#if you want to bring something else IN ADDITION you can share your answer in the tags

[fattributes]

For this hypothetical, the drinks, plates, and dinnerware are already taken care of, and again, you're not allowed to turn up empty-handed.

Just like in real life, let's hope we won't choose to bring the same thing.

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

[roanofarcc]

FUNNY BUSINESS

pairing. tyler owens x boone’s sister!reader

summary. boone was a laid-back guy who only really had one, long-standing rule: his sister was off-limits to the wranglers. But tyler had a bad habit of rule-breaking.

 warnings. a curse or two, fem!reader, mentions of drinking/being drunk (not reader), suggestive jokes, bed-sharing.

word count. 4k || masterlist

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Dani said, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the side of the rig alongside Tyler and Boone. She and Tyler had their sights set on you as you concentrated on the options of the vending machine, oblivious to their attention. 

Boone furrowed his brows, having just been focused on the camera in his hands. “Who?” 

“You,” Dani answered. “You brought your hot sister all of the way out here to help us, and then tell us she’s off-limits. It’s cruel and unusual punishment, if ‘ya ask me.” 

A laugh bubbled up from Tyler’s throat, earning him a glare from Boone. “It’s not my fault none of you assholes can keep it in your pants.” 

It was Tyler’s turn to glare, playfully. “I’m a gentleman, Boone. Is it a crime to get to know her, you know, considering she’s a part of the team now?” 

With a sigh, Boone shook his head. “Just no funny business.” 

Tyler mock saluted. “Scouts honor.” 

Tyler was a gentleman; his momma had raised him as such. And despite his teasing, he did want to respect Boone’s words. But at the same time, you were the newest member of the Wranglers, and Tyler did want to get to know you since you’d be hanging around for at least that season. 

Boone had suggested to bring you on to help with the charity aspect of their storm-chasing. The t-shirt and other sales they made from their online audience went mostly to help victims of the storms they chased, and the rest went back into making the merchandise to sell. Boone said you’d be a good addition to help out with the business side of things, and he’d been right from what Tyler had seen so far. You were smart and quick, and were able to keep up with the rest of Wranglers as if you’d been a part of the team since the start. Tyler was impressed. 

But what really impressed him, was how caring you were. It was the first time you’d come along with them to help out a neighborhood that was hit hard by a tornado. Houses were leveled and the devastation was thick in the air from the moment they arrived. 

The Wrangler quickly got to work. Lily and Dexter started making sandwiches. Dani started walking around and passing out water bottles. Boone helped the injured to the ambulances that arrived. Tyler started making rounds, helping families find their missing pets or important objects in the rubble. But as he did so, he couldn’t help but watch you interact with the victims as well. 

A couple of kids from the neighborhood sat together in a clear patch of grass while their parents tried to salvage some of their belongings and figure out what to do next. They all looked teary-eyed, and faces pulled in frowns as they sat quietly, clutching stuffed animals or picking at the wet grass to distract themselves. You approached them, sitting down in the little circle they formed. 

Tyler couldn’t hear what you were saying to them, but your started to look more and more animated and the kids cracked small smiles. After a couple more moments, the kids’ moods looked to shift into something lighter despite the devastation around them. The somber air slowly became filled with giggles and kids’ voices overlapping excitedly. 

Tyler found himself smiling softly at the sight before he ventured over. “How’s it going over here?” he asked, earning your attention. 

“David here is telling us a very interesting story about a space alien,” you said, earning an enthusiastic nod from one of the younger boys in the circle. “You guys keep telling stories and I’m gonna go make sure no one else needs help, okay?” 

The kids all shared a series of ‘okays’ and ‘thank yous’ before you moved to stand up. Tyler outstretched his hand toward you, and you took it with a smile, letting him help you to your feet. Once you stood directly in front of him, he felt himself clam up slightly. He and Dani had made jokes in hopes of irritating Boone in regards to how attractive you were, but seeing you that close, in the after-storm sunlight, Tyler’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“Thanks,” you said, dropping your hand back at your side and gazing around at what else there was to be done in the neighborhood. 

He cleared his throat. “That was smart, keepin’ their minds off of…” he vaguely gestured around them, feeling a knot in his gut of pity for the poor families affected. 

You smiled sadly. “My parents used to do that with Boone and I. When we’d have to wait in the cellar, we’d all tell stories until the storm passed. The more outrageous the better,” you explained. 

“It seemed to work,” Tyler said, glancing at the circle of kids all sharing outrageous stories with laughter and smiles instead of the frowns they held a couple minutes ago. 

“Yeah, at least a little bit,” you said. There was a beat where Tyler didn’t know what else to say. Something over his shoulder caught your eye before you looked back to him and said, “I’m gonna go help Boone.” You sidestepped Tyler and left him in a slight daze. 

He whispered a string of curses under his breath once he was out of earshot of the kids, and hurried back to the camper where the Wranglers were handing out food. 

“I’ve got a problem,” he muttered to his friends. 

Lily handed out another sandwich before eyeing him oddly. “A problem-problem or a you-problem?” 

“A me-problem.” 

“Ah,” she said. “Shoot, cowboy.” 

“It’s Boone’s sister,” he whispered, ensuring that only Lily, Dexter, and Dani heard him. “She’s…”

“Attractive? Yeah, I thought we already established that?” Dani said, opening another case of water. 

Tyler rubbed his forehead, an odd feeling twisting around inside his stomach. “It’s not just that,” he said. “She’s pretty, sure, but-” 

Lily cut him off with slightly wide eyes. “Oh no,” she said. 

Dexter furrowed his brows. “Oh no? Oh no, what?” 

“Tyler only, and I mean only, calls women ‘pretty’ when he has a crush on them. Some ole’ woman at a bar that’s makin’ eyes at him, he’ll call her ‘attractive’ or ‘easy on the eyes’ never ‘pretty.’ Pretty he saves for the ones he’s got a big fat school-boy crush on. And normally that’s all fine and dandy, but this is Boone’s sister we’re talking about, Tyler.” 

He hated how well Lily knew him. She read him like a book. 

Dexter whistled lowly. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“What’s unfortunate?” Boone said, approaching the group with you beside him. All of the Wranglers, aside from you two, looked at Tyler, which was anything but helpful. 

Boone was one of Tyler’s best friends, and he knew it was the right thing to listen to him. Besides, Tyler hadn’t known you long so maybe his ‘school-boy crush,’ as Lily had put it, would fade once he got used to having you around. 

Clearing his throat, Tyler shook his head. “Nothin’ important,” he said. “Let’s pass the rest of this food out before we head out for the night.” 

You adored your brother’s friends more than you thought you would. You’d watch the Wranglers’ livestreams, but it was different being around them in person. Their passion for storm chasing was admirable and how they helped those affected by the very storms they were in awe of was amazing. 

When Boone asked you to help out, you jumped at the opportunity. You certainly didn’t regret your decision, but you greatly underestimated the charm of Tyler Owens. You’d read the comments online, all ogling at the storm chaser, but it wasn’t just his looks that made him incredibly attractive. Tyler’s charm entered everything he did and said, but it was especially enticing when he talked about storms. When he got particularly excited, he spoke with his hands, lips pulled in a grin that was ridiculously mesmerizing. You could have listened to him talk about the weather forever, which was a problem. 

It felt foolish on your part; not only was Tyler one of your brother’s best friends, but you thought he was miles out of your league. He had people practically drooling over him in the comments of his videos and making eyes the second he stepped into a building. He was a personality, wild and loud, but with a sweet side to make him even more likable. You told yourself the little crush would pass, but you worried that if Tyler kept being so damn nice to you, it’d be years before that happened. 

“So, this is how storm chasers spend their off time?” you said, propping your elbows up on the bar before something sticky touched your skin. You recoiled in a grimace. 

A chuckle sounded from Tyler as he handed you a napkin. “Here,” he said. “And yeah, it’s the perfect way to unwind. Though, word of caution, don’t drink too much. Storm chasing hung-over is a different kind of hell.” 

You wiped someone’s spilled drink from your elbows and nodded. “Noted.” There was still a lot you had to learn about the ins and outs of storm chasing, but you were excited to learn. A silence passed between you two, the space filled with the bar chatter. The place was busy for it being in the middle of nowhere; the Wranglers said it was because most people were either dedicated locals or fellow storm chasers looking to relax a little. 

Your brother and the rest of the team were at the old-timey jukebox, picking out songs that they then danced to, loud and rowdy as ever. But Tyler didn’t join them. Instead, he sat at the bar nursing a beer. Before you arrived, he was talking to an old man on the other side of him, cracking jokes like he’d known the stranger for years. 

It was like each minute you were there with them, you uncovered something else about Tyler. And maybe it was a couple of sips of alcohol that were already affecting your system but felt like he should know that. 

“You know, you’re a little different than I thought you’d be,” you admitted. 

He studied for a moment with a gaze that made you nervous, but not in a bad way. “Oh yeah? How’d you think I was gonna be?” 

You shrugged. “I watch the lives, mostly to make sure Boone is okay, but online you seemed…” You weren’t sure of what the right word to use was. You settled on, “More intense, I guess.” 

A smirk crept across his lips. “And I am not intense enough for ‘ya?” 

Your face felt hot, and the busy bar wasn’t helping. You adverted your eyes down to your drink and tried to laugh off your fluster. “I just mean, I thought you’d be like all of the time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up and you’d all think I wasn’t a good fit.” 

The smirk fell from Tyler’s face and was replaced with a furrow of his brows. “Are you crazy?” he said. “We needed someone like you on our team. I know you just started, but I think you’re the best fit we could’ve picked.” 

“Careful,” you teased. “Too many compliments like that might go to my head.” Even though you were pretty sure he was just trying to make you feel better, there was something in his tone that was convincing. 

“What are y’all doin’?” Boone’s voice filled your ears and suddenly his arm was slung around both your and Tyler’s shoulders, forcing you two to lean in a little bit closer to one another, but with Boone sandwiched in the middle. Your brother’s breath smelled like beer and there was that goofy smile on his face he always got when he had one too many. “The party’s on the dance floor!” 

You glanced over at the ‘dance floor’ which was a little space the Wranglers had carved out in front of the jukebox. A couple others joined them, but it wasn’t anything too wild. 

Tyler shook his head and finished his beer. “Your ass is gonna be sorry tomorrow, Boone. I told you we’re leaving bright and early.” 

Boone patted Tyler’s cheek. “I’ll be just fine.” 

Boone was not ‘just fine’ the next morning. What he was a pain in Tyler’s ass, which resulted in him being demoted to the backseat and you prompted to the passenger seat. Maybe that wasn’t the best move for Tyler because while he was driving, he found himself slightly distracted by you. 

You sat with your attention fixed out the window, watching the plains roll by with admiration. Every so often you fiddled with the radio per Lily’s request, but other than that you were quiet, observing. 

“Can we take a pit stop?” Boone moaned. Tyler glanced at in the rearview mirror, face paled and eyes squeezed shut. 

Tyler sighed. “I swear, if you throw up in my truck, Boone…” Tyler muttered, straining his eyes down the road for any sign of a gas station, but there didn’t look to be anything close. 

“There’s not another stop for half an hour tops,” you said, searching on your phone. 

“Great, cool, yeah,” Boone said. “Then you may wanna pull over or else everyone’s about to have a real bad time in here.” 

Tyler quickly pulled off to the side of the road and Boone scrambled out, across the road to empty his stomach. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve got to tell him,” Tyler sighed. 

“He won’t listen,” Lily said, unbuckling and sticking her face between you and Tyler. “I’ll make sure he’s all right. You two keep an eye on the weather.” She hopped out, leaving you and Tyler alone. 

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, wracking his brain for something to say to you. Normally he had no issue talking to people, but he found himself second-guessing his words when it came to you. But you beat him to the punch. 

“He’s never been too good at holding his alcohol,” you said. “I can’t tell you how many times I had to pick him up because he got sick at some friend’s bonfire back in high school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get hangovers so badly.” 

“All a part of his charm, I guess,” Tyler joked. “Does it run in the family?” 

You shook your head. “No, neither charm nor hangovers. Boone’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.” 

Tyler steadied himself a little, finding that thread of confidence in the back of his mind. He gazed at you, taking in the pretty features of your face. “I think you’re wrong on the charming bit.” 

You looked surprised, eyes a little wider. “Me? Charming?” You scoffed. “No way.” 

“Charming, smart, pretty…” Tyler trailed off, waiting for a reaction from you to let him know if he had swung and missed. You looked down, averting your eyes and clearing your throat. Out the windshield, he saw two figures moving in his peripheral vision and before you got the chance to say anything back, Boone and Lily reentered the car. 

“That’s my bad, you guys,” Boone said. 

You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your brother. “Feel better?” 

“Oh, yeah. Ready to chase this son of a bitch!” And you all were off again. Tyler wished Boone and Lily had held out for one more minute. He wanted some kind of response from you, even if it was one telling him he had no chance. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and one he felt bad about having, but he couldn’t help it. You were something new, a little unknown, and unpredictable. If there was one thing Tyler was good at, it was chasing through his apprehension. But instead of a tornado, you had quickly become the storm occupying his mind. 

You knocked for the fifth time on Boone’s door and tried calling him again, but one thing about your brother was that he was one of the heaviest sleepers of anyone you’ve ever met. That paired with his hangover from the night prior left him not answering you. You cursed under your breath, ready to set up camp in one of the rickety pool lounge chairs. 

There was an unpleasant pair of cockroaches in your motel room and the thought of sleeping with them scurrying about was out of the question. Since none of the other Wranglers had left their rooms, you wondered if you were the only one to notice them or the only one who had them. Whatever the case was, you couldn’t sleep in your room and apparently, you couldn’t sleep in Boone’s either because he was fast asleep. You couldn’t remember where Dani and Lily's rooms were to ask to bunk them. 

It seemed like you were out of luck until the door next to Boone’s opened and a groggy Tyler stepped out. “What’s goin’ on?” he yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. 

