd make it." She broke the hug and wrapped her arms around your waist. You turned your eyes towards Rooster who stood to greet you as well.

"Bradshaw, glad to see you." You shook his hand as he shook yours, returning an acknowledging smile at you.

You then turned to Fanboy, Bob, and Payback to greet them. As you turned around, you've seen a fair share of new faces and a bunch of familiar ones, too. But your eyes never failed to notice the cocky blonde man leaning by the pool table, smirking in your direction.

"Kazansky, as I live and breathe." Hangman greeted. You smirked at his snarky tone. You walked closer to the table, grabbing a lone cue stick at the side as you sought a random ball at the pool table.

"Hangman. I honestly thought I'd seen the last of you, but here we are."

Hangman wore a smug grin on his face. "Seems like destiny couldn't just pull us apart, honey." You chuckled at his remark, pulling an eight-point score on the game as you bent up to wait for his turn to play.

"I know, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? I mean, you'll have to keep seeing me if you want to get ahead of me." You gave him a sweet smile, an annoying one at that on his part. He was still grinning at you, but he slightly squinted at the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"That's your excuse for telling me that you want me around you, Kazansky? That is very unlike you." Hangman's smirk got wider as he tilted his head to look into your eyes. Everyone around you was just staring at the both of you, enjoying the little show you and Hangman were putting on.

This was like a routine since you and Jake made it in highschool. You fought a lot about who was better than the other and always ended up tying at everything you both did.

"Oh, I'd only want top pilots around and you aren't on that list," You trailed, walking closer to him as you rubbed some chalk at the tip of your cue stick.

"But you're almost there, Bagman. 2 more confirmed kills and maybe you'll catch up." You added, placing your cue stick at the side as you tapped his chest with your palms, attempting to straighten the crumpled edges of his khaki service uniform.

He looked down at you, still with a grin, before you turned your back from him and made your way to the bar. You grabbed a lone bottle of cold beer as you made your way to a familiar man. "Long time no see, Uncle Mav," You greeted as you hopped on to sit on the chair beside him.

"Y/N? Look at you, you're all grown up now!" Maverick beamed at you as he took a minute to take your presence all in.

Maverick used to babysit you back when you were still a child. From what you have heard, he and your Dad shared a special bond because of a mission that they did 30 years ago. For that reason, Maverick also considered you as his own and taught you everything you had to know about everything -- including aviation.

"So, 3 confirmed kills within your stay at TOP GUN. Congratulations, kid. I'm proud of you." He tapped your shoulder as he smiled at you.

"Thanks," You replied. "What brings you here at North Island?"

"Well, you know," He shrugged. You already knew the answer to that.

"Yeah, you pissed off yet another Admiral. What's the punishment this time?"

"I don't know yet, I think I'll know by tomorrow. What about you? I thought you were stationed in Iran?"

"I got a call from TOP GUN. They want me to do a mission with the others," You pointed at the pool alley. Maverick nodded in response. You got off the chair and tapped his back.

"I heard you're paying for a round? Thanks, Uncle Mav. See you around." You headed to the exit as you hurriedly got on your motorbike, heading towards your parents' house.

******

"Took you long enough to visit me," Your Dad typed. You gave him an apologetic smile before giving him a hug. You quickly pulled a chair as you sat in front of him.

"I got a call from TOP GUN to do a mission, Dad."

He nodded before proceeding to type again. "If it weren't for the mission, would you have come?"

You reached for his hand and gave him a smile. "If you told me to go home, I would have flown right away to see you, Dad." Your brows furrowed. "Dad, don't tell me you were the one who called me."

He immediately shook his head as he turned to type. "The navy sees to it that they only call the best. It's a good thing that you are. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to see you."

Your eyes watered at the reply but you tried your best not to show it."Thanks, Dad. I'll come by to see you again soon. I only have a few more minutes 'till curfew."

He typed again. "You got an Admiral for a Dad and yet you're scared of breaking the curfew?"

You chuckled lightly at his response. "Oh, Dad." You then gave him a tight hug. He nodded in acknowledgment before you left.

******

After Rear Admiral Bates introduced Maverick, all of you had to do a dogfight exercise. When the first batch was done and was subjected to 200 push-ups, You, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob were next to go up against Maverick. As his mentee when you were still 17 and learning, you were aware of how good Maverick was in his expertise. It made you nervous, but all you had to do was apply what he and your Dad had taught you. After all, you only learned from the best.

Still, even with the applied training that you had, Maverick got the best of all of you. "See you at the base and get ready for your pushups," Maverick says before he navigates away from all of you. Just as when you were about to fly back to the base, you detected a bogey on your radar.

"Phoenix, there's a bogey on my radar. Do you see him?"

"Positive, Knockout. Talk to me, Bob. How close?"

"10 miles and six o'clock low, Phoenix."

"Ignore it, let's return to base immediately--" Your words were cut off by a beep emitting from Phoenix and Bob's radio pulse control, signaling they were put under missile lock.

You saw two more bogeys on your radar. "Shit, bandits. Hangman, cover them!" No response. It took you a minute to realize that he had already left right when Maverick did. Damn him!

"Break right, Phoenix! Avoid them for as long as you can." You said before breaking left to distract the other bogeys. You then successfully chased off one bandit before calling for backup. Good thing Maverick came in time to scare off the rest of the bogeys as he escorted the rest of you back to the base.

As soon as all of you landed, you got off your plane and looked for Hangman. And there he was already on his black shirt, laughing with Coyote as if nothing happened.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" You carelessly threw your helmet to the ground as you walked toward him, fuming in pure anger. You stopped as he stood still, looking down at you with a smug grin as if he didn't just risk two lives to save himself during a close encounter with an enemy aircraft that thankfully didn't result in dogfighting.

"What do you want, sunshine?" He asked, shifting the toothpick on his lips as he placed his hands on both of his pockets. You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. Did he honestly not care about what he did?!

"You left Phoenix and BoB hanging while they were being chased by an enemy aircraft! They could have been bombed up there!" You growled. Hangman was being insufferable right now. Everyone knew how hell-bent he was on being the best of the best to be picked by Maverick as the Team Leader, but he didn't have to go THAT far. Fuck him, he couldn't even help his wingmen when they were in danger!

"I didn't really hear anything, sweets. They could have hollered, but they didn't."He replied with a patronizing smile and a sarcastic voice as though he was talking to a child. .

That was it. You pushed his chest in anger, earning a grip on both of your arms from Phoenix and Bob. "It's fine, (Y/N). It's not like you'll change whatever is going on inside of his damn head."

You sighed in exasperation, shaking the grips off of your arms as you smirked. "You wanna know something, Hangman?" He tilted his head in wonder, taking a step toward you.

"What's that?"

You took a step even closer, feeling his peppermint breath on your lips. "As long as I am here, you will never be the team leader." You replied, mimicking his patronizing smile as you glared at him before you dragged Phoenix and Bob away from the scene.

Hangman clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath to calm himself down. He turned to kick the chair beside him as he watched it move to the other side of the briefing room. Coyote sighed as he shook his head, grabbing the nearest seat in his range.

"Honestly, that was a douchey move you did up there, Jake. She actually has a point more than you care to admit."

Hangman grinned in disbelief as he scoffed. He grabbed his leather jacket from the seat as he headed towards the door. "I don't fucking need that right now, Coyote."

****

Through the years, you learned how to push his buttons. You and Jake knew each other since middle school. He always rivaled you at anything academic. The cycle went on until both of you went to college, flight school, and admission to TOPGUN.

His hatred towards you flared, even more, when he found out that you were the only daughter of the Admiral and head of the US Pacific Fleet. He believed that your admission to TOPGUN was purely based on Admiral Kazansky's influence and position, not because you had earned that spot with nothing but your hard-earned credentials and competency. That's what he made people believe.

That's a factor, though. You were told how much you flew like your father; ice cold, no mistakes. It made people give you the benefit of the doubt.

But you honestly didn't give a shit about what he'd say. You made it a routine not to lose your patience over trivial matters--especially when it came to Hangman's bullshit. You knew how it sent him over the moon when you show a reaction to whatever he says, and your pride cannot afford to give him that kind of satisfaction.

However, your rivalry with Hangman stuck out like a sore thumb every flight practice. He'd chase you like a madman in the wind in an attempt to put you under missile lock to ruin your day until he doesn't since you always outdo him. The other aviators would just shrug when they hear Hangman swear over the radio.

You even earned your callsign, "Knockout" because of him.

"What did you just say?" You turned in his direction, still in disbelief about what you have just heard.

"I said, it's such a shame that your brain is not as big as your ass---" Unable to hold it in, you gave him a powerful right hook on his cheek to knock the stupid grin off of his face, causing him to land unconscious on the ground.

"Fucking asshole." You growled under your breath as you sent him a death glare while he lays flat on the ground. You didn't care about anything you valued at that moment. Assault as a ground for expulsion? humiliation to your father's honorable name? You couldn't care less. All you wanted was to give this bastard a good talking to through your fist.

In the corner stood the Navy Commander who watched the whole thing unfold. "Lieutenant Kazansky and...can someone please carry Lieutenant Seresin into my office, NOW!"

"In this institution, we do not condone violence. I believe your father must have taught you about that already, Lieutenant Kazansky." The Navy Commander said as he leaned on his chair, taking a good look at both of you.

"My father also taught me not to tolerate disrespect, sir. I only did what I thought was best for the situation...Sir." You replied, looking straight into the office's blinds, not meeting the Navy Commander's glare. He sighed as he assessed the situation.

Hangman on the other hand was busy sulking while he held an icepack on the bruise he got a while ago. "Fine. Here's what we'll do," The Navy Commander stood from his seat as he made his way in front of his desk so he could be much closer to the both of you.

He pointed at you. "Your official callsign from now on will be Knockout," He then turned to Hangman. "That will serve as punishment for you, Lieutenant Seresin. You call her callsign, and you'll be reminded of the humiliation caused by the punch she gave you. Do this again, the both of you, and I'll be forced to resort to disciplinary action. Am I understood?" He pointed at both of you.

"Yes, Sir!" You both said in sync.

"Dismissed."

That's when he started to refuse to call you by your callsign.

*****

"Another pint, go easy on the foam."

Penny looks at Hangman with a curious gaze as she nods, grabbing his empty glass to refill it. "That's three in a row. Bad day?"

"I just like drinking. Does that count?"

"You know what, I'm just not gonna ask." Penny shook her head as she placed the refilled pint in front of him before she proceeded to accommodate her customers.

Hangman grabbed his mug and chugged half of its content, sighing loudly before wiping the foam off his lips. He was pissed, alright. After musing for a few hours, he finally admitted to himself that you actually had a point; he never should have done that.

He hated that you were right. You were always there to rub it in his face whenever you had a chance. Hangman frowned at the thought, grabbing his mug to drink again.

"As long as I am here, you will never be the team leader."

He slammed the empty glass on the counter as he hung his head low in anger. What you said wasn't half as bad as what he would hear from the other aviators. In fact, even if he did hear something, it wouldn't really matter to him since he knew what he was capable of.

But what you said, struck him like lightning. It clung to his brain like a leech, your words on repeat in his head.

The door chime made a sound, snapping Hangman out of his thoughts. He turned his head at the doorway to see you, Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster. At his gaze, only you stood out.

You were in your typical black leather jacket, jeans, and white shoes. Your hair wasn't in a bun like you would always wear it and it hung beautifully on your shoulders and back.

Hangman, for some reason, watched your every move. The way you used your fingers to comb your hair back, the way you laughed at what Rooster said, and most importantly, why the hell were you smiling like that?

Seeming to have heard his own thoughts, Hangman groaned as he shook his head in an attempt to get himself together. At that moment, he figured it was all nonsense and it was just the repressed rage and alcohol talking.

"Put it on my tab, Pen," Hangman announced before hopping off his seat as he headed towards the pool alley.

"Hey, Man. I've been looking all over for you. Let's go play some pool." Coyote tapped his back and handed him his beer and his signature cue stick. Hangman slightly squints at the sight of you as he made his way towards the side of the pool table where you and Rooster were currently standing.

Good God, what now? You thought.

Rooster sighed in apparent displeasure at the sight of him. "Hangman."

Hangman tilted his head in acknowledgment as he smirked. "Rooster."

You rolled your eyes and sighed, turning your attention to Phoenix who was holding a couple of bottled beers. You decided to help her instead of staying in the same presence as Hangman because you might not be able to resist the urge to punch his stupid face.

Hangman gave you a quick glance before turning his eyes back onto Rooster's who was looking back at his eyes suspiciously as if he was checking if he was plotting something bad. "A round?"

Rooster shook his head. "I'll pass. I'm suddenly not in the mood to play anymore."

Hangman shrugged as he grinned. "Always keeping it safe is not a good thing, Bradshaw." Hearing him say this made you roll your eyes again.

"I'll keep that in mind, Seresin. Go play with your balls." Rooster replied as he leaned his cue stick by the table as he headed to the piano.

Phoenix stood up from her seat. "Looks like Rooster's playing." You turned your head towards the stage to see Rooster warming up by the piano. You smiled as you got up from your seat, grabbing Phoenix by the arm to head by the side of the piano.

Rooster was good at performing and it always helped with stress if you sang along while he played. After all, you needed to be entertained, to keep your mind off of things, and forget your unbridled rage toward Hangman.

Bob, Fanboy, and Payback followed the both of you to join the little musical Rooster has set up, too.

As Rooster started performing, people started to cheer and gather around the stage.

Hangman suddenly wanted out of the game, so he made an excuse. "You guys go ahead. I'll be at the counter. I need more drinks." He walked out of the pool alley without waiting for their replies, desperate to see more of the performance up close.

Hangman knew he wasn't supposed to care about this little 'ensemble', but he couldn't help himself. He mindlessly ordered a pint of beer as he never took his eyes off of the stage...and you.

You sang along Rooster as you vibed joyously with the song. The sight of your beautiful smile, which he's never seen before, and your incandescent presence took him a minute or two to realize that he wasn't breathing for a moment.

Hangman's brows furrowed in realization. He can't be. Fuck, this is not happening, he thought. He chugged the rest of the beer on his hand as he ordered one after another, attempting to drown the unsolicited thoughts that he has about you.

As the song came to an end, so did Hangman's little drinking spree. He drank those pints pretty fast, even Penny was surprised at the speed. Good thing he didn't get drunk and risk word-vomiting shit he wouldn't even dare say if he was sober.

Hangman decided to call it a night, leaving the bar without saying goodbye to any of you. All that he wanted at that moment was to go home and think for the rest of the night.

***

It had been almost 3 weeks since the training started. All of you were briefed on the terrain that you were expected to encounter before the mission starts. Although distracted, Hangman was a lot more focused than he had expected. The thought of you in such light was also buried at the back of his mind because of the mission.

After the whole brawl with Rooster and Hangman, you got a call from your mom telling you to come home immediately. You already knew what it was all about. You immediately gave Maverick a heads up before leaving the base. The last time you came to visit him, he was already in a bad state. What could have possibly gone wrong?

"Hang in there, Dad. I'm coming." You whispered as you drove fast to your house.

The moment you got there, your mom came running to you in tears. "He's gone, sweetheart. He's gone." She sobbed in your arms as you tried to process everything she had just said. You shook your head in denial, holding both of your mother's arms as you looked into her eyes.

"No, he isn't, Mom. I-I still have to--I promised him I'd see him soon, he wouldn't just leave like that."Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought your way to your Dad's room.

There he was, laying cold and peaceful on his bed. "Daddy? I've come to see you now." You kneeled at the side of the bed as you held his cold hands in your warm ones.

Seeing your Dad, the best and the ever-strong fighter pilot you have always admired in this state made you sob uncontrollably. He's gone, he's really gone now.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "He told me to tell you that he was proud of you, although he thought you already knew, he still wanted to tell you that before he left." That didn't help your grief as your chest tightened even more and your sobs grew even louder.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep at your Dad's office as you hugged the brown bear you used to play with when you were young that he kept as a decoration on his table next to your picture. You fell asleep wishing that he'd still be there to hug you in times like this.

Everyone was notified of the news. Admiral Kazansky's death shook lots of hearts that he inspired and people who admired him. To say that Maverick was devastated was an understatement. One of the greatest friends that he had was gone and it felt like the loss he felt with Goose all over again. The rest of the aviators were saddened at the news, too.

As soon as the news came out, you were the first person who came into Jake's mind. He and the other aviators helped with the preparations for the burial of Admiral Kazansky as you chose to stay at your house and be within the presence left by your Dad for one last time.

You stood motionless as your tears streamed down your cheeks while the ceremony carried on. Jake, on the other hand, never removed his eyes from you. His eyes softened at the sight of your grieving state. You looked so broken and pained that he felt uneasy as he was used to your ice-cold, sarcastic demeanor.

After the burial, they were tasked to go back to base, but Jake decided to break the rules for once and stay behind. He went to look for you and he found you by your father's grave, kneeling in front of it as you touched the cold gravestone.

You felt a presence behind you as you looked back to see who it was. "What are you doing here? I don't want to deal with you right now, Hangman."

Jake sighed as he bowed his head in response. "I'm not here to make fun of you," He took a step closer, "Your father was a great man, though I didn't know him that much...I'll be here if you need me." He says as he sat on the grass beside you.

Your tears started falling again as you sobbed. You didn't care anymore if he found you weak for that. You wanted to grieve until the pain subsides. "He told me he was proud of me, Jake,"

"But he was so impatient as always that he couldn't even wait for me to come back for him to say it to me personally. I hate him.." You fell to the ground, your hand leaning on his gravestone as you wept uncontrollably.

Jake couldn't remember the last time he saw you in this kind of state. Or you just never have experienced this before. You were always so strong and resilient that Jake once told himself that making you cry would be an achievement. But seeing you like this, a mess from crying for hours, it made him feel like he had lost something, too.

He tapped your back gently to comfort you as you fell into his arms, bawling your eyes out as both of you remained like that for hours.

*****

Weeks have passed since the death of your Dad. The pain was still there, but it was bearable enough for you to get some sleep at night. Sadly, you weren't able to train with the others for the mission since you knew that you were going to be distracted, anyway.

Maverick also told you that it wouldn't be possible for you to be a part of the mission because he wanted to let you grieve and you agreed.

That wasn't a problem on your part since you wanted to take your mind off of things and you still had to think things through, especially the part where Hangman decided to grieve with you on that day.

That day, he wasn't Hangman. It was Jake. The one who made sure that no one made fun of you when your parents failed to attend an event at school, the one who made sure to get you home safe after you punched a bunch of bullies in the schoolyard, the one who comforted you at times when your Dad was away on special missions, and the one you had feelings for before competition got in between your bond.

Despite your rivalry, you and Jake knew each other best. He knew your allergies more than your parents did and you knew what he feared the most in his life that he kept from everyone. While you were each other's enemies, you were also each other's comfort.

You had to admit, you felt better when he comforted you. After that day, you started to see him in a different light, the one where you didn't have the urge to strangle him if you were given a chance to.

Today, Maverick chose the ones he deemed ready for the mission. Phoenix and Bob as Dagger 1, Fanboy and Payback as Dagger 2, and Rooster and Hangman were chosen as Maverick's wingmen. You felt proud of them but at the same time, you felt anxious for them.

Hangman was ecstatic at being chosen as one of Maverick's wingmen, but he also felt like thinking twice before doing the mission for some reason. Ever since that night, you were all he could ever think about. He stared at you from the corner of the briefing room as he was suiting up for the mission, wondering how you were holding up.

He held himself back since he thought that it may remind you of the event that you're trying hard to forget. As soon as he was finished suiting up, he immediately made his way to the tarmac where everybody was busy double-checking their planes.

"Jake," He heard someone call out his name despite the deafening sound of the engine around him. It was you. He stopped in his tracks as he looked back at you, waiting for you to speak.

"Make sure you come back home alive. You and I still have a game to finish," You added as you walked closer to him, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"You can do it." You gave him a warm, genuine smile before exiting the tarmac, leaving Jake with his crazy, beating heart.

As soon as all of them took off, you and the rest of the aviators stood by the radio to listen while they executed the mission. They had two minutes and thirty seconds to fly low through the canyons, beneath hostile surface-to-air missiles, and reach the target. You sat there in worry. Although it would only take a short time, a lot could happen in two minutes.

You felt a pang of relief when you confirmed that they were able to bomb the target. Miracle number one was finally done. All they had to do was get home in one piece---but all hell broke loose when the SAMs and fifth-generation jets launched to intercept the squadron, resulting in a dogfight.

Maverick's plane was shot down and it caused panic among everyone. When the rest of the enemy planes were shot down, the rest returned to base immediately, but Rooster stayed behind and looked for Maverick. Hangman was also nowhere to be found.

After hours of being off-the-radar, Maverick shows up with an F-14 TOMCAT with Rooster. You sighed in relief as you high-fived Coyote, who was also as nervous as you were. But then, listening to the mission unfold was like a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Maverick and Rooster ran out of ammunition while they were being chased by a fifth-generation jet. Just as when they thought about giving up, the enemy plane blew into pieces as a familiar, cocky voice rang from the radio.

"Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return the tray tables to their locked and upright positions and prepare for landing."

"Hey, Hangman, you look good." Rooster says, relief evident in his voice.

"I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. I'll see you back on deck." Hangman replies, as all of you who were gathered around the radio, hugged each other in joy and relief.

The rest of the team who were on the mission arrived as you gave them a hug. Maverick, Rooster, and Hangman landed as well as everyone cheered for their arrival. You ran to Maverick and gave him a hug. "Dad's right, you're quite hard to get rid of, Uncle Mav." He laughed in response as he tapped your shoulder.

"Glad to see you, kid." He replied. You then turned to Rooster as you hugged him as well. You felt happy and relieved that all of them came back safe that you almost hugged everyone you saw-- but not everyone. You made your way towards Jake who was busy shaking people's hands and entertaining praises around him.

"So, I heard you got another confirmed kill." You stated. He nodded as he grinned proudly.

"That makes it two."

You nodded in acknowledgment as you never removed your eyes from his'. "One more and you're there, Bagman."

He took a step closer to you as he smiled. "So, 7 pm?" You chuckled as you raised a brow.

"I told you, I only date top pilots. Are you?"

"Damn straight, I am."

You smiled like an idiot and rolled your eyes at his confident response as you walked away from him. After a few more steps, you looked back at him who was still standing there, waiting for your answer. "6 pm, The Hard Deck. Don't be late, you're not the only one who's on the list, Seresin."

Jake's smile widened as he gave you a small salute. "Yes, ma'am."

That night, both of you came to terms with your feelings. After all, both of you were practically even now.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #im obsessed with jake seresin aotm #hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman imagine

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not-ishmael · 2 years

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A (not so) Brief Study Into the Nature of Deltarune

TL;DR:

For some time I've been quite intrigued by the appearance of some very particular leitmotifs that Undertale's and Deltarune's OSTs have in common. This took me down a rabbit hole that ended with the realization that it's quite possible that DR Sans and UT Sans are one in the same, and the Reset Theory on Deltarune is probably right.

This forces me to believe that Deltarune is a prequel from the perspective of the characters, and a spiritual sequel from the perspective of the Soul/Player.

The Pre-Sequel Theory

First and foremost, pardon my english. I'm quite proud of my english skills, but it's not my first language and sometimes I mess up.

This is a LONG post. There's a lot -a LOT- of text and no images at all to ease the reading. I advice jumping into it only if you don't have anything better to do for a bit. The PDF I firstly wrote this on is 6 and a half pages long.

Index:

Motivations.

Clues in Undertale.

Clues in Deltarune.

The Delta Rune.

Conclusions.

Problems with this theory.

Blood (This part is skippable).

Discussion of the problems.

1 Motivations:

I've always been fascinated by soundtracks and ever since Undertale came up, its soundtrack wasn't an exception.

More recently I've been a bit more focused on the leitmotifs that Toby Fox uses in both game's soundtracks and, as many people have found, they share a lot of common themes. For many of them it's easy to understand why (for instance, for common character's themes, like Sans') but for some others it's not so much.

Having a more or less clear relationship between the games through the music, I tried to study the nature of this relationship, and what elements outside the music can be used as proof of this connection. This got me to Sans ,because of course it did.

Trying to justify this took me down the rabbit hole that theory crafting around Sans has always been, and the musical side of my reasoning ended up being a small part of the whole thing. Regardless I'm quite happy with the result, albeit it's not free of problems that I'll address and discuss at the end.

I'd like to also thank @determinators, who's incredible character analysis on Chara inspired me to write this whole thing.

With that out of the way, let's begin by talking about small details that Undertale gives us and hints to it being connected to Deltarune in some way:

2 Clues in Undertale:

There’s a lot of non-music related hints that point towards a possible connection between both games in Undertale. I tried to make a small summarize of all the most important signs I’ve found.

To begin with, there are a couple of small details that show that Sans Undertale seems to have quite the interesting backstory, these being:

Both him and Papyrus appeared one day in Snowdin, seemenly out of nowhere.

In Sans’ lab there’s a broken machine and a poorly drawn picture of 3 people we don’t recognize with ”don’t forget” written on it.

Sans insists a lot about about how he gave up trying to go back (somewhere, sometime, or both).

On the other hand there’s the famous Gaster’s Entry 17, that could imply some knowledge of the Dark Fountains by the former Royal Scientist. Gaster related as well, there’s Clam Girl, who mentions a monster named Suzy. Soon before the release of Deltarune, in the Switch version of the game, Clam Girl would turn grey and says that the time to meet this Suzy ”... is fast approaching”, before disappearing with the sound Mystery Man makes when disappearing himself. Although Suzy is not written the same way as Susie, there’s no reason to believe that Clam Girl is not talking about Deltarune’s Susie. This not only hints to Undertale and Deltarune being connected, but to Gaster being behind the whole connection, since Clam Girls turns into a goner sprite and disappears the same way Mystery Man does. I know Mystery Man is not confirmed to be Gaster, but it’s definitely related to him in someway.

There must be something going on with Papyrus as well, since he’s Sans’ brother and comes to Snowdin with him, but in Undertale he doesn’t seem to know as much as Sans knows. This could mean, since Papyrus doesn’t bleed, that Undertale Papyrus and Undertale Sans are not the same kind of being, and don't share a past.

2.1 Sans’ lines during combat:

During the fight against Sans, nearing the end of the Genocide Route, we get some clues about his backstory within his lines of dialogue. He begins, after the Player’s first attack, by saying:

our reports showed a massive anomaly in the timespace continuum. timelines jumping left and right, stopping and starting...until suddenly, everything ends. heh heh heh... that's your fault, isn't it?

We don’t know who is he working with, but it seems they know very well about the power to control the timeline, since they were monitoring it.

Sans continues with:

knowing that one day, without any warning... it's all going to be reset.

look. i gave up trying to go back a long time ago. and getting to the sur-ace doesn't really appeal anymore, either. cause even if we do...we'll just end up right back here, without any memory of it, right?

to be blunt...it makes it kind of hard to give it my all.

Here we get a bit more information. Sans is -understandably- depressed about the whole reset situation, but mentions ”going back” somewhere. We know it’s not somewhen since he doesn’t remember earlier timelines -besides the occasional déjà vu- and it’s not the Surface because he mentions it right after that line. So, where else would Sans be trying to go back to? It can’t be anywhere in the Undertale world, since he can move freely through the Underground - even through teleportation- and he specifically states that it’s not the Surface. Thus it can only mean somewhere outside the Undertale world.

A bit after that he continues with:

all i know is... seeing what comes next... i can't afford not to care anymore.

What does he mean by ”seeing what comes next”? He doesn’t know the future, nor what the Player did in other timelines. So, what is he seeing? I have no clue for what he could be referring too, but I do think that the answer lies within Deltarune’s story. We’ll have to wait for future chapters to know.

2.2 Sans’ secret lab:

After Sans gives the Silver Key -which appears to be a reference to a book about timetravel by H.P. Lovecraft- to the Player, we can access the Secret Lab hidden underneath his house. Inside of it we find:

A covered up broken machine.

Blueprints for a machine written in un- readable symbols.

A badge.

A photo album with:

A picture of Sans, happy, with other people the Player doesn’t recognize.

If the Player already fought Asriel: A second picture appears, showing Sans, Frisk and their friends.

After the v1.001 patch of the game, if the Player has talked to Clam Girl and knows of Suzy, from the back of the photo album sticks out a poorly drawn picture of three smiling people with the words ”Don’t Forget” written on it.

The first three items, although interesting, don’t give us much to work with. The machine is covered up and the blueprints are unreadable. The badge could become another huge hint in the future, if during Deltarune’s festival Sans happens to win a badge for winning at something, but this is purely speculation so I won’t be taking it into account.

The pictures and the drawing, on the contrary, give us much more information. Let's discuss them a bit more in depth:

2.2.1 The photo album:

By the time the Player gets the Silver Key, possibly after the battle with Asriel, they (and Frisk) have met every main character in Undertale’s story. Thus, the people in the first picture, who neither the Player nor Frisk recognize, can’t be anyone we know. They could be people from other places in the Underground Frisk hasn’t met -although from a storytelling perspective this doesn’t make much sense- or they could be from the Deltarune world -which makes a lot more sense storywise-.

Furthermore, there’s the poorly drawn picture. Since this picture only appears after talking to Clam Girl, a character heavily tied to Deltarune -specifically to one Deltarune Character-, and it has the words ”Don’t forget” -words that don't mean anything special in Undertale, but are extremely important an present in Deltarune from the very beginning- written on it, it’s safe to assume that the three poorly drawn characters are a trio from Deltarune. Due to Frisk not recognizing them, they have to be characters that only appear on Deltarune. What trio of characters do we know from Deltarune that fit these characteristics? I’m fairly sure Kris and Susie are two of the three, but the third is a bit more complicated. My first suspect was that it was Ralsei, but since he’s a darkner and we don’t know if darkners will be able to get to the Light world somehow, nor if Sans will end up in a Dark world; I’m more inclined to leave that third character’s identity up for debate. My other candidate is Noelle, since Berdly dies in the Snowgrave route of Chapter 2 -and Toby Fox likes to keep all possible endings as canon- and we don’t know any other important lightner that doesn’t appear in Undertale as well.

3 Clues in Deltarune:

Since we have just 2 chapters -out of Toby knows how many-, not many hints to Undertale appear in the second game. Still, much can be said from the leitmotifs that can be heard in the game’s soundtrack, which was the main motivation for this analysis.

3.1 A brief introduction to leitmotifs:

*This part is skippable if you know what a leitmotif is*

To those who don’t know, a leitmotif is a small piece of melody that appears many times in a composition, and is associated to someone, somewhere or an idea. Examples of this are the main themes of characters: a recognizable simple melody that is associated to a specific someone-For instance, the melody in Nyeh Heh Heh!, which would be Papyrus’ leitmotif-.

Soundtracks are rigged with leitmotifs, and neither Undertale’s nor Deltarune’s soundtracks are an exception. Since each one is associated to a specific character, place or idea, the use of the same ones in both games is something to keep in mind.

3.2 Leitmotifs that appear in both games:

The first song that plays inside the world of Deltarune, in Chapter 1, is Beginning, which has 2 leitmotifs in it: Once upon a time -from Undertale-, and Don’t Forget, -from Deltarune-. This second leitmotif appears in several other songs in Chapter 1, and in some of Chapter 2.

The song that plays in the menu after you finish Chapter 1 is called Before the Story, which has the exact same melody as in Once upon a time. This leitmotif is one of the most -if not he most- used in Undertale’s soundtrack. For me, it’s kind of the ”Undertale theme”, for how much it appears in the soundtrack of the game -same as Don't Forget would be Deltarune's theme-.

There are some other Undertale leitmotifs in Deltarune’s OST that I won’t be taking into consideration. These are the character’s leitmotifs, like Sans’, and other that represent important emotions like determination, despair and hope-These leitmotifs are a bit difficult to recognize if you’re not deep into the music side of the games. Determination can be heard, among others, in Undertale’s Determination and Deltarune’s Rude Buster; Despair corresponds to the melody in Undertale’s Burn in Despair, and appears in Your Best Nightmare, Vs. Susie and at Queen’s basement, right before the Spamton NEO fight; and Hope is sometimes called ”Snowdin’s theme”, which appears in Undertale’s Snowdin Town and Hopes and Dreams -thus why I prefer to call it Hope’s leitmotif- and in Deltarune’s A Town Called Hometown-. These leitmotifs being in both games is to be expected, since they either represent common characters or common emotions to both games, so they're not really relevant to the theory.

Going back to the theory, the use of ”Don’t Forget” as a title for the most present leitmotif in Deltarune is a bit on the nose, taking into account the poorly drawn picture in Sans’ Secret Lab. The soundtrack acts as a constant reminder to not forget -pun intended- that drawing. But this isn’t the only insinuation Toby’s left in the game’s music. There’s another, much obscurer clue, it being the name of the song Before the Story. Since it plays in the menu only after you play Chapter 1, it can’t be referring to ”before the story” of Deltarune, since that story has already begun. So, what if the Story is Undertale’s? If so, since it uses the most important leitmotif of Undertale in a song called ”Before the Story”, this would imply that Deltarune’s story happens before Undertale.

3.3 Non-musical clues:

How the Player interacts with the world seems to also indicate a relationship between games. Specifically those lines that point to the Player knowing characters -or things about characters- that Kris doesn’t know yet. This in and of itself is not enough to prove that the games are a direct sequel and prequel of each other but, in combination with everything else already discussed it does add to that idea.

4 The Delta Rune:

Both the appearance of the Delta Rune in both games and its name are big indicators of this connection between games. Even though in Undertale it’s not known what its original meaning was, there’s a prophecy that sounds remarkably alike to the Delta Rune Legend from Deltarune. In Undertale there are two interpretations: either the Angel will murder all monsters, or free them all from the Underground. Additionally, in Deltarune, the Legend Ralsei tells us says that the Angel is to be defeated by three heroes: two lightners -a human and a monster- and a darkner.

Since the Delta Rune is older than written history in Undertale and it’s original meaning was lost to time, that one of the 2 interpretations for this symbol is so close to the Legend Ralsei gives us, with an evil Angel instead of a benevolent one, could mean that, originally, both Runes had the same meaning behind.

5 Conclusions:

With all this in mind, I’m quite sure now that at the end of Deltarune Sans will end up being stuck in Undertale’s world, possibly using the machine he keeps covered up in his lab. Since Papyrus doesn’t seem to be much different to any other monster in the Underground I don’t think he comes from Deltarune’s world, so I fear a tragic end for the Papyrus we’re yet to meet.

This ending would make sense of the whole ”Your choices don’t matter” thing. The Snowgrave route seemed to contradict this statement but, if just Sans is going to Undertale, whatever you do on Deltarune’s Universe won’t matter to Sans’ end. Undertale’s story is already written and the end we got will remain untouched, as Toby said. This also implies that our actions don't matter to Deltarune’s world end too. This, plus the possible death of Papyrus, points to a violent end of the game. Being blunt: I think the Roaring is inevitable.

But if Deltarune is a prequel, how is it that the Player recognizes the characters that both games have in common and it’s advised that the game is played after Undertale? I believe the game is a prequel from Sans’ perspective, and a spiritual sequel from the Player’s. The Player, being the meta-being that it is in the games, doesn’t need to abide by the same temporal rules the characters are forced to follow. Thus there's no contradiction in Deltarune being a prequel to Undertale.

6 Problems with this theory:

To prove this theory we need for Papyrus to die and the Roaring to happen. It’s a grim condition, perhaps too much so that I don’t see Toby having a dream about it and deciding to dedicate the next +10 years of his life to make a game about it; or perhaps it's just the kind of dramatic and emotive ending that would motivate someone to do exactly just that.

UT Papyrus seems to not know anything about his brother’s possible past in another world, and acts as if they had been together since forever. They both appeared one day in Snowdin and his past seems as mysterious as Sans’, but they can’t be directly related since Papyrus doesn’t bleed.

I don’t know how will Sans get to Undertale’s world (my guess is Gaster, but he’s a bit of an easy-way-out in theory crafting).

Naming a song doesn’t need to be a very thought out process, even if Toby Fox has a tendency to be very attentive to details. The name of Before the story could just be a synonym to "Main menu".

Grillby’s. Sans’ convenience store, ’Sans, appears to have the same façade as Grillby’s in Undertale, with the name of Grillby rubbed off. This small detail is a possible proof against the sequel thesis, albeit it could just mean that Hometown had a Grillby’s before Sans’ convenience store and it closed down for some unknown reason.

It’s debated whether monsters from Deltarune have magic or not. There are some indications that they do have magical powers, but for some reason seem to have forgotten about them and it’s been left as an obscure thing very little people know about. Anyhow, Sans does have -very powerful- magic powers in Undertale, so this uncertainty could disprove the whole theory.

7 Blood.

*This entire part is skippable, after reading the TL;DR*

TL;DR: As always, blood seems to be the biggest issue around Sans’ theories. To summarize, unless we get undeniable proof that DR monsters do bleed in some way before turning into dust, Sans bleeding could be a huge weak point for this theory.

Before I finish this post, I'd like to address one of the biggest conundrums in Undertale: Sans' blood. Throughout the post I've gone with the assumption that Sans can bleed without proving it in anyway.

It’s fair to say that Sans does bleed in Undertale before turning into dust outside the screen, and he’s the only Undertale monster that does. We know he bleeds because he does it from the mouth as well, far from where the Player cuts him, which would only happen with regular bleeding around a digestive system rather than with ketchup stored in his rib cage. But, is there any indication that Deltarune monsters bleed?

This is highly debatable, but there are some unused sprites that show Susie bleeding. Even though they are unused, why would Toby Fox make them if the thought of bleeding monsters wasn’t in his mind? There’s a monster kid - not the Monster Kid- that asks Kris if it hurts to be made of blood, which implies that monsters are not; but the bleeding Susie sprite is a huge indicative that Toby had this idea of monsters bleeding in Deltarune.

Regarding the ”everybody bleeds” quote, in the Japanese version of the game Susie doesn’t mention blood but ”wounds”, using a word in no way related to blood or bloody wounds. Because of this, the quote is probably just a figure of speech. It’s a bit odd that a monster would use a figure of speech that mentions blood, but it’s probably because the script is written by a human, for humans to read; or that she comes from a human community, as some have hypothesised.

7.1 Berdly’s death:

Anyhow, monsters in Deltarune do seem to turn into dust after they die. Gerson, for instance, had his dust buried with his hammer, following a similar funeral ritual to that of Undertale. But Berdly, who is presumably dead after Chapter 2 if the Snowgrave route was taken, didn’t. At least, not for a long time, from after he died until Kris, Susie and Noelle leave the Librarby.

The toy in the hospital’s waiting room appears to confirm to Berdly’s death, since one of the blue beads breaks off after Snowgrave -this means there's more than 1 blue bead, possibly 2: one for Berdly and one for Kris-. But can we be certain that this means death? We do know this toy symbolizes the state of the game: the beads’ colours are the same as the main characters’, it’s said that they each ”march along their set paths", reminding us that our actions don't matter, and in the end of Chapter 2 - if nobody died- it says that the beads "march on". Berdly’s coloured bead being broken and off the rail after Snowgrave, and him appearing to ”not be awake” in the Light world indicate the end of the road for that character. It’s safe to assume that this detail does confirm that he dies after Snowgrave. But if so, how is it that his body didn’t turn immediately into dust?

In the Neutral route, Berdly’s arm gets burned and, after the Dark Fountain gets sealed, his arm doesn’t seem to respond. It’s not burned, just not moving. From this we can assume that injuries in the Dark world have physical manifestations in the Light world. This explains why Berdly is just dead and not frozen after Snowgrave. But it also could mean that he’s not completely dead, but fallen down, a comatose fatal state. This could mean that the broken bead does means certain death, just not right away. If so, then there’s nothing pointing to Deltarune monsters being any different to Undertale’s in nature, other than their apparent lack of magic powers, and this whole theory crumbles to dust -pun intended-.

As always, blood seems to be the biggest issue around Sans’ theories. So, to summarize, unless we get undeniable proof that monsters bleed in some way before turning into dust, this will keep on being a huge weak point in this theory.

8 Discussion of the problems:

Regardless of these problems, including the blood one, I still believe that this theory holds. There’s enough evidence to back up the thesis. Even if monsters don’t bleed in Deltarune, it’d make perfect sense for Sans UT to be from this world and not Undertale’s.

Nevertheless, if the blood problem isn’t explained through Deltarune, new theories will have to arise to explain why Sans is so different from any other monster.

Furthermore, if bleeding is not something Deltarune monsters do, then it’s possible that UT Papyrus is the same as DR Papyrus, like Sans, since the main reason for that distinction was that Papyrus didn’t bleed. This would imply an ending a bit less grim for the skeleton duo, although the inevitability of the Roaring still looks unavoidable to maintain the whole theme of the game: ”Your choices don’t matter ”

#Undertale #Undertale Theory #Deltarune #Deltarune Theory #Sans #Papyrus #Susie #Ralsei #noelle holiday #kris dreemurr #Toby Fox #This took me a lot longer than it should have #I might have a slight problem with these games #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune chapter 2 #delta rune #gaster

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feladi-fority · 2 months

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Happy Homestuck day everyone!

Fuck, insane I'm still obsessed with a comic THIS OLD but what can you do.

I feel like people often focus on what Homestuck did poorly or just discuss the characters or the comic abstractly, so in this post I wanna go into a bit more detail about what I think this comic did really really right which I'm yet to see done in other media.

The dialogue is just fantastic. Hussie really knows how to write naturalistic internet style dialogue and it breaths life into characters which otherwise are very flat. So many of the characters are objectively very simple but the dialogue is just so good they still feel like real people. Like Nepeta is objectively very boring, but the dialogue made her feel real enough to make past me kin her.

The format gets a lot of attention for using flash animation and games, but I think the real biggest strength of Homestuck's format is the pesterlogs. I read through Kill 6 Billion Demons a bit ago which is a very similar comic to Homestuck and despite loving it I found I didn't grow nearly as attached to the characters as I did HS. The reason I've come to as to why is that in K6BD the standard comic formatting just doesn't allow natural the characters to be normal people and have normal conversations without totally killing the pacing, so to maintain a fast pace it has to keep that to a minimum. In Homestuck, however, the pesterlogs allow characters to just kinda talk about whatever for normal amounts of time while not requiring the plot to just stop around them. John can ramble about his love of Con Air while doing important ectobiology shit. This gives the audience time to get to know these characters while maintain the lightning fast pace of acts 3 and 4 and a bit of 2 and 5.

The time travel, holy shit like I have NEVER seen time travel done so well, I used to think I hated time travel in media until I read this comic. The comedy gotten through time-traveling chat clients and the use of stable time loops for the story is just so masterfully done. The fact HS manages to have very few plot-holes in terms of its time travel internal consistency is seriously impressive compared to other stories featuring it. I crave so badly a story which can reach the peaks of the lil' Cal reveal and the conversions Karkat had with Karkat.

The fandom hooks. Like most stories are out here letting the fandom do some shipping or have a fun set of factions or a magic system to sort their fav characters into. Homestuck is here quadrupling the potential ships. "My story has 4 elements and what element you have is determined by your personality" Homestuck has a character personality sorting system with 336 possible combinations. Your story has one cool unique world to imagine being in? Homestuck has several. How would your fav react in the Hunger Games? How would they react to their entire planet being destroyed and being sent into a game designed to allow personal expression as much as possible! The lore is also overcomplicated but it does a great job at helping the audience through it. Like fuck this shit was crack to my neurodivergent ass.

The [s] pages were fucking AWESOME, like I am yet to feel the emotion the best [s] pages did since I finished reading the comic for the first time. The complexity of the storytelling means that when it's being told visually you need to actively interpret what's happening, causing strong moments of "oh shit!" when you realize what you just saw, further making an already awesome animation even better!

The way the comic mythologized the feeling of growing up online was so fucking cool to my terminally online ass. It made the worldbuilding feel so much more compelling than similarly complex fantasy worldbuilding ever has.

I might have missed a few things Homestuck did really well I'd like to bring up so I might make another post later, but like, damn. Homestuck was an incredibly unique work and I haven't seen anything like it since. One of my goals in life is to make a work that makes other feels how this comic made me feel cuz nothing has scratched that itch for me, but who knows if I'll succeed at that.

Either way, happy 413! I'm a derse sylph of heart btw <3

#homestuck 413 #homestuck #413

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strangesickness · 6 months

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thinking about how much a death in the family sucks again (tbh idk why i always expect the comics that are deemed "important" to be good. because they aren't.)

long rant under the cut, cw for discussion of the anti-iranian racism in the comic

like we start out with bruce and jason in conflict and i want to see that play out! because we just saw how things went with dick and so i'm reading this thinking about how i want to know how bruce is going to handle things, did he learn from his mistakes? (no) will he and jason work things out? (even bigger no) and then we get the bit about jason's bio mom and thats interesting too and could be fun, jason going on a globe trotting mission to find his bio mom, i was personally hoping that jason would also come away with new understanding that just because catherine wasn't biologically related to him doesn't mean she wasn't family. that kind of thing you know? and like i already knew how this story ended so i knew this didn't happen but i think it could've been a really important moment in bruce and jason's relationship, bruce could've realized that he screwed up with jason the exact same way he screwed up with dick and found a way to make things better and jason could accept bruce as family after realizing that catherine didn't have to be related to him by blood to be his mom. that kind of thing. sickly sweet? maybe. but a guy can dream lol. but jason's death just feels? forced? like i know he was around pre crisis so its not like they introduced him then immediately killed him (although compared to dick his robin run is shockingly short pre & post crisis combined) but you don't give a guy a brand new origin story just to kill him off a year later. and i know it was down to a vote or whatever, but i'd be pretty damn inclined these days to vote to have bruce wayne killed off if DC asked, that doesn't mean they SHOULD.

and then theres the racism, which is abundant and took a boring comic with a poorly thought out plot thread into an unbearable slog of a read. i don't know how i never heard about the racism in a death in the family until after i read because it really is horribly pervasive. the entire thing is just "iranians are terrorists". i know i sure as hell never heard this until after i had read it so: if you guys didn't know! a death in the family is about the joker selling nukes to "iranian terrorists" and then he becomes an iranian ambassador for the UN because "their views align" or some other bs. the story doesn't work if it isn't racist, like it's genuinely tied into the fabric of the story. there's no a death in the family without racism.

also the racism makes the story completely nonsensical to anyone who isn't a racist asshole because it relies on the reader believing racist stereotypes, so if you just, don't believe those things, then the story makes no goddamn sense.

basically what i'm saying is a death in the family is disappointing and i DO NOT recommend reading it. even if you haven't read it, if you're in the fandom you probably have a pretty good idea of what happens anyways. just read the wiki page or something, you'll save yourself half an hour of racist bullshit.

#a death in the family #batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #robin #analysis #<- does this even count as analysis?#posts afflicted with a strange sickness #red's bat problem

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

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Burden

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

Chapter 12: The Endless and The Forest Queen

TW: some angsty Dream, lots of fluff, Hob Gadling meets Munin and both of them are confused as hell, both of our immortals have it BAD for each other, remembering a few not so fun memories, Munin is a cute mom & Dream is the reluctant storyteller, a few very sexually charged scenes, Dream is a tease, Munin is too, and finally some tender smut for y'all. 😂 Lots of good stuff this chapter.

Just a quick note, this chapter is longer than I expected (almost 30 pages) and took a LOT to finish so I'll likely not post chapter 13 until after I get back from my break. Sorry! But now that I'm going to do a sequel I'd like to take my time with the last few chapters so it'll end in a satisfying place for everyone 🥰

This was also edited kind of poorly 😂 The website I use was glitching sooo take mistakes with a grain of salt please 🤣

She did not remember him.

Daunt, Munin stood perched upon the steps to his throne, looking at him with eyes he did not recognize. She was moonlight wrapped in wreaths of earth and golden hues that reminded him of sunshine. No longer the dark being he knew with the eyes that spoke to the darkness inside him, but instead acted as a mirror. In a puff of mist, she was standing in front of him; head tilted back to compensate for the height difference. It took everything within him not to reach out and hold her or press his lips to hers in a fervent kiss to remind her of who he was, what she meant to him, and… subsequently, what he meant to her.

In her eyes, he saw himself, golden hues swirling within them like sand while the silver and white rippled like pools of liquid metal and ethereal water. Her eyes showed him the life he’d lived. Memories pulled to the forefront of his mind almost against his will as a power took hold of him as gently as a lover’s touch. This was her power, the being that stood before him no longer the fractured and dull hum that Daunt’s power had been. This was stronger, urgent, and… other. It made him ache with an uncomfortable sensation while at the same time making him want to curl into her even more.

Her eyes lifted away from his, looking above his head as she walked around him, lips tugging up into a blinding smile. He nearly closed his eyes when she’d held her hand up, anticipating the soft touch. “Your memory is so beautiful.”

She carefully reached up, plucking something from the air above his head and pulling it back to reveal a shining star between her fingers. Cradling it in her hands as a mother would a newborn babe, she watched the light curiously as a small memory lit up within her palms and played between them. Of course, it was an insignificant memory of one of his first creations. Still, it was noteworthy how he felt as though he were reliving it as she gazed down. “How…”

Looking back up, she smiled. “Memory is always unique in the shapes and forms it takes, but I’ve never seen ones that look like this before. An endless crown of stars, all your memories displayed so proudly. It suits you, Dream of the Endless.”

This felt odd. Dream had never encountered one like you before, save his brother, but Destiny didn’t go around spouting off your life story. “You can see my memories. How?”

“I can’t see all of them. As to how memories are my function. They are me, and I am them.”

“Memory,” he whispered as the realization dawned on him. All this time, you’d been right… you’d felt incomplete because you were somehow. Memory… that was why The Forest was so connected to The Dreaming. Why Daunt had followed the voices of the dreamers into his realm and not elsewhere. Dreams and memories shared this plane, shared a purpose, and he had punished her for it.

She said nothing, simply plucking another memory and pinching it between her fingers, pulling to expand it, when a sudden and raw pain exploded in his mind. “Here in the darkness…” Old voices echoed as the memories of the small glass cage were forced back into his mind like a rush of water he couldn’t stop.

For a moment, he was back in the glass cage, staring out at Daunt as she beheld him. “For so long, you sat in silence… desperate, pleading… hoping for someone to come for you. So angry and hurt and full of sorrow that they knew and yet… no one came.” She stepped forward, pressing her hand to the cage. A whisper rattled the glass as he saw the memory with unclouded eyes.

Daunt had been there. She had come and gone, watching him with deep sorrow in her eyes. She had used what little remained of her power to help free him. And all she’d asked in return was that simple whisper. “Find me.” He’d failed at that as well. Failed you in every sense he could. This meeting only confirmed what he’d long feared. Daunt had died hating him. Though she’d told him she was not angry, she spoke softly and lovingly to him and promised him that they would reunite… She had to have hated him.

“I know this pain.” Her voice startled him out of the memory. His hands moved quickly, grabbing her wrist and forcing her eyes away from the cage in her hands to look up at him in fear. He saw that day in Fiddlers Green play within her eyes as she quickly tore away from him.

“Apologies,” He said in a strangled voice. Dream did not want to repeat his past mistakes, not with you. “That… that is a memory I’ve no wish to relive again.” With a mournful weight in his chest, he remained still as you cautiously lifted the memory back where you found it. “Did I harm you?”

He watched her hands shake, guilt consuming him. “No.”

The white wolf growled, pressing its snout to her wrist with a simple question and a threatening look gleaming in his eye. “Are you hurt?”

Munin looked down at the creature, her face slowly easing into a more relaxed expression as she ran her hands over his fur. “No. Be still, my star. I am well.”

As the wolf he’d only ever known to be cold and cruel pressed his head into your chest, Dream felt a powerful sense of loss consume him. The beast was at ease beside you, yet all he could feel was regret and disappointment that you were not her. Bowing his head, he spoke, “You are most welcome in my realm,” Daunt. “Lady Munin.”

“Thank you, Dream of The Endless.” she reciprocated the bow but a wariness held in her eyes.

“Morpheus,” he insisted. “You may call me Morpheus.”

“Lord Morpheus,” she tested, the sound of her lithe and musical voice speaking his name sent a chill up his spine. “It suits you well.”

“My lord!” Lucienbe called as she hurriedly made her way to the throne room. “Have you found the creature? Or shall I- Sirius!” She smiled at the beast as he moved to greet her, stroking his fur and shaking her head like a mother scolding her child. “There you are! We’ve been looking for you for ages. Where have you been?”

Siriys nuzzled her cheek before turning to look up at Munin. “Home.”

His librarian’s eyes cast upward and filled with tears as she smiled. She stood, moving quickly to wrap her arms around Lady Munin and pull her tightly into the embrace. For a moment, he feared she would react adversely to this intimate act from a. However, she stood still for a second before returning Lucienne’s embrace. “Lucienne…��

A pang of jealousy and hurt filled his chest. She remembered Lucienne but not him?

“Lady Daunt,” Lucienne whispered, pulling away to look at your face. She quickly noticed the differences but said nothing but, “It is so good to see you.”

“Daunt…” the lady whispered, her hand lifting to her chest, to the thin scar that remained. Dream held his breath as he gazed upon it, remembering all too well the sight of Daunt thin and weak with her chest torn open and the tree’s roots curled around her heart. “That was my name. Her

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. I hope you and I can be close… like we were before.”

“You already are my friend, Lucienne. The memories I’ve seen have told me such,” Munin said gently.

Lucienne smiled, bowing her head. “I am honored.”

Her eyes shifted to the misty figures that now filled his throne room. She was curious, tilting her head and examining each one with bright eyes. “There is so much memory here, swirling in the air wanting to take form.” As you moved, the figures turned more solid, moving as though they were real as voices, memories filled the throne room.

Munin danced beside them, twirling and twisting to match their movements with a bright smile and a soft laugh that made him want to profess his lingering feelings to you. But then, you turned to a familiar figure. The Corinthian. And she stopped. Dream could see the pain and the sorrow mixed with a joyful look plain on her face, and his heart ached all the more. Yet, even in a new life, she could not bring herself to hate the nightmare that had caused this. Slowly she lifted her hand to the memory’s cheek. “I know your face.”

The golden owl swooped from above, cutting through the misty figure with its talons and an angry screech. Munin did not appear surprised by the creature’s behavior as she shook her head and turned back to face him. Her eyes trailed back to his head, to the memories she said she could see there. With a curious noise, she asked, “So many of them are locked away… Hidden even from you. Why?”

“Perhaps there are things I do not wish to remember.”

“You cannot run from them,” she said, voice reassuring in a way he’d not expected. “Memories are a part of you, good and bad. I can help you if you’d like. It is part of my function to aid in confronting one’s darker memories. I suppose I’m not unlike your nightmares in that regard.”

Her, like a nightmare? His eyes beheld her otherworldly beauty with an unfaltering knowledge that she was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen. Any human graced with the sight of her would compare her to an angel. With a light laugh, he shook his head. “You, Lady Munin, are no nightmare.”

“Thank you,” she said, a blush rising to her cheeks.

It took everything within him not to step closer, not to take those rosy cheeks in his hands and whisper the words he’d been holding onto for years. Instead, he straightened his back, forcing himself to look away from her as he asked, “If I may inquire, what is it that brought you to my realm?”

“I’ve already found much here. But I came to inquire in your library for an answer to a question.”

Lucienne’s face lit up as she stepped closer to Munin. “The library is full of information. Surely your answer will be within a book.”

She smiled. “This is my hope.”

“What is it you wish to know?” Lucienne asked, carefully leading you down the hallway toward the library.

Matthew glanced up at him from the ground. “You… uh… alright, boss?”

“Yes,” he whispered back.

The golden owl landed in front of Matthew, straightening up and beholding the smaller bird with large eyes. “You’re quite a small little thing, aren’t you?”

Matthew gulped. “Uh… I guess so.”

The gold of the owl’s eyes flared. “I like that.”

“You, oh, um…” The raven looked up at Dream and cawed loudly. “I’m gonna go do that thing you wanted me to.”

He shook his head, turning down the hallway and catching up to Lady Munin and Lucienne as she continued to explain her problem. “It seems my recollection of my past life… of Daunt is splintered. I recall some things vividly, and others I cannot find.”

Lucienne hummed, a thoughtful look passing between him and her. “It will take some time to find something within the vast expanse we’ve at our disposal.”

“Yes, I was expecting a bit of searching.”

Lucienne’s eyes went to a white book that glittered atop her table. “While we wait, perhaps it would interest you to see this.”

“The book of mists,” she breathed, slowly moving closer to gaze at it. “So few have read it.”

“I’m afraid we’ve not read it,” his librarian corrected, sparing a look at him. “It appears to be fragmented. There are only a few words, and they don’t make much sense.”

Munin shook her head and replied, “You do not read memories.” She opened the book to the first page of the tree with the simple words scrawled messily at the bottom. “You remember them.” Then, with a deep breath, she read, “In the beginning, there was a tree.”

Mist rose from the book, taking the shape of the words and bringing the memories they held to life. It twisted into a tree, small and frail looking, shifting as it began to grow, showing the progression of it throughout the pages until the first tree towering over everything and stretched up toward the ceiling.

“Memory. That was our name long before. We were not this… We had no physical form, for memory is no tangible or mere object. It is everything and nothing all at once, unique to each being.”

“How did you come to be then?” He inquired, watching the figures dance beneath the great tree.

“The first tree saw all, across every realm and every plane… We saw memories. The humans, the gods… your memories,” she breathed, looking away from the book to him, eyes swimming once again in things he’d long forgotten. He’d visited the tree before with his sister and seen these humans dancing and living their lives. “We saw so many things, but it was you… Your dreamers that created that song. The first song.” The tune Daunt had always hummed began to play all around him. “It made us... Want... For the first time, we wanted memories of our own, something tangible to hold in our hands and feel and love.”

Flipping the page, her face twisted in pain. “They cut us… The tree and we were forced… split apart from The Great Tree... Split from Memory, and so I… She came out fractured. Wrong. Distress. Discourage.” Turning toward him again with tears in her eyes, she whispered, “Daunt.”

Daunt. For as long as he’d known her, she had spoken of a feeling of incompleteness. A feeling that there was more to her and her function. He’d laughed at the notion, of course. Mocked her with whatever cruel words he could conjure at the time, and he’d gone about his days unbothered. Now he paid the price. If he had listened to her then, had done any amount of research, he likely would have discovered the origins she so desperately wished to know. Dream, with all his wisdom and power, could have helped her. Dying would not have been the only way she could recover what she’d lost at the hands of humans. And he’d denied her even that.

“Thank you. For sharing this gift with us,” he whispered, pain making the words difficult to speak.

Lucienne beheld the book with adoring eyes, as she always did. “I’ve not seen a book like this before. It is marvelous!”

“A fine addition to your library.” Munin offered it to her.

“It belongs with you. Back in The Forest.”

Munin chuckled and shook her head. “Memory has no need for books. I think the dreamers would find more use for it than I would.”

Lucienne’s hands curled around the leather, and she nodded. “I shall keep it safe and well cared for.”

“As you do with all the other books under your care,” she assured her. “It will bring me great joy knowing it is getting such attention.”

“I will search the shelves for an answer to your questions, my lady. How will we call to you once we find answers?”

“I will return in a few days,” she looked at Dream. “If that is alright with you, Lord Morpheus?”

He couldn’t nod fast enough. “My realm is open for you to come and go as you please, Lady Munin.”

Lady Munin appeared unconvinced. Her head tilted slightly as she looked at him long and hard, searching for something. “Return to The Forest,” she eventually instructed the wolf and the owl. “I’ll be joining you shortly.”

“We can remain with you, my lady,” Sirius insisted.

“It’s alright. I would like to see a location that’s been plaguing my mind. A pier, I believe.”

The pier. The place he’d spent many long nights watching Daunt from afar with a bitter look of disdain before he’d actually cared enough to see the human’s depictions of her. He squeezed his hands behind his back. This was not likely to end well. “I will escort you there myself.”

“Thank you,” she replied, looking down at her companion. “I’ll be home soon, my star.”

The water lapped beneath the sturdy as Dream walked beside the Lady Munin toward the edge of the dock. She gazed off into the mist - the mist he’d spent so long staring into, hoping to find Daunt staring back - and the calm waters below. “Though much seems to be lost within my knowledge, I still hear voices of the past. Voices mocking me… her.” Dream grew stiff, forcing himself to take a breath, preparing for her to confirm his fears, “It is your voice I hear loudest among them. It says such cruel things, but the word that seems to repeat is burden. Why did you hate her so?”

“I did not hate her,” he answered low and remorseful. What more could he tell her without letting the truth slip from his lips? How would she react to hearing a stranger, a being whose voice she only knew in insults and cruelty, tell her he loved her?

Looking up at him, she said, “Yet you spoke words meant to harm her.”

I am sorry, he longed to say, though the words would likely mean little to her. “I made a great many mistakes when you… she… was concerned.”

“Yes,” she agreed with furrowing brows as confusion replaced everything else. “And yet… it is not anger, hatred, or pain I feel when I look at you through her eyes.”

“What do you see then?” He needed to hear it. Tell me she hated me. Tell me you hate me. Say it so I might be able to use the truth of your words to finally cast me away. He was begging her, begging to receive the long overdue punishment.

“Hope,” she began softly, eyes trailing along his form like fire. “And starlight and… longing…”

When she dared meet his gaze again, she no doubt saw his tears. “Longing for what?”

“I do not know,” she replied. “But, I suppose the simplest answer I can give you is this: I do not hate you, Dream of the Endless, and neither did she.”

He wanted to let his tears fall then. Daunt’s voice, her voice, spoke them back to him. I do not hate you. It was more than he’d hoped for. More than he’d ever thought he would receive, and it only made his love grow stronger. She was not Daunt, but she was. She was all that Daunt had ever wished to be but could not. Munin was more Daunt than the woman he’d known, and he loved every part of her, old and new. “A new beginning.”

“One for us both, it would seem.”

“You are always welcome in my realm.”

“As you are in mine,” she replied, eyes turning to the water as it rippled and revealed the realm that now waited for its queen.

“Until we meet again,” Dream said, closing his eyes and bowing before her. “Lady Munin.”

“Until then, Lord Morpheus.”

I love you still.

I love you in every body, every name, every lifetime… I love you.

You’d spent the passing days coming and going from the memories of humans. You fulfilled your function with joyful pride in significant and small events. You helped humans find lost objects, helped the elderly remember bits and pieces of their lives, and even helped animals find their way home. It was peaceful and even predictable in a way you enjoyed. That is until you stumbled across one tree. It was older than the others, but the face etched within it was young. You’d passed through the roots and admired all the memories this man seemed to hold. Latching onto one among them and following it to the other side to find yourself within a tavern standing before your human and Dream of the Endless.

They sat beside one another, speaking like they were old friends. “I suggest you find yourself a different line of business, Robert Gadling.”

“You’re giving me advice?” the man asked before you turned away, moving through the mist to find the man still very much alive in the present day. He stood at the head of a large room, speaking intelligently and showing the large mass of students multiple slides on the large screen.

You stood near the back, curiously watching as he explained the history within the book. At the same time, his memory shot out like fireworks recalling the events he should not have been alive to remember. Once his speech ended and the other bodies filed out, you descended the stairs. “Robert Gadling?”

He turned, eyes growing wide as he beheld you, white hair and flowing gown with eyes that mirrored the joyful and rambunctiousness of the man before you. “I… That… Who are you?”

“I am a being of memory,” you answered simply. “What are you?”

“Excuse me?” he asked with a chuckle. “I’m a man.”

“No mere man holds so much within him.” You moved around him, examining him closely as though you’d find something to tell you exactly what creature stood before you. “You are no demon. That much is certain. A wayward spirit, perhaps?”

The man laughed, turning to follow you through the room. “What makes you say I’m more than man, fair stranger?”

You lifted your hand to his memories, fire, and powder sparking in your palm as you pulled one down to show him. “It is as I said; no mere man holds so much within him.”

He watched you with narrow eyes. “Are you a student or some weird new professor I haven’t met yet?”

“No,” you replied, face scrunching together. “I don’t believe so.”

“Well, I could show you around,” the man offered, looking at the clock on his wall. “I’ve got some time between classes.”

You turned on your heel, vanishing from the Waking World and returning to the grove of trees. Climbing out from beneath the man’s tree roots, you examined his face carved into the wood. You’d never met a being like him, more than mortal but persistent upon being called such. The Dream King had, though, you reminded yourself. He’d been there in his memories. Surely he’d know what manner of creature this man was. You owed him another visit anyway. It would be an opportune time to discuss the oddities you’d discovered.

With Sirius remaining in The Forest while you and Kat flew through the portal and into The Dreaming, you sought out the palace, meeting the small black bird in the skies once again. This time you slowed your approach, trying not to startle the poor thing as you had last time. He took notice of you quickly, the giant shadow cast over him being rather difficult to miss. He flew beside you the whole way to the palace, where you landed in the throne room in a puff of mist and white wings exploding.

Matthew cawed beside you, hopping just a step closer. “Looks like you need to work on your landings.”

You hurriedly snatched the feathers out of the air and gathered armfuls of them up off the floor. “Landing is difficult.”

Kat made a noise, golden eyes watching the petite raven. “We meet again, little bird.”

With a nervous noise, the raven scooted closer to your side and further from your golden companion. “Yeah… uh, so what brings you to The Dreaming?”

“A few things.” You continued picking up the feathers as you spoke, “I came to inquire about a mortal as well as to see what progress has been made in the library.”

“Okay,” Matthew replied, cocking his head to the side. “Why are you picking those up?”

“It’d be rude of me to leave this mess,” you insisted. “I doubt the all-powerful Dream Lord would appreciate feathers all over his throne room.”

“He would certainly not,” Dream’s voice echoed through the ample space as he walked out from between the pillars. “Though, given the circumstances, I suppose I could simply aid you in their disposal.”

With a wave of his hand, the feathers vanished. You straightened up and bowed your head to him. “Lord Morpheus.”

He bowed his head to you. “Lady Munin. I assume you’ve come to see Lucienne.”

“Yes,” you admitted meeting his eyes as you added, “And you.”

For a moment, he seemed dazed by your confession, but then with a slight twitch of his lips, he gestured toward the library. “Lucienne will wish to speak to you as soon as possible.”

Following close behind him, you looked up at his face, watching the light roam across it as it filtered in through the windows. “I saw a memory of you.”

“Oh?” He questioned, starry eyes dropping to spare you an amused glance.

“There is a man, a tree older than it should be, with a face that remains young.” You shook your head. “He has so many memories, ones far beyond the lifetime of a normal human. You were in some of them.”

With a slight upturn of his lips, he asked, “Did this strange man have a name?”

“Robert Gadling,” you said. “That’s what you’d called him.”

A fraction of a smile lined his perfect lips as he nodded. “Hob Gadling is an old friend. It is not surprising that you’d find the number of his memories a bit confusing. He is a mortal being granted immortality from my sister, Death. He has lived many lifetimes, and I would assume he has quite the collection of memories.”

You nodded, recalling the vast array of them he’d held. “Does he not know of the powers that run this world?”

“I’ve not explained it to him,” Dream admitted. “Why?”

“He seemed quite confused to see me,” you replied. “At the time, I mistook him for another being. I may have called him a wayward spirit.”

Dream chuckled. “He’s been called much worse.”

Lucienne had found a multitude of books focusing on memory and the vast theories behind it. Though none truly answered the question you sought, they provided Lucienne with more than enough to think about. She paced around the desk for a moment. “Perhaps it is simply a defense mechanism.”

“Defense from what?” You questioned cautiously, leafing through the pages of the book she’d set in front of you.

“Well, the last portion of your, Daunts, life was rather… horrific. Perhaps when you rejoined The Great Tree, it chose to omit them from your mind to ensure you would be able to shift into your new life.”

It made some sense. “How do I retrieve them, now that I’m no longer… new?” The librarian scoured the shelves for a moment before handing you a book. You took it without question, dropping it as though it’d burned you as the sleek leather cover turned white beneath your fingers. The chair scraped against the floor as you pushed yourself to your feet, and with wide, almost frightened eyes, you turned to Dream, who’d been quietly observing. “I’m sorry. I… I forgot about that…”

His face was soft, eyes even more so as he approached you slowly, lifting your hand and placing it back on the cool leather. “It is just a book. Red or white, its pages have not changed.”

“I-”

“Do not apologize,” he insisted. “Not for something so small as this.”

The two of you stood there momentarily, lingering close to each other with his hand still atop yours. It felt soft to be touched by him… a sensation you’d not expected but one that lit a spark within your lungs. You wanted to keep touching him, wanted him to keep touching you. And as though he could hear your thoughts, his eyes shifted away from yours, and he slid back, gliding to the other side of the table and taking a seat.

You sat in the library for hours, searching book after book, roaming the shelves with the sleek black of the Dream King following you. The close proximity brought a chill to the air, something you found was normal in his presence. He was cold and often stoic, but whenever you caught a glimpse of that smile or a hint of a laugh, it felt like the sun was shining on you after a long and cold winter. Dream of the Endless was rather intoxicating to be around. You found yourself staying close beside him, enjoying each slight shift of movement that brought his coat sliding against your skin or, even better, his skin against yours.

Once you’d gone through every book you could find, with a few promising theories to test, you found yourself following Dream into his realm. He showed you everything, explaining it all and providing you an answer to every question you asked. He’d likely done all this before, but you found yourself gladdened to see just how willing he was to do it again. You’d never seen him look so proud and regal. It only added to the pit of growing fondness you seemed to hold for him.

You were speechless when the ground beneath you shifted to a small dirt path lined with wildflowers and surrounded by trees. Beside you, Lord Morpheus turned to glance your way. “This is Fiddler’s Green. One of the most beautiful places within my realm.”

“It’s magnificent,” you answered, running your hand through a patch of tall grass. “It reminds me of home.”

“Perhaps a part of you remembered it when you forged your realm anew,” he suggested.

The thought brought a smile to your face. “A gift from another life.” A final gift from Daunt.

Twigs snapped on the path ahead as a great stag leaped out from the trees and halted before you. He was large with great antlers that bowed and bent in a unique design that made you want to stare at the creature forever. Then, with wide eyes, it moved forward, craning its neck out toward you. You reached out, fingers just about to brush its soft snout when a voice angry and cruel echoed in your mind. “Was it not your touch that did this?” You stilled. “Everything you touch spoils…”

A cold swept behind you as Dream pressed his chest to your back, gently taking your hand in his and guiding it forward into the stags snout. Its fur turned white beneath your touch, spreading through its coat like frost. “I think white suits it far better, don’t you?”

Deep within your chest, an old lingering hurt warmed, healed by the gesture in a way you didn’t fully understand as you watched the white stag prance back through the trees. “Yes… It was a beautiful beast.”

Dream received your invitation and immediately answered. It was a rare gift to have you share your realm. It’d taken Daunt centuries, and he’d not waste this opportunity. With Lucienne at his side, the two of them walked the delicately carved path, admiring the trees and the vibrant flowers of purple and blue. With a smile, Lucienne said, “It is so beautiful here.”

“It is,” he agreed. “It’s everything she wanted her realm to be.”

“I am glad she is back,” Lucienne replied softly. “And that she is happy.”

He could only agree, even with the weight of her memory loss weighing against his heart. “As am I.”

“My lord,” his librarian began quietly. “I cannot help but notice the… fondness between you and Lady Munin.”

“Ask, Lucienne,” he prompted.

“Do you feel for her as you did Daunt?”

Dream had thought long and hard about this question, preparing for the day that someone would ask him or that she would remember something that hinted at his past feelings. The answer was always the same. “Yes. Though she’s not exactly Daunt, I can see that being within her. She is all that and more. I am fond of her.”

With a smile, Lucienne nodded. “I am glad to hear it. If it’s not too forward of me, the two of you make a fine pair.”

They came to a clearing, a large crevice separating the surrounding forest, and a large gate across a floating stone courtyard. The circular platform was decorated with statues carved of wood, each appearing to be a woman bound in different colored vines and holding braziers of glowing light. Standing tall in front of them was a gate of intricately carved bark.

The smooth surface depicted carvings, the most noticeable among them a great tree in the center, tall and etched in gold at the top, slowly bleeding into white and silver. Owls and a growing tree, and a woman decorated the surface, along with a rising sun. The middle was lighter but appeared more aged… damaged by flame around the edges. The white brought out the carvings, making Dream’s eyes linger on every part of it. Wolves and wilted plants, great clouds of mist, and a weeping woman. Daunt. The lowest part continued in white but was lined with veins of gold and the carved figures gleaming with silver. Roots and leaves with a multitude of figures gathered around a woman. Munin.

What lay before him was a history, Munin’s and Daunts alike. Beautiful and tragic and inspiring. A story even he could not have written. Two white snakes slowly emerged from the center of the carved tree, slithering down onto the stone around them, pulling the gate open with the ends of their tails. The path continuing ahead was neatly cobbled with clean white stones forming various patterns. As they moved, lush forests and blooming plants hung from the treetops, and the sound of rustling bushes and animals chittering followed them.

Out of the trees, white whisps in the form of wolves darted out, exploding against Dream’s feet and cloak in a puff of white mist that left small white particles hanging off his clothes. He chuckled as he watched the whisps lovingly weave through Lucienne’s legs. Daunt’s previous companions, their spirits at least, seemed to have also found their way to this new realm. Sirius sat at the base of a great bridge, waiting for them. He offered him no bow or grand greeting as he stood and began walking.

“My lady is this way,” Sirius instructed, leading the Dream King and his librarian across the bridge to stand before the grand palace of The Great Tree. Dream examined the markings of the bark, eyes fixing on the woman carved in black. Daunt. Her voice echoed like a song through the large doorway as Sirius continued forward.

Her throne room was a stark contrast to his. Bright with natural light and filled with the humming of spirits, beings coming and going freely. It was warm and safe and everything he’d felt when he’d been lucky to stand beside her. Munin sat upon a wooden throne of twisted and curled antlers, lounging beneath a canopy of greenery and mist that somehow created the pool that separated them. In her lap, three children clamored as more sat beside her feet, watching in wonder as she wove the mist into shapes and figures. Two sat on either side of her, happily braiding flowers into her hair.

His heart threatened to burst from within his chest at seeing her surrounded by children. Is this what would greet him should they be blessed with their own children? Dream swallowed, once again forcing himself not to shout his profession of love across the room to her. “And there standing between our mighty adventures was the winged beast.” The mist took the shape of an odd creature with giant bat wings but a bull body. “The beast reared its head, spewing fire, smoke, and ash from its mouth as it charged forward.”

“Oh no!”

“Move out of the way!”

“I can’t watch!” The children all cried out over one another.

Munin smiled. “And just as all seemed lost…” She waved her hand, building a creation of vines and roots. “The Forest Guardian caught the beast in its hand and hurled it back to the cold dungeons of the mountain.”

The children cheered, jumping up and down in her lap. “What about the adventures?”

Sirius continued across the path of lily pads. “Well, the adventures got back on their feet and continued with their mission, of course.”

“But the fairy lady is hurt!”

“Oh, she pushes through,” Sirius replied, nuzzling the children’s cheeks. “What matters is they remained together.”

Munin shared a knowing look with her companion before her eyes lifted, and she sat up straighter at the sight of him. “You did not tell me he’d arrived.”

“Dream of The Pretentious is here, my lady.” The wolf mocked.

“How helpful you are, my star,” Munin replied. “Children, our guest has arrived! Lord Morpheus may perhaps be able to entertain us.”

His head tilted as he slowly crossed the water to join you. “You seemed to be faring quite well without me, Lady Munin.”

“True, but I am no Prince of Stories.”

The children hopped to their feet, crowding around his long legs and inspecting his coat. “You’re a prince?”

Dream looked down at the child with gentle eyes. “I am a king.”

They murmured amongst themselves. “Do you have a castle?”

“I do,” he answered. “It resides in a far-off land of dreams and nightmares.”

“And an abundance of sand.”

“There are nightmares in your castle?” One child wondered. “Isn’t that scary?”

Munin smiled, carrying a child on her hip as she moved closer to him. “It can be,” Dream answered. “But I’ve found that some of the most gentle beings are ones forged of darkness.”

Her eyes sparkled as she shooed the children away from him, instructing them to take Lucienne on a palace tour while she and Dream spoke. Munin showed him the village and introduced him to the spirits that now resided within her realm. “They are those forgotten by the world. Whether that be a feeling of unfulfillment or an unmarked grave, they passed here in death and now live to help this world remember.”

“There are a great number of children,” he noted, watching a group of them bring flowers to Munin.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Innocent beings such as them are often the ones forgotten quicker. It’s deplorable… A child should never be forgotten.”

He felt a twinge of his own pain mingle with her words. A child should never be forgotten. “At least now they will know the love their lives lacked.”

She offered him a smile as they continued forward, weaving through the growing town and deeper into the forest. The longer they walked, the older the trees seemed to grow until they came upon a small grove with seven old trees, all decorated with unique things hanging from their branches. The first was draped in paper. Pages with writing as old as the world itself. The second held statues of varying sizes, shapes, and colors within them, nearly outnumbering the leaves. The third is where they stopped. Stars hung from the tree, twinkling and shining even brighter as he approached it.

“This is your tree,” Munin said. “It holds your memories.”

“The others, I assume, are my siblings.”

“Yes,” she answered. “Though I’ve not explored them.”

He looked at her with a slight smile and a brow lift. “Have you explored mine?”

She blushed. “Somewhat. Only what remains here, on the surface.”

“Is there more?”

Stepping forward, you waved your hand, the roots curling up and exposing the path down below, the memories that he held most closely to him. “Lucienne believes that traversing within your memories will help me recover mine.” You looked back at him as he hesitated to follow you into the dark earth. “We do not have to if you are worried.”

Dream merely smiled. “If you were going to smite me, it would not be in the dark.”

You would have laughed at the notion of you warring with such a powerful and ancient being. But the Dream Lord's hand slid into yours, and all thought was replaced with a memory. The two of you stood before the mouth of a cave. You smiled at him, offering up your hand with a teasing tone, “Come now, Dream Lord, if I’d wanted to smite you, I’d not do it in the dark.”

Leading him down into the deep roots of his memory, you watched him closely, hand still twined with his as he admired the jewels hanging, radiating memory. “It is beautiful.”

“Yes,” you breathed, forcing your eyes away, along with the thoughts of how soft he was brushing up against you. “The roots of your memory run deep, as do all of The Endless. Your roots are twined with the very fabric of the world just as The Great Trees.” Then, reaching up, you ran your fingers along some of the roots and crystals, causing Dream to shiver beside you. “The memories we see here are ones you hold with pride and joy. Memories of your creations and your victories.”

“I’m assuming those are not the ones we seek.”

“No,” you answered. “We are here for those you remember with great sorrow or shame. The memories of you and Daunt.”

A look passed over his face as he stared down at you, eyes glowing like moons. “Why do you wish to see them? You and Daunt are separate beings, are you not?”

You shook your head. “No. Daunt is me. A part of me that I’ve been cut off from.” With a sigh, you looked ahead to the path. “We have spent too long apart from one another. Split and torn asunder to dwell within this world feeling half-formed. I do not wish to be condemned to the life she was forced to live.”

“You will not be,” he assured you, hand squeezing yours. “I would see to it you never feel the way she did.”

“That is why we are here, is it not?”

That small smile made yours grow as he answered, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Then think of her,” you instructed. “Think of your time with Daunt so I might be able to see her life, the parts of it missing from me, through your eyes.”

Dream did as you asked, the roots shifting, leading you down further into the recesses of his mind. You gazed upon frail white peonies that lined the pathway and large vines of royal blue hydrangea that hung from the roots above your head. As you passed, the flowers opened their faces, voices echoing around you. Dreams and yours, hers. As you ascended the steps, a cold light broke through the surface ahead and emerged within Dream’s memories.

The memory before you was the first time he’d visited your realm. You remembered it, remembered the ache that had settled in Daunt’s lungs as she turned to greet him coldly. He had demanded you to ignore your function, and you’d laughed at him.

“Why must you be such a Burden?” There was that word again and the feeling that came with it. Cold prickles consumed your spine. Beside you, Dream’s face cast down into a mournful expression.

“Do you think I asked for this? Do you think I enjoy bringing people this feeling?” Your voice sounded so cold, so angry. “I am what I am, not by choice or out of pleasure but simply because it is the role that was given me by whatever fucking powers that made me. If I could trade places with you and inspire the minds of men, I would… You’ve gotten what you came for. Now go.”

“Bur-” He stopped himself from completing the word. “Daunt.”

Cold frost glossed over your eyes, quickly covering the split second of vulnerability you… she had shown him. “Leave.”

Dream took a step forward when thick roots wound around his legs and pulled him back into his realm, and everything turned to mist, shifting around both of you as another memory was built. “Why did you call us a burden? When did this name become the one you associated with us?”

“Burden is what I called you after it became clear you would not vanish.” His admittance was outwardly cold, but the depth of his words was something you could feel. “I long thought you to be a punishment of sorts. Another task for me to manage.”

“A burden upon your shoulders.”

He stepped closer to you, the soft material of his coat brushing against your arm. “I do not think that now… I do not know if I ever even truly believed it. I was simply… surprised by you and frightened.”

You looked up at him with gleaming eyes. “You were frightened of me?”

He smiled. “You are rather terrifying.”

“Only when I have to be,” Daunt’s voice layered on top of yours as the next memory came to life.

This was when you’d shown him your realm and the minor improvements it had made because of your more profound connection to it and yourself. Acceptance had been the key to Daunt’s existence within the wooded realm, so different from what you knew. Dream had given her that… given you that.

The disorder of the memories made your head spin for a moment as the pier came next, the night that had plagued your mind keeping you from a restful sleep. The sapphire waters were as beautiful as they had been the night you’d journeyed to his realm, but the two of you stood far more rigidly this time. “Daunt… please speak with me.”

“I’ve nothing left to say to you, King of Nightmares.” You had spit the title at him so venomously you’d nearly flinched yourself.

“I… I regret my actions all those years ago.” A vision of Dream standing before you amidst a forest of dark trees, his hand curled around your throat, and hatred shining in his eyes played before you. “My brother’s decision affected me more than I thought, and I was… I was looking for a way to release it.”

“Fortunate for you that you just so happened to know where the cosmic mistake resides.”

“That is not what you are,” the memory of him answered. You could feel the insult of it bubble in your chest, swallowing that grain of broken hope that he’d meant it.

“You’ve made it quite obvious what you think of me. You and Desire see me as little more than a thorn in your sides, a mistake, a burden meant to make your lives miserable.”

Dream was quiet beside you, watching you more than the memory. “Perhaps that is what I thought of you once. But I see now that I was wrong.”

“You see now? Don’t insult me.”

“Let me show you then? Please?”

As you moved through his realm into the Waking World, you watched the memory shift. You watched him show you what the creators had thought of you… a guiding hand more than a hindering one. A helper along their journey instead of a burden. And then you were back on the docks, watching everything between the two of you shift. Your wishes, vulnerability, and innocence made everything come snapping back to you. “I remember this…”

The memory shifted to the last… the one that Dream of the Endless felt the most guilty and remorseful for. “No… Even if you are, it will not be the same. It will not be you.”

“This is what I want, Morpheus… It is what I spent so many long nights wishing for… to be different. To be born again as something better, something good. I do not want to live the rest of this long life as a mistake… as a burden.”

“You were never that.” You watched tears stream down his cheeks as his hands flexed to keep from pulling you into him. “Please…”

“I wish to be as I was meant to be. I can feel something greater waiting… but first, I must surrender this form. This may not have been my choice then, but it is now.”

Looking over at Dream, whose eyes remained glued to the weak and dying body you’d left behind, you felt not only your own pain but his. He thought he’d failed you… thought he’d doomed you to your fate by not finding you fast enough. All this time, his final memory of you had been one etched in sorrow and regret. It had not been as you intended.

“May I trouble you with one last dream to lay me to sleep?” You had asked him. “Would you grant me that?”

“I would grant you everything.” You felt how deeply he meant it, felt how true the words were.

The pier once again came into view before you, a welcoming sight to a dying being. “I remember this place. It has been so long since I’ve felt this.”

He could hardly look at you as he asked with tears building in his eyes, “If you could go anywhere, where would it be? Tell me, and I shall make it so.”

“I would walk among the stars one last time,” you had answered, though now you could feel the words you’d not spoken… the admittance that the dream itself mattered not, so long as he was there beside you in the end.

Dream stepped closer to you as he watched the memory of him wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his dark chest. “Open your mind to me.”

Stars, endless shining stars, twinkled in the radiant cosmic clouds and filled the space of his memory, brighter than they had been in yours. But Dream only looked at you. He was studying everything about you, you now realized. Committing you to his memory.

You watched as the memory of you wiped away the tears of the Dream Lord. “This is not the end. It is a new beginning... Perhaps one for both of us. It is good.”

“I will not see you again.”

“Of course, you will,” you assured him. “You will see me, Dream of the Endless. You will see me in the mist over the water. You will see me in white clouds and in books with empty pages. You will see me in your precious dreamer’s masterpieces.” You reached out, brushing your fingers along the back of his hand, looking up into his eyes as he tore them away from the memory. “When I return, we will see one another again.”

“It will not be the same you that stands before me now.”

“Change is a part of life. You will also be different when we next meet.”

“Daunt… All this time... All the years I was imprisoned, all I wanted was to see you again. And now that I have that...”

“Hold onto those words, my Dream. Hold onto them and tell me when we meet again.”

Dream stepped closer to you, mimicking the memory as he set his forehead against yours and said in unison, “I will hold them forever if I must.”

You could feel your old body growing weaker as you leaned into his gentle touch, closing your eyes to listen to the last request you had asked of him. “Kiss me, Morpheus. So I might remember the feel of your lips on mine and carry it with me to whatever life awaits me.”

“I remember,” you whispered into him. “All of it.”

The memories faded, and you found yourselves back within your realm, holding one another beneath the old tree of the Endless being. The sun began to set over the emerald trees, and the two of you carefully pulled away from one another. Dream pressed a kiss to your hand as he bowed. “It is time for me to depart.”

You wanted to ask him for a kiss… Wanted to act on the centuries, eons, of memories that now filled your mind with him and him alone. “Perhaps tonight will be the one I find my way to dream,” you said instead. “Perhaps I will see you there.”

“I am but a call away, my lady.”

“Goodnight, Morpheus.” The words left unspoken hung on your tongue as both of you watched one another, now nothing barring you from speaking them but your own foolish nervousness. I love you still.

“Goodnight, Munin.” Dream’s eyes shined brightly as he took a step away, hoping you’d be able to see the words he’d been holding onto for so long now he did not know how to speak them to you without foregoing all notions of duty and function and honor. I love you.

That night you laid your head on the soft pillows, staring up at the glittering canopy of leaves and starlight. Sirius snored at your feet, curled on the bed beside you, relaxed and dreaming. You were nervous about closing your eyes. Nervous about submitting to the unconscious power of dreams and nightmares. What would you see in this dream, your first dream? Would he truly seek you out among the billions of dreamers within his care?

Foolish, you chided yourself driving your eyes to close and quietly waiting for sleep to consume you.

When it did, you were pleasantly surprised to be flying. Your raven form glided through the puffy white clouds, a gentle wind caressing your face as your soul soared. You flew for what felt like hours before landing in a meadow of soft grass, a plume of feathers floating in the air as your normal form emerged with an ethereal pair of wings hanging from your back. Smiling, you ran your fingers through the white feathers, hugging as the motion tickled.

The meadow was gorgeous. Green with vibrant flowers and a crystal clear pool of water that sparkled in the orange, pink and yellow hues of the rising sun. As you looked across the great plane, your thoughts drifted to the being behind such beauty.

“Morpheus,” you called out softly. “Are you there? Can you find me within the well of dreamers?”

From across the realms, he heard you. At first, only the sound of his name slipping from your sweet lips, but then he heard your voice whisper, “Find me.” His heart nearly stopped as fear consumed every step he took. He knew it was unlikely you’d found danger so soon after his departure, but he’d heard this call one too many times. He’d not ignore it, not after what befell you last time.

Finding your dream among the vast multitude of mortals was far easier than most would think. He knew you, knew what you felt like and sounded like. He knew what your dreams looked like better than anyone, especially after the years he spent forging them by hand.

As he entered the misty outer wall of the dream, he felt his form shift. His clothes and hair resembled that of the attire he’d worn hundreds of years ago during one of his meetings with Hob Gadling. Leather lined his body, tight and chilled with his skin, and the familiar weight of his ruby hung around his neck as he ventured deeper into the meadow of soft grass and a sky, half of starlight and deep blue night and of golden sunrise and soft white clouds. It was peaceful here, the wind light and gentle as the sound of rippling water echoed in his ears. It reminded him of Fiddler’s Green, though this was different.

There rising up from the sparkling water Munin appeared like the first glimpse of sunlight peeking over the horizon of a long night. Two wings of blinding white spread on either side of her, dripping with water as it ran off the silken exterior of the feathers. The simple nightgown she wore glistened with hues of gold and pink, and orange as she quietly rose from the water, but Dream had a difficult time focusing on anything but the sight of her body beneath the now sheer fabric.

The Dream King’s eyes slowly traveled down the length of your body, admiring every curve of your body accentuated by the sheer, wet fabric that clung to you. He sucked in a deep breath, forcing his eyes to tear away from the peaks of your breasts before the sight of the soft, ample flesh plainly visible beneath your slip made the urge to touch you grow too great for even him to contain. You were practically bare before him.

White feathers ruffled, bringing a spray of water to hang around you like frozen jewels. Your eyes were bright and shimmering like the sun over water metal his, and for a moment, he felt like you’d stolen the very breath from his lungs. “Lord Morpheus,” you said quietly. “I did not think one such as yourself would care to greet me in my first dream.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, swallowed the heated words it contained. “Apologies. I did not intend to intrude, Lady Munin.”

You smiled with a gentle tilt of your head. “Can you intrude if it is a dream? I thought such was your domain.”

“It is,” he answered, casting his eyes away from you as you ventured closer to him. “But individual dreams are intimate things. I do not venture within them lightly.”

“Then why venture into mine?”

Starlit eyes met yours as he answered, sweet and gentle. “Because I heard your voice call to me. I thought…”

The crown of stars shifted, consumed for a quick moment by memories of Daunt’s demise… Of all her calls to him left unanswered. “Forgive me,” you said. “I did not mean to worry you.”

Dream pushed the memory’s away, once again casting his beautiful eyes elsewhere. “Did you need something, my Lady?”

“Do you find me ugly, Lord Morpheus?” You asked, examining his tight face, great white wings curling toward him as though they’d wished to embrace him as you did.

“No,” he answered, eyes boring down into yours, the stars within them quaking.

With a simple tilt of your head, you inquired further, “Then why are you so adamant about looking anywhere else but me?”

“I look elsewhere for fear that if my gaze lingers too long, I shall want for more than just the sight of you.”

You hummed quietly, a thoughtful sound that shouldn’t have made him burn with want but did. “Do you wish to touch me?”

“That is hardly-”

“Because I wish to touch you,” your soft admittance nearly brought him to his knees. It was why your thoughts, your being, had called out to him in this lovely dream. Ever since he’d departed from your realm, all you could think of was him. Was the accidental touches and the way each of them made the longing in your heart ache more.

Dream forced himself to refrain as he quietly said, “This is your dream, Lady Munin. You may do as you wish.”

You wasted no time lifting a hand to run along the shining dark leather of his fine attire, the feeling of longing within your chest stilling as you touched him, replaced with a powerful thrum of want. He was soft, softer now that you’d actually meant to touch him. You moved your hand up, watching the great Endless being practically shaking with restraint beneath your palm. “You say I may do as I wish, but does this plain not belong to you?” You asked as your fingertips brushed against the skin of his neck, lightly tracing up his throat until you reached his lips. “Is this not a dream conjured into being by your power?”

“I could change it,” he admitted against your fingertips. “But this is your dream. Brought to life within your mind, and I would not steal away your control over your own unconsciousness, not ever.”

“A relief,” You said. “For I do not wish this dream to end. It is far easier to touch you here, where you’re not like to pull away from me as though my touch burns you… Where it’s not entirely real.”

Something in his eyes shifted as a slight shadow darkened over his form. He took a step forward, placing himself right up against you. The chill that swept over your peaked your nipples beneath your gown even more as you stared up at him with a gasp. “Does this not feel real?” He inquired, voice echoing… a thing of dreams and nightmares and something so entirely other you could hardly understand it.

He slowly lifted a hand to touch you, lithe fingers brushing against one of your wings, gliding along the silken feathers and bringing a rush of pleasure down your spine. “Do you not feel my touch?” His hand continued, moving down your neck to brush against one of your nipples. “Does my voice not echo through your soul as your voice did mine to call me here?”

With a soft breath against him, as your hands found purchase against the thick chilled leather of his chest, you replied, “It does… I do.”

“Was this your wish this night, fair Lady Munin?” he asked, fingers mirroring yours as they ran up the valley between your breasts and the length of your throat, his fingers brushing against your jaw. “To feel me.”

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. “I have wanted to feel you for longer than even I can remember.” With a gentleness that made Dream want to weep, you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks. “Mighty King of Nightmares,” you whispered, soft, warm breath fanning across his lips. “Prince of Stories,” you leaned in closer, drawing him into you with nothing but your sweet voice. “I would feel you, mind, body, and soul, if you would only let me.”

His hand cupping your jaw stilled you from pressing your lips to his as the shadow seeped back into him and the dream rippled around you. “I will not have you here. I will not sully your first dream with my own selfish wants. Nor will I risk you forgetting what has transpired this night.”

You merely smiled. “I am Keeper of Memory. I would not forget this… not a moment of it.”

“That may be, but my answer remains the same.”

“Will you grant me one request then?” You asked.

Dream chuckled. “I would grant you anything.”

“Kiss me,” you said. “So I might once again remember what your lips feel like on mine.”

He leaned forward, closing the distance between you to seemingly grant you your request, but just as your lips brushed against his, his eyes beamed down at you, lips tugging up into the thinnest smirk you’d ever seen. “I will kiss you when next we meet, my little forest queen. But, for now,”

“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

The velvet sensation of his lips just barely sparking against yours made you dig your nails into his leather chest as he whispered, ever the smug and self-important Dream you’d once known, “This dream is over.”

You awoke in your bed, the soft canopy of leaves overhead and the wooden bed posts curling with vines and flowers. Breathing out a short breath, you sat up, the feeling his touch still lingering on your skin as you shook your head with a scoff. “That bastard!”

Sirius’ head lifted from the bottom of the bed as he turned to look at you. “Nightmare, my lady?”

“Yes,” you replied. “A very annoying one.”

If it was Dream’s hope to bait you into seeking him out… begging him for a mere kiss, then he’d be left just as frustrated and wanting as you. You’d wait him out as long as that took.

Bent over the library table, Dream listened to Lucienne’s research, albeit halfheartedly. His librarian had poured herself into finding more information on the part of you that predated even Daunt, this Memory. She had many interesting theories, but none were as interesting as the image of you, wet and wanting beneath his touch. Your dream had plagued his thoughts all day.

He’d thought you would come to his realm in search of the kiss he’d dangled in front of you, but it would seem you were either busy or too proud to give in to his teasing. Either way, he was miserable. Dream wanted nothing more than to turn back time and kiss you when you’d asked him for it, to do far more than simply kiss you… his want was little more than a sinful carnal need to have you moaning beneath him.

As Lucienne’s voice faded from his ears and he let his mind drift into the memory of the dream, making changes to improve it, you heard his voice echo within your realm. “I did not intend to intrude, Lady Munin.”

You followed the sound of his voice through the trees, walking to the ancient grove where his tree was alight with stars. Tilting your head, you ventured forward, moving through the roots and out to the other side. He was recalling your dream… though in his mind, he’d changed some aspects, added more sunlight to kiss your skin, and, if possible, made the material of your gown far sheerer. This was more than a memory, but not quite a dream.

With a smile, you watched from the edges of the meadow as events played out similarly to the event in question. Finally, when the hazed vision of you was chest to chest with the Dream Lord, you couldn’t help yourself. You assumed the memory in front of you, staring into Dream’s eyes as he played through the memory of your dream. Then, with an unscripted smirk, you tilted your head, breaking the events he knew. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Munin?” He asked softly, color rising to his cheeks as he leaned back.

With a smugness born of Dreams teasing, you looked around at the memory mixing with dreams. “Are you fantasizing about me, Morpheus?”

He pulled his hands behind his back with a thin smile. “It seems rather pointless to deny the obvious.”

“How flattering,” you purred. “And here I thought you’d take more pride in leaving me weary and wanting.”

You could see the smugness on his face. “Perhaps I did,” he admitted, watching you as you circled him. “But then you did not come to my realm in search of your kiss.”

“Is that what you’d hoped for?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“I am terribly sorry to disappoint you, Dream Lord. I was merely trying to teach you a lesson.”

His eyes swirled with darkness as he tilted his head to the side, and the deep chuckle that vibrated through the very fabric of the fantasy sent a shiver up your spine. “Is that so?” Stalking forward, the dark figure towered over you, crowding the very air you breathed. “Did I leave you so weary and wanting that you would stoop to punishing me, my lady?”

You held his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes. You did.”

“My apologies,” he teased, the tone of his voice lowering to little more than a heated whisper against your skin. “I would ask for your forgiveness.”

“I would have you kneel for it,” you taunted.

With a chuckle, he tilted his head to the side. “Was my transgression so great?”

Your hands clutched one another behind you as you kept the sinful noises you wished to let loose buried within your throat. “It was. I was under the impression you’d come to make my dreams come true.” You shook your head. “And yet you cruelly denied me the simplest of requests.”

“Cruel am I? I offered you what you sought,” he countered. “You were the one that chose not to seek me out.”

“You’d have me beg you, King of Dreams?” You asked.

“I would very much enjoy the sound of you begging,” he answered.

You shook your head. “I’ve no doubt of that. But I will have you be the one to do the begging.”

He hummed, eyes dragging down your body lazily. “You forget, this is my fantasy. I can do things that would make me far more… as you say, smug.”

The thin slip was gone in an instant, your delicate skin now exposed to the slightly chilled air radiating off Morpheus as he held your gaze. The white wings on your back curled around your front, shielding you from the breeze. You answered him with an arched brow and a scoff, “You forget you are not the only being that can shift the unconscious mind. And fantasies are dreams mixed with memory.”

You blinked, and his clothes were gone. The smooth planes of his silken skin glistened in the falling light as he leaned further into you, seeking out the warmth of your body. You lifted your hand, trailing it down his throat and chest, traveling lower until his resolve broke. His hand caught yours, forcing it to settle on his abdomen, and his eyes turned wild, drinking in the sight of you, winged and bare before him. Then, with his free hand, he lifted it to your hair, running his fingers along one of the strands that framed your face. “You are a wicked thing.”

“Only when I need to be.”

“Now, who is being cruel?” He questioned, gently pulling you in closer. Face to face, chest to chest, you and the Dream Lord stared at one another until he finally whispered, “Come to me, my fair and wicked lady. Come, and I shall give you the kiss you wanted.”

Your eyes cast down to his lips. “Apologize.”

He let loose an amused breath as he raised his hands to cup your face. “I would make amends in person.”

“Ready to beg?”

“If it will get you here,” he replied. “I shall even kneel.”

You smiled wider. “Perhaps I shall show you a similar kindness.”

Dream’s hands gripped your face tighter as he closed his eyes. “Come to me. Please.”

“As you wish,” you whispered against his lips, meeting his eyes. “Time to focus now, my Dream. Lest you forget your dear librarian’s presence.”

Dream opened his eyes to find himself still within the library, Lucienne’s soft and slightly concerned voice pulling him from his own mind. “My lord? Is everything alright?”

He burned with need. “Yes,” he forced the words out. “Everything is fine. Excuse me, Lucienne. I have something I must see to.”

Turning on his heel, he quickly fled the library, using the walk to his chambers to calm his racing heartbeat and nerves. He threw the door open and nearly groaned at the sight of Munin standing in his room, white wings wrapped around her bare body, just as he’d left her. She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I let myself in… I hope that’s alright.”

“It is,” he answered, closing the door behind him as he joined her in the room. “Tell me, fair Munin, what can I offer to make amends for my cruel behavior?”

“You already know,” you said, turning to close the distance between the two of you, soft eyes looking up at him and practically glowing.

“I would hear you speak it again,” he prompted, stepping closer… chest to chest with her. “Here, awake, where the sweet sound of your voice is not distorted by a dream.”

“Kiss me,” you replied. “Kiss me, and I shall forgive you.”

Morpheus smiled, hands moving to cup your face. “Is that all you wish of me?”

“For the moment,” you replied, wings falling away from you, revealing yourself to him. Your hands took fistfuls of his coat to keep him from vanishing again. “We’ll see how good of a kiss you offer.”

When your lips pressed against his, you realized why it’d been one of your dying requests. His hands slid back into your hair, securing you against him as you moved your lips against his. Soft and gentle with an underlying need that made both of you want to shake. His lips were heavenly… sinful in how they masterfully coaxed your mouth open, allowing his chilled tongue to sweep into your mouth.

He tasted rain, sweet berries, and a tang of something you couldn’t even put into words. Your breaths mingled with one another as both of your hands grabbed and pulled, desperate to become one in every way imaginable. His breath fanned across your face as he pulled away to look down at you with dark eyes. “Satisfied?”

“No,” you whined. “I want more of you.”

“You have all of me,” he answered, eyes trailing down your body with an appreciative gaze. “Am I forgiven?”

You took hold of his chin, forcing his eyes back to yours. “I believe I was promised kneeling.”

In a second, he was bare before you, the chiseled planes of his body practically glowing like some ethereal being of light. His hands trailed down your spine, gently running along the tips of your wings and then back down to grip your hips. He squeezed them in his hands for a moment before slowly dipping his head into the crook of your neck, kissing his way down your body until he knelt before you. Then, slowly lifting your leg up, his eyes flashed to yours. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” you whispered, anticipation settling across your skin in goosebumps. “You are what I want, Morpheus.”

A true smile spread across his lips as he kissed your stomach. “I’ve waited so long to feel you. I shall cherish every second of this.” He lifted your leg over his shoulder, biting into the flesh of it for a minute before turning his head and licking a slow and deliberate strip up your slit, teasing the little pearl at the apex of your thighs for a moment before he pulled away a drew in a deep breath. “You taste divine.”

Breathlessly your ass hit his bed as he threw your other leg over his shoulder and dove back between your thighs, teeth, and tongue, exploring every inch of you. The sensation was far greater than anything you’d ever felt. The memories of past lovers’ touches faded beneath his. Morpheus exceeded them in every way… you’d not be able to live without his touch now, not for one moment.

His tongue twirled around your clit as his fingers pumped deep inside you, forcing lewd noise after lewd noise from your throat. You gasped and clawed at his messy black hair, pulling the roots to ground yourself amidst the continuous wave of pleasure he brought you with his mouth. You’d thought of what this would be like for so long… longer than you’d even been, and now that you were here, holding him by the hair while he pleasured you with his mouth, you could hardly breathe.

You came too many times to count before Morpheus released you from his iron-clad hold and kissed his way up your body, lavishing each of your breasts before he brushed your hair away from your face and beheld you with a gaze you could only describe as awe. Finally, you stroked his cheek and offered him a breathless smile. “I forgive you now.”

“So soon?” He questioned with a smirk. “I’ve only just begun.”

Both of you knew it had been hours already, but Dream of the Endless was nothing if not a thorough lover. He rose to his feet, bringing his hard, weeping member right into your waiting hands. You stroked him gently, watching his face twist into poorly concealed ecstasy. Then, leaning over, you licked along his slit before circling the head of his cock with a warm wet tongue.

His hands gripped your hair similarly to how you had gripped his, but he carefully pulled you back, looking down at you with dark eyes. “I am the one in search of atonement, my lady. I am the one that will worship you.”

“Very well,” you said, carefully running your hands up his abdomen. “Show me what the worship of an Endless is then, my Dream.”

He carefully lowered you onto your back with one last stroke down the silken white feathers. The wings evaporated, filling the air around you and Dream with feathers. This did little to slow him as he hovered over you, reconnecting your mouth to his in a needy and sinful battle between your tongues. You could taste yourself on him like a sweet honey.

His hands cradled your hips as he settled between your thighs, rubbing his aching member through your slick folds. Dark eyes watched you, the stars within them exploding as he set his forehead to yours. Then, pulling him back down by his dark locks, you devoured his lips, tugging one between your teeth until he groaned into your mouth. His grip on you would bruise, and you would let it, cherishing every mark he left.

One swift thrust of his hips was all it took for him to enter you. The stretch of him burned in a way that felt right. Your head fell back against his soft sheets as his settled onto your chest, his cold, ragged breaths bringing goosebumps to your skin. His hips settled flush against yours, and he lifted his head, holding himself up on one arm to stroke your face with his free hand.

Why had the two of you wasted so much time fighting when you could have been doing this? Why had you resisted so intently all the times before now where the urge to kiss him - to claim him - had been so strong? You were a fool. And so was he.

“I love you,” the words left your lips as a humble… A sincere admission that you couldn’t have stopped now even if you’d wanted to.

Morpheus smiled down at you, running his fingers over your cheek. “I’ve held onto these words for so long… I do not know if they will be enough now.”

You pressed your fingers to his lips, tears welling in your eyes. “Then do not say it… Show me.”

His head settled against yours as he began to move his hips. The friction was more than enough to bring the burning hot pleasure building in your gut, but then Morpheus guided your hands to the top of his head… To the memories that swirled there like a galaxy forming as he focused on them.

You saw yourself through his eyes. Your smile and the way your eyes lit up. You saw every moment he admired your beauty or kindness, everything he loved about you. As tears rolled down your cheeks as the emotions long denied and buried mingled with the pleasure of him inside you, moving his hips against yours as he held onto you like you were his lifeline.

His own tears filled his eyes as you lifted your head to press a kiss to his, sharing the moments you viewed him in a similar light with him. You showed him how ethereal and cunning, caring, and utterly self-important he was. You showed him your love as he showed you his.

The pressure building inside you peaked as his lips pressed to yours, the words he’d not spoken more than evident. I always have and will always love you. You came with a desperate and strangled cry that was swallowed by his greedy mouth. The way your body hummed… Sang beneath him as he continued to pleasure you through your orgasm sounded far greater than any song composed. Greater still was the sound that slid from his lips as his hips stilled against yours, and he came inside you.

He brought you into his chest, congratulation to consume you in every way. Both of your labored breaths filled the space between you as you stared at one another. His soft fingers ran through your hair as the tears finally spilled from his eyes. “I love you, Munin.”

You breathed out a laugh, relief… Acceptance… The love you'd so desperately longed for was finally yours. “As I love you, Morpheus.”

Memory and dreams collided like an eclipse, and all that dreamt that night, dreamt of the being of cosmic creation and goddess of memory. That night they dreamt of love.

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