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rainbowmoonstonestories · 6 months ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/? 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. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

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

While on one hand your work in Cape Kennedy was progressing without any hiccup, the situation with the Vortex was beginning to escalate and deteriorate at a very alarming rate. But there was only so much that you, as a mere mortal, could do to assist.

The Corinthian lounged in his chair, his unsettlingly perfect smile unwavering as he examined you through his disconcerting, mirrored sunglasses. You stayed as motionless as a still lake, frozen and unflinching, with your heart pounding intensely in your chest.

Even though fear engulfed you and the Nightmare instilled a chilling sense of dread, you were determined not to present yourself as vulnerable or an easy prey.

"Well, look who we have here," he remarked, settling comfortably and flashing his trademark grin. "Do you remember me?”

"Naturally," you replied, your tone distant and firm. "Thanks for the drink, but I must admit I'm not really into the Black Russian Cocktail.”

He let out a chuckle, seemingly entertained by your biting response. "Ah, such a shame. I thought it might be to your taste,” he said, his voice silky, laced with feigned charm. "But I assure you, I'm not just here to buy you a drink. In fact, I'm more interested in...conversation.”

A shiver coursed down your spine, but you held your stance, your hand reaching for the Moonstone necklace as a form of support. "What do you want, Corinthian?" you questioned, managing to keep your voice steady despite the terror simmering within you.

His grin broadened at the mention of his name. "Straight to the point. I like that.”

He leaned slightly forward, cautious not to breach the invisible protective barrier that the necklace symbolized. "I just happened to be in the area and saw a familiar face. It's always nice to catch up with old acquaintances.”

You narrowed your eyes, not letting his nonchalant demeanor fool you. "Acquaintances? Is that what we are now? Because the last time we met, I didn't even know your name.”

The Corinthian shrugged, pretending indifference. "Names are overrated. It's what lies beneath that's truly interesting. Speaking of which,” His gaze shifted to the pendant in your hand. "That's a beautiful Dreamstone you're wearing there.”

As an entity crafted by Morpheus himself, you speculated it would be easy for him to sense his master's essence residing in the stone. The crystal had not yet shone any light, but it likely wouldn't trigger as long as a secure distance was maintained.

Given his aim to stay under the radar, it was certainly unthinkable to do anything that might catch Morpheus' attention.

Despite this, you were not ready to lower your defenses. You gripped the pendant tighter, your knuckles whitening, until you were overpowered by a terrible uncertainty.

The pendant housed Morpheus' energy, the identical one he employed to craft his subjects. All of them, Dreams and Nightmares alike, including the Corinthian. Would it even function against that creature, or was it destined to stay inactive in the presence of its creator's power?

However, understanding Morpheus as you did, you figured that he wouldn't leave anything to chance.

"You stay away from me," you warned, your voice low but fervent.

He lifted his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender. "Easy there. I'm not looking for trouble. Just a friendly chat. After all, it's not every day you run into someone who's so... special."

His tone bordered on teasing, but underneath it lurked a layer of menace.

You shot him a stern look, your heart maintaining its rapid pace. "Why are you really here?”

The Corinthian's smile remained, but a spark of irritation flickered across his face. "Let's just say I'm here on business. But you, my dear, seem to have stumbled into something far bigger than you realize. I wonder...do you even know what you're protecting yourself from?”

You offered no response, your silence serving as a testament to your fear and resolve.

The Corinthian reclined again, his expression contemplative. "You know, the Dreaming is a fascinating place. Full of wonders and horrors alike. It's a shame, really, that some of us can't ever truly escape it.”

Your fingers traced the contours of the Moonstone, deriving fortitude from Morpheus' gift.

You looked intently at him, your jaw set rigidly. "You were meant to stay. The Waking World is not the place for you.”

The Corinthian chuckled with a predatory glint that seemed to emerge on the dark lenses. “Ah, but the Waking World is so much more entertaining. So many unsuspecting souls, so many dreams to twist and shatter. The Dreaming can be quite confining, don’t you think?”

"You're playing a dangerous game here. You know that sooner or later he's going to find you, right?”

He laughed once more, a sound lacking any semblance of mirth. "Oh, but I have plans, my dear. Grand plans. And they don't include being sent back to the Dreaming like a misbehaving pet.”

His presence was deeply disturbing, stirring an urge in you to eradicate him instantly. It would be so easy; you had the means to inform Morpheus, to signal him that his nightmare had reappeared before your eyes. Yet, despite your impulse to act, you were held back by the bustling public scene, brimming with humans immersed in their own lives.

“Dreams are fragile things. And even the most powerful can crumble under the right pressure.”

You swallowed hard. "Be that as it may, you can't hide from your master forever.”

"That won't be necessary.”

At that moment, the suspicion began to creep into your mind that he was not only aware of the forming Vortex, but also harbored intentions of exploiting Rose for his own gain. Perhaps that could provide an explanation for the persistent feeling in your gut.

Alternatively, it could be your paranoia casting a cloud over your perception, and his presence in Cape Kennedy might not be related to the girl at all. However, his hints towards a grandiose scheme were undeniable, and whatever he was plotting, it was improbable that it would result in anything remotely beneficial.

Your phone began to vibrate and ring on the table, breaking the tense silence yet escalating your alertness. Andrew's name lit up on the screen, and despite your strong desire to extricate yourself from that situation, your body didn’t budge.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Your eyes blazed with defiance. "Just so we’re clear, I won't let you harm anyone. Especially not him.”

It was a daring move on your part. What could a mere mortal such as yourself, lacking any supernatural abilities and unaware of this Nightmare's true potential, realistically hope to achieve against such monster?

“We’ll see about that.”

The Corinthian maintained his malevolent smirk, as he rose from his chair and smoothed out his jacket. The ringing of your phone ceased, the screen going dark. "Well, it's been delightful catching up, but I must be going. Places to be, people to see, dreams to corrupt. You know how it is.”

He made a motion to leave, but then halted, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing. Give my regards to Dream. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very soon.”

Your blood ran cold as he continued speaking, gradually advancing towards the door.

“Enjoy your stay in Cape Kennedy, sweetheart. And remember, nightmares can follow you anywhere.”

With that, the Corinthian vanished into the bustle of the street, leaving you in solitude at the bar, your thoughts spiraling out of control.

You exhaled a prolonged, trembling breath of relief as soon as you found yourself alone at the table, your fingers finally releasing their grip on the Dreamstone. The fact that he left you entirely untouched, without even attempting to lay a finger on you, could signify a multitude of possibilities. Was he planning to toy with you a bit longer before erasing your existence from this world? Did he have intentions of annihilating the entire human race, you included, all in one sweep?

When your phone rang again, you jumped in your seat. You allowed the call to continue for a few more seconds, swallowing down your anxiety and only answering it when you were certain you could muster up your voice.

"Andrew, hi.”

"Oh, Y/N, you answered! I'm nearly there.”

"Yeah, I inadvertently left my phone on silent," you feigned. "I'm on my way.”

"Oh hey, is everything alright? You sound strange...”

Apparently, you weren't very good at concealing it.

"I'm fine! Just a bit tired, it seems the jet lag is really taking a toll on me now.”

Fortunately, Andrew seemed to accept your excuse. "Ah yes, of course! Sorry for having you run around like this.”

You swiftly settled the bill for your drink, leaving the undesirable Black Russian Cocktail abandoned on the table. "No need to apologize, I came here specifically for this.”

"Yeah, but I'm not in any hurry at the moment. So if you need to take things slower, just let me know, okay?”

You smiled, exiting the bar and crossing the street, breathing in the refreshing salty air. "Of course, but don't worry!”

"Right. I've just arrived. Are you nearby?”

"Yes, literally five minutes away.”

"Great! I'll hang up now, see you in a moment!”

As you slipped your phone back into your bag, you were taken by a sudden wave of calm and contentment, simply from Andrew's display of kindness and concern. Given the extremely negative energy you had absorbed from the Corinthian, the positivity radiating from your newly-acquired friend served to completely dispel the Nightmare's impact on you.

Nevertheless, the situation was not to be underestimated. Even though Morpheus might have been unaware, the possibility of his own creation plotting to obliterate not just the Dreaming but also the Waking World was a grave matter. It was vital that he be apprised of the looming threats he was up against.

Unfortunately, given his perpetual sense of duty, there was a fear that this revelation might exacerbate his self-blame. The notion of you coming across the Corinthian in London had already caused him significant distress, to the extent that you were fearful of his reaction to finding out that the Nightmare had, in essence, posed an indirect threat to you.

No, it was preferable to keep this information to yourself for the time being. Having a line of communication with the King of Dreams, you had the capability to reach out and converse with him if the need arose. Thus, as you spotted Andrew awaiting you on the most picturesque beach of Cape Kennedy, you made a silent pledge to yourself to monitor Rose as closely as possible, ensuring that no harm would befall the girl and, by extension, all of you.

Andrew couldn't have come up with a better idea. He intended for you to experience the magnificence of Cape Kennedy up close, guiding you on one of the most serene strolls you'd ever taken in your life. The melody of the sea was enchanting, the sky was unblemished, and the ocean was astoundingly beautiful. Owing to the Beach Land that was a frequent destination in your dreams, you had cultivated a deep fondness for the ocean.

Once again, he transported you back to his quarters for a thorough work assessment and outline. Charlotte was even more ebullient than the previous day, welcoming you with a warm hug and presenting another tray of fresh beverages and snacks, which you gladly accepted. Andrew had already given his approval to your drafts and the requested modifications, so technically, a large part of your job was already completed. What Andrew sought from you now was counsel on the overall presentations, along with guidance regarding the advertising strategy.

You were so immersed in the task at hand, surrounded by stacks of papers as you both scribbled notes and laid out plans on your laptops, that time slipped away unnoticed. Dinner had come and gone in what felt like an instant, the sky transitioning from daylight to a dark canvas speckled with twinkling stars amidst your ongoing conversations.

As the day came to a close, Andrew drove you back to Hal's B&B, suggesting you get some rest before the next briefing. A tranquil night was upon you, underscored by the calming whispers of rustling leaves and cricket melodies.

Yet, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something could emerge from the shadows unexpectedly at any moment.

Your footsteps reverberated along the pathway leading to the front door. As you pushed it open, the sound of Hal's voice drifted from nearby.

“There’s not much to do in Cape Kennedy after dark. Or during the day for that matter.”

You stopped in your tracks. His voice resonated with an unmistakable undertone of exhaustion and defeat.

“That’s kinda what I like about it,” Rose retorted in response. “I was thinking, maybe I should move back.”

“Why? To do what?”

The tone of Hal's inquiry made his disapproval abundantly clear.

“I don’t know. Before my mom died, I was gonna go to grad school… and try to become a writer.”

Nonetheless, Rose appeared unperturbed and relaxed, exuding an air of tranquility.

“But maybe it’s like you and New York.”

“God. I hope not.”

“No, I mean, your life is here,” she corrected. “You have this house, people who love you. You’ve got Dolly.”

You generally refrained from eavesdropping, but you felt that interrupting at that juncture would be incredibly inappropriate. Thus, you remained standing outside, right before the slightly open door.

“Rose, do you think I wanna be here? Cleaning after Barbie and Ken? Don’t get me wrong, I love them, they’re great. But if Broadway called tomorrow, I would sell this fucking house.”

The palpable sorrow in his voice touched a nerve. You had experienced similar sentiments once, longing to discard everything you had in pursuit of the fulfilling life you aspired to lead.

“And I would never think about any of these people ever again.”

There was a pause, followed by Hal's voice resuming once again.

“Go to grad school, write a novel… about me, but do it now while I’m still cute enough to play myself in the movie.”

Rose's soft chuckle was barely audible, but the joy it conveyed was unmistakable. It mirrored the enjoyment you felt, prompting a quiet smile to spread across your face.

“’Cause this, was never my dream.”

Soon after, Rose withdrew to the room she shared with Lyta to turn in for the night. Hal continued to clean up the area, the sound of glasses clinking against each other echoing throughout the room. Truth be told, you were keen to have a one-on-one chat with the girl as you hadn't yet gotten a proper chance to explain your encounter. But in that moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to give Hal some words of support, a growing desire in your heart that you simply couldn't overlook.

At last, you walked inside, gently closing the door behind you and advancing towards Hal, who was gathering the last vestiges of the drinks the others had left behind. Catching sight of you, he performed a graceful twirl and greeted you with a smile as radiant as the sun.

"Hi! I haven’t seen you all day. Has your work with Andrew been keeping you on your toes?”

"Somewhat, but things are progressing quite well," you responded.

"Oh, I'm certain. With your talent and his qualities, I can only anticipate the best.”

Shadowing his movements, you nervously bit your lower lip. "Speaking of talent, I couldn't help but overhear your exchange with Rose.”

Hal halted, clutching the empty tray in his hands. "Well, it was just, you know, something I needed to get out of my chest.”

You nodded in understanding. "We need that sometimes. But allow me to remind you that you already have everything you need within your grasp.”

He let out a sigh. "If only, my dear.”

"No, I'm serious. Maybe I don't have the right to say this, given we just met yesterday. And I understand this might sound like empty encouragement from someone who doesn't fully get your struggle. But you are so much more than this life you're discontented with.”

He had already talked about his aspirations with you - his dream to take center stage in Broadway's grandest shows, to become a celebrated star whose name would be remembered by all. Observing how his present life was constricting him, you felt an irresistible need to emulate your mother and extend as much consolation as you could.

You were no deity, no monarch of dreams. But he was a reflection of your past self and everything that persona embodied. Though you understood you were not your mother, you were at least confident in knowing the right words to express.

Hal's shoulders sagged and the new smile he offered was imbued with sadness and resignation. "Y/N, you're so kind to say that. But do you really think anyone would consider a Drag like me?”

"Hal, I witnessed your performance last night. Your voice is spectacular, and your stage presence was so mesmerizing that I couldn’t even blink while watching you.”

"Thanks, darling, But that won't exactly open the doors to Broadway for me.”

You shook your head in disagreement. "You don’t know that.”

He persisted in his skepticism, his countenance marked by desolation, as he found it impossible to conceive a more promising future for himself. You couldn't simply stand by and accept his surrender to circumstances.

“I mean, look at me. I am a living testament to how a life that once felt riddled with misery can transform into everything you've ever dreamed of.”

"Yes, and I love having you here right now. But I'm not like you, Y/N. All I can do is wait and hope that this endless cycle will take a different direction. Rather sooner than later.”

His pessimism didn't surprise you. After all, there was a time when you too were unwilling to believe in the possibility of betterment, bracing for nothing but disaster despite your father's and Hob's efforts to help you see things from a different angle.

"Or, you could cultivate this talent of yours and follow your dreams. Don't let it go to waste, you truly deserve to shine,” you said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

At that moment, something unusual occurred. A warmth emanated from your heart, appearing to radiate along his sleeve. Hal's face transitioned into one filled with wonder and surprise, staring at you as if he'd just seen a miracle unfold right before his eyes.

"Hal, you have your own individuality that defines who you are now, and also who you can become if you don’t give up.”

This time, he seemed to contemplate it, diverting his gaze and pursing his lips. "You do have a unique flair for words, don't you?” he noted, breaking into another bright smile and letting out a profound sigh.

He wasn't the first to compliment your communication skills, which evidently played a significant role in your professional success.

Still, you couldn't help but feel that it wasn't merely a perk you had acquired, but more so a family trait that you had inherited from birth.

"I try, at least.”

"Keep doing that, and you'll go really far in life.”

You chuckled, releasing him and slipping off your jacket. Somehow, as soon as you moved away, it felt like the enchantment had shattered, returning the atmosphere to its prior, ordinary state.

“Just give it some thought,” you suggested.

"Oh, I will. Maybe a good dream will stir some inspiration tonight.”

As you approached the stairs, gradually ascending the first few steps, you flashed a playful yet sincere wink in his direction. "Dreams have the power to do just that.”

If only he, or anyone else for that matter, could comprehend the depth of that truth. If only they could marvel at the wonders that the King of Dreams could bestow upon each one of them, had they dared to ask.

How had the mortal realm managed to endure an entire century devoid of the Dreaming? How had you navigated through countless silent, barren, desolate nights?

However, the elements within the dream realm could be as breathtaking as they were daunting. There were beings as mighty as the Corinthian, who had transformed what was meant to merely mirror humanity's deepest fears into a tangible nightmare in the Waking World.

Upon finding the plush comfort of your bed, you attempted to expunge all traces of those convoluted emotions from your gut. As you drifted off to sleep, you could only wish to find yourself enveloped by the dream figures you held so dear, all except Morpheus who, much to your chagrin, was preoccupied with the quest to locate his Dream and Nightmares.

One of which was tremendously close to all of you in the mortal realm.

As you leisurely strolled along the beach, your father's hand in yours, your younger self dipped her toes into the moist sand along the shoreline. You felt incredibly small and unburdened, reminiscent of the times you used to visit the seaside many years ago. The beach was tranquil, with no one else in sight, just you and your father gathering exquisite seashells and breathing in the refreshing air.

"Be careful there," he teased. "Or else you'll run out of space in that bucket.”

"I can't help myself," you replied cheerfully. "There are so many seashells, I want to collect them all.”

"This really is the best place in the world, innit?”

You nodded emphatically. "Of course it is, we're in the Dreaming.”

It was fascinating how a part of you maintained awareness, while another part seemed to have been transported back to the innocence and simplicity of your childhood.

"Beautiful. Simply beautiful," he observed.

The day was idyllic, reflecting the splendor of the dreamworld. You watched your small fingers digging into the damp sand, extracting more seashells and stones, each one glittering under the sun like a precious jewel.

But it was not reality, it was merely an illusion, a façade on the verge of shattering before your eyes.

Suddenly, a distant rumbling echoed in the sky, a sound that wasn't a novel occurrence.

"What was that?”

Your father appeared completely unconcerned, disregarding the approaching roar entirely. "Mh? What are you referring to, darling?”

“That sound.”

"What sound? All I can hear is the ocean.”

You stopped, causing your father to pause his strides as well. With the bucket's handle clenched tightly in your small fist, you focused on discerning the subtle noises in your surroundings.

Indeed, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, leading you to conclude that what you had heard was merely conjured by your imagination.

Until a colossal fissure, which jolted the entire landscape, emerged in the sand, a hair's breadth away from your father's feet.

"Dad!" You cried out. "We need to get away from here, now!”

“Mh? Whatever do you mean?”

With a trembling index finger, you pointed towards the ominous crack. Despite your frantic warning, he continued to smile - a wide, almost terrifying grin that you had never seen before.

You released his hand, the bucket falling to the ground. "You're not real. None of this is. It's all just a dream,” you repeated to yourself.

"Is that so? Well, I suppose I can't let you leave now.”

What on earth?!

You started to retreat, but he made no move to follow. Your dream father stood there, statue-like, tilting his head and staring at you with an utterly blank expression. You could feel the chaos mounting in you, the urgency to flee and awaken. The crack continued its course, spreading around your father like tree roots.

Paralyzed, you could only watch the horrifying scene unfold in front of you. The sky turned ominously dark and the ocean receded, only to rise again and form a gigantic wave. It towered over you, threatening to crash down imminently.

And then, a hand clamped down onto your shoulder, compelling you to pivot around. Your face, no longer that of a child, was reflected in the Corinthian's round black lenses.