You hugged your arms closer to your body. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“Sorta,” he answered and you felt immediately guilty. “But it’s all right. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay out here. What’re you doin’ up anyway? It’s the middle of the night.” 

“There are cockroaches in my room,” you sighed. “I was trying to see if I could crash with Boone, but he sleeps like the dead.” 

Tyler chuckled. “That he does.” There was a beat and silent contemplation. You were about to tell him you’d crash in the camper or the truck, but he nodded his head back toward his room. “Come on,” he said. 

You stood, confused for a moment. “You can crash with me. I don’t think my room has cockroaches but for both our peace of mind, I wouldn’t look around too hard.” 

You weren't sure if you were elated or embarrassed. Overall, you were tired, exhausted even, and any thought of declining fled your mind the second Tyler turned to walk back inside, assuming you were following. So, you did. 

Tyler patted the edge of the bed. “It’s all yours,” he said, gathering one of the pillows in his arms. 

“What’re you doing?” 

He tossed the pillow onto the floor. “Praying for no cockroaches for the next couple of hours.” 

“No, wait,” you rushed out. “You can’t sleep on the floor.” 

“It’s all good-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“No way. I’m not kicking you out of your bed in your room.” You glanced at the bed, feeling your face grow hot at the thought of what you were about to suggest, but you couldn’t let him spend the night on the floor. “We can just…share.” 

Tyler stared at you for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say. He shifted his gaze between the pillow on the floor and the bed before landing back on you. “Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Hesitantly, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off your shoes, trying to ignore the shift of weight on the mattress as sat down opposite of you. It wasn’t as big of a deal as your mind was trying to tell you it was. It was just two co-workers, borderline friends, sharing a bed so no one had to face any cockroaches. That was all it was. But even in the darkness of the motel room, you couldn’t help the quick beat of your heart as you crawled under the covers, with your back facing Tyler. He did the same and before you could convince yourself what you were doing was not a big deal at all, Tyler’s soft snores filled the room. It was oddly reassuring. You fell asleep not long after him, a clear space between you but something in the air that wanted to draw you two closer. 

For a moment, when he woke up, Tyler thought the exchange he had with you in the middle of the night had been a dream. But when he rolled over to find your sleeping face inches away from his, he realized it was very much real. Your eyes were softly closed and your lips slightly parted as you slept. He found himself admiring you for just a moment, until there was a loud knock on his door, forcing him to get up. 

He threw it open without thinking much about it. Boone greeted him with a slightly worried expression pulled on his face. “Hey, man what’s-” 

“Have you seen my sister? She called me last night a bunch of times, but I didn’t hear it. And when I went to her room no one answered,” Boone said, quickly cutting Tyler off. 

“Boone?” Your voice sounded from behind Tyler and as soon as he saw the several emotions flicker across Boone’s face, he realized he may have made a mistake. 

Boone’s gaze flickered between you sleepily sitting up in Tyler’s bed and Tyler. “Dude!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is going on here?” 

It must have registered with you too how the situation looked. You hurried out of bed and stood at Tyler’s side. “Wait, hold on-” 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said to you. “I said no funny business,” he then said to Tyler. 

“It’s not like that,” Tyler rushed out. “I know that it looks like that, but it’s not. I swear.” 

“He’s right,” you added. “It’s not. I needed a place to crash because there were bugs in my room, and you wouldn’t answer your phone. Tyler offered to let me stay in his. That’s all.” 

Boone didn’t look too convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, blowing air from his cheeks. “You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you arrived,” Boone said. Both you and Tyler tried to defend yourself, even if Tyler hadn’t been super subtle about his ‘googly’ eyes. But Boone cut you both off with a wave of his hand. “Save it. I know both of you. You,” he pointed to Tyler. “Are the least subtle person I know. And you,” he pointed at you. “Have been talking about him since I started chasing with him.” 

Your eyes widened almost comically as you sputtered over your response. “I-I have not!” 

“Look,” Boone started, taking a deep breath. “You’re both adults. But if you’re gonna get into any funny business, for the love of the Lord himself, do not do it around me. Got it?” 

“Okay,” you answered, catching Tyler off guard. He expected you to brush your brother off and force Tyler to face the reality that you had no interest in him, but you didn’t. 

Boone looked to him for his answer. “Y-Yeah.” 

“Good,” Boone said. “We’re leavin’ in fifteen.” He turned on his heel and left the two of you in the doorway. Once he was out of earshot, a laugh sounded from your lips, a sweet sound he wasn’t expecting. 

“God, that was embarrassing,” you said, still laughing at the situation. 

Tyler couldn’t help but laugh too, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone in his motel room once more. “Is that true? You talk about me?” 

You hung your head, sheepishly and shrugged. “Maybe.” The idea of you talking about him made him feel on top of the world. “Is what he said about you true? Are you really not that subtle?” 

“I did invite you to sleep with me,” he joked, taking a step closer to you. You didn’t move away but instead closed the distance between you two even more. He searched your eyes for a sign that you were thinking the same thing he was, and when your gaze flickered to his lips for only a second, he got his confirmation. 

Tyler hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards just slightly as he leaned in. He kissed you slowly, sweetly as you hung your arms around his shoulders to bring him in even closer, the two of you pressed chest to chest. He felt you smile against his lips, a blissful feeling he didn’t to end.

[controld3vil]

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

[writingwithfolklore]

Answering your Questions/Concerns about Free Editing

Thanks for sending in your questions about my free editing service! Here are some of the ones I've gotten so far:

I feel like I’d be taking advantage of you because it’s free:

              I don’t like the assumption that I’m a pushover. Okay just kidding, I appreciate this instinct, but you’re not really taking advantage of me given I’m offering the work! I also ask you to trust me that I can set my own boundaries and let you know if the scope of the project is too much for me to take on.

              Of course, if you’d really like to give back to me in some way I always accept tips, Instagram follows, or reblogs of my editing post/recommendations to your writing friends, but none are necessary!

Okay but what do you get out of it?

              Experience—I can put ‘freelance editor’ on my resume and back it up with examples. I can also log my hours as volunteer hours which will help me get scholarships to pay for my schooling. Lastly, I hope to build strong community bonds with you all and genuinely just want to help out—I’ve been very lucky to have formal training and mentors throughout my writing career, and I hope to provide that to those of you who haven’t had the same opportunities!

Will you look at fanfiction/non-original work?

              Of course! As long as it was written by you (and not AI-generated).

How do I know you and I will click style-wise?

              I work with writers of all different styles in my regular job, so editing styles that aren’t my own is something I have a lot of experience in. If you’re really worried about it, I will let you know right off the bat if I think I would be a good editor for you or if you should try someone else.

What if you hate my work?

              I won’t tell you, and I can still do my job as an editor to improve it without tearing it apart. I believe good editors can take any piece of writing and see its values and what it’s doing well in addition to its flaws. My job is to bring out what’s already working in your piece. Essentially, I promise I won’t be mean to you or your work no matter what I think about it.

Can you help me get published?

              I can certainly help guide you through starting the process, but I’m not an agent and can’t reach out to anyone for you. However, if you’d like to send me proposals or queries to look at, I’m happy to edit those as well!

Can you help promote my work/blog?

              I’m happy to reblog or share any of your projects or writing that I’ve helped you out with, for sure!

What if my work isn’t good enough?

              No judgement here! I’m happy to look at your first draft, your final draft, and every draft in between. The whole point of editing and getting another set of eyes on your work is to improve it, so send me anything, no matter what state it’s in!

Check out the guidelines here:

[control-z-my-decisions]

Now that you have answered the poll, I want to share something else. I made this blog to talk about cartoons, but today I want to use it to spread this Gofundme and this family's story:

Hello all,

I am Falestine Asad, I am 36 years old, married, and I have a three-month-old child named Youssef. I gave birth to him during the war during very harsh conditions that no human being can bear. I moved from the hospital immediately after giving birth, to the tent where we were staying after we were displaced when the Israeli bulldozers completely bulldozed my house. Kamel has become featureless, and my suffering did not start there. Rather, I have been suffering since the beginning of the war, and I am still suffering. I cannot provide enough milk or diapers for my baby. Even medicines and vitamins are not available.

I ask you for your urgent help in disseminating the link to my family and communicating it to people interested and able to help us. I didn't want to do it, but the tragic situation we are living in is what pushed me to do it. I feel sad and helpless, after we had everything, we are now homeless on the streets, living in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, dirt and waste everywhere, we sleep on it! We suffer from terrible heat, insects, scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, the danger of pollution and terrible diseases, especially the digestive, respiratory and reproductive systems!

My father and mother could not bear it any longer. My father had a stroke after losing his home and his place of work, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and needs treatment.

Do you have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this disappears in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age where you should rest, you are forced to start again!!? But the most important thing now is to try to survive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us! I ask everyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put themselves in our place. How can someone who has lived with dignity all his life accept this? We are slowly dying every day.

Your donation, no matter how small, can have a big impact. It can provide a meal for my little one, a clean bottle of water, or a moment of safety under these difficult circumstances. Every donation brings with it a ray of hope, alleviating our suffering and giving us the strength to face a new day.

I ask you to donate and support the steadfastness of the Gazan people, and share this campaign with your friends and families. Together, we can make a difference and help my family get through this ordeal.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity and support.

Warm greetings,

Falestine

[spnfanficpond]

SPN Rewatch: FanFic Edition

Our goal is to rewatch the show with fanfic writing in mind. We want to look for all the places in canon where we could add a scene, show a scene from a certain character’s point of view, or change something to make things turn out differently. (We may also critique what the show writers did; that seems inevitable.)

Episodes we're discussing: 3.09 Malleus Maleficarum and 3.10 Dream a Little Dream of Me

What time will it be for you:

UTC - Saturday 17:00

Los Angeles - Saturday 9am

New York - Saturday noon

London - Saturday 5pm

New Delhi - 10:30pm

Melbourne - Sunday 4am

Who’s invited? All Pond members, including Turtles! You don’t have to be a writer to have an opinion on the episodes that could inspire a writer! Everyone has valuable opinions about the show and could spark conversation and inspiration.

Where will we meet? In the discord server.  (You must be a member to be in the Discord server. Not a member? Fill out this form here.) There is a special channel for us to chat in so we don’t disturb other chats happening at the same time.

How does it work? On our own, whenever we have time, we all watch two episodes of SPN. At the appointed time, we all get together and chat about them. Although we have several questions to consider and creative ideas for you to do if you want, there is no pressure to actually have answers to these questions or have created anything prior to the chat. Didn’t get to watch them? No biggie! We’ve all watched these episodes enough that we can probably talk about them without rewatching them!

More info under the cut!

What questions should we consider while we watch? We have a few questions you can keep in mind while you’re watching the episodes:

Are there any “fanfiction gaps” in this episode? Any places between scenes where a juicy story could happen? (For example, one scene ends at night, but the next scene begins during the day, and what did they do with all of that time?)

How would the episode be different if you changed one thing? What is changed is up to you. It could be as complex as a character making a different choice, or as simple or silly as someone wearing a funny hat throughout part or all of the episode.

What about this episode would you like to see happen differently? How would making that change affect future episodes?

List any parts of each episode that you think could be jumping-off points for a fic. Like, in the pilot, how did Sam meet their friend who was in the bar with them?

How would the episode be different if there were another character involved like a reader insert character?

Do any of the themes we've already discussed in The Archive (See the bottom of the doc under the heading "Thematic docs") show up in this episode? Does this episode bring up any new themes we should be watching out for in the future?

What else can we do before the chat? You can add any notes you have about the episodes we'll be discussing to The Archives! In addition, besides just discussing the fanfiction possibilities in every episode, we also want to encourage you to create things centered around the episodes we’re discussing and share them with the rest of us. Things like:

Write some meta about some part of the episode. What does this episode show us about one or more of the characters?

Write a fic based on the episode. Share a link to your fic in the discussion and we can talk about it!

Make a playlist that you feel reflects the mood of the episode.

Make some art or a photo collage or edits to go along with the episode.

We look forward to seeing everything you create! Be sure to tag us so we can reblog your work!

Have questions about this or anything else? Send us an ASK or send a private message to one of the admins below!

Admins:

Michelle - @mrswhozeewhatsis

Marie - @mariekoukie6661

MJ - @thoughtslikeaminefield

Mana - @manawhaat (Founder and Admin Emeritus)

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 20

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

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you surrendered to whatever fate awaited you.

"The Corinthian is her-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No. Not this time.”

You bowed your head in resignation.

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

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

“I said, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Morpheus!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A dream that I inspired.”

“No,” Morpheus countered.

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

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

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

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

“You need to wake up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he tell you why? When a Vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the Waking World with it.”

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

“Y/N…? I….”

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

“Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m trying to keep you alive here.”

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

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

“You have to choose one of us Rose-”

“Enough!”

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

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

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

“Because I’m not dreaming anymore.”

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

“Thanks to you two, I’m wide awake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morpheus remained silent, listening intently.

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

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

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

"And what else is there?”

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

A pause followed.

“Humanity would be consumed.”

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

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

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

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

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

“So I must uncreate you now.”

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

Even a Nightmare can dream, my Lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you…”

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

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

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

“But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know, from this moment on, exactly how craven and selfish, and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered.”

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

“And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”

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

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

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

"You did,” you confirmed.

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

“I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't doubt that you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to follow her?”

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

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

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

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

“To the Dreaming.”

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

It took a moment for you to fully acclimate.

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

"Wait. I'm not asleep, am I?”

“No.”

“So… I’m actually here? Physically?”

“You are.”

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

“Why did you take me here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morpheus considered it, lowering his gaze thoughtfully.

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

“You will not change your mind.”

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

“Sorry. It’s not going to happen.”

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

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

Sometimes, fate could be unbearably cruel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gilbert…?”

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

"You… how....?”

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

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

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

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

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

Gilbert advanced, his heavy footsteps echoing through the space.

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

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

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

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

It was unique, enchanting, and felt perfectly fitting.

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

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

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

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

"Is there truly nothing we can do?”

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

"It's not as if she asked for it.”

"I know. It's rather sad, isn't it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you savored every moment of it.

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

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

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

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

“Hello.”

His voice was a melody, smooth as liquid honey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You needn't say a thing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is time, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! Sir!”

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

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

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

“You…? You’re a Dream?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rose blinked, her tears resonating with your own emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am sorry,” Morpheus conveyed.

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

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

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

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

“You know it is.”

“So, you have no other choice.”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My lord, stop!”

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

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

Rose was taken aback. "Unity?!”

"This is Unity Kincaid," Lucienne elucidated.

What…?

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

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

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

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus remarked.

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

Hey. Rude.

“Come here, Rose.”

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

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

“But h-how?”

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

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

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

"This?" Rose mused aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodbye, Rose.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Mh?”

"You look troubled.”

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

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

"There's something I need to know.”

“I can see that. Go on.”

“Who’s the man with golden eyes?”

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

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

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

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

The irritation, the fury that ignited in his eyes.

“Describe them.”

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

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

"Morpheus, please tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did they do?”

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

How could any family member ever want to harm him?

"So... Unity Kincaid...?”

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

“But why?”

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

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

You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

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

“The Furies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

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

“Y/N.”

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

"My love—”

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

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

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

“They do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was ethereal and beautiful, yet hollow and desolate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

"I can guarantee it.”

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

“Are you?”

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

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

"Ah, now you've done it, I'm afraid.”

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

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

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

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

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

One that he could always cross to reach you.

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

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

[slasherfckr]

Hii!!!

You know some people have alligator to be they pet right?

So I wonder how the slashers react S/O have an alligator pet?

Bo Sinclair must, and whatever slashers you want to write.

Thank you and hope you have a good day!!

Omg I absolutely love this ❤️ If they weren't wild, dangerous as hell and illegal to own, I'd definitely have a long teefer toofer (what my family calls Gators and Crocodiles. Weird I know 😭)

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Only doing Bo Sinclair and Jason Voorhees for this right now. Maybe I'll come back and do some more slashers cause honestly I need to do Michael Myers' reaction to a damn Gator ����

Various Slashers x S/O who brings home a gator

Bo Sinclair

"I'm home!" Bo called out. No one answered. He didn't expect Vincent to say anything but he did at least expect you to come up running to him and tell him about your day, even though nothing in particular ever happens.

He headed to the bedroom you two shared and as he got closer, he could hear you giggling like a little schoolgirl from behind the door.

"Hey, why didn't you-" Bo stopped right in his tracks as he opened the door and found you on the floor in the middle of the room with a juvenile alligator next to you.

You turned your head to him and gave him a big smile. "Bo! Look what I found while I was out with Lester!" You gently grabbed your new friend and held him up towards Bo.

"I named him Tim. He really enjoys belly scratches! Can we keep him? Please?" You looked up at him, trying to give him the most pathetic puppy eyes you could. Bo only sighed and pinches the bridge of his nose in response.

"Now, ya know I love ya. But this is possibly the most stupidest thing I've ever seen you do. You do realize this thing could absolutely kill you when it gets bigger right?"

As he said this, you realized he was right. Disappointed, you stood up with Tim and went to go out to put him back where you found him but not before Bo put a hand on your shoulder.

"Hold on I wasn't finished. I don't mind if ya kept....Tim. He seems like a very fine gator. But we both know Vincent would most likely turn him into a pair of shoes or something, yeah? How about we find a spot somewhere in Ambrose where Vincent won't find him?"

Your eyes lit up and your smile returned to your face. If you didn't have Tim in your arms, you would give Bo the biggest hug you could give. So instead you settled for something else

"Thank you Bo!" You planted a kiss on his cheek as you thanked him.

-----------

Jason Voorhees

You peeked into the window of the cabin you shared with Jason. You didn't see him anywhere. Taking this as a good sign, you carefully opened the door and lugged in the box you were carrying.

Not taking any chance that Jason could be upstairs, you made your way to the small basement and went down. You found a small little area and put the box down. Opening it, you found your new little friend asleep.

Smiling, you gently rubbed the top of his head with the side of your finger as to not wake him. Or her. You couldn't tell the sex of your new alligator. They weren't very big but definitely weren't a baby. Maybe 4 feet long? You'd have to measure and weight the poor thing later.

You were on your way home from town when you spotted the gator on the side of the road. As far as you knew, Alligators weren't found in New Jersey. Poor fella must have been abandoned by someone who thought they could handle an exotic pet like this you figured. You just hope Jason wouldn't mind this new addition to the household.

You got your friend set up with a little warming area and took some raw meat from the fridge down for them. It took a while but you managed to find a small tub like container in the basement for them and filled it with luke warm water. After setting your new friend up, you needed to find Jason.

You first searched the cabin and turned up with nothing. You figured this would be the outcome as he typically wandered the campgrounds during the day, looking for trespassers. The sun was setting so you knew he'd be back shortly. You decided to go back to your gator friend and keep them company until then.

. . .

You didn't realize how long you were down in the basement for but it was long enough for you to accidentally doze off on the spare couch downstairs and to have Jason come home. You were woken up when Jason had come down looking for you. He's seen a lot of things but he never expected to find a 4 foot gator creeping up on his sleeping S/O in the basement of the cabin.

He immediately went over and picked you up bridal style, doing his best to avoid the animal in the basement completely.

"Jason? What are you doing? Put me back down there!" He ignored your request and set you on the couch upstairs. Your eyes widened when you saw him grab his machete and head towards the basement door.

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold on!" Jason stopped and turned to you. You got up and ran to him. You held your hand out for the machete.

"Hand it over. I can't let you hurt Chompers." Jason hesitated but he eventually gave up his weapon, tilting his head in confusion in the process.

"Chompers...You named it?" He signed. You nodded as you took his hand and led him down to the basement. Chompers was back in their little corner, chomping away at some leftover meat you had put down there earlier. You let go of Jason's hand so you could go and sit with your scaly friend.

"See? Friend. I found them on the side of the road coming home from town. I couldn't just leave them alone, Jason. Can we keep them? Just until we can find a sanctuary or something that'll take 'em? They aren't native here. They won't survive in the wild on their own."

You could see Jason mentally debating this. It seemed like forever before he gave a big huff and nodded. You jumped to your feet and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you! I'm sure you two will become good friends too!" You smiled up at him. He hugged back and patted your head before going back upstairs.

[noxer]

«Unmasked»

Okay, i'm gonna try. I hope this is not that bad. Uhh, Soundwave/Blaster, some sort of fluff, something about a border where masks don't matter anymore, so it doesn't matter whether the mask is off or not, so why bother taking it off at all?

/awkward curtsy/

______________________________

"Question: Blaster wants to see Soundwave's face?"

It wasn't a question Soundwave would have asked under normal circumstances, but he had to admit that their situation was never normal. It also definitely didn't get easier with the onset of... the truce (he can't bring himself to say the word "peace", and it's not even a matter of Decepticon pride, it's just... it was difficult to realize until now). An intimacy that oscillates on the border with invasive, an understanding that could usually be shared only with own reflection, this whole set of things that does not allow one to relate each other to the usual one-sided categories of “enemies”, “friends” or “lovers”. This is difficult, there is not enough intelligence and experience here, you need faith in your own actions, hope for a favorable outcome, everything that the third-in-command did not have the right to rely on.

However, this is not the only reason. The thing is, Soundwave basically never asks questions. He doesn't need it. He always knows the answer in advance, relying on his own espionage skills or slightly more straightforward telepathy. But he doesn't want to read Blaster's mind right now. Perhaps later, when he gives an answer, and Soundwave can understand how ready he is to lie to him.

In addition, direct questions are much simpler and more effective than trying to unravel other bot's hints, semi-gestures and EMF’s vibrations, small signals emanating from the body, like a special type of code. Soundwave is a master codebreaker, but even he makes mistakes, and this is not a situation where he wants to make a one.

That's why he asks.

Blaster turns his head towards him, looking interested with bright blue optics. An almost tangible curiosity emanates from his body, mixed with playfulness and something less understandable. The Autobot is intelligent, although not the type of intelligence that any Decepticon is accustomed to. There is no cunning in him, no ability to anticipate someone else's shot before it leaves a hole in your back, no tenacious paranoid attentiveness. However, Blaster was not so easily fooled. He has cracked his codes, exposed false broadcasts and lured data out of databases for centuries. The fool couldn't handle this. The fool would have died on the day of his appointment as an officer. Blaster was no fool. Emotions might cloud his vision at times, but at the same time they gave him insight that was only occasionally surpassed by his own uncanny empathy.

Soundwave doesn't know what Blaster will answer, but he already knows that the answer will not disappoint him.

“I don’t know,” the Autobot’s deep voice purrs with attractive vibrations, “Do you want me to see?”

Soundwave's spark ignites. As he had expected, the other person's answer was extremely... interesting.

Blaster knows him. He knows from so many facets, in some places, perhaps understanding more about him than Soundwave himself understood. This happens when your lives repeatedly find themselves in each other's hands in so many different ways. One secret more, one secret less, it wouldn't matter anymore, not for them. But still...

He moves closer, enough to touch another bot, feeling the static spark between the bright scarlet plates and his own fingers. Blaster's hand almost simultaneously touches his mask. And nothing more. Soundwave feels the warm weight, the texture of worn metal and the faint electricity, but that's about it. There is not a single attempt to open hidden locks or remove the mask. Just a gentle, comforting touch.

He would allow his face to be revealed. He would.

But he's glad he doesn't have to.

He's glad that his secrets can remain secrets without tarnishing what was between him and Blaster (whatever that was after all).

Soundwave leans closer to the palm, absorbing its soft warmth under the autobot's quiet laughter.

[dipplinduo]

Hey there! I'm actually a big fan of your work , and as a rookie writer myself, I wanted to know if you have some motivation advises (Comparison gives me so much writer blocks and I don't even post)

I love how I received and chose to answer this ask after having a lack of motivation streak that I only broke quite literally a few hours ago xD

I think it's interesting you're bringing up comparison - it honestly might be at the root of what you're specifically experiencing so I'm gonna focus my response on that. I could be off, but it sounds like seeing what other people are doing feels intimidating and puts a lot of pressure on you. So if it isn't "perfect" or "up to par" with what others seem to be doing, it's not good enough to post.

This is my personal take:

I saw a post (wish I could link it but can't remember where it was) that really resonated with me not too long ago. It talked about how we've been conditioned as a society in a way to see a lot of the arts as something to perfect; if you want to sing, you should focus on learning how to become a good singer. If you are a dancer, you should focus on learning forms to become a better dancer.

The post goes on to make the point that this is not why the arts were founded in the first place.

We as humans began to sing because we enjoyed singing. We danced because we liked to dance. We paint, write, and draw because - at each art's purest and most rudimentary form - it is the power and experience of personal expression. The benefit wasn't to be perfect, it was to enjoy the creative outlet in itself.

This is what has always connected me to writing. This is why I'm okay with posting the way I do, and why I don't mind light humor about my typos and all that. Because at the end of the day, you're writing because you enjoy it. You're writing to express and share with others. And you're doing it all for free. Your willingness to give the gift of your creativity out to the world is beautiful in itself.

This next part might sound a lot easier said than done, but again, this is all just my personal route that goes in conjunction with this philosophy:

See other writers/creators as your peers. Think of it like a potluck - everyone's bringing their own food, and everyone has different ideas. But it's cool because now you have mashed potatoes along with your favorite food, and someone else brought ice cream. No one dish is going to "win" - it's the culmination of everyone's efforts that fills plates up and make the event (fandom) enjoyable and connective.

Recognize the way in which your fic is uniquely yours. What's the touch you want to have? Things you enjoy that you want to feel yourself as you create, and perhaps share with others? Romance, humor, fun, peace, angst? Maybe certain situations for characters, or a moment you want to see with your favorite ship? The more you get in touch with what you want to portray, the more credit you'll be able to rightfully give your own work.

Engage with creators/commenters that are additive to your personal enjoyment and creativity. Going with the whole "this is all for fun, and is basically everyone's hobby over life and death" thing - the people you surround yourself with, or even the content you consume, can directly affect your experience in writing for a fandom. I personally get a lot out of talking about my ideas with others and through inviting and responding to feedback from people that engage with my work. If you like engaging with someone else's work, go ahead! See what stands out to you as inspiring, and let that be your takeaway to mull on (as you're essentially learning more about yourself and what you find entertaining or engaging).

I'm gonna get off my soapbox now (lol), but I also wanted to add one more thing:

There unfortunately is a competitive culture in a lot of recreational spaces, and especially with the arts and over the internet lol. There are people who like to overly criticize because it makes them feel better about themselves/their own work, there are people who may choose to dislike you or your work simply because they view you as competition, etc.

These kinds of choices some (not the majority of people!) may choose to make hold no actual reflection of your character or what you're writing. It is someone else's reflection being projected onto you. You may not be able to control what they do, but you can control how you respond. And my advice on that?

It's your free time. Don't give the haters a platform, just disengage & tune into the folks that uplift & encourage you instead. B)

[thelazyhermits]

Any thoughts for the possibility of Yuu and Grandma Bucchi meeting?

Oh, absolutely! I want Yuu to meet Grandma Bucchi so bad since I love Ruggie and think his grandma will be cute like him but also super badass/awesome like Epel's grandma lol

Unfortunately, the chances of Ruggie getting a hometown event are pretty low, considering it's unlikely that there are hometown festivals, etc. where he grew up, and there's no way his family could afford to host anyone when they're just barely getting by as it is.

That's why I'm really hoping that Grandma Bucchi shows up in Book 7 at some point like Baul did cause that seems like our best chance to see her 🤞

Anyway, now it's time for me to stop babbling, so I can finally actually answer your question lol I put it all underneath the cut since I ended up writing a lot as per usual 😂

Okay, first off, I'd like to say that I think Grandma Bucchi isn't someone who's easy to impress/win over. You gotta earn her respect since she's gone through a lot over the years, and she won't get close to someone unless she's sure she can trust them.

She'd be especially like this when it comes to people associating with her grandson, although she trusts Ruggie's judgment since he's not the type who easily trusts people either, so whenever Ruggie starts talking positively about someone, she wouldn't immediately make unkind assumptions about them and would stay just wait to see how things play out before deciding how she should feel about whoever has caught Ruggie's interest.

Regarding Yuu, Grandma Bucchi first hears about her when Ruggie comes home for winter break 'cause Ruggie strikes me as the type who doesn't really talk about all the people at school when he's on the phone with his grandma. Instead, he focuses more on telling her that he's doing alright, eating well, etc. since he thinks that kinda info is more important.

Plus, he was totally worried that his grandma would tease him for spending so much time around a girl his age, which he had never really done before up until this point, and he really did not wanna deal with such an embarrassing conversation lol

However, the topic of Yuu can't be avoided when Ruggie gets home. That's because, in addition to bringing all that food from canon, Ruggie also has the Christmas present Yuu made for him, which he doesn't open until he gets home cause his hands were too full when she gave him his present right before he went home.

It's thanks to that Christmas present that Yuu makes a good first impression on Grandma Bucchi cause, in addition to making some cute hyena print socks for Ruggie, she also prepare lots of dishes/snacks and placed them in a magical bag, which she got from Sam, that has limitless storage.

Yuu made sure to prepare enough food that Ruggie could share with everyone back home cause she wanted to do something nice for all the little kids in his neighborhood, and she knew that Ruggie would share his food with everyone since that's how things work with hyena Beastman, which he had told her about in the past.

The fact that Yuu was thinking of not just Ruggie but everyone else back home impressed Grandma Bucchi, and she was even more impressed when she saw how well made the food and socks were since this is the kinda skill one develops after a lot of hard work, and Grandma Bucchi likes hard workers.

It's obvious that Yuu cares a lot about Ruggie, and Grandma Bucchi can tell her grandson has a soft spot for Yuu in return, although he tries to hide it from her. That's why Grandma Bucchi has Ruggie tell her all about Yuu cause she wants to hear all about this girl who has gotten close to her grandson recently.

Plus, as Ruggie feared, she also just wants to tease her grandson about him being so friendly with a girl, whom she says could potentially make a nice wife. Poor Ruggie lol 😂

Despite her teasing, Grandma Bucchi still has some reservations about Yuu, so she's not completely won over by this point. She still needs to meet Yuu and see her in person before she decides how she'll feel about her, although I think, even after that, it would still be a slow and steady development.

Regarding how exactly Yuu would meet Grandma Bucchi, since I can't see Ruggie getting a hometown event, I'm thinking the only way for them to meet is when Yuu is in Sunset Savanna working for Leona, like what was discussed in my Fairy Gala fic.

I could see Leona inviting Yuu to the Sunset Savanna during her first summer at TW since, even though they're still students by this point, they can still do some work during that time since a lot of work needs to be done to accomplish Leona's goals which won't be fulfilled quickly.

During that time, I could see Yuu paying Ruggie a visit, probably at his insistence so he can confirm Leona isn't running her ragged like he does to him lol And that would be when Yuu finally meets Grandma Bucchi.

This would also be when Yuu meets all the kids in the neighborhood who all love her cause of the stories they heard from Ruggie and most importantly the food she makes that Ruggie brings home for them lol

Overall, I'd say Yuu's first meeting with Grandma Bucchi goes well cause she's polite/respectful, and it's obvious how much Yuu cares about Ruggie.

Plus, Grandma Bucchi thinks you can learn a lot about a person from how they interact with children, and Yuu passed that test with flying colors cause she loves children and is really good with them, which is why the neighborhood kids became even more attached to her.

While this first meeting still isn't enough to completely win her over, Grandma Bucchi definitely thinks higher of Yuu than she does most people, so just as long as Yuu doesn't mess things up, which she won't cause she wants to earn Grandma Bucchi's respect/approval so she can continue being friends with Ruggie, things should continue to proceed positively between Ruggie's two favorite ladies ^^

[theragethatisdesire]

Hiii. How are you? I hope you're doing fine, I read your new addition to the poly relationship thing and it was really cool.

I was wondering if you have more headcannons of them? Maybe what pet names Jean and eren use for each other or the love language they have for each other,do they use physical touch or maybe words of affirmation or anything else? Or how they make out. Also do they cuddle (just the two of them)? Like maybe Eren had a bad day or something and I recall you mentioned that eren stops frowning when Jean touches his brows or smth like that. So what if eren had a bad day and he needs Jean to comfort him,do they cuddle or they just hug?

I'm curious about Jean's mom having a hard time with the poly relationship thing. At this point I'm just rambling,sorry.

I just wanted to see your thought on this cause I have some but I don't know how the others perceive it. Anyways thanks you so much,i love your content 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hellooooo cutie pie nonny :) this has been sitting in my ask box for AGES like since i dropped the last erejean fic i think and i have been so excited to answer it. i'm sorry it took me forever!!! but i am back and ~ ready to chat ~

more poly!erejean headcanons because anon said so

i think it takes them foreverrrrrr to be physically affectionate with each other, and it honestly takes jean awhile to get physical with you too, just bc of the dynamic changing

eren's love language is definitely physical touch, jean's is definitely gift-giving

whenever you or eren texts in your group chat (because of course you have a "y/n's bfs<3" groupchat lol) that you're having the worst day at work, jean's already plotting what store he's running by to pick something up for you as a nice little surprise

maybe it's ingredients for your favorite dinner, your favorite candy, a new pair of fuzzy socks, etc.

eren, on the other hand, just crushes you/jean with the biggest, tightest hug he can manage whenever you're having a bad day. probably offers a massage of some sort.

eren just ...very absentmindedly touches you and jean? like he is always just running a hand over your waist as he passes you in the kitchen, playing with jean's fingers while he scrolls on his phone, kicks his feet up on your lap to watch tv. it feels uncomfortable for him to be in the same room as either of you and not touch you somehow.

jean's favorite thing in the world is to have each of you tucked under his arms cuddling. insists on being in the middle for movie night.

i can't remember if i've mentioned this but eren and jean love sharing clothes. eren's the worst about it- he's literally always snagging jean's stuff and jean, misunderstanding at first, started buying eren a couple of his shirts that he noticed going missing. he got the point when eren never touched his new shirts.

eren 100% nuzzles into jean and you like a dog like noses against your shoulder/neck/tummy

just some little cuddling/physical touch hcs <3 as for jean's mom, i picture her being very traditional, wanting jean to get married and have children. jean has been bi for years in this verse, but very quietly bi, like maybe had a bf in college, told his mom (it took her a minute, but she came around) and his closest friends but keeps it pretty lowkey.

when he told his mom about his relationship with you and eren, the poly dynamic was just completely unlike anything she'd ever heard of and it really caught her by surprise. she wasn't outright unsupportive, but she's very old-fashioned and she just didn't understand how it could function like a legitimate, serious relationship. but when jean just keeps mentioning you both more and more (he knows things like this take her awhile, and she knows her boy is serious by how insistently he keeps bringing it up), she can just hear how happy jean is and wants to see how it works and give it a chance.

she's always adored eren through all the years she's known him, and she's smitten with you the second you shyly cross the threshold into her house, complimenting the decor. she never goes back, just has a few tentative questions for jean here and there, but all that matters to her is that her boy is being made happy by two wonderful people :)

[somerunner]

What word, what act, was it we thought did not matter?

For me, these two lines are "every little thing matters" (am responding to your tags; I linked the post in the above)

(Here's where I'd insert a "read more". If I HAD one!)

(Because I'm in a mood to babble and you're in for it now.) (So skim if you like) ( < 3 )

I'm reminded of a tumblr post (can't find it) where someone talks about their parent having said to them once--when they were a preteen--something like "I don't love you right now"

...and to them that was when they lost the ability to trust or feel safe or cared for by their parent. ...and they brought it up at a family event in their mid twenties after having moved far away and their parent didn't even remember the words.

I would have done anything to stay in the good graces of my first lover. ...but my first lover said those words to me during a rough patch. ...and for me, that was as if a wire had been cut. That is when it was suddenly and unrevokably over.

So many more examples. So many small moments of casual cruelty or thoughtlessness, directed at me and people I cared about, and sometimes--to my shame--BY me.

I'm sure this is a thing most people have gone through.

To me, this is a trauma poem, and also a poem about trying to stay mindful so I don't give that trauma to others.

Inasmuch as it can be helped, anyway. I have hurt people before through carelessness or lack of compassion. I hope to minimize both, and while I wish I could have gone through less pain myself, I more strongly wish I could have caused less pain to others. But such is life.

And also, of course, this poem is nearly a haiku or painting in how it is sharing with me a picture-situation in addition to sensations and emotions and a story.

I can almost see and almost taste the shattered tree. I mourn it.

Nothing in this poem says what season it is and it could be any season and if I had to answer a question on a test I'd pick spring because it mentions birds and new sap and pinecones (which could be year-round but the birds especially suggest spring)

but to me this is also a winter poem. In all the most cliche metaphorical ways.

I'm kinda almost objectively wrong in that, but the poem isn't actually a test, and of course your feelings and thoughts are what matter.

Good wishes at you and yours. May your winter be blissfully briskly cold when you want to be (location permitting), and may you be cozy and bundled when you want to be, and may you weather well the words and acts that were perhaps a bit less gentle than they ought to have been, and may both of us have success at not accidentally bumping and bruising our loved ones.)

I’ve seen that same post, and it was sobering. I’ve erred on the side of bluntness fairly often, and I could easily see myself saying the same thing (“because I added the caveat ‘right now’ I’m sure it’s fine”) but it’s so devastating to see what kind of message those words sent. I imagine this lack of love was reinforced by later actions; one mistake can destroy everything but there’s often many other mistakes that go with it.

It’s winter right now, and shattering brings to mind fall or winter for me. Though as you said, it’s not a test.

Picking up the pieces is worth it, if only to take them off the floor and dispose of them. Not sure where else I was going with that thought, but there you go.

I hope you can resonate less strongly with this poem in years to come.

[valleymyristica]

Okay, so I just read your fic because a friend of mine recommended it to me, and I thought it was really deep and well-written. However, I have a question: did Dale ever love Dev? Or did he even think it was possible to love Dev? If it's even possible for Dale to genuinely love someone.

Love is quiet a big word for someone who has yet to love themselves But he does care for money, money keeps him safe

In that way, Dev is great A great addition to help in what Dale does To help make sure his dream comes true

What dream you may ask? Oh worry not He forgot It's better to forget then dwell on the past

HE FORGOT. Yes. All his mind can hold is work. That is all there is.

He forgets the memories that he can not hold. Heh, maybe he's growing old?

Though, maybe that's for the better? It's not anything worth remembering Nothing. Nothing from there is worth remembering.

The sad part here is, a little bit of him does care Memories of his past, that push past the static He wants to give what he never had But, it's not like he ever learned how to be a good dad So, is it really a surprise that his teaching is somewhat bad?

And sometimes he finds that Dev should do better, With all theses opportunities that the kid holds in his hands Why isn't Dev strong and independent? And richer than the average man? It's hard for Dale, he can't understand.

Family can't keep you safe Only money can.

Just think a simple thought, of the experience he had And then you may wonder, maybe Dev doesn't really have it that bad? (Though, that doesn't mean he has it any good) (Dev has it far worse than any kid should)

Also, do let me share a peek of what's to come,

""" Dad tells him how to pose and to smile and he does his best and dad looks so happy! So, he smiles a little extra. He just knows dad loves him when dad looks at him as if he’s worth a million bucks. """

So, maybe it's best to say, that there was no one? No one to give love, no one to give care

For, You can not share, what you never had Not give, what you never got And not take, what you never brought

The only thing he needs, is money I fear But who's to say he can't get better?

Who's to say he doesn't deserve the chance?

Then again, what reason does he have for change? Chance means something new will come And something new means uncertainty

We can't have that, can we?

But to answer it proper,

It's hard to say, but as of right now there hasn't really been true love More just caring about something you have to keep alive Like caring for the pet of another

He does it, but sometimes it's hard And sometimes he sees himself and for a moment want to give what he never had

There is not malice, just muddy waters

He needs to learn to love himself Before he can learn to love someone else

What a delight!

It's so cool to hear that you got it as a recommendation

I can't believe someone recommended it! Someone though it so good as to recommend it! That's just wild, who could it be? Oh, do give them a dear "Thank you!", it's so nice!

And it's nice to hear that you find it so deep and well-written, Thank you! Brings me glee! So happy!

I do want to try my best to make it worth the read You're supposed to have fun indeed

[battle-facility-zine]

Additional F.A.Q 2

Hello, challengers! Thank you so much for your support and responses on our Interest Check form! We have received a couple more questions and comments about our zine that we would like to share our answers with you all!

Q: I would love to participate but I was wondering if minors will be allowed to apply?

Minors who are at least 14 will be allowed to apply as this is a free digital zine that does not require the handling of money or shipping. However, should they be accepted onto the project they will be held to the same standards as everyone else and expected to act with maturity during the creation phase. As we have mentioned on our About Page, our main concerns as mods is to bring the project to completion, and as such, we have rules to ensure the success of the zine.

Q: I am so curious to see how much focus is gonna be on Ingo and Emmet? I know they're really popular.

We the mods here at In Pursuit of Victory are very aware of the popularity of the Subway Masters fandom, however this is a zine dedicated to all of the Battle Facilities. As such, when it comes time for pitches we plan to make sure that no facility or boss is repeated more than 2-3 times between the Artist and Writers. So if there’s a Facility or Boss that you really want to make something for, come up with some really creative pitches! We would like to see a variety of facilities on display, and there are so many to choose from!

We are still accepting responses up till February 5th, and you can find the form here!