“Give my regards to Dream. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again v͔̠ͬ͝e͕̰̥̦̐ͥͪ̇̓͊ͭ͊ͧ̏̕͢r̵̡͕͕̮͉͙̯̅̇̄ͣ̊̑y̲̼͋͐̓ͅ s̱̭͔̪̩̳̜̹͕̹̩͙̙̪̗̤ͮ̊ͥ̏ͮ͋́͗ͧ̐̽͘͜͟͝͠ͅǫ̷̷̛̙̫̞��̮͆̒͐̐ͯ͛͡ǫ̙ṇ̵̆ͬ̓͘_̛̬̣̻͙̐̅ͥ̓ͪ̃_̵̶̝̣̝̈̆ͣ̍̉.”

His voice echoed all around you, reverberating in your ears and becoming distorted. The tidal wave crashed, engulfing everything in its path and wiping it all away. You were caught in a maelstrom, spinning uncontrollably, gasping for breath in the underwater whirlwind.

Awakening with a jolt, you kicked off the covers and sat bolt upright, pressing your back against the pillow. Panting, anxious and disoriented, you looked around to anchor yourself and dispel the remnants of your dream hung in the air, creating hypnagogic illusions of shadowy figures and wavering walls. It took a moment of deep, calming breaths and a run of your fingers through your tousled hair to bring your racing heart back to its normal rhythm.

Morpheus was absent, and the idea of slipping back into slumber was out of the question for now. You sprang to your feet, slipped into your cozy slippers, and draped a long open cardigan over your pajamas. A hot cup of tea, you thought, might just be the remedy to calm your frazzled nerves and restore your sense of lucidity.

Making an effort to keep the noise low, you stepped out of your room and gingerly made your way down the dimly lit hallway. You arrived at the main staircase, cautiously descending, with one hand instinctively placed on your chest where the feeling of water filling your lungs persisted.

Distractedly, you moved forward, and the light turned on in the dining room immediatly piqued your curiosity. The table was decorated with a tray full of traditional British biscuits, and a hot teapot was perched on it. A hefty figure was seated in front of the nocturnal treat, humming contentedly while relishing it.

“Gilbert?”

“Oh, hello Miss Y/N! What are you doing up at this hour?”

You smiled, observing his apparent fondness for his cane, which he seemed to carry with him wherever he went.

"I can't fall asleep," you answered. "What about you?”

"I was reading, lost track of time again. I brewed a spot of Chamomile, fancy a cup yourself?”

Given the state your nightmare had put you in, the prospect of a calming cup of Chamomile tea indeed seemed heavenly.

“Yes, please," you agreed. "I would appreciate that.”

"But of course! Would you mind having a sit? I’ll be right back.”

His warm and courteous manners always uplifted your spirits. Even the way he carried himself was full of grace and poise.

The soft sound of him rummaging through the cupboard reached your ears as he pulled out a vacant mug from the kitchen. Upon his return, he presented you with some of his biscuits with a sincere smile, and you felt like a spoiled child in need of a sweet snack to alleviate the tension. Had he possibly discerned your distress?

“Do you often make tea in the middle of the night?” You asked.

The corners of his lips curled upward even more, his mustache following the movement. “Old habits, I suppose. There's something comforting about it, don't you think?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of home.”

Gilbert sat down beside you, spooning a generous amount of sugar into his cup, now promptly refilled. "Feeling a touch of homesickness, are you?”

"Oh, it's more about the folks I hold dear back there. You know, family, friends.”

Gilbert savored a new sip of his Chamomile, licking his dampened lips and appreciating the warm brew. "And a dashing young chap too, perhaps?”

You held back a chuckle, finding "young chap" to be a rather amusing term for someone of Morpheus' stature.

"Let's say there is, in some sense.”

"Splendid. I won’t pry then.”

You truly pondered where this man originated from with his old-world sophistication.

The warmth of the beverage slid down your throat, finally dispelling that dreadful feeling of suffocation. "I love reading, too. It's unfortunate that I no longer have enough time to dedicate to it, but I’m passionate about my job."

"Yes, I did catch a few snippets. You work in the fashion industry, don't you?”

"That's correct. I'm a Fashion Designer, so I handle all aspects of the creative process and general promotion.”

Gilbert cast his gaze downwards, seemingly deep in contemplation. "Creative, that's marvellous. You know, it reminds me of someone I used to know a while back.”

“Really? Someone special?”

"Ah, my dear. He was the very heart of the place I hail from.”

"He’s not anymore?”

Gilbert grew nostalgic. "Oh no, he is. He'd been away for a very long time, you see. Without him, my homeland lost its essence. I left because I wanted to... embark on new experiences, I would say.”

You had a multitude of questions, but given your limited familiarity with the man, you didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You hypothesized that he originated from a quaint English town, and the person he spoke so warmly about was possibly a revered clergyman or a commoner cherished by many.

"Do you plan on returning?" You asked.

"Eventually, yes. I never intended to leave my place, I simply... needed to explore… more of this world.”

His explanation was notably vague, giving you the sense that he was carefully choosing his words to sidestep other topics he seemed less eager to discuss.

But ultimately, that was just a part of his charm.

"I understand. Thank you for sharing, Gilbert.”

"A pleasure, Miss Y/N.”

As you both continued to enjoy the Chamomile and savor the tasty biscuits he had provided, a momentary silence fell between you. Oddly enough, it didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable; instead, it nurtured a feeling of closeness. His presence was soothing, organic, and serene. You could faintly detect an aroma of damp moss and lush greenery emanating from him, along with hints of apples, sea ozone, musk and sandalwood.

Even though you were indoors, your mind was conjuring up the image of a lush green oasis. Unknown to you, the dreadful thoughts of your nightmare had entirely faded from your consciousness.

That was, until he posed the subsequent question, interrupting your mental imagery.

"You said you can’t fall asleep. Is something troubling you, my dear?”

Setting your mug aside, you aligned your back more straight against your chair. "I woke up from a nightmare earlier. It was quite unsettling.”

"Oh dear," he expressed. “Are you all right?”

"To be honest, I’m a little worried about something. But I can’t tell if my feelings are warranted, or if I'm just making everything more complex than it needs to be.”

Gilbert lapsed into a thoughtful silence again, absentmindedly twirling the spoon in his tea.

"Dreams can reveal a fair bit about your-" he cleared his throat. "-our own selves. Our worries, longings, even our darkest truths. They can be quite revealing, in their own cryptic manner.”

For some reason, he seemed to possess knowledge far beyond what any typical human being should. But considering the significant time he spent engrossed in books, his extensive cultural understanding was not surprising to you.

"It's weird, isn't it? Dreams can manifest the most beautiful visions one could ever see, yet sometimes, they can be so frightful that they make you want to never fall asleep again.”

He guffawed. "I've seen my fair share of unusual dreams. Each one is a journey, wouldn't you agree?”

You, more than anyone else, could attest to the spectacular travels one could undertake through their dreams.

But those very dreams you loved deeply, those realms and magical constructs, if not the Dreaming as a whole, were seemingly endangered by a force equally formidable.

As unsettling as the nightmare had been, you couldn't let it deter you from delving into your subconscious mind.

“I do, actually. It’s a little tough, though.”

"Isn't it just? This world's a grand old place, my dear. Just as many marvels to be found as there are true horrors to behold.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, gazing at the remnants of your Chamomile. "You're so right Gilbert. I wish I could remove a thing or two from my memory.”

"I daresay. But isn't that also part of what makes you... well, human?”

His point held weight, considering the lessons you had acquired over the years. All those hardships, all the adversities you had to surmount. Even Morpheus confined to that cage, isolated, insulted, and forgotten. Had you not witnessed all that, you would have entirely overlooked his existence, and inevitably lost the opportunity to understand what it meant to love and be loved by him.

Every fear, all the concerns, all the wonderings and questions. They all contributed to your growth and shaped who you wanted to become.

"Thanks, Gilbert," you voiced softly, "I really like talking to you.”

"Absolute pleasure, Y/N. Whenever you fancy a chat, I'm here to lend an ear.”

Having finished the Chamomile and nibbled the last crumb of your biscuits, you gathered the empty mugs and plates onto the tray. Gilbert generously offered his help, which you politely declined, allowing him to retreat to his attic for some rest (or to indulge in more reading).

You let the water run at the bare minimum, washing the mugs and plates with utmost care. You returned everything to its proper place, gently closing the cupboard's door to preserve the quiet. Gilbert's footsteps were soft and deliberate, until the surroundings became so silent that you couldn't hear a fly.

It was still early, and you didn't know how long Morpheus would take to conduct his investigation. All you could wish for was that no hindrances had appeared in his way.

As you slid back under the covers and settled onto the mattress, you grabbed your phone and plugged in your earbuds. You swiped across the screen, rifling through your saved playlists until you found the specific track you were looking for.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇

You used to play these melodies when contending with your chronic insomnia, and even if they weren't particularly helpful at the time, you still cherished the calming sounds they produced. And so, you pressed the play button, adjusting the volume to a moderate level, getting yourself comfortable and closing your eyes.

The soft music echoed in your ears like liquid gold. You felt weightless and cleansed, as if the bed had vanished beneath you. When sleep claimed you once more, you felt comforted and at peace, journeying through a variety of pleasant dreams.

The fact that you had no pressing obligations the following day was a stroke of good luck, for when morning arrived, you were still blissfully asleep in your bed. The Dreaming appeared to be just as it always was, granting you unrestricted exploration. You took a serene stroll in the most beautiful meadow you had ever seen, crossed a forest bathed in hues of pinks and reds, and even engaged in conversation with a chatty deer you encountered along the way. At times, the things appearing around you looked odd and somewhat nonsensical, but it didn't particularly bother you.

And then, you were enveloped in a sea of stars, to the extent that you found yourself traversing an actual galaxy. Even though you were walking, you couldn't see any physical ground under your feet.

You weren't sure of your destination, but the energy pulsating through the paradisiacal landscape motivated you to continue, and you simply couldn't resist the call. The dress you wore, so lengthy that it trailed behind you like a royal gown, was imbued with the brilliance of stars and the swirling cosmos.

All that stunning beauty made your thoughts drift towards Morpheus, and you realized how much you longed to see him again.

Distant voices began to form and resonate from the far end of the nebula, where a powerful blue light flashed and expanded. You quickened your pace, walking briskly, until the light became almost blinding, compelling you to raise your hands in front of your face.

And it was fortunate that you did, because a few moments later, you collided with something hard and icy, as solid as marble.

The galactic spectacle had completely dissolved, replaced by a radiant blue fog that began to thin out and dissipate. The pillar in front of you obstructed your view, but it didn't take long for you to recognize the castle's throne room.

How were you able to locate that place again without Morpheus’ explicit invitation?

And then, you recalled his earlier words, assuring you that you were always welcome in his castle. Could it be that this had inherently given you unlimited access to it?

“Do you have any idea what his life is like in the Waking World?”

A woman was speaking, but you couldn't identify her.

“Humans cannot live in dreams.”

Morpheus.

��As long as he stayed there, the child had no life. Nor the chance for one.”

Sensing that you were amidst something significant, you moved your body slightly to the side to survey the unfolding scene. Morpheus, as handsome and majestic as ever, stood a few steps above Lucienne and another figure, a well-defined woman who was clearly far from human. Her skin was dark, akin to a desaturated purple, adorned with fuchsia streaks that pulsed like faint lightning. Her entire body seemed alive, displaying a kaleidoscopic effect that resembled liquid shadows.

“The boy is being abused,” the creature stated. “He’s suffering.”

“You abused that suffering,” Morpheus counteracted. “To build a Dreaming you could rule.”

And then it struck you, the realization that the non-human figure was one of the Dreams Morpheus had been trying to find. Or, to be more precise, one of his Nightmares.

“I had no wish to rule.”

She didn't seem terrifying to you. Even her appearance, while peculiar and potentially intimidating, was actually quite enchanting to look at.

Unlike the Corinthian, which was ironic considering that he bore more resemblance to a man than anything else.

“I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to freighten.”

The nightmare was seething with anger, filled with pain and grudge against her master.

Lucienne was attentively listening, without uttering a word.

“The choice is not yours to make,” Morpheus responded, calm and unyielding. “We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

His statement stirred thoughts in your head. Did he ever contemplate why he came into this universe, the purpose of his birth, his initial creation? Did he ever consider being someone else, something else, instead of perpetually fulfilling his role as the King of the Dreaming?

“That is true,” affirmed the Nightmare with a smirk. “But we can change.”

“No. We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than I am. Nor is anyone.”

If anything, this only provided an answer to your inner query. Ever since the day you met him, you hadn't considered that his duties and what he embodied could be as heavy as a boulder to him. You knew he had to make exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, decisions. But what if, deep down, he wished to cast aside his metaphorical crown and hand over his realm to another?

“If that were true, why did all the other Dreams and Nightmares choose to leave this place when you had gone away?”

“Not all of us chose to leave, and nearly all have returned,” Lucienne finally interjected.

The creature turned to look at the librarian. “Do you think they came back out of love?” Then, once again, she redirected her focus to her creator. “Or because they were afraid of what you would do to them if they did not?”

You were cognizant of Morpheus' capacity for aloofness and command, and he had even admitted his past errors to you. But as inflexible as he could be, was it truly so erroneous to aim for maintaining proper order within his realm, if it also meant safeguarding the Waking World and its denizens?

“Because I am not afraid.”

You could sense the change in the atmosphere, which had abruptly become chilly and foreboding. Morpheus pivoted completely, fixing the Nightmare with a defiant glare. “You should be.”

You leaned forward just a bit more, taking care to remain unnoticed by any of them. It's quite humorous how you continually landed yourself in undesirable circumstances, which obliged you to stay concealed and listen in on others.

“A Nightmare’s purpose is to reveal a dreamer’s fears, that they may face them.”

You might have been wrong, but even from where you were, you noticed a reddish tint in his eyes. He was in pain.

And also, he was enraged.

His shadow started to shift, advancing along the stairs and extending out, stretching right towards where the Nightmare was positioned.

“Perhaps a few thousand years in the darkness will reveal your fears.”

The shadow made contact with her feet, and the moment it did, she began to pulverize and disappear. Her legs slimmed down, disintegrating like ash, and the rest of her body followed the same fate.

She was scared, but at the same time, she held his stare with bravery and pride.

And you could see that she was teetering on the edge of tears, burdened by the spectrum of missed opportunities.

“Better that than to make others afraid,” she said at the very end. “Even a Nightmare can dream, my lord.”

With widened eyes and a dropped jaw, you watched in sheer disbelief as the creature dissolved right before your sight. Morpheus stood as an image of defeat, quietly enduring the loss of one of his own creations.

“Even a Nightmare can dream.”

In your trance-like state, the only thought that surfaced was, blimey.

Even Lucienne was clearly distraught. How had things managed to escalate to this extent? Why did events have to take that horrific twist, landing Morpheus in such a tough spot? Why all the anguish, the torment, the catastrophe?

Only one name came to mind; Roderick freaking Burgess. What would the scenario be if Morpheus was never captured? If the Dreaming was never deserted, and if his subjects never abandoned their duties?

“You feel her punishment was unjust?”

The way Morpheus immediately sought Lucienne's approval with an expression akin to witnessing his raven’s murder once again (oh, you didn't even want to remember that, much less think about anything happening to Matthew) left you instantly heartbroken.

Lucienne contemplated her reply, then she freed her hands from their entwined position behind her back. “I used to be something else. Before you made me your librarian. We all chance, sir. Even you, perhaps. One day.”

Oh no.

His response was unsurprising. Even though his voice echoed gentleness and respect, you could perceive the bitterness lacing each word he spoke following that.

“Lucienne, I realize that in my absence, you were compelled to make decisions in my stead, and I am grateful to you.”

You sensed that a 'but' was forthcoming.

“But I am back now.” There it was. “You may return to the library.”

Ouch.

That was a lot to take in all at once, and given your empathetic nature, you rapidly absorbed the torrent of emotions floating in the atmosphere. You observed the sorrow in Lucienne's eyes, the despair of feeling obsolete to her King. She retreated with measured steps, leaving Morpheus standing rigid on the staircase.

The regret was unmistakable. His frequent blinking, the strain in his jaw, his hands curling into tight fists.

You let out a sigh, bumping your forehead against the column. If only you could do something, anything, to magically erase all that pain from their hearts. If only-

"I am sorry," he said unexpectedly. "I did not wish for you to witness that.”

Oh. Oh. Of course he was talking to you. You were in the Dreaming, right in the center of his dwelling. It was only to be expected that he would be aware of your presence in his castle, considering you were practically a whisker's breadth away.

With caution, you stepped out of your hiding spot, your gown trailing behind as you moved towards the King of Dreams. The fabric maintained its shimmer, harmoniously matching the cosmic ceiling overhead and the inner lining of his coat.

"I'm the one who should apologize," you declared. "I just wanted to see you, I didn't expect to end up here.”

The instant his eyes met yours, a flicker of astonishment and surprise colored his face. He watched you as if spellbound, descending the staircase to meet you midway. When you halted, merely inches from his face, you gave him one of those smiles he cherished the most.

You were clueless about the depth of his love for you in that moment, of how you looked every bit a queen, his queen, gracefully moving in your natural surroundings.

Your dream dresses were a mirror of your inner self, each more beautiful than the last.

"Wrong place at the wrong time, as we humans like to say," you continued. "Did you know I was here all along?”

“You thought I did not?”

“Touché.”

He lowered his tear-brimmed gaze, the tips of his cool fingers tentatively grazing yours."Are you not scared of me?”

It was difficult to fathom that he was still unsure, questioning the genuineness of your feelings for him. But upon reflection, you couldn't truly fault him.

You shook your head. "My love, I could never be afraid of you. You should know that by now.”

His hands were always so tender, so delicate, and yet so sturdy. His hands rested around your waist, only to glide upwards and adhere to your skin, the dress granting him an ample view of your back. He held you close against his chest, and you melted in his embrace.

“Do you not think Lucienne is correct? About change, about me?”

"Morpheus, I wouldn't want to change a thing about you. I think this entire matter should be handled with care, from all perspectives.”

He displayed a pouting expression, gently rubbing his forehead against yours. “I have my duties.”

“I know.”

And these obligations were eating him up from the inside. Encaged in a glass cell for a century, he neglected his realm and failed to guard the very humanity that triggered the destructionn of the Dreaming to start with. However, upon witnessing the magnitude of his role, you began to doubt whether his sacrifice was worth it. Ruling over the dream domain and protecting the mortal world shouldn't provoke such deep anguish. It was consuming him, devouring his essence.

"Don't be too harsh on Lucienne, though," you advised. "She's the most dedicated being I have ever met, but I’m sure you are aware of that.”

"I am.”

It was quite a shame that she had no clue of the magnitude of his high regard for her.

"You see, when you were still confined to that cage, I had a dream. It was one of my first experiences in this realm, and somehow, I found myself here. In this very same room.”

He listened quietly, his hands softly gliding down to your lower back.

"I was lost. Everything was in ruins, devoid of life. But Lucienne was here, aimlessly roaming the castle, and she found me. The sight of a human standing in the midst of your throne room took her by surprise, after such a long time.”

The way she sustained and persevered for over a century remained a mystery. She deserved a dedicated monument.

"She was so alone, Morpheus. She was waiting for you to return.”

None of his words were intended to diminish her. Lucienne held significant value to Morpheus, not only as a trustworthy librarian but also as a competent collaborator within his domain. He only adopted a defensive stance when the topic of change surfaced, a concept he struggled to grasp given the nature of his own existence.

"And, about the Nightmare you punished...”

“Gault.”

The fact that he still wished for her name to be acknowledged despite his conduct, did not elude your notice.

"I don’t know what happened, and if she did wrong you, it's in your rights to restore the original state of things. But... she appeared honest about her feelings, about her wish to become a Dream. Is there truly nothing you can do about it?”

For an instant, you were apprehensive that he might reproach you merely for daring to discuss matters you didn't completely understand.

But his eyes held nothing but tenderness for you. "Y/N, she was made to be a Nightmare. In order to make her into a Dream, she would need to be undone and recreated.”

"But isn't that a part of any creative process? Altering things that already exist, but no longer fulfill their original purpose?”

“It is different.”

Your smile broadened as you caressed his cheek. "I know that I can't compare what you do with my work in the Waking World. Your subjects have a function that accompanies humans through their personal journeys. But, consider this: everything we make, whether it be clothes, art, music, movies, or novels, it all influences us in one way or another.”

He furrowed his brows, mulling over your words and attempting to decipher the implications of your statement.

"Sometimes, an artist might choose to redraw an old piece to make it better. A writer might opt to remake an entire chapter if it doesn't align with their envisioned perfection A composer could discard a fresh song and reconstruct it from scratch just for that note they didn’t get right. An entire dress can be taken apart, mended, and redesigned.”

Your focus moved to the location where Gault had once been. You could still observe traces of smoke and ash spiraling around the room.

"Gault wasn’t a mistake, Morpheus. She just wanted to be understood, regardless of how wrong that might be.”

He stayed silent, tracing your line of sight as he swallowed.

"Ah, but I'm only human. So, what could I possibly know, right?”

And then, he flashed a small grin. It was almost unnoticeable, barely distinguishable, but just clear enough for you to catch it.

“No, you are observant. Your words are truly valuable.”

You weren't expecting him to affirm your truth, nor to retract the punishment imposed on Gault and reinstate her to her rightful place. But that was acceptable. Because you realized that Morpheus was not simply disregarding your viewpoints.

“You are valuable, too.”

You ran your nails along the collar of his coat, savoring the clear contact, the softness of the material.

"I need you to understand that you're not alone in this. You have Lucienne, Matthew. Even Able and Cain, despite the latter's rough character. And naturally, you have me.”

For him, it was tough to believe that a genuine support system existed behind him. Given all the trials he had to withstand, the burdens he shouldered away from others, and the solitary grief he faced after the loss of his son.

Even now, distancing himself from Lucienne and dispatching his creation into the darkest void, were not measures he felt particularly prideful or content about.

He smiled. "Having you by my side is more than I could ever hope for or deserve, my love.”

You craved him as much as you needed the blood flowing in your veins. You longed for the sound of his voice, so low, smooth, and resonant, his words overflowing with love and adoration for you.

He kissed you, slowly yet assertively, before pulling away and letting you go. But now that he had a moment of tranquility with you, as the day on the other side had just commenced, he wanted you to savor every last minute in the Dreaming, before you ventured back to your world and he proceeded with his investigations.

The final moments in the Dreaming had been unforgettable, with Morpheus guiding you through parts of the castle you hadn't yet explored. But before you fully succumbed to the pre-awakening haze, you chose to contradict your prior decision and confessed that the Corinthian was, in fact, in Cape Kennedy.

The realization that his nightmare had encountered you for a second time, unbeknownst to him and with all the potential dangers it could entail, inevitably sent Morpheus’ mood spiraling downwards all over again. For a moment, you feared that he might harbor resentment towards you for not summoning him at that time. However, when you explained how cunning the Corinthian had been by choosing to meet you in a public place filled with mortals, the Endless pronounced that you had acted prudently.

Morpheus also confirmed that the Corinthian had evidently been drawn by the Vortex herself. That also signified that, should he locate her, things could potentially escalate to an irreversible point for all of you. Therefore, he tried to convince you to head back home, with the aim of keeping you shielded from both Rose's power and the Nightmare's grasp.

Regrettably, you had to reject his suggestion, as your work was far too important for you to merely abandon it. Morpheus attempted to argue, but eventually, he let the topic rest. He made a solemn promise to utilize all his resources and abilities to ensure your safety, insisting that you alert him immediately should anything unusual, or even remotely dangerous, occur in your presence.

Admittedly, having Morpheus concerned for you amidst all that he was grappling with did make you feel quite guilty. Nevertheless, there was no way you could leave Andrew in the middle of the project without a valid excuse. Morpheus understood the amount of effort you had invested in establishing your current career, and the last thing he wanted was for you to lose all that you had achieved.

By the time you woke up, everyone else was already bustling about town attending to their own affairs. The only exception was Lyta who, conversely, was strangely sick and confined to her room, not making an appearance even once.

You seized that day off as a chance to recuperate, with the lingering effects of jet lag still draining you, and the remnants of your tumultuous night further exhausting you. It was approximately lunch time when you noticed Rose crossing the threshold, her fatigued, baffled expression indicating that something was drastically amiss.

"Rose?”

"Oh, Y/N, hi," she said in a distracted manner. "Is Lyta still in her room?”

"I believe so, she was feeling under the weather earlier when I knocked. But, on that note, are you okay?”

Rose shook her head, offering a feeble smile. "I don’t even know, to be honest.”

You could only speculate that what kept her outdoors that morning was linked to her brother Jed. Clearly, things didn't pan out as she had hoped.

"Come on. let's talk," you encouraged her, softly draping your arm around her shoulders and ushering her upstairs.

"Oh, there's no need to, I mean-”

"Yes, Rose. There is," you corrected. "There's something I need to share with you.”

You were aware that Morpheus would have preferred to keep you as distant as possible from everything the girl embodied, but you couldn't just ignore her when she looked so afflicted.

And despite her apparent eagerness to retreat to her room, she consented, trailing behind you and stepping into your chamber without any protest.

You let her settle on your bed, which was still partly unkempt, and you took a seat next to her. "Firstly, tell me what happened."

You noticed her hesitation, stumbling over her words. "Well, I actually found Jed. I went there because I wanted to speak to his foster parents, to see him, and possibly bring him home with me.”

"Let me guess, they didn't permit you to.”

She sighed. "Even worse.”

“Worse?”

"Y/N, I... I went there and the police were swarming all around the house. I found out that the couple is dead, and Jed is nowhere to be found.”

Out of all the things you thought she might say, that was definitely not one of them.

“Wait, what?!”

"I know, it's insane!”

"But, do they know how they died? Was it an accident? Were they killed in their own home?”

How could she be so close to reuniting with her brother after so many years, only to have him slip even further away?

Right then and there, your intuition flared up more intensely than before. Something was undeniably wrong. What were the odds of that happening?

"I have no idea. The police didn't want to disclose any information. I wasn't even allowed near the house.”

You gently placed your hand on her back, moving it up and down in a comforting motion. "I'm so sorry Rose. The silver lining is that he wasn't there, so he's at least unharmed. Right?”

"But now, I don't even know where to start looking.”

What kind of comfort could you give her in a situation like that?

"Y/N, you said there was something you wanted to tell me. But... could you answer a question for me?”

“Of course.”

She pressed her lips together, staring at you with a hint of apprehension. “"Are you real? I mean, you're human, right? I'm not just imagining you.”

You laughed. "I am very much real, I assure you.”

"It's just... you were in my dream. I met you before actually seeing you in real life.”

You nodded. “You did.”

"So... how...?”

You clasped her hand, which felt somewhat cold and trembly. She appeared so fragile and delicate, how could she contain such a potent power capable of not only shattering the Dreaming, but also penetrating its walls and affecting the Waking World?

"Rose, I'm sure you know the answer to that.”

She blinked a few times, permitting you to gently squeeze her hand. “I think so. And you?”

She was testing the waters, probing to see what you might potentially know or be oblivious of.

You couldn't find any valid reason to not tell the truth about it.

“Yes, Rose. I know you are the Vortex.”

For a moment, she appeared flabbergasted, not really anticipating your forthrightness. She stood, pacing back and forth a few times, only to raise her voice in desperation.

"Who are you, really? What's going on?”

Her outburst was more than justifiable. She was separated from brother when she was a teenager, never having the chance to see him ever since. Then, her mother passed away just before she could uncover the true nature residing within her, which could endanger her life, due to the need to eliminate any direct threat against an Endless' realm.

It was unfair, you thought to yourself. She deserved better than what life had dealt her.

"I'm simply Y/N,” you replied. “A human being just like you. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“But how do you know I’m the Vortex?”

Was it even permissible for you to divulge your relationship with Morpheus? Could you be open about your association with his realm?

In the end, you carefully opted to omit the major details.

"I am acquainted with the King of Dreams."

"You know Lord Morpheus?”

“Yes. Very well in fact.”

She returned to the mattress, allowing her body to slump onto it like a sack of potatoes. Her eyes clamped shut, and she took a deep inhalation, only to exhale it out.

"Rose, I wish I could tell you more about why or how you became a Vortex, but not even Morpheus himself has an explanation. All I can say to you is that you need to be careful.”

"All I do is sleep, and all of a sudden I'm in everyone's dream.”

How dreadful it must feel, to intrude upon your friends' subconscious and probe their minds against their will.

"You haven't come across a man with blond hair and dark round sunglasses, have you?”

"No, not that I can recall," she specified. “Why?”

With Matthew keeping a watchful eye on her during the day, you knew that she at least had some form of protection from the Dream Lord. But was that truly sufficient to keep the Nightmare at a safe distance from her?

You couldn't afford to give her one more cause for alarm. She couldn't find out about that creature tailing her, aiming to use her Vortex abilities to annihilate the Dreaming and take complete control over humanity. It was such a hefty load for you alone, understanding how dark and warped the minds of mortals could be and how readily they could be remolded.

For the moment, you wanted her to concentrate solely on her brother, who seemed to be entirely missing, if not kidnapped by someone malevolent for all you knew.

"Let's just hope it never comes to that.”

You blinked a few times, clearing the haze from your brain, as you peered into the distance at what appeared to be a barren wasteland, gloomy and parched. It was dark and cold, reminiscent of a swamp.

What was that place, and why did it evoke a sense of déjà vu?

You glanced around, took a few steps forward, and inhaled the aroma of earth and decaying vegetation. Nothing was there apart from some patches of mud, scattered algae and rocks that either looked shattered or flipped over.

"Yep, I'm afraid so.”

A voice from behind caused you to startle, but when you spun on your feet, nobody was there except for a deer, watching you with a pair of large, glossy black eyes.

"What...?”

"Oh come on. Don't say you don't remember me.”

You were completely disoriented, unable to even recall your own name. But then, as time progressed and the gears in your mind kicked back into action, everything fell back into place.

You knelt down, gently patting the deer's head. "Of course I remember you. I'm sorry, it took me a moment to realize I was dreaming. I must have dozed off on the couch...”

The animal smiled. "Eh, it happens sometimes. No big deal. But I'm glad you're back. Things are really getting messy over here.”

“Messy? What do you mean?”

The deer's expression morphed into one of puzzlement. "Are you serious? Can't you see the state of this place?”

"I do see it," you responded. "Where exactly are we? I know this is the Dreaming, but...”

"Y/N," the deer advanced. "You know where you are.”

That proclamation sent a chill down your spine, and as soon as you looked up, attempting to detect any sign of what the deer was referring to, the surroundings trembled and shook violently. You heard the loud noise of something fracturing, splitting apart. And then you saw it, the same crack from your nightmare, widening and branching out. It continued to broaden, wildly seizing the landscape around you.

The deer was correct, you knew exactly where you were. Merely contemplating it caused your heart to plummet, and your stomach to coil into a painful knot, tugging from every direction.

Without a shadow of a doubt, you were in the Beach Land. Except now, it was just land, bereft of beach, water, and signs of life.

“No… please tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this is another nightmare.”

The deer sighed. "It is a nightmare, in a sense. But I'm afraid this is simply what the Dreaming is starting to look like. All of it.”

You slumped onto the ground, letting your arms hang limply at your sides. "The Vortex did this?”

“I assume so.”

Was your proximity to Rose that late morning in any way accountable for such a significant, vital part of your dream life, to be completely eradicated? Or had she caused such a disruption recently that your nightmare delivered the final blow?

You didn't have the time to figure out an answer, because another earthquake rattled everything again. It was fierce, horrifying, and certainly not something you wanted to see worsen any further.

"You need to leave," the deer told you. "Exit this place before it's too late.”

"But this is a dream, right? Nothing can physically harm me here.”

"That's not the main problem. If the Vortex strengthens, you could be disconnected from this land, if not the Dreaming itself.”

“What??”

Could it really be possible that Rose accidentally set off something so grave? You dismissed the thought; the idea of losing the Dreaming was unbearable. Morpheus. Lucienne. Abel and Cain. Goldie. How could you ever bear to be separated from them all, from the love of your life?

"Go, Y/N. Wake up now. Or else he'll never forgive me.”

He?

“Wait, did you-”

“ሠ𐌀ኡ𐌄 𐌵የ!”

Your eyes flew open, and all you could see was the ceiling of Hal's B&B main hall. No peculiar noises, no tremors of the earth. But you, on the other hand, were profoundly rattled, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

And that, wasn't even the full extent of what you were about to confront.

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 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 19 (coming soon) ->

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfiction

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valiantstarlights · 2 years ago

Text

This spicy fic is brought to you by the meme post by @notallsandmen , my tags on that post, and feral post-midnight hyperfocus.

[At OP's request, I'm putting the two CWs before the cut as well. The 1st one is Hob suffering (in a good way) because of slutty!Dream, and the 2nd is piss kink. 😌]

"Dream."

Hob's boyfriend, the horny anthropomorphic bastard, just hums around him inquisitively and Hob has to clutch at the sheets. He literally just came a minute ago and he still feels a little overstimulated. "Darling, really, I need to go to class."

A shake of the head, with Dream stubbornly looking away from him. His tongue laps at the underside of Hob's cock. A really persuasive argument in Hob's opinion, but... "Look. I know you don't even need to breathe down there, but some of us still need to perform basic human bodily functions and--oh, fuck--"

Dream has started bobbing his head up and down again in protest, eyes now glaring balefully at Hob. The clutch of his mouth is so good and wet, his throat tight but greedy, and Hob is the one losing the battle here. Has been losing both the battle and the war, actually. (He doesn't really mind all that much.)

"Look, please, if you won't let me go to class, then at least let me go to the bathroom to pee." Even to his own ears, Hob sounds desperate. That's because he is, at this point. Dream had been on him since early last night, simply vanishing Hob's clothes when Hob protested that he literally just got home and has yet to put down his keys.

It was so hot, seeing Dream so desperate and hungry for his cock, but their play has also never lasted this long. It must be going close to ten hours by now, and Hob is going to get urinary tract infection if he persists on holding back his pee.

And yes, he's not exactly gonna die of it, but he'd really rather not experience the discomfort.

"No."

The answer came from the room itself in Dream's voice. Hob jumped a little. It felt like being in a movie theater, surrounded by the sound of the actors' voices, instead of the their voices coming from a single direction.

(Thank god he managed to hold his pee back from that jumpscare.)

"So you can speak when your mouth is full, but you're just choosing not to," Hob concludes, brushing his silly (sexy) boyfriend's hair away from his lovely face. Dream smiles smugly, or at least, as smugly as he could, with his spit shiny pink lips still wrapped around Hob's cock.

Hob sighs. "Tell me what to do then. You don't want me to go to class, fine. I'll call in sick. You want to warm my cock forever, wonderful." Dream purrs at Hob's approval of his current course of action, and the vibration travels down to the very center of Hob's body. Hob grits his teeth and tries to breathe through it. How many times has he come since last night? How many times has he come in his sleep?

Christ, it's all so ridiculous, but Hob is so stupidly in love with this impossible being between his legs that he finds even being used past the point when his balls are empty to be arousing.

"But, jesus fuck, stop deepthroating me for a second. I'm trying to have a...ah! A conversation with you here. What about my pesky biological needs? Any plans for that?"

Dream shrugs. "Let go." The sound came from the room again and not from Dream's lips.

"I beg your pardon?" Hob did not wheeze out. No, he has more dignity than that. And no, surely Dream does not mean what Hob thinks he means.

Dream huffs through his nose and sends a vision to him, an image of Dream on his front, in bed, mouth wrapped around Hob's cock, as the Hob in the vision bites his lips, a look of concentration on his face, hips and thighs twitching a little. The Dream in the vision starts sucking, and Hob saw a little trickle of watery liquid, definitely not cum, spill a little from Dream's lips.

Fuck. "You want me to..." Hob gulps. His cock twitches inside Dream's mouth. Never mind that for now. Does Dream really...Is he really asking Hob to..?

Dream rolls his eyes at him and surfaces from his deepthroat to lick at Hob's cockhead, the tip of his tongue tense and lapping at the slit on the tip of Hob's cock.

Hob curses. "Do you really want me to--fuck, Dream--calm down for a second--"

Dream ignores him and only holds on to his thighs harder, nails digging in, eyes alight with mischief and hunger both.

Hob feels like he's slowly going insane. He curses Dream a bit in his head, his depraved, diabolical, insatiable little sex kitten, and slowly lets go.

Dream, kinky bastard that he is, seals his mouth around Hob as soon as he feels Hob obeying his order and, eyes twinkling in amusement, starts drinking.

Fuck. It shouldn't be so hot watching his boyfriend drinking not only his cum but also his piss.

"Who would've known you'd be a little piss slut, huh?" Hob asks him breathlessly, fondly, still going, still feeling goddamn strange to be pissing while in bed after more than 600 years of doing it somewhere else, like a normal, civilized human, and thrusts his hips a little.

Dream moans and goes down on him deeper, one hand reaching down so he could jack himself off. You would think he was a man dying of thirst in the desert the way he's gulping Hob's piss down.

"And to think you're usually so prim and proper," Hob continues. He knows Dream loves it when Hob talks dirty, and frankly, Hob likes the pretty shade of red that spreads from Dream's face down to his lovely chest when he internalizes Hob's words. "Probably should bring you to school with me and use you whenever as my personal urinal."

Dream chokes on his moan at Hob's words and a little trickle of piss escapes from his mouth. He is quick to rectify his mistake by sealing his lips even tighter around Hob's cock and going even deeper.

"Fuck, of course you'd like that," Hob says, panting, shaking his head. He was beginning to trickle off, the worst of the pressure relieved, but he still has some left in him. "Tell me, Dream of the Endless, would you rather drink my piss just like you're doing now, or should I piss in your hole and plug you up so you could squirt everything out when we get home?"

Dream comes with a little muffled shout, a hint of teeth grazing against Hob's cock as his throat works on drinking down the last of Hob's piss.

Hob sighs and falls against the headboard, relieved that at least that's over with. He was about to pry Dream off him so he could get out of bed and cook them up some breakfast, but then Dream whines, mouth still around his cock. He still looks needy, so helplessly horny, squirming against the sheets and sucking on Hob's cock again.

Hob makes a noise that was a mix between a bark of laughter and a whine. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he asks the ceiling. "Am I, at some point in my immortal life, going to get my cock back?"

Dream's refusal to answer that has Hob groaning into his hands.

"Fine. Fine. One more hour. I'll call the department in the meantime, and if you want some pancakes, you're not gonna act like an enthusiastic slut when I'm on the line."

Dream hums happily around him.

Hob is very not looking forward to calling in sick. He looks at Dream suspiciously. Dream looks innocently back up at him.

Yeah, no. Hob is just gonna send an email both to the department and his students.

"Good, darling?"

It has been literal hours since this morning, and Hob had only gotten his cock back around lunchtime, when his stomach growled so loudly that Dream whined in distress, probably remembering a starving Hob back in the 1600s.

Good old 1600s Hob, saving present day Hob 333 years later.

"Yes," Dream says, a bit of honey still on his lips. He has a plate of pancakes in front of him piled high with berries and drizzled liberally with honey. He looks like the cat that got the cream, caught the canary, and terrorized an entire village. "The pancakes are excellent, and I am looking forward to coming with you when you go to work so I can serve as your personal urinal. Shall we start tomorrow?"

Hob groans and bonks his head against the dining table. Maybe he should just fake his death a little earlier than usual this time.

#CW: hob suffering (in a good way) because of slutty!dream #CW: piss kink #writing this has been An Experience #am I glad of it? I have yet to decide #the title of this in my notes is 'the cake meme' because I can't call it what it is #which is 'piss kink dream being thirsty'#I am so ashamed but proud of myself at the same time 🤦‍♀️#dreamling #the sandman #my writing #good job my thumbs

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the-true-shinetales · 1 year ago

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Unity.

A force that brings people together. Like a roaring campfire on a chilly night.

Fire.

A primal element. One that heals, destroys, protects. An element that can bring forth the best and worst in something.

Foxfire.

A sacred flame of azure blue, a symbol of unity across Sinnoh. My flame.

Who am I? My name is Michael Flooffire. But please, call me Shine. I promise I am not as formal as I look. It's a pleasure to meet you.

(More info under the cut)

The current ref-sheet of the fox you see. Capable of both feral and anthropomorphic forms. For the sake of this blog: Feral state will be the default in asks and such, but anthro can be shifted to upon request. It is not normal in reality for a Pokemon known to be quadrupedal to stand in a bipedal stance. The abnormal height of 4'0 in either form can be explained through Hisuian Alpha genetics.

You may be asking, who is this fox? What is a "Shinetales"?

The answer to that is simple. A "Shinetales" is an 'ascended' Ninetales, Kantonian or Alolan origin does not matter much. It is the species name Shine took for himself upon the ascension, given his shiny coloration. His typing is Fire/Psychic.

The details of his ascension are kept purposely murky, for there to not be an oversized pantheon of Mythicals and Legendaries. Shine's domain is that of Unity. Bringing people, Pokemon, and elsewise together, and standing against what may drive them apart.

Shine himself is a compassionate and caring individual, lending an ear or helping hand anytime he is capable of doing so. If you just need something soft to lay against while you vent your troubles, he will not mind in the slightest. Simply ask.

Do that let that completely fool you, however. He is a capable battler and fighter, and will staunchly stand up for his sense of right and wrong. Sometimes he is misguided, but his heart is always in the right place. He's just... not the best at tempering it.

(MUN)

Hi! I'm Michael, and despite what you may see here, Shine is /not/ my 'sona! Just one of my many OCs. And Shine is special, because as it turns out, I'm plural and he is my headmate. He wrote most of what you see above himself. We are the Stormsoul system. I am the main host and front. If there is either no icon or a lightning bolt emoji, it is me speaking in some capacity. Mostly applies OoC. If in character and there's no emoji, it defaults to Shine. If something is OoC and has a flame emoji, then that is Shine directly speaking. In either case, story-related plot will be marked with the tag #shineposting

Thank you for reading through my rambles. I hope we can all enjoy my forays into unreality.

Minor edit: Since I never mentioned it, any follows that come from @abs0ulut1on are from us!

#unreality #pokemon irl #rotomblr #pokeblogging #pokeblogging intro #shineposting

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biomorphic-beast · 8 months ago

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Hey!

I am currently doing research into mechanophilia in an attempt to understand and explain the phenomenon to other people. As someone who experiences forms of objectum and mechanophilia, I wanted to write an essay to further explain the topic.

I was wondering if you could answer a couple questions for me related to the topic? Just some things to do with your definitions of mechanophilia, the ways it manifests for you, etc.

Any answers given could be anonymous if requested.

I always find it hard to reach out without it sounding like I'm a bot, but I thought I'd give it a shot after looking through your page!

Thank you, and I hope to speak with you!

Hello,

I am sorry to dispoint but I am afraid I cannot be of help in your research .

You are actually the second person to contact me for an interview on the topic since I started doing polls so I think its for the best I make things clear.

I am not actually a mechanophile, nor am I objectum. My attraction is robots is purely in the realm of fiction and I have had very little experience of being sexually attracted to real life machines.

Though that isn't to say I have no experinces with object anthropomorphization; I certainly remember the days when young teenage me turned to technology like Cleverbot for comfort.

The Sexy Robot Tier list is really just one big inside joke between me and my friends. I admitted that I had developed feelings for the character X-5 from Atomic Betty when I was younger on the friend groups discord channel and that somehow spiralled into this whole mess.

As to why I used tags like #robophilia, #technophilia and #mechanophilia on my Sexy Robot Tier List post. Well like I said on my pinned comment:

"With the combined efforts of the robotfuckers and machine smoochers of tumblr, I hope to create the most accurate ranking of Sexy Fictional Robots via democratic vote"

I wanted to get the opinions of people who actually were a part of these communities as well as just wanting to do something fun for the month of April before going back of my usual reblogs.

I am sorry I couldn't be of much help.

All the best,

Bio-Beast

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multi-lefaiye · 2 years ago

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one wip, one song

ty so much for the tag @jezifster!!! :D so. i have a lot of wips. quite a lot. so i'm probably not going to cover all of them, but i'll include a song and brief summary with each one :D yahoo!

a modern ghost story - a group of amateur ghost hunters get more than they bargained for when they find definitive proof of the supernatural, but it's far from what any of them expected.

dead girls - penelope scott

god died with wooden bones - 20 years after their mother's disappearance, shiloh rose goes searching for answers, stumbling across a mystery greater than anything they ever could've imagined.

beekeeper - keaton henson

cudaas - angels and demons fall in love and unionize against the gods who created them and have them at odds with each other.

angel of small death and the codeine scene - hozier

bleeding over eden - four years after the death of his husband, ink nikodemos is shocked when said husband walks through the door of his workplace one day, demanding to speak with him.

tell me i'm a wreck - every avenue

for we are both fragile things - over the course of a little over ten years, noah phan and arthur huffman fall in love and ultimately fall apart, causing a ripple effect that will change their lives forever.

soulmate song - carson james argenna

the moon hides its breath - a group of near-strangers go on a roadtrip in the post-apocalypse to try and prevent a murderous cult from potentially causing another apocalypse.

can't go to hell - sin shake sin

in seeking paradise - a year after the death of his friend beatrice in a tragic accident, knives nguyen is determined to find proof that his friend was actually murdered.

irresistible - fall out boy

wild animals - in a world where anthropomorphic animals known as moreaus are commonplace, a feline moreau named pavel is caught up in a war between two organizations with violent, apocalyptic potential.

slow dance with a stranger - danger radio

twelve stories club - four strangers meet one day while attempting to end their lives, though they ultimately all choose not to go through with it and instead strike up a friendship that changes the courses of their lives for the better.

tangerine - nolune

[dead chess wip] - a murder victim is resurrected as a shapeshifting monster, and they decide to go on the warpath hunting down the person who killed them in the first place.

revenge, and a little bit more - unlike pluto

[unnamed second person adventure] - a creature awakens in a dying world with no name, no identity, and no memories, and they go on a journey to find who they truly are.

oh the places you'll go - i fight dragons

blackwell & lomidze - a private investigator goes to investigate the disappearances of several young men, only to be drawn into a supernatural adventure beyond his wildest dreams.

wonderland - sounds like harmony

tagging (with no pressure to any of y'all <3): @skitzo-kero @albatris @wherearetheplants @nicola-writes @funky-writer-man @midnight-and-his-melodiverse aaand anyone else who'd like to give this a shot :D

#multi makes text posts #tag game #writeblr tag game #don't worry about the amount of wips i have btw

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earthtocaptainsky · 2 months ago

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Earth to Captain Sky • he/they • very gay • adult • USA based • Multifandom artist, occasional streamer, and Space Cruiser Captain

Common Topics: Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Obey Me!, One Piece, Batman & Robins, Trigun, Bungou Stray Dogs, various Kpop groups, and a lot of other anime, manga, and books 🥰💜

🪐Accounts and Codes🪐

All accounts of mine are under EarthtoCaptainSky and are available through my linktree here

I reblog art here in my little art gallery blog CaptainSkysArtCollection

Game Codes

Genshin: 617281815 Honkai Star Rail: 601108053 Wuthering Waves: 500412003

🌠Current Projects🌠

Siege SMP as Lyra du Arcturus

Siege SMP is a modded Minecraft SMP. Many content creators are part of the project and we all play individual characters. I play Lyra du Arcturus, a mage recently appointed to the Magic Council as the fire mage. I appear on other's streams and occasionally on my own. I have also been working on a small comic following Lyra's story.

#Siege SMP #Lyra du Arcturus

One Piece-Genshin Redesigns

This is my current ongoing project. I’m redesigning One Piece characters to fit within Genshin Impact. I’ll be picking an element and weapon for each character I do as well as writing a little bit about how I’ve decided they fit into Teyvat. I'll be doing the Straw Hat crew and perhaps a few other characters.

#One Piece #Genshin Redesign

🌌OCs and Original Works🌌

Oh No! The Demon Lord Stole the Hero!

This is my own story, a Grecoroman-themed fantasy with a bit of the Ars Goetia thrown in. The overall idea is a romance in the middle of a war between humans and demons. Hyacinth is the Hero with conveniently light-related powers. The love interest is Azazel, the Demon Lord. It’s styled after the general anime Yuusha story with a hero and the Demon Lord final boss, but with my own twist and a few more Western fantasy elements than you’d normally find in a Yuusha story. Most of my posts have been on Patreon, but will likely end up here soon.

#Oh No! The Demon Lord Stole the Hero! #Hero x Demon Lord

🌟Other Tags🌟

#original art (not fandom related art) #the captain (art or posts related to my Captain character) #my ocs (art or posts related to my own characters) #my art (any art I have done) #sky answers (ask answers) #sky speaks (text posts, rambles, notices, etc.)

TWs: Triggers and warnings are tagged as #tw [trigger] ex: #tw blood

🚀Commissions🚀

I do commissions, but usually not requests. You are allowed to ask, but there is no guarantee I'll draw a request. I am happy to work on projects and budgets within reason. If you want a commission or to use my art for any type of project feel free to reach out! My Commission Form is available here or through my linktree. You can also go through my Ko-Fi for commissions if r donations here. My TOS agreement is part of the Commission Form.

Things I will draw: NSFW (no public post & must follow my TOS), OCs, existing characters, D&D, graphic assets, comics, pngtubers, real people (Must follow my TOS), among other things Things I will not draw: Furries (I don't do full-on anthropomorphic, stuff like cat ears are fine), certain NSFW topics, excessive gore Other: I also do Minecraft Skins #Art Commissions

🪐Patreon🪐

If you like my art consider checking out my Patreon! I offer coloring pages, wallpapers, behind the scenes content, early access, special commissions, and Patreon exclusive content. My upload schedule is a lot more consistent and I post usually 2 times a week on Patreon. You don’t have to make a paid pledge to see some artwork before I post it on other platforms or to get select wallpapers and coloring pages I offer!

#sky speaks

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fnaf-stories-and-posts · 2 months ago

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Halloween Night at Freddy’s (Pizzaplex) [Act Finale]

Prequel fic to Christmas With A Freddy by ShadowBelle23 (Me) on AO3.

Since Evan is now being called Dave. I know that some people think that Cassidy is the crying child and Afton’s son while Dave is the fifth victim of Afton. No, it’s vice versa because of Princess Quest.

Since there’s already a living child character in this fanfic called Dave, I’ll leave the name Evan alone. Also, I wrote this fanfic a year ago and I’m going through it now to polish it up compared to the original AO3 post.

Word Count: 5,796

Character Count: 32,679

Reading Time: 21 minutes 5 seconds

Speaking Time: 32 minutes 12 seconds

————————————————————-

*Earlier*

Max and Dave were indeed nervous. They stood by Freddy’s room as Gregory and Crystal held his hands. “I wish you luck down there,” Freddy tells them. “It’s not very safe, but I trust you can handle yourselves.”

“We got this!” Max says and summons Ro-bow via teleportation. His appearance made Gregory smile in awe.

“Don’t worry, Freddy. I’ll make sure Vanny won’t touch them,” Ro-bow tells him reassuringly. Gregory gives Max his novelty Fazwatch. “I don’t know if the walkie-talkies will reach you underground. But I know this will. If you get in trouble, you can summon Freddy to you with it.”

Max then takes the watch and puts it on. He and Dave get a good luck hug from Freddy before heading to the underground. Then Freddy goes back to his room with Gregory and Crystal.

Rachel, stood in Gator Golf alone like she was supposed to. “Look alive and helpless people. We have exactly until six AM to catch Vanny. And we mustn’t waste a single hour from the nine we have,” Rachel says. “If we don’t see or hear from her in two hours, we will hunt her if we have to. We must make this night count.”

“10-4,” Isabel says. Rachel knows it’s her usher habit kicking in from using a walkie-talkie. Then the others copy her statement. Now, they wait.

With Max again. He, Dave, and Ro-bow had started looking underground for Onesie. So far, they’ve found broken STAFF bots, a bunch of miscellaneous things too, and a bunch of boxes filled with who knows what. They did find Onesie’s “bed” during their search, but no trace of her in it.

“Where is she?” Max ponders worriedly.

“It’s okay, maybe she’s around somewhere,” Dave tells him. Then they stumble across an offline animatronic dog. Not anthropomorphic. It’s small and about the size of a beagle. With its color palette being grayish-brown. His head is large and triangular with a sloped forehead, having long snout with a big nose, a gaping wide mouth filled with sharp fangs, pointed ears, and yellow piercing eyes. He has his matted fur missing in places, revealing the tarnished metal underneath a couple of wires sticking from his ears, and one large hole in his belly opening his stomach cavity, which houses a primitive circuit board. He wears a blue collar with a dog tag, Dave looks at it and it reads "Fetch".

“Not Onesie, but I hope we’re close,” Dave says and gently pets the offline dog. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I’m sure she is. She’s just hidden in this underground labyrinth of hallways,” Ro-bow assures him. They kept looking but they just kept coming across a lot of dead ends. Both Max and Dave were starting to get worried.

“Where is she?” Max ponders. “I thought she would be down here.”

“Me too. Maybe she’s somewhere else,” Dave says. As he approached a wall to lean on, he fell through it like a ghost with a scream.

“Dave!” Max and Ro-bow exclaim.

“Are you okay?” Max asks worriedly.

“Yeah!” Dave says assuringly and walks through the wall to return to them. “It’s a hidden doorway cloaked with illusion magic of some sort. It’s empty inside.”

Max and Ro-bow enter with Dave. Indeed, it was space-wise. But many things filled it. Like one of the charging pods for the Glamrock animatronics. But it was painted on in purple, with words, warnings of ‘Do Not Open’ and such. It even had purple smoke spewing from the bottom.

“What… what is that?” Ro-bow then wondered. Dave sees a light switch and they see a light turn on above a wall. On it was a large graffiti painting of a man in purple wearing a yellow rabbit costume holding a knife covered in blood with six children's corpses surrounding him. Their faces are covered by a mask of a familiar animatronic, even the Marionette. Above and under the mural, words were written; YOU CAN’T ESCAPE US WILLIAM AFTON!!!

“Well hello boys,” a creepy voice was heard from behind them. They turned around to see Vanny enter the room. “Thank you for finding my master for me. Those old bucket heads have kept him well hidden down here for a very long time. And since you have done the dirty work to find him, I’ll have to repay you for your kindness…” then takes a knife out from behind her. “In death!”

She raises her arm holding the knife. Before Max and Ro-bow got the chance to retaliate, they heard something coming before tackling Vanny to the ground.

“Good boy, Fetch!” Dave exclaims happily, cheering for the animatronic. Dave and Max hear their phones go off and see a text message from… Fetch?

‘U OK?’ It reads.

“Yeah, thanks for saving us, Fetch,” Max says gratefully.

*Ding* ‘NP ;) So, should I kill her for you, my masters?’.

“No!” Dave tells the dog. “And please, don’t call us your masters. I’m Dave, the other boy is Max. And Robin Hood over there is Ro-bow.”

*Ding* ‘Nice to meet you’.

“Get off of me, you stupid mutt!” Vanny yells which earned her a mechanical growling from Fetch.

Then they heard footsteps, “guys?” Max asks and hopes it is their friends to aid them. Alas, it was not. Just an army of endoskeletons. “Fetch, defend Dave. Attack endoskeletons,” Max commands Fetch. He barks in response, gladly jumping onto an endoskeleton and attacking it. Its teeth tearing into the metal like beef jerky.

Ro-bow starts shooting arrows at them and Max activates his Portal Master abilities while protecting and shielding Dave. Dave finds a metal pipe to use as a weapon, sure, it’s ineffective against the endoskeleton’s bodies but not the face like the eyes. Quickly he wraps twine around it and ties it on to have a grip on the pipe.

He starts swinging the pipe at the animatronics’ faces and Fetch tackles them to rip them apart. “Thanks, Fetch,” Dave says. As they continued fighting, Max tried to contact Freddy, but the watch wasn’t working. “What’s wrong with this thing?” Max asks in frustration.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” Vanny asks with a little cackle. “Having problems calling SOS?”

“I’m detecting an EMP on her,” Ro-Bow announces. “We’re on our own.”

“What do we do?” Dave then asks. “If we stay, who knows how many more of those endoskeletons will be coming? We’ll tire out and she’ll get whatever’s in the capsule. If we leave, she still wins.”

“Sadly we have to leave,” Max says. “We have to warn the others.”

“Warn them all you want. They will die and animatronics will rise to slaughter humanity and take over,” Vanny cackles. “There’s no savior for humanity.”

Max scoffs. “Vanny, there’s a lot you don’t know about us. Believe me, your plan will fail,” he says. They trashed enough endoskeletons and made their leave through the open exit.

As they made their way out, they ended up bumping into their friends as they went up the steps. “What happened?” Rachel asks.

“Lots. It’s bad. In short; I think Vanny just unleashed a bad man from a prison to keep him in,” Dave says. The group moves away from the staircase to let them up.

“Okay. That’s simple, we clobber both and it’s done,” Rachel shrugs.

“They have an army of endoskeletons,” Max adds.

“I’ve dealt with Badniks bigger than that,” Isabel then shrugs. Then their walkie-talkies went off.

“Guys, something is wrong with the STAFF bots,” they heard Elliott’s voice cry worriedly over it. So they go to find him. And they witness seeing the STAFF bots pull themselves apart. On purpose. While Elliott is destroying the STAFF bots with a pink and white Freddy and a fox animatronic. A blue bunny puppet on the right hand of the Freddy. They destroy the STAFF bots like an infestation of roaches.

“Elliott, what’re you doing?!” Gin cries out.

“No time to explain! Start destroying as many of the bots as quickly as you can!” Elliott says.

“Why?” Gin then asks. The pink and white Freddy then points with his Bonnie hand to a group of STAFF bots assembling themselves into one being. Like “The Blob 2.0”.

“That’s why!” The Freddy says in stress. “And how I could tell what they’re doing is, to put it short, I experienced a “been there-done that” moment before exactly like that. But they’re infected with a virus that’s making them do this.”

The group looks at each other. Isabel then destroys the progress on the Blob STAFF bots using her Chaos abilities while destroying the rest. Now the bots were attacking them rather than disassembling and reassembling themselves into one.

“Guys,” the pink Freddy then says urgently. Probably communicating with someone. “Vanny has unleashed Afton. I repeat, Vanny has unleashed Afton. Code Purple.” Then he continues smashing STAFF bots with the group and the pink fox.

“So, which one of you troublemakers got Vanny to find Afton?” The pink fox then asks the group of humans.

“That would be me, my friend Dave, and Ro-Bow,” Max says in shame. “We went down there to find Onesie.” Then he looks at Pink Freddy. “Also, aren’t you The Blob?!”

“No!!!” The bear says offended, facing Max as his faceplate starts clicking from being open a little and coming back to close. “Just because the abomination has a duplicate of my handsome and charming face doesn’t mean I am that thing. I have no relation to it. Second, Onesie doesn’t need you two in her life. What you did was reckless and now look where it got us!”

“Well excuse me!” Max sounds offended with sarcasm, now confronting the bear. “I didn’t know there was a serial killer locked away in the Megaplex’s basement! Maybe you should have put a notice down there! Or have provided better security!”

“We didn’t need it because we thought no one but Vanny would go down there to find him! And if you weren’t looking for Onesie, none of this would have happened!” Freddy then argues, his faceplates now clicking more aggressively.

“I was just trying to be a good friend!” Max counters. “She seemed upset and I just wanted to help!”

“She doesn’t need help! She’s fine with us as it is! And since when did you humans care about us machines anyway?! Last I remember, humans would give me and my animatronic family controlled shocks daily without hesitation or concern!” Freddy then continues, his faceplates close to swinging fully open.

“FOR THE LOVE OF-!!!” Isabel rages, sounding very angry, then turns to Max and Freddy. “Funtime Freddy! Last I recall, I’m very capable of handling myself and if I need help or not! You don’t get to decide my choices for me of what I do and don’t want! Also, apologize to me and my friends immediately! How dare you insult us humans saying we only intend on hurting you when you tried to murder a teenager you hypocrite bear?!”

Thankfully they have trashed the STAFF bots that were in the area so everyone could react. So far, everyone but Isabel was shocked by what just happened. But Isabel was angry that her face turned a pretty shade of red.

“O-onesie?!” Funtime Freddy stammers in shock from discovering the truth and Isabel nods. Now his faceplates stay closed, like his emotions recoiling from Isabel’s outburst. “You’re a human?!” She then nods again.

“As much as we want to ask questions, we now have two evil rabbits running around doing who knows what,” the blue Bonnie then says, recovering from the sudden emotional shock from Isabel’s outburst. “So, can we get back to that and worry about this later?”

“Bon-Bon’s right, Freddy,” Isabel tells the pink and white bear. “So save whatever questions you have until this is all over. For now, this is what we do.” Then speaks through her walkie-talkie. “Freddy, Roxy, Chica, Monty, meet us at the front entrance. Sun, take Gregory to safety in our suite. We need our Crystal back.”

“10-4, Superstars,” Glamrock Freddy responds.

“10-4,” Sun then says.

“I’m staying with you guys,” Dave says and looks at his pipe for a weapon. “But I can’t do much with this.”

“Here, let me see,” Rachel says and Dave hands it to her. “Upgraded,” casting a Tech spell on the object. Then Jamie added his own. “Enchanted Durability.” The pipe changes from the transformation, making it more weapon-like than a piece of junk thrown together into one.

They then hear barking as more animatronics show up, coming running to them. “It’s okay, these guys are cool,” Funtime Freddy assures the humans. “They’re my friends.”

“There’s more of you guys?!” Gin asks in shock.

“Yeah, ancestors of Freddy’s. But we don’t have time to explain,” a brown Freddy with red rosies on its face tells them. Then the Glamrocks show up with Crystal.

“Gregory is safe with Sun,” Glamrock Freddy tells the group. Then the Glamrocks look at the predecessor animatronics in awe. “Are you guys…?”

“Yes, they are,” Max assures him. “We’ll get to introductions later. I get it, we did a bad thing, we’ll fix it and get Afton back into his “Pandora’s Box” and stop Vanny too.”

“Speaking of Afton,” the black and white puppet animatronics says. Then once they said that, everyone felt the ground shake in slight tremors.

“What… was that???” Jamie then asks. More of the ground shook until they saw a large fist punch a hole in the wall before multiple hands tore it apart. Coming through the wall is DJ Music Man, its eyes purple instead of black with Afton and Vanny riding on its head. Holding onto the headband to the headphones it wore.

“Here’s Afton!!!” a male voice singsonged menacingly. They assumed it was the amalgamation creature with Vanny on the DJ’s head. Afton is a combination of animatronic and human, very disgusting, rotting, and corpse-like. “Now here’s some familiar faces I know. All together in one place; the originals, the toys, as well as my dear Circus animatronics. Welcome home, my pets. Welcome home!”

None of them looked pleased to see him. “You seem to keep getting more uglier every time we meet, Mr. Afton. Or should I call you Burntrap now?” the puppet says in disgust to Afton. “Seriously though, has surviving two buildings on fire not been enough for you to get the hint you should just give up?! Or is what you call your brain too fried to care?!”

Afton, now Burntrap, laughs menacingly. “Oh dear sweet Charlie, you always had your daddy’s witted tongue. I have to admit, he is a clever man, he is. It’s a shame he died without knowing his plan failed, which makes him a fool as well!” Then an army of endoskeletons and STAFF bots show up and surround the group.

“He was your friend! He trusted you! He cared for you!” The puppet, AKA Charlie spits at him, the insult towards her deceased father riled her.

“That was his mistake!” Afton yells at the puppet. “Your father could have never seen the potential I saw! He only cared about making children happy including you, the precious daughter of his! Disgusting! Emotions of kindness and happiness are pathetic and make people soft! Fear and terror are strong! They can control and conquer anything!”

“You’re wrong, Afton!” Charlie says to him. “Murder and domination are not justified. Sure, you got what you wanted; immortality. But I still see the same monster that took many children’s lives in the past years ago, including mine. You can spread your fear and terror all you want, it may be strong to you, but it just comes to show how far of a person you have become. You’re nothing more than a shadow of yourself. You could have been a loving father, a caring friend, and a good husband. But you threw it all away while everyone you know is dead. Now, we’re here to clean up the mess you’ve created and to end your reign forever.”

“Big talk for a little girl,” Afton chuckles darkly. “I know you’re scared of me. Because if you weren’t, you would have done me in years ago rather than now.”

This time, Charlie laughs, but it is in amusement. “Oh, I’m not scared. I wasn’t then and I wasn’t now. I was just letting karma roll its punches before I stepped into the ring. Now it’s my turn, and I will make my daddy proud,” Charlie declared before her form started to change into her Nightmarionne form. “I will be your waking nightmare!” Then lunges at Afton, knocking him off DJ Music Man’s head. Thankfully the animatronic no longer suffered from the virus once Afton was off.

The battle then has begun. The Portal Masters activated their forms and changed outfits. Fighting the endoskeletons alongside the animatronics. The original Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy changed into their nightmare forms too, which was a huge advantage in the battle.

As they fought, Rachel noticed Isabel targeting Vanny and her only. She couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, and it was kinda hard to with how loud Isabel can be.

“Vanny, you and I have done the same song and dance for many months now. And this time I’m very serious, why did you kidnap me and put Remnant in my head?!” Isabel demands. “Because of you, I can’t ever dream again when I sleep! I’m always awake whether as a human or animatronic! You took away my joy of sleeping!

“Well, if you want to know that badly… sure,” Vanny evilly chuckles as she nimbly avoids Isabel’s blade. “Before the puppet interrupted my plan. I was going to kill your human body while your conscious mind was in the animatronic. Then infect you with the Glitchtrap virus, and make you gain the other animatronics’ trust-“ but she got interrupted by Isabel putting a hand to Vanny’s neck.

“You were gonna use me as a Trojan horse?!” She exclaims angrily.

“Well, I’m glad you saved me the trouble anyway without the virus. You gained their trust just like I wanted you to, then we’ll infect them as well and kill your friends. Afton will win and humanity will fall,” Vanny cackles.

Isabel rolls her eyes from her annoying statement and Chaos Blasts Vanny against a wall. Thankfully Vanny’s costume suit was thick enough to take the brunt of the attack. But it did make her feel dazed. “Spider Rope,” Isabel casts, and Vanny’s body becomes tied up in thick magic rope-like webbing, constricting her movements for any chance to escape.

“Just to let you know, your ordinary knife won’t be able to cut yourself free,” Isabel says, seeing Vanny at least attempt to free herself. Then sees Funtime Freddy confront her after breaking an endoskeleton.

“You became Onesie against your will?” He asks curiously, which makes Isabel realize he overheard.

“Yes,” Isabel says gently as she slashes some endoskeletons in half with her sword while protecting Vanny from harm. “I understand if you’re mad at me, you have the right to be. I kept the secret from you and the others. But Charlie and Goldie wanted me to not tell you all to protect myself.”

“They knew as well?” Freddy then asks, destroying another endoskeleton.

“Yes, because they saved me from Vanny and took my Onesie body as I fled,” Isabel continues. “I never wanted to hurt you or your friends in any way. I understand you’re skeptical towards humans and I won’t deny you the right to be. But I continued being Onesie for you guys, your dad is a heartless jerk. No one should be his puppet, not even you. You guys deserve better, even freedom. Now let’s get this over with and we can continue talking later.”

Funtime Freddy nods as they break more endoskeletons together.

Currently with Burntrap and Charlie, the prior is getting himself beaten by Charlie’s advantage in her nightmare form. His body and face get whipped by the three long tendrils that make up half of Charlie’s arms to the elbow. And her skinny body while being ten feet tall makes it hard for Afton to hit her.

“What’s the matter, Burntrap? Scared of a little girl?!” Charlie says in a slightly sarcastic mocking tone. Amused that Burntrap is failing so hard.

“No! Why would I be?!” Burntrap huffs in frustration before getting slapped in the face by her tendrils.

“Ooh, someone is being a big liar,” Charlie chuckles in amusement as she can feel his fear. “You know, this form isn’t just for looks, I can sense the fear and dread coursing through you like vampires can sense people’s heartbeats. I’m not stupid to know that you’re terrified of me, Mr. Afton. You’re terrified that the sweet, innocent little girl you once took the life from, outside in the rain, has now become this. That your prey has turned tables and now has become your predator. Isn’t that right?”

Mr. Afton backs up from Charlie’s statement, bumping into Golden Freddy as the empty suit is now standing. Goldie grabs Afton harshly, keeping him from escaping.

“K-k-karma has done its w-w-work. Now it’s our turn to play with you!” Golden Freddy says it’s voice sputtering in glitches.

“No! NO!” Mr. Afton shouts, now they can hear the slight terror in his voice. “Look at you! Look at the nasty thing that you have become! Look how small you are! How worthless you are! You are wretched little beasts! I created you!”

Charlie and Goldie look at each other and shake their heads from that pathetic statement. Then they heard the sound of a gun being shot before Afton got electrocuted. Thankfully Goldie doesn’t have to worry since they’re immune to it and let Afton fall. They looked to see a man with rotting purplish skin wearing old tattered clothes. Its eyes are completely black except for the tiny white light in each of its eye sockets. Just like Goldie and Charlie. The man holds a taser gun while having an angry look on his face.

“I knew you would come back,” the man says. The battle stops as all STAFF bots and endoskeletons are destroyed. Monty then grabs Vanny from the floor but both humans and animatronics are shocked to see a living corpse of a human.

“What’s… happening?” Jamie asks curiously. Then sees Isabel smirking alongside Funtime Freddy and the Circus animatronics.

“Just watch,” Isabel assures Jamie.

They watch as Afton gets up, groaning in pain as the corpse continues holding the taser gun at him. Goldie and Charlie watch him to make sure he doesn’t try to run. “Hello Dad, didn’t expect to see me did you?” The corpse says to Afton.

“M-Mike, my boy, a little too old for temper tantrums now are we?” Afton stutters, now sounding hopeful. Reaching a hand towards his son Mike swats it harshly in retaliation.

“I’m not your boy anymore, Dad,” Mike says firmly. “And thanks to you, I’m now a walking skin suit. I went down there at the Rental to find Elizabeth like you asked and I did. In return, the Circus animatronics tricked me, gut my insides out like a pumpkin and they combined themselves to become Ennard so they could escape the underground facility inside my body. Now I’m here to make you pay for what you did.”

“Why don’t you make them pay instead?” Afton says, gesturing to the Circus animatronics which were now frowning at him.

“Because they remind me of the people I love most since you based them off of our family. Ballora is mom, Circus Baby is Elizabeth, Funtime Freddy is Evan, and I’m Funtime Foxy. They may be a bit twisted and crazy, but I love them as equally as I do my mother and siblings,” Mike says, his voice going soft as he doesn’t stop giving his father dirty looks. “Unlike you, my father died long ago before you met your demise in Spring Bonnie’s suit to become Springtrap. And now that they have you, I’ll let them decide on what to do with you.”

Then he steps back and away while still keeping his taser pointed at his dad. “We’re keeping him alive,” Charlie declares. “As much as it pains us spirits not going into the afterlife. It’s more worth it to see him suffer.”

“What he did to us, is not d-d-death. But it’s exactly what he deserves,” Goldie states. “Because death is what he wants and we won’t g-g-give him it.”

Isabel then steps forward. “Just keeping him alive isn’t enough as a punishment for what he put you through,” she gently says to them before casting a curse spell;

“Beware the Reaper's Curse, a grim spell I weave,

To haunt the living, no respite they'll receive.

Survivors of death, eternal torment they'll bear,

No solace in life, but death's release they'll share.”

Magic runes appear on Afton’s body and he begins to agonize in pain. Even being vocal about it.

“Yes, that’s good enough for us,” Goldie nods in approval. “I’ll take him back to his prison.” Then grabs Afton and teleports away. Mike puts away the taser and the Circus animatronics go to give him apology hugs.

“Now, another thing,” Isabel adds, seeing Vanny being held by Monty. She then waves Funtime Freddy over. He comes willingly and he opens a hatch in his arm. And Isabel grabs a blue star power ring from it including a tiny handheld device and a cord. She finds a USB port in Vanny’s costume head and attaches the handheld device to it using the cord. With the blue star power ring, she puts it into the device to power it.

“Let’s get rid of that nasty Glitchtrap virus,” Isabel continues. A “download” bar is on the screen, the percentage went high quickly until a beep was heard. Isabel unplugged the cord from the head and took off the costume head.

“There, you’re free now. You have no reason to do his bidding anymore,” Isabel says. Under the costume is a blonde-haired woman with bags under her eyes like she barely slept. “It’s Security Guard Vanessa!” Glamrock Freddy says in awe.

Everyone gives the woman space as Isabel helps her out of the suit. Thankfully Vanessa is wearing clothes underneath it. “So, what do you want me to explain?” Isabel asked.

“Anything,” Rachel admits. “Because my mind is trying to piece things together like someone explaining the plot to The Godfather rather than me watching it.”

“Alright, I’ll start with my situation as short as possible,” Isabel sighs. “Months ago during the summer, I was out with Bocoe and Decoe. We came across the store manager at this place, they saw Bocoe and Decoe and asked if they could do some maintenance work around here. I allowed it and the boys agreed. Fast forward, the boys are doing their work here and I had to use the bathroom. Vanny catches me off guard and chloroforms me. I wake up underground on a cot next to a humanoid animatronic body that’s Onesie.” Isabel takes a deep breath and continues.

“And I also wake up to a splitting head pain to find out my head was cut open. I didn’t know why until Marionette and Golden Freddy saved me. Then later I discovered that Vanny put Remnant in my head, and well, you get the gist.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you,” Elliott asked.

“I didn’t want to worry about you guys, besides, this was my problem,” Isabel says which her friends either facepalmed or took a deep breath in.

“Izzy, you’re our friend. If a problem happens to one of us, we deal with it together as friends,” Jamie tells her. “I still remember when you were stressed about the Chaos Emeralds, I wished you come to ask us for help.”

Isabel sighs as she looks at the floor. “Now I wish I did. I’m sorry for not asking for help then and now. This all could have been avoided tonight if I told you guys my problems rather than handle it myself.”

“But you become Onesie when you sleep?” Rachel asks.

“So, I don’t know why that’s a thing,” Isabel admits, then looks at Vanessa.

“I don’t know why either,” Vanessa admits. “It was my Vanny persona’s idea anyway. She preferred not to share anything with me. But I believe she was trying to experiment with Remnant’s effects on humans. I’m sorry for the pain I had inflicted upon you, Isabel. I tried to stop her but Vanny was too devoted to Afton to care about other people.”

“It’s okay if I hadn’t. I wouldn’t have helped you and the other animatronics anyway. I’m glad to be your friend, Vanessa,” Isabel admits to the blonde, and they hug.

“Then what’s their story then?” Rachel asks Isabel.

“That is… something that will have to wait another day. Their story is too long to cut short but to start. When William Afton was a human, long ago in the 1980’s. He murdered six children; Charlie, Gabriel, Jeremy, Susie, Fritz, and Cassidy. Everyone but Charlie got their bodies stuffed in an animatronic suit. And their spirits have possessed them since then. Circus Baby has Elizabeth Afton’s spirit possessing her and Golden Freddy is sharing Evan’s with Cassidy,” Isabel starts.

“I see, so you guys were trying to keep him from murdering any more kids,” Amelia says in understanding.

“We should start getting this place cleaned up,” Vanessa says. “You guys created quite a mess.”

“I’ll go get Sun and Gregory,” Elliott says and runs to their suite. Thankfully with the combination of teamwork and magic, it was like the battle with Afton never happened.

Also, Isabel surprised them with a menu bunch of pastries and treats that got delivered to their suite before the megaplex closed. Even allowing the animatronics to eat some, Vanessa and Gregory too.

“So, you’re a zombie?” Gin asks Mike.

“I guess you could say that. Or a lich,” Mike responds casually.

The Freddy’s got talking including the Bonnies, Chicas, and Foxys. Marionette/Charlie and Sun talked while playing with Crystal, Gregory, Ro-Bow, Max, and Dave.

“It’s interesting to see a wolf Foxy, love the hair,” Funtime Foxy compliments Roxy.

Roxy chuckles. “Thank you,” she says bashfully. “How come you and Toy Foxy look alike?” The two pink and white foxes look at each other and shrug unknowingly as to why. Mangle/Toy Foxy was no longer the rearranging amalgamation she once was, now standing on two feet like her counterparts.

“Darling, call me Mangle,” Toy Foxy tells Roxy kindly.

“Mangle, why?” Roxy asks curiously. And Mangle chuckles before explaining; “kids treated me like a toy. Pulled me apart and rearranged me. It got so bad, that the technicians gave up. I’m glad Charlie put me back together again.”

“Me too,” Roxy says, sounding grateful. “I’m just gonna say that you two look like siblings due to designing laziness.”

“I’m fine with that,” Funtime Foxy says, and Mangle nods.

Toy Bonnie then talks to Glamrock Freddy. “Where’s your Bonnie?” He asks curiously. Glamrock Freddy shrugs, “he’s been missing for a long time now.”

“Not anymore,” Charlie says as they overhear their conversation. “I found your Bonnie. I’m currently in the finishing stage of fixing him. You’ll have your Bonnie back.”

Glamrock Freddy hugs Charlie. “Thank you!” He says happily. Charlie returns the hug with Lefty joining in.

Midnight then strikes the clock and the ghosts of the dead children emerge from the animatronic bodies to play. Evan and Elizabeth float to their brother Mike and they hug happily as they’re reunited.

“They look so happy even in death,” Dave says and Max nods.

“I think they’re just happy knowing Afton can’t hurt anybody else,” Max adds.

“That, and Mr. Afton underestimated the value of friendship and kindness,” Ro-Bow adds too.

“I agree,” Cassidy says. “As long as there is light, there will always be people who will stand up against his darkness.”

Isabel is sitting down on a chair as Dr. Krankcase and Mags are summoned to do a check-up on her head. “I can feel the Remnant device under your skin,” Dr. Krankcase says. “We can have this removed tomorrow, but you’re gonna have to stay awake during the procedure.”

“As long as it’s out of my head, I’m okay with that,” Isabel smiles.

“And we also have to remove all your hair,” Mags adds with bad news and Isabel sighs sadly.

“Well, that’s fine too, hair can grow back,” she admits.

“And we’ll be there with you,” Rachel adds. She, Isabel, Jamie and Crystal hug.

“Thanks, guys,” Isabel smiles. “You know, I’ve been thinking. These animatronics need a forever home, they’ve had a history of misery for a long time and no one has given them anything. Since I have nine and three-quarters of treasure chests full, I think I should steal a page out of Eggman’s book and make an amusement park home for anyone who wants to live in Skylands. Sure, the Academy is quite large but I don’t want to overcrowd it.”

“Where are you thinking to build it?” Jamie asks.

“Probably at Dr. Krankcase’s old lab. We can tear it down and remake a new one when I decide where to put it,” Isabel says. “And you guys can help too since my problem is your problem now.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, I’m sure Master Eon would agree to that,” Rachel chuckles. “Happy Halloween guys.” Then the Portal Masters group hug together.

*Elsewhere in the depths of the megaplex*

A different creature stalks its caged area. Wanting a way out. “I-I’m Gregory,” a glitchy mechanical voice says. “I-I-I’m Greg-g-gory.” Then the being gave it one more shot. “I’m Gregory.” Now mimicking the boy perfectly.

————————————————————-

I want to thank those who have followed, liked, reblogged and commented on my works. I hope everyone has a Happy Halloween, be safe, have fun and be responsible.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fandom #fnaf au #fnaf fanfic #five nights at freddy’s #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy #five nights at Freddy’s fanfiction

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smiegrin · 9 months ago

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I've been finding it tricky to reblog as much of the stuff as I want to on here, and I've determined that it's largely because the tagging system I'm holding myself to is far too cumbersome. I think I'm gonna start trying to trim what tags I put on a post.

Changes I plan to implement:

deprecate the "reblog" tag -- if someone wants to filter out EVERYTHING I'm reblogging, I don't really know why they'd be following this blog in the first place. You can just come back manually and check out my "smie speaks" tag once in a while if that's what you'd like

deprecate "photo post" "text post" "poll" "ask" etc. Tumblr's archive system can filter by these on their own if it really comes down to it

merge "furry" and "anthro" into just "furry". I kept the two tags in case I wanted to distinguish between anthro furry stuff and just animals just behaving anthropomorphically. Ultimately a lot of my furry posts just get anthro too, making it sort of redundant.

deprecate "meme" tag. It's enough of what I post/reblog that it's kind of useless as a filter tag (much like "reblog")

This is probably also a good time to switch to changing what tags I use for adult content. I still plan to use "suggestive" for anything that's just a sex joke or has cleavage in it or something, but I think I'm going to move fully to using "smie's smut stash" for anything that I've normally used the "nsfw" tag for. Feels weird to force the community label for mature content onto someone else's post, especially considering... I don't know. Wanna do my part to not be ashamed that adult stuff exists on my blog? Don't want to put a target on my back AND OP by putting the site-sanctioned "this is sexy" tag onto it? Everyone that follows me is at least 18 anyway.

Gonna give this a test drive by sorting through some of my... ogh, 363 drafts!

#smie speaks #See? already so much more concise. No text post tag! It will be way more potent on reblogs too.#you can still filter out my girlfriend kissing/petting/breast expansion spam with “repeat reblog” by the way. That's staying #and I'm not stopping anytime soon!

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tlcwrites · 4 years ago

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By A Nose

Submission for Writer Wednesday 5/12

Summary: If you're going to talk the talk, you better be able to walk the walk. Or, proof Poe Dameron is a terrible loser.

Word Count: 1528

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU. Implied smut but mostly in passing. Some bad words. Poorly edited because as usual I finished this at like 11 and my kids get up at 5 so I need to go to sleep.

Author’s Note: THREE FICS IN A WEEK WHO AM I?

Okay, so I cannot be the only one who saw the photo for this week's Writer Wednesday (thank you once more for hosting, @autumnleaves1991-blog!) and went the direction I did. If I am the only one, well, just further proof my brain is certifiable. Make sure you comment on when you figure out where this fic takes place.

There will also be an accompanying headcanon coming for this probably tomorrow, because there was SO much material I wanted to use but couldn't make fit. Thank you @paper-n-ashes for brainstorming with me and being the best hype-woman ever.

“AAAAHHHHH.”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“FINN!!” You smack him. “There are small children here!”

But he’s too busy screaming to pay attention.

On the other side of you, Kaydel looks decidedly green. She lets out a pained moan as your vehicle makes a particularly hard turn. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

You pat her knee as you fly through a kitchy town. “Hang in there, honey. It’s almost over.”

The village elder’s well wishes still ringing in your ears, you pull up next to another idling transport. From the driver’s seat, your boyfriend winks at you.

“You’re going down, Dameron!” you holler at him.

He makes the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Eat my dust, losers!”

Finn yells back something that has you smacking him again, shooting an apologetic glance to the second row of Poe’s transport, where Snap and Karé are sitting with their daughter Nora. Snap’s hands fly to cover Nora’s ears while Karé laughs heartily.

Next to Poe, Rey holds her thumb and forefinger up to her forehead in an ‘L’ shape. “Second place is the first to lose!”

Before any more trash talking can occur, you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye and then both vehicles take off, bursting out of the dark into blinding sunlight.

You both fly over the rusty terrain, neck and neck as you navigate under rocky overpasses and around hairpin turns. From the second row of your car, you can hear Maz lobbing profanities at Chewie in the other ride. He’s yelling back in his native tongue (which you still only understand half of). Beside Maz, Leia and Han are both laughing like kids.

A shriek of joy erupts from you as you fly over a series of hills, the momentary weightlessness thrilling. Finn has both hands in the air, while Kaydel grips the safety handle with white knuckles.

Finally, you come out of a turn to see a sharp drop. You look to Poe, who grins back at you, his vehicle slightly ahead of yours. Damnit, you HATE losing to him. He’s the worst winner.

At the last moment, your ride leaps ahead, crossing under the checkered banner by a nose. The passengers of your car cheer and high-five in victory, while Poe’s passengers groan in good-natured defeat.

As you roll through the red-lit cavern, you laugh as you catch sight of Poe’s face. He’s a terrible winner, but he’s an even worse loser. Even if his loss comes at the hands of an algorithm.

Anthropomorphic cars wave you off as both vehicles enter the unloading zone. On the other side of the platform, Chewie is lifting Rey out of the front seat as she pretends to collapse in agonized failure, her laughter completely destroying the illusion. You accept Finn’s hand as he helps you up, both of you turning to support Kaydel as she crawls out of the car.

A ride attendant watches her warily. “Does she need assistance?” he asks Han.

Han waves him off, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as Maz and Chewie beeline for the ride photos. “She’ll be fine. No protein spills here.” At the cast member’s astonished look, the charming rogue gives his trademark grin. “Ain’t my first rodeo, kid.” As he and Leia stroll past you towards the exit, he catches your eye and winks. “That, and they haven’t changed the lingo since the 70’s.”

Laughing, you rub Kaydel’s back as Rey swaps places with Finn and helps bracket your green-tinged friend. “Let’s get you some water, yeah?”

Kaydel manages a slight nod, and the three of you make your way towards the exit.

Behind you, you can hear Poe and Finn bickering, as they’re wont to do.

“It’s a ride, dude,” Finn is saying, the exasperation clear in his tone.

“It’s physics, dude,” Poe shoots back. “There’s NO way the car on the outside of the turn would be able to finish first.”

Worst. Loser. Ever.

Your rag-tag alliance eventually makes it out of the exit tunnel. Ben’s waiting across the walkway, those ridiculously long arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the guard rail and steadily ignores whatever Armitage is ranting about.

On the bench next to them, Rose perks up, a smirk crossing her pretty face as she sees Poe’s expression. “Well, I don’t need to ask who won.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” the most-competitive-pilot-in-the-galaxy grumbles back, adjusting his backpack. You help Kaydel to a bench, where she quickly curls up.

Rey rolls her eyes as she forces her way into the circle of Ben’s arms. “It’s not like any of us could have actually controlled the outcome, you noodle.”

“Not without some kind of magic,” Ben intones dryly, resting his chin on his girlfriend’s head.

“How cool would that be, though?” Rey’s getting her Down-The-Wormhole-We-Go eyes. You and Rose exchange a Look™️ as she starts gesturing wildly with her hands. “Like, imagine if you could just look at something like rocks and, like, make them fly. Or make someone do whatever you wanted them to do. OH!” She looks up at Ben with a slightly manic expression. “Lightning bolts from your fingers!!”

Well-used to these kinds of rambles, Ben gently captures her hands and wraps her into a hug that doubles as a straight jacket. “No more SyFy channel before bed.”

Rose slides her arms around her husband as Finn joins her on the bench. “Did you behave?”

Nora, in all her 6-year-old innocence, giggles. “Mr Finn said a whole lot of swear-jar words.” She casts a critical eye on the young man. “You probably said enough you could buy an Elsa doll.” The ‘for me’ is unsaid, but implied.

Karé rapidly turns her laugh into a cough.

Finn glances down at his wife as Rose smacks him upside the head. “Hey! That tractor thing is terrifying. And Maz said WAY more than I did!”

“Age before beauty, Finnigan,” Maz says haughtily, waving off Finn’s ‘m'name’s not Finnigan, damn it’.

Giggling, you tune out the ridiculousness that is your found family and turn your attention to your still-sulking boy toy. “You know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist, “you make that face for long enough and it’ll stick that way.”

He huffs. “This is just how my face looks.”

“Uh huh.” Considering yourself quite the expert in his face, having spent countless hours studying every crease and line until you could have drawn him blindfolded, you call bullshit, but say nothing further.

“It is,” he insists.

“Okay,” you agree.

The King of Sarcasm narrows his eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

You widen your eyes innocently. “What thing?”

“That thing where it sounds like you’re agreeing with me but you’re really telling me I’m a dumbass.”

“What?!” You bring your hand to your chest. “Moi?! I would never.”

He huffs again, but you can see the hint of a smirk starting to break though.

“C’mon, First Runner Up,” you tease. “No sulking in Disneyland. Let me buy you a drink at Trader Sam’s, and then we can sneak off to the Haunted Mansion and make out like teenagers in our Doom Buggy.”

He tilts his head, considering it.

“Or-“ You brush an inky curl off his forehead and stand on your toes until your lips are just about caressing his ear and whisper, “-we could get back in line right now and go again.”

Even before you’ve finished speaking, Poe’s grabbing your hand and hauling you back towards the entrance, tossing a “See you jerks later!” as he pulls you under the Radiator Springs Racers sign. Their laughter echos behind you as he leads the way through the mostly empty line (thank goodness for parade lulls).

As you wait in the queue, only a few dozen people stand between Poe and his (re)shot at victory. You see that competitive gleam in his eyes start to come alive again.

“Hey.” You tug on his tee shirt until he looks at you. “If our car doesn’t win, tonight I’ll do That Thing you love.”

“Babe.” The look he gives you is one of pure torture. “You are killing me here.” He really loves to win. But he really, really loves That Thing. “What about when we come in first?”

You shrug demurely. “Then you wear Those Pants™️ tomorrow.”

Hm. Poe’s always been quick to calculate his odds, and this is quickly turning into a win/win situation. If you lose, he gets That Thing. But Those Pants™️ turn you about feral, and when you’re in that kind of mood- let’s just say Poe still has the scars on his shoulders to prove it.

“Are those terms acceptable, Flight Commander Dameron?” You smile sweetly up at him.

His licentious grin says it all. “Hell yeah.”

For the record, your car does lose a second time. And the next morning, Poe hardly has Those Pants over his ass when you’re ripping them back down his legs and shoving him backwards onto the bed.

Oh, yeah, he thinks to himself. This is better than any dumb kid’s ride.

…doesn’t mean he’s not going to ride it as many times as it takes to win.

A/N: I almost titled this “Tell me you have children without saying you have children”. I am so fucking sick of ‘Lining McQueen’. Yay 4-year-olds.

Thank you for reading; likes and reblogs feed my soul.

#writer wednesday #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #hot space droid dad #my writing #modern au #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #poe dameron fanfic

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hanzajesthanza · 5 months ago

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anyways wish regis was there when geralt screamed for the entire druidic forest to hear that he was his przyjaciel.

Sylwia of Warsaw: 'Przyjaźń is an intimate relationship even though platonic, so boasting of it to strangers is like boasting of sex.'

in context of how regis was like 'eheheh? 🥺 friend?? [shyly tucks hair behind ear]' when geralt even just called him druh in private, in the darkness... under the earth, amidst rock and stone where not another soul, where absolutely no one else could hear them.

- Możesz liczyć - odrzeka poważnie Geralt. - Nie zostawię cię w potrzebie. Druhu. Wampir uśmiechnął się, a ponieważ byli sami, pełnym garniturem kłów. - Druhu?

that geralt yelled aloud in the daylight not just that they are friends, but close friends, to the flaminika, actually to anyone within earshot...

- Jestem Geralt… Wiedźmin… Przyjaciel Emiela Regisa… - Powtórz, bo nie dosłyszałam. - Geraaaaalt! Przyjaciel wampiiiiira!

i mean, regis would intuit, he would know that geralt was only emphasizing their friendship (and kind of lying because they haven’t known each other long at all) to save their skins from the ent, but... at the same time. logic doesn't overwrite fact. and the fact was geralt screaming under torture that they are very close

#imagine regis and cahir following geralt horseback and they just got close enough #for regis (very good hearing) to be able to just make out geralt yelling that lol #regis clutching draakul's reins white-knuckled LOL and cahir asking him why he's blushing #i know im talking about friendships but so people can find it #geregis #the witcher books #c: geralt #c: regis #book: tower of the swallow #book: lady of the lake #excerpt #s: the anthropomorphism speaks through me #this very scene being the origin of that tag i use for them lol #i love the good ol' back and forth of a phrase being exchanged #and the very brief way the question about 'human identity' crops up between the elves regis and geralt... sounds like a bad joke #well avallac'h emiel regis and geralt of rivia walk into a bar...

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justjams2003 · 7 months ago

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The Desire to be Loved- 6

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, angst :(tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda @lmg-stilinski24

Masterlist

The plane engine is loud in Lyta’s ears, but luckily everyone else is quiet, sleeping, trying to adjust to the difference in air pressure. Lyta doesn’t care, she’s too happy to turn her head to the side and smile, seeing her husband. “Maybe a trip to England is exactly what she needs.” His voice is just like she remembers. Even the way he speaks is the same.

“She's sleeping. So, that's progress.” His brows furrow in the way Lyta’s made sure to memorise. “She hasn't been sleeping?” He cares so much, he cared so much. “No.” She sighs, her eyes fluttering, trying to keep him here as long as possible. Her heart fighting her mind.

“She's been dealing with her mom's estate, trying to find her brother. Doing whatever she has to do to keep from thinking about the fact that she's all alone now.” He lifts his head looking at the sleeping girl, who’s been struggling to let go just as much as Lyta.

He’s quick to disagree with her. “She’s not though.” Lyta tilts her head to the side, giving her husband a pointed look. “No, I know. And friends are great, but, uh…” She fumbles with her hands trying to explain what she means. As if interrupting her own ideal imagination.

“What?” Her eyes fall to her hands, his tongue wetting his lips from the dry aeroplane air. “When you lose your parents, you suddenly realize it wasn't gravity keeping you on the ground all this time. It was knowing you were someone's daughter. Or sister. Or wife, in my case.”

Lyta’s eyes snap to him, and suddenly the hurt is there again. She’s not his anymore. She’s not for anyone anymore. Friends aren’t forever like being someone’s everything. A friend always has an in-between plan that suddenly comes before you that lets you know forever is a lie. Hector feels the hurt then again too. He knows it wasn’t his choice, but he can’t help but apologise.

“How are you? Are you okay?” Lyta chuckles at that question, her hands running through her hair. “Probably not.” Then Hector has to realise, he can’t be here. He can’t be talking to her. He can’t let her know that she’ll always be his. “Why do you say that?” The panic is like a piano in a heavy metal song.

Then there it is for her too. The synth wave in this classical music dream that she’s concocted for herself. The hitch in her throat, the barbed wire that stops her from allowing the truth inside her. “Cause instead of being back at work, I'm on a plane to London, talking to my dead husband.”

“Ma’am, ma’am?” It’s gone. It’s replaced by the sight of a girl who looks to be on the younger side by the way her cheeks round and her eyes sparkle. “I’m so sorry to bother you.” Her voice too, it matches her glittering apologetic smile beautifully. Her eyes focus, the overhead lights make her look like an angel looking down at her.

She doesn’t stop smiling, trying to seem as approachable as possible. Her heart is fluttering with excitement, seeing Lyta finally able to see her. “Um, some guy just puked on my seat while I went to the bathroom...And, I feel so horrible to ask...”

Then, the beautiful young girl looks at the seat next to Lyta. But, not at the seat. At the person Lyta just dreamt of sitting there. “Would you mind if I sat next to you, while they clean my seat?” As if she’s asking him and not her and Lyta feels like she’s going crazy. How could this stranger possibly be asking her ghost husband anything?

But it looks so real. She smiles like she’s thanking someone without words and then eyes like the gold of her wedding ring fall back on her. And Lyta feels her heart palpitate in a way that someone her age shouldn’t. She sits upright and nods, “Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.” She mutters, stumbling over her words as she climbs out of the trance.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” The young girl sits down to Lyta. She gets comfortable, sighing just like she’s seen the humans do. “I’ve never been on a plane before.” Lyta can’t help but furrow her brows at the wording but she doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe English isn’t her first language.

“I won’t bother you, you can sleep.” It feels wrong and rude to sleep now. And something in Lyta so badly wants to talk with the girl some more. “No, no, it’s alright. So uh, London, what’s calling you there?” Lyta asks the first thing she can think of. The girl presses her lips together before she answers, clearly having to think about it.

“Let’s say I’m meeting a new friend. And you?” Lyta looks over the girl to Rose who’s sleeping in her plane seat. “My friend, she’s looking for her little brother who went missing. I thought I could help.” The girl’s eyes go sympathetic, but there’s just something all-knowing behind them.

She smiles, looks at Rose and then back to Lyta. “Oh, that’s beautiful.” Her eyes flick to the ring on Lyta’s finger. “You’re married?” She asks, but not in the way where she wants to know but as if she already does. “I was...my husband passed.”

The girl, once again as if she already knew this. “It’s hard for the living to stop loving the dead. The humans love the hardest when they know they have to let go...” Again the girl tilts her head. But this time she smiles, like she’s making Lyta realise something. “But you don’t let go...I’m worried about your heart.”

It should be the ramblings of a crazy woman, but it isn’t because she’s right. Lyta just doesn’t let go. She sees him when she sleeps when she opens her eyes. Cupid’s seen this happen to so many lovers before and it always ends in their heart being damaged. But now...now she can warn them. She can talk to them.

“It’s going to hurt. But it’s going to leave a scar if you hold on.” Lyta just sits there staring at her. It’s like a profit speaking to her. Others have told her this before but she just doesn’t want to believe it. The way she speaks, the wisdom behind her eyes, the way she knows without knowing her...

It feels too real. It feels hard to breathe in and even harder to breathe out. To let the air escape her because that’s all she’ll have left of this beautiful stranger who speaks to her heart. It feels like it’s exploding and her lungs are so full. Her gasps for air, force the tears from her eyes.

Lyta shakes her head. “I can’t.” She wants to beg the stranger. Don’t make her forget. Don’t make her lose him again. But, what does this stranger have to do with her dead husband? “Did you...lose your partner too? You speak like you know.”

She chuckles, wiping the tears from her cheek. “No, no. I’ve just seen it happen each time. It hurts me like it does you.” Is this beautiful stranger crying too? Crying with her? Crying for her? Crying because she has to, she has to cry because Lyta is hurt.

They both just laugh, how silly. Crying with a stranger over nothing and everything on a plane full of sleeping people. Lyta wipes her tears off, again with another chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” The girl shakes her head as if she’s apologising. “I have to go.”

“Lyta. Let go.”

The sun shines down on Cupid’s back as she lounges on the beach in her bikini. She knows she should be busy, but it’s just such a lovely day out. And she is where she’s supposed to be. Following the one she worries about most. And she can’t find herself to worry about much else.

She used the realm Dream gifted her, to make herself a few helpers. Not many. Just enough to carry out the minor tasks while she’s away. She won’t let them handle the soulmates, that’s too precious. But for now, her duties should be covered.

But she can feel her as soon as she walks on the beach. She lowers her sunglasses to get a good look. An excited smile plays on her face. A friend of a friend. She’s quick to jump up, just as quick back in her normal puffy pink dress. No reaction from the humans, they can’t see.

Her eyes follow Rose Walker like a hawk, who leaves her darkly dressed friend on the beach. She follows after, using her abilities to not struggle through the sand in her usual white boots. The girl bends over to talk with a bird. No one else seems to notice this. But someone else does seem to notice her, more someones than she knows...

“Why are you talking to a bird?” She’s just a bit shorter than Rose Walker, even with her shoes. The girl is startled, quickly trying to cover. Cupid knows well that humans cannot talk to animals. “I-I, I wasn’t.” She furrows her brows, her bottom lip jutting out. “Yes, yes you were.” She tilts her head, looking down at Matthew. “That one.”

Matthew recognises the girl instantly. He wants to speak, to call out to her and ask for help but his master holds his beak. Dream’s mind is already brewing with possibilities and plans. "Who are you?” Rose asks, realising that while she is breathtaking, she is a stranger. She holds out her hand, “I’m a friend of Lyta’s. We met on the plane.”

Rose’s face seems to light up in recognition. “You’re real...?” Cupid’s heart beats in panic at the thought of being caught. No humans have ever seen her knowing who she is. And these two are the first she decided to talk to. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Rose just can’t stop staring.

The light from the sunshine day falls on her making her look like that painting of the birth of Venus is talking to her in person. “I mean...you’re just so...” She can’t quite find the words. It’s like in the movies where the main character always has wind gently caressing their hair.

From the very deep depths of Cupid’s mind like an old church bell that’s been hit for the first time in a hundred years, she hears his voice. Rough and deep and everywhere in her mind. “Cupid.” It’s like the first time he heard him speak to her. She’s jarred and it looks like she’s been knocked off balance.

“Woah, are you alright?” Rose asks, instinctively reaching out to grab her, but Cupid is quick to catch herself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m suddenly just a bit dizzy.” She mutters, holding her head, trying to play it cool. Matthew watches, his head tilted. “I think, I should go home, have a lie down.” She mutters, beginning to walk off in any distance that will hide her from Rose quick enough.

Matthew thinks on his feet, or talons. “Morpheus will be there tonight.” Rose nods then makes her way back to Hal and Matthew to find Cupid. “Are you alright? What happened?” She’s leaning against a corner, still shaken by the sudden intrusion in her mind. How did he do that?

“He called my name. I felt him almost in my mind.” The raven jumps around a bit. It’s like Dream is leaning over his eyes. Ready to crawl up his throat and talk to her himself. “Come, I’ll accompany you to him. I think the boss wants to see you.”

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!

Part 5~Part 7 (coming soon)

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 1 year ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 10

Chapters: 10/? 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. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

Note: I posted an interlude with pictures on AO3, I highly recommend checking that!

You thought you could keep that little secret to yourself, but in the end, your curiosity got the best of you.

The elevator ride felt much longer than it actually was. You tried to calm your pulse while adjusting your hair and clothes, waiting for the doors to open at your desired floor. Upon reaching your destination, you stepped out of the elevator and tightly gripped the strap of your bag. As you looked around, you absorbed the lively atmosphere and energetic banter in the air as the cacophony of scissors slicing through fabric and sewing machines filled your ears.

A middle-aged woman with kind brown eyes and a big hair bun catched sight of you and met your gaze. She put her pen aside, left her desk, and approached you with a big, bright smile. As she moved closer, you could detect a sweet fragrance of roses.

“Y/N Y/LN, I presume?”

You swallowed down your growing tension and greeted her, "Good morning. Yes, it is me.”

She offered her hand and you quickly took it, shaking it lightly in return.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Amelia Foster, but everyone here calls me Amy. Please, don’t worry about the formalities with me.”

Her amiable manners and endearing reception instantly put you at ease. Your face involuntarily lit up and you returned her smile.

As time went by, other employees began to take notice of your presence. They walked away from their tasks to approach you, each of them introducing themself to you with a level of enthusiasm to which you were not accustomed. They treated you like an established member of their team, patting your shoulder, complimenting your appearance, and offering you tea and snacks as if you were a welcome guest in a warm household.

Remembering their names may be a challenging endeavor, but you were already feeling positive sensations from your potential future coworkers. There was only one person, a sullen-looking woman who stood apart from the forming crowd, not really instilling a good feeling in you. Although she exuded a sense of elegance, the crossed arms and subtle glare she directed at you gave off a rather unfavorable impression. Her deep, black curls looked as smooth as cotton, shimmering in the natural light coming from the windows. The fitting dress she was clothed in accentuated her feminine figure, and the crimson shade of her lips curved in what appeared to be a frown, reminiscent of a villainous character from an old Disney movie.

You couldn't dwell on it for too long because the sound of a door opening caught your attention. Before you could even turn your head, a pair of small yet strong arms wrapped around you, almost knocking you backward. A piercing scream reverberated through the room as Ella began to hop up and down, forcibly pulling you along with her. You felt pleased to see that, even after several years of separation, she still retained her youthful energy.

You returned her hug, feeling a bit self-conscious in front of the team witnessing such a display of affection. After removing herself from the embrace, she had a tear-filled gaze with her big emerald eyes. Her blonde tresses had extended in length, replacing her former cute bob with a style that framed her facial features more elegantly. Her makeup was more natural and simple compared to the thick eyeshadow she once loved utilizing.

Although she still resembled her younger self, you could clearly see a fully matured woman before you.

In a brief exchange, Ella conveyed her immense pleasure at reuniting with you, unafraid to show her exuberant emotions in front of her team. It was striking to you how everyone seemed more like a family than just a group of workers. It brought back memories of your previous job and of how Paul used to treat you at Fawney Rig.

Sometimes, you actually missed the man.

Taking your hand in a tight grip, Ella pulled you out of the room without much ceremony. The office appeared to be quite spacious, with multiple rooms and a long corridor connecting all of them. Your surroundings were completely unfamiliar to you, but you could visualize yourself regularly pacing back and forth across the location during work hours on a regular basis.

As you entered her office, Ella invited you to take a seat on the cozy couch for an informal conversation. After removing her high heels, she positioned herself against the velvety cushions, lifting her legs and comfortably stretching out. "Doesn't this bring back memories? It’s been so long since we’ve had a proper chat.”

You flashed a smile and took off your bag, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "And now look at you; a successful married woman managing an empire.”

With a hearty chuckle, she proclaimed, "It is not the big castle with rainbow unicorns I wished for as a child, but I’m proud of what Oliver and I have built. After all, he is my Prince Charming.”

"It does feel like a dream just to be here right now. You've accomplished so much more than I ever could.”

Ella’s beaming face switched to a slight frown, and in a rapid motion, her hands found themselves resting atop yours. “Y/N, your talents will bring you far in life. I’m sure of it.”

For the first time, you were inclined to believe it.

"I want to apologize again for not reaching out. I really should have called you," she continued.

You shook your head lightly. "I didn't call you either.”

"I know that you only wanted me to have my space. Besides, life as an adult can get bumpy every now and then," she said, showing her understanding.

“Tell me about it.”

Ella let out a deep sigh, stroking your arm up and down in a friendly manner. "How about we catch up? You're not in a hurry, are you?”

Your friend had missed out on a significant amount of things over the past couple of years alone. Fortunately, you had decided to allot the entire day for yourself, being certain that discussing each other's lives, as well as recollecting events from the past, would demand a prolonged stretch of time before initiating the informal interview.

Regrettably, you were unable to divulge the complete particulars of your relationship with Morpheus, forced to devise a creative option with alterations to the original story, in an effort to fabricate a statement that would safeguard his identity. Despite this, your friend was exceedingly ecstatic upon hearing that you had found a good man. She immediatly expressed her desire to meet him in person, in addition to the vigorous impulse to strike your former lovers in the face.

The conversation progressed just like that, and eventually, you spoke of your close friend Hob Gadling, as well as your father's health problems and the struggles you had to go through to take care of him. Upon hearing the news, Ella was awed and almost broken into tears. She frequently visited your house and came to appreciate your father a great deal as you two grew up together. You could still vividly remember the sleepovers, the fake tents you used to build with sheets and chairs with his joyful participation, and the galaxy projector you both loved to admire as it cast beautiful stars and nebulae on the ceiling while drifting off to sleep.

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. You should have called me then," she said apologetically. “I feel like an awful friend right now. I never once asked you how you were doing,”

"I couldn't call anyone, Ella. That was not your burden, it was mine to deal with,” you explained. “I should offer you the same apology."

“Not really. You needed that more than I did.”

As you shifted your attention downwards, you noticed that she had begun to scratch the back of her right hand. Her skin immediately reddened as soon as her fingernails came into contact with it.

Without a second thought, you took hold of her left wrist and pulled it away. "I see that you never got rid of your old habit.”

Ella pressed her lips together, avoiding your eyes. “I did for some time, after meeting Oliver. Still, the itching comes back whenever I feel stressed or worried.”

"If you are concerned about me, don't be. I promise you, everything is okay now," you clarified reassuringly.

“I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

“It was better that way,” you stated. “You were following your dreams.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

"But it makes me feel better to see what an extraordinary woman you have become."

Ella let out a light chuckle, lightly tapping the damp skin under her eyes with her fingertips. "I'll cry if you keep doing that," she said with a wry smile, her voice tinged with a hint of playfulness.

"You already are!”

"Oh, shoosh.”

In an instant, it felt as if the two of you had never been apart. The nervousness and anxiety lingering in you easily dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. With every shared secret and heartfelt joke, the bond between you grew as strong as it ever was, solidifying your certainties and eradicating your insecurities.

As time passed, the conversation eventually moved to the professional aspect. Ella began to inform you about the specific duties and tasks that their former Fashion Designer had been responsible for, as well as what was expected of you as his successor. Not only would you be in charge of the creative direction and elements for all future lines of their brand, but they also desired a more innovative approach to portraying their products in magazines and advertising boards. As Ella guided you through a tour of their entire structure, the Photo Studio and Graphic Laboratory took center stage, emphasizing their importance in achieving these goals.

To you, everything you were witnessing felt like an incredible dream coming true. The opportunity to be a part of this environment and take on such significant roles was beyond anything you had ever imagined and wished for.

"I know this is a lot to take on, especially since you haven't worked directly in this field," Ella acknowledged. "But I believe in your abilities and I trust that you would be the perfect choice.”

Being aware of your own capabilities, you placed your own faith in the knowledge you had acquired through your studies and the personal work you had accomplished over the years. You had taught yourself the skills that you believed were ideal for the position that Ella proposed, investing countless hours in various online courses on Design, Photography, and 3D development.

"I know I told you to take your time to decide, but I hope you can give me a response as soon as possible. We need to prepare for the Fashion show that will take place in three months, and without a designer, we are completely unprepared now.”

As Ella further elaborated upon the topic at hand, you couldn't contain your delight and kept examining the surrounding environment. A comparable chance had never arisen to you before, and you were determined not to let it slip away.

In the end, you gave her a piercing gaze, all the while maintaining a determined expression. “I accept.”

Ella found herself blinking multiple times, trying to confirm if she had understood your words correctly. “Wait, what?”

"I don't need to think about it, Ella. I know exactly what I want, and you can count on me.”

The tight, warm hug she gave you lasted for a few seconds, leaving you breathless with its robust squeeze. In response, Ella expressed her gratitude by using every bit of air in her lungs.

“Lucienne,” "Morpheus called his librarian's name as he walked along the shelves. “Did you want to see me?”

The woman raised her face from the sizable volume she was contemplating, her glasses almost slipped down from her nose doing so. "Yes, my lord," she responded. "It appears that I omitted something in my previous research. About your human lady.”

Morpheus' attention was immediately piqued. “Tell me more.”

Lucienne directed her gaze at the Lord of Dreams, releasing a deep sigh. She turned the book around to grant him a view of its contents. "Perhaps you should see for yourself," she suggested.

Morpheus hesitated, then took a step closer to examine the book, which lay spread open in front of him. His eyes scanned the words imprinted on the bound scrolls, and a frown formed on his countenance as he absorbed their revelation.

He tilted his head upwards, once again meeting Lucienne's worried eyes.

"Sir, are you going to tell her?" she asked.

Morpheus allowed his fingertips to gently glide across the page, engaging in deep contemplation to determine what alternatives were available to him.

"Uhm, if I can make a suggestion, I think she should probably know," Matthew intervened, flying over the table and landing next to Morpheus' hand.

"You are not incorrect, Matthew,” he confirmed. “"Nonetheless, this needs to be approached with the utmost caution.”

For a moment, the raven glanced at Lucienne before redirecting his dark, glassy eyes towards the Endless once more. “I suppose so. Still, this is something she might find interesting to learn about. I definitely would.”

Being someone with extensive knowledge surpassing that of a typical mortal regarding his realm, his siblings and their place in the universe, Morpheus understood that the amount of information you had acquired up until this moment was already quite overwhelming for you to process alone. In light of this, the Endless wanted to give you the necessary time to adjust to the several truths you had discovered. He aimed to avoid making the already complex situation worse and refrain from adding fuel to the active fire.

"Thank you, Lucienne," he said, closing the book. "I shall reflect on this matter.”

Lucienne nodded, watching as Morpheus silently left with the tome tucked under his arm, his coat billowing behind him as he walked briskly.

Upon arriving at your apartment, your mind was torn between two conflicting emotions. On one hand, you were in complete disbelief, yet also content and motivated, as the job of your dreams had materialized before your eyes. At the same time, you couldn't shake off the memory of the peculiar meeting you had earlier in the day, where those strange ladies discussed topics that were simply inconceivable to you.

The women you encountered seemed particularly eager in their efforts to portray Morpheus in a negative light. It seemed that their goal was to persuade you that your decision to align with him was impulsive and unwise. Furthermore, they claimed that the Lord of Dreams had once been married and conceived a child, whose name and story were well-documented and extensively explored in various literary works familiar to your kind.

The Fates, also known as the Kindly Ones, proclaimed that the Endless was directly responsible for the tragic fate of Orpheus. If the published books were indeed based on factual events, it was difficult for you to comprehend how the Endless could be solely and entirely accountable for the disastrous downfall of his son.

According to Greek mythology, Orpheus was the child of Calliope and Apollo, described as a famous musician, prophet, and celebrated poet. In the childhood fairytale you had with you, it was mentioned that, in certain instances, the King of Dreams was indeed associated with Apollo.

Despite your extensive research, you didn't manage to uncover any sort of information about Orpheus losing all his flesh at the behest of Apollo. You were on the verge of approaching Morpheus with a query, as the idea of him killing his own child was unimaginable and hard to believe.

However, Morpheus had started to open up about his past, describing the unfortunate circumstances that Nada had to endure because of his sorrow and broken heart. This made you question whether you should delve deeper into his personal matters, considering the sensitivity and privacy of the topic, which he probably wanted to forget.

That night, when you found him in your dreams, you realized that it wasn't the most appropriate moment to bring it up. With a warm smile masking your curiosity, you used the delightful news of your employment as a diversionary tactic. Morpheus, from his side, displayed no signs of suspecting anything, wholeheartedly congratulating you on your deserving success.

You were unaware that he was also hiding a crucial secret from you.

A month later, the job you took at Corbyn&Jones proved to be one of the most demanding positions you've ever held, but also the most enjoyable and fulfilling role you could have asked for. When you first met the CEO, you had to make an effort to remain composed and ensure that your friendship with his wife wouldn’t impact your performance. However, as you worked alongside Oliver, you became more familiar with each other and developed a mutual respect. You discovered that he was truly open, easygoing, and down-to-earth.

On top of that, your colleagues proved to be incredibly kind, supportive, and engaging individuals to work with. It didn't take long for you to form strong friendships with most of them, casually enjoying tea or coffee together during your short breaks.

In the office, you could rely on them to successfully complete tasks and execute projects. Every minute spent there felt more like a fun occurrence rather than a stressful routine focused solely on making money. Everything was perfect, in proper sync with the ideal working environment you had envisioned for yourself.

If there was anything to nitpick and scrutinize, the one factor that would be considered an impediment was that one woman, Maya Davies, who glowered at you from afar on the day you came in. According to what Ella told you, she used to be Isaac's right-hand person and had aspirations of becoming the new Fashion Designer of the company. Whenever you had to spend time alone with her for the sake of your work, she seemed to scrutinize you with contempt, speaking minimally and making a few passive-aggressive remarks. Ella admitted that Maya had a tendency to be boastful in her behavior, but she was still considered a valuable addition to their team for her marketing skills.

Eventually, you accepted the situation as it was. The issue with Maya was a minor obstacle that had minimal impact on the progress of your ongoing projects and dwelling on it would be a waste of time and effort.

Furthermore, your relationship with Morpheus remained smooth, even though you still couldn't define its true nature despite the clear affection he had for you. He would occasionally visit you in the Waking World or join you on your extensive nocturnal adventures in his realm of dreams, adding more depth to your ever growing connection and intimacy.

That night, you stood by Morpheus' side in front of the old tavern once known as The White Horse. Instead of its usual decrepit state, it appeared fully intact and emanated a typical medieval atmosphere from within.

"Wait, is this...?”

"It is the year 1389," he confirmed. “Come with me.”

You followed him with a sense of bewilderment, observing as he opened the door and gestured for you to step inside before him. As soon as you entered the tavern, you were immediately captivated by the soft glow of candlelight and the sight of numerous citizens adorned in antique garments. The tavern was bustling with men and women, sipping from large wooden mugs with metal handles, engrossed in lively conversations that filled the air with a vibrant murmur.

Morpheus guided you to an unoccupied table and pulled out a chair for you. Without saying a word, you settled yourself next to him and took another moment to inspect your surroundings.

“Can they see us?”

“They cannot. This is a recollection of the past,” he explained.

"A memory within a dream? I’m curious now. Why did you bring me here?”

Morpheus’ lips raised into a small grin as he looked at the farthest table a few feet away from your position. Following his line of sight, you noticed a group of men joyfully indulging in their leisure time at the tavern. They sat comfortably, clutching large tankards in their hands. Among them, you immediately recognized a familiar man, someone you couldn't possibly overlook.

“Hob?!”

There was no room for error, it was him. He had shoulder-length hair, a full beard, wore a dark brown cloak, and what appeared to be a commoner uniform with long sleeves underneath. He laughed and enjoyed his alcoholic drink, completely unaware of your presence and the future that awaited him.

Morpheus simply made an affirmative sound, silently observing the scene next to you.

And then, you heard Hob speaking, while Morpheus waved his hand in a subtle gesture to silence the other sounds around you and amplify the volume of what caught his interest.

“Look, I’ve seen death. I lost half my village to the Black Death. I fought under Buckingham in Burgundy, it’s not like I don’t know what death is.”

Hob's demeanor suddenly turned serious as he addressed the other men, sharing his perspective with them. “Death is… stupid.”

His friends chuckled. “You’re a fool, Hob.”

“Nobody has to die,” he insisted. “The only reason people die is… is ‘cause everyone does it. You all just go along with it. But not me.”

You couldn't help but let out an amused guffaw, vigorously shaking your head. While you could easily recognize his common attributes, it was apparent to you that Hob was clearly inexperienced and quite immature in comparison to the person he would eventually become.

"I've made up my mind; I'm not going to die," he said confidently.

The men around him burst into laughter, but Hob maintained his smile, unwavering in the face of their expected reaction.

“Hobs, death comes for every man.”

“You don’t know that, I might get lucky. There’s always a first time. There’s so much to do, so many things to see.” He took hold of his tankard again. “Women to swive. Ale to drink. People to drink with.”

With that, Hob raised his arm and the others followed suit, cheering and clinking their tankards together in a lively toast.

Morpheus gestured with his hand once more, directing your attention to two other figures, a man and a woman, who also bore a striking resemblance to someone you knew. A younger version of Morpheus, with his longer hair and a dark tunic that matched the time period, stood before his sister, who in turn was disguising herself as a nun.

They were both the same, except for their different appearances.

With a warm, affectionate smile, you turned to the Morpheus sitting beside you, gently running your fingers through his short, tousled locks. "Nice hair," you remarked, referring to the style he had in 1389.

Morpheus returned your smile with a slight curve of his lips.

“Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?” Past Morpheus asked.

Teleute looked at him with a satisfied expression. “You could find out.”

He appeared delighted, intrigued by his sister's statement. "How?”

“I could grant him his wish,” she replied.

The other Endless raised his eyebrows, his mouth spreading into a mischievous grin. “Do that and he will be begging for death within a century, I assure you.”

“This will prove very interesting.”

Both siblings turned their gaze back to Hob's table, listening to the ongoing conversation among the mortal men.

“What will you do with all that life?”

“I can find better friends than you, I can tell you that.”

You giggled once more, resting your head against your palm as you propped your elbow on the tabletop.

Death then looked at Dream once more. “Are you gonna tell him, or should I?”

Morpheus gazed at her with the same smile as before, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes. “I shall.”

As he turned to make his way to the table, Teleute replied, "Very well, little brother." She watched him walk away with a satisfied expression on her face, and before turning away, she repeated, "Very well.”

Morpheus approached Hob's seated position with deliberate steps, coming to a stop and placing one hand on top of the other. In that moment, you observed that he had adorned himself with the same ruby that Roderick Burgess had stolen in 1916.

Silence descended upon the ones present as Hob’s attention was captured by with the enigmatic figure who stood tall near his chair.

“Did I hear you say you have no intention of ever dying?” Morpheus inquired.

Hob showed a hint of confusion, but he still went along with it, letting out a faint chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then you must tell me what it’s like,” Morpheus stated.

Hob continued to laugh.

“Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling,” Hob's face suddenly registered shock as he heard his name spoken by a complete stranger. “In this tavern of the White Horse in 100 years.”

Hob's companions laughed wholeheartedly, while Hob himself remained surprised. He showed an increased level of curiosity towards the man in front of him.

“A hundred years and I’m Pope Urban,” said one of his friends.

Meanwhile, Morpheus swiftly turned to his sister, who gave him an encouraging nod. He responded to her gesture with equal confidence.

“Don’t mind them,” Hob interjected. “A hundred years’ time, on this day?”

Morpheus agreed with an affirmative tilt of his head.

“I will see you in the year of our Lord 1489, then.”

After a moment of contented reflection, the Endless departed, holding the men's inquisitive gazes until he disappeared from view.

“Who was that, then, Hobsie?”

“Haven’t a clue. But tell you what, I’ll ask him in 100 years’ time.”

The surroundings suddenly became brighter and blurrier. You could still hear the voices of people conversing in the distance, but it was as if someone had turned down the volume of a television, leaving only a faint, unintelligible noise in the background.

And so, you turned to Morpheus, who met your gaze with silence, his eyes unwavering.

"Hob has told me about this day. It's remarkable how vivid his memories are, considering how much time has passed.”

And then your gaze shifted to his chest, searching for the missing ruby that was nowhere to be found. You delicately touched the fabric of his shirt with the tips of your fingers, tracing a path down to his upper abdomen.

“You’re not wearing the pendant.”

“No. The ruby was destroyed.”

“Oh.”

“No matter. The power that was enclosed into that jewel has returned to me.”

You looked down, taking one of his hands between yours, firmly gripping it as you placed it on the table. "Sometimes, I find myself pondering what you revealed to me that day. It pains my heart whenever I recall seeing you trapped in that cage.”

“Y/N-”

"You're okay now, right?”

Morpheus parted his lips as if about to respond to your question, but instead, he moved his beautiful blue eyes to the side, lost in contemplation. After a moment, he tightened his hold on your hand, offering a reassuring caress. “I am.”

A sense of tranquility washed over you as you heard his response. You reciprocated with a warm, genuine smile and gently brushed the surface of his palm with your thumb. You remained in that position for a while, gazing at each other's faces in silence.

Meanwhile, your mind drifted to the Fates and their revelations about Morpheus' son, yet you still lacked the courage to broach the subject in his presence. Once again, you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself, even though the burden of the secret was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as time passed by.

"Dad, do I have any Greek roots?”

As soon as you posed that question to him, your father suddenly choked on his water. Tears welled up in his eyes as he desperately tried to regain his composure, coughing violently. You repeatedly patted him on the back, offering comfort as he gasped for breath.

"Are you all right?”

“Y-yes,” he declared, loudly clearing his throat. “I’m okay, I was drinking too fast.” You waited for him to stabilize himself, inhaling at a slower pace. “Greek roots? Where did that come from?”

"One of my coworkers asked me if I’m partially Greek because of my features," you lied with a subtle shrug. "I don't know much about our family, so I was curious.”

Your father demonstrated a rather odd nervousness, wiping his mouth and kneading the rear of his neck. "Well, if you do, it certainly must be from your mother's side.”

Upon mentioning his lover, you noticed a significant degree of melancholy and distress befall on your father. Your chest tightened with the sight of his despondent state, which led you to hastily grasp his shoulder in an earnest way.

"I'm so sorry, dad. I know how much it pains you to talk about her.”

He released a shaky sigh, smiling at you. “It’s okay, lovey. It’s been a long time.”

“But you still haven’t moved on.”

It took a brief moment for your father to come up with a reply. “No, I have not.”

"I can only imagine how hard it's been for you," you said. "The day I was born is also the day she passed away. Sometimes, I can't help but think that it was all my fault.”

“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “My dear, none of that happened because of you.”

“I just… I wish you could be happy, Dad.”

“Oh, but I am, sweetie. Even more so now that you’re following your dreams.”

You absentmindedly started toying with the food on your plate, rotating the fork on its surface. "Don't you get lonely? Now that Miss Bailey is no longer assisting you 24/7.”

He scoffed. "As good as she is in her profession, having her glued to my ass all day was not pleasant.”

A slight laugh escaped your throat. "I bet she's glad too. You drove her nuts.”

"Come on! Do you know how frustrating it is to have her following you to the bathroom's door? Good thing that I could still clean my butt on my own.”

The process of finishing your lunch proved to be a considerable challenge, with you chortling at all the jokes that your father offered. You recalled Morpheus' words about the connection between the two of you, which coud have enabled him to directly benefit from an Endless presence through you. As a result, seeing him sitting at the table, beaming and radiating vitality, made it seem as though he had never been ill in the first place.

And yet, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling of something mysterious lurking beneath the surface. There was an indescribable sense of an imposing secret being concealed from you, leaving you unable to pinpoint exactly what it was.

Each day that went by, you became increasingly adept in your profession. The constantly rapid pace didn't seem to faze you, as you were completely absorbed in your creative pursuits. You would bring your unfinished assignments home and continue working on them until late into the night, fully engrossed in the process, without even glancing at the clock. Morpheus had to visit you to make sure everything was under control, as your absence from the Dreaming during sleep time was deemed unusual.

It was both amusing and flattering to see him sulking for attention, but the last thing you wanted was to cause him any worry, particularly in light of the past events involving Nada.

More often than not, you had to assure him that you would join him soon enough, rather than letting your work consume you until the early hours of the morning.

If anything, immersing yourself in a busy schedule helped keep your mind occupied with a multitude of things to process, preventing you from lingering on what the Kindly Ones had told you once again. The more you found yourself in his company, the harder it became to suppress your curiosity as it swam through you and threatened to emerge. Simultaneously, you yearned to provide him with solace for his profound loss, regardless of the passage of time.

One night, you came to the realization that you simply couldn't withhold it from him any longer. It took you a moment to recall your intentions as you crossed the threshold from your world to the realm of dreams, but once you did, you were completely unsure of how to initiate the conversation.

Although he was showcasing a variety of marvels and breathtaking landscapes that you could only imagine stumbling upon in the Waking World, you found it difficult to uphold your attentiveness on Morpheus’ face.

Eventually, the Endless concluded his narrative and turned his frowning gaze towards you. “My love?”

As soon as you heard his voice calling you, you turned back to him in a hazy state. “Mh?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“What is?”

“You are not listening to me. You seem… lost.”

“Poor Y/N, so naive and lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Yes you are, my child. We came to warn you, little one.”

You pondered the responses you could provide, but every excuse appeared feeble and ineffective.

"I have something to talk to you about,” you admitted in the end.

Morpheus tilted his head slightly. "Go on.”

With the opportunity to finally release the burden from your chest, you now felt uncertain, almost fearful, as you looked into his profound and intense eyes, preparing to discuss something so personal and dramatic. You were tempted to abandon the idea, to fabricate a different story and redirect his attention elsewhere, but you had never been skilled at deception. It wasn’t your forte.

Taking a deep breath, you began to explain. "The day I got my job, I encountered someone on my way to the interview. Three women dressed in black materialized before me, introducing themselves as 'The Kindly Ones'.”

A change came over Morpheus immediately. You could clearly notice the tension in his jaw, and his demeanor underwent a complete shift. His body became utterly motionless, as if he had been struck by a spell leading to his paralysis. "What?”

Your heart raced, as his evident shock mixed with anger did not bode well.

"I don't even know what they wanted from me," you continued with your speech. "They spoke in riddles, but... I believe their intention was to warn me about something. About... you.”

You could sense the ground slipping away beneath you as he closed his eyes in surrender.

"They revealed things to me, Morpheus. They spoke about your past, about something I shouldn't have learned about. Not like that.”

Crossing your arms, you felt a tremble shaking you as the wind picked up and the sky darkened once again, mirroring the alteration in his mood.

At that moment, you came to the realization that you probably should have let it go, brushed it off, and moved on from it all. But despite knowing it was a wrong thing to do, a part of you was desperate for more information directly from the source.

Morpheus remained silent, his neck growing even more rigid, his eyes sparkling as he fixed his gaze upon you with even greater intensity.

Yes, you should have stopped right there and then, as you knew. And yet, you failed to do so.

"They told me you were married to Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry. And that you had a son, Orpheus... who, according to them, perished by your own hand.”

“Y/N.”

The way he uttered your name sent chills down your spine, his voice resonating with a terrifying power, both formidable and filled with an ominous presence.

"Choose your words wisely.”

For the very first time, you were feeling positively intimidated by the man you had fallen in love with. Your enchanting Dream, so kind and wonderfully magical, now felt like a haunting nightmare ready to consume you.

"Please forgive me, I... I didn't mean to upset you," you said in your defense, as futile as it may be. "I realize that this is not something to be taken lightly. I simply want to understand how you're feeling about it, what led them to believe you were at fault.”

Hearing that, Morpheus appeared to grow even more enraged. "You dare meddle with my affairs?”

Your eyes were so wide that you thought they could pop out of their sockets at any random point. “No! I would never do that!” A loud thunderclap made you jump on the spot. "Morpheus, please. I’m trying to make sense of what I’ve heard. All mortals are familiar with the story of your son, what happened with Hades, with Eurydice, with the Maeneads. It has been documented in numerous books and performed in countless theatrical works for many years.”

This time, the Endless remained silent, but the way he scrutinized you now, with such a stark and heartless expression, made you yearn to rewind your dream and restrain yourself from speaking the truth in the first place.

You let the cat out of the bag, and there was no way for you to put it back into it.

"If these depictions are based on reality, if our narrative is grounded in actual events, why are the Fates spreading lies about you?”

As menacing and invincible as he could be, Morpheus was not the monster that everyone portrayed him to be. Roderick and Alex Burgess, the former basement guards, now the Kindly Ones. How much suffering and persecution did he have to endure?

Eventually, Morpheus revealed a truth that was not what you were expecting to hear.

“Because it is, in fact, quite true.”

You looked at him in disbelief, carefully observing his body language and searching for a glimmer of hope in his somber, reddened eyes.

“I don’t believe it,” you declared.

“Whether you do or don’t, it cannot change what I have done.”

"Are you suggesting that the Maeneads were not real? That you were the one who tore your own son apart? No, I'm not buying it. I know you are better than that.”

He approached you, closing the distance until his face was just inches away from your nose. The version of him standing before you was hardly recognizable, twisted by a darkness far beyond what you could had ever imagined.

But deep down, you knew you shouldn't have been surprised. After all, he was not only the King of Dreams but also the ruler of Nightmares.

“You know nothing about me.”

The words stung, but you made a conscious choice to stay strong and unwavering.

"You're right, maybe I don't. But I trusted you when nobody else did, even without you speaking a single word to me.”

Morpheus couldn't deny the strength of your will, but given his pride, you should have anticipated his next response.

"I never sought your trust. I did not ask a human like you to come to my aid.”

With regards to the reason for his sudden change in temperament and the subsequent surge of rage, it was understandable to witness him shielding himself with a cold and emotionless temperament. Nevertheless, the venom in his words found a way to penetrate your chest, causing your heart to constrict in pain. You took in a sharp breath, and a single tear escaped from the corner of your eye, rolling down your cheek.

"This isn't fair," you replied, your voice breaking.

“No. It is not.”

You could tell that there was something more, something he clearly didn't want to reveal. You understood that he didn't desire to hurt you, as causing harm to others, like he did to Nada, was his way of concealing and alleviating his own suffering.

“Please, don’t do this. I was taken by those three, just tell me what happened. What truly happened.”

Morpheus gulped a couple of times, pressing his eyebrows together and intently observing you with a smidge of annoyance, blended with astonishment, at your stubbornness.

You had to consider the possible repercussions. It was within the realm of possibility that he would simply choose to banish you from the Dreaming, without providing a response to what you wanted to know. Still, you didn't retreat, holding on to your consciousness to stay asleep and lucid for as long as necessary.

Finally, he complied. "Very well. If that is what you wish.”

“Yes.”

Morpheus stepped back, distancing himself from your personal space and averting his eyes. “My son came to me, seeked my assistance to plead his case to Hades. To bring back the soul of his deceased wife.”

“And did you?”

“I did not.”

An ominous black fog was gradually forming in the distance, stealthily covering the ocean with a deathly curtain of gloom.

“I told him to bid the dead farewell, to grieve, and to continue with his life.”

You listened to his tale, anticipating more information being appended to it. Once he met your gaze again without further expanding on what he had mentioned, you found yourself shrouded in a cloud of bafflement.

“Wait, that’s it…?”

“You asked.”

Your mouth was agape, but no sound emanated from it. While you could accept a certain level of resentment held towards him for turning Orpheus down, which was followed by his son’s subsequent decision to travel to the Underworld alone, it was difficult for you to believe that this was the only reason leading the young man down a similar path.

"Have you seriously considered yourself at fault, because ot this?" you asked him, unable to accept such an explanation. "We all have the power to make choices, Morpheus. There are always different circumstances that influence our destiny and lead to different outcomes. Orpheus willingly chose to go to the Underworld, you didn't force him.”

"You merely feign understanding, when the matter is far beyond your range of comprehension,” he said firmly.

"I don't need to pretend anything. What else is there to understand apart from what you just told me?" you snapped, clearly frustrated in your voice.

In an instant, you could feel your own body vibrate in accordance with his thunderous words.

"Are you aware of the significance of a father picking the head of his son on the seashore?” He questioned.

“I-”

You were left speechless, frozen in place, as you contemplated the thought of Morpheus facing that very same fate. You were aware of the risks your revelation could have brought to you and him, but you didn't stop reflecting, not even for a second, on the sorrowful memories that would have been unearthed.

It was well within your rights to inquire following the interaction that took place with the Kindly Ones. Nevertheless, it was a story that held no connection to your personal existence. You had faith in Morpheus, therefore you would have never asserted that he was the abomination whom the Fates seemed to desire him to be. Why did you allow your curiosity to completely override his sentiments?

"Hold your tongue when touching upon subjects that do not concern you.”

The way he spoke to you made you feel like you had been reduced to an insignificant speck of dirt in his eyes. He viewed you as a creature that he detested, one with whom he didn't want to have anything in common with, ever again.

“Morpheus-”

“Leave.”

“Please, just let me-”

“This dream is over.”

You sprung awake with a heavy gasp escaping your lips, feeling disoriented as your vision adjusted to the gentle glow of your room, emanating from the window. The sun had not yet appeared on the horizon, but you were convinced that it would be impossible for you to drift back to sleep given your current distress.

You straightened your posture on the mattress, allowing the sheets to slip off your body as you stared at your hands and replayed the sequence of events from your dream in your mind. The seashell resting on your nightstand glistened with a captivating radiance, containing a fragment of the realm from which you had just been banished, probably forever.

You sucked in the air, feeling your innards writhing and your chest being ablaze from a raging fire that could not be tamed or contained.

"What have I done..." you whispered aloud, allowing guilt to course through your entire being for the rest of the night.

You messed up. Big time.

The following day, everyone noticed that the energy had dissipated from you during your work hours. While you didn't allow that to influence the caliber of your services, your usual smile was extinct from your face, and your eyes appeared to be as blank as those of a doll.

Due to your significant inner exasperation, you were unable to care in any way regarding Maya's provocations. She continued issuing them, notwithstanding your annoyance with everything around you.

"Were you bitten by a spider this morning?" she taunted you, sipping her coffee while sitting on the table in the break room with one leg crossed over the other. “You look terrible.”

You inhaled deeply, waiting for your own beverage to be produced by the machine. "Ever the sweet snowflake, are you, Maya?”

The woman let out a forceful giggle as she swished her voluminous, curly ink-black hair off her shoulders. “I’m just stating facts.”

Once your warm drink finished being dispensed, you took it in your hand and put on one of the fakest, most devilish grins your lips had ever formed. Without faltering, you turned to the poisonous woman, delivering such a cold, piercing look that her own smirk was wiped away like never before.

"I see you like playing the part of the Evil Queen like an average middle school girl, yet you should know how those stories typically end," you calmly remarked, your words laced with a cutting edge. "I win, you lose. Try to keep that in mind, will you?”

Seeing her rendered speechless was utterly priceless for you. You had constantly tried to ignore her hostility, pretending like you had no qualms with her constant jealousy. On that particular day, you were so mentally drained that you solely wanted a semblance of peace and seclusion, something that she had always failed to provide.

As you left, you could hear her groaning to herself, relishing in the way she cursed as you continued walking along the corridor with a heavy heart.

You didn't want to fall asleep that night. For all you knew, Morpheus no longer wanted to see your face in his realm again after what you did.

You kept your mind occupied as much as possible, engaging in your typical activities such as work, reading, and watching TV. You were consuming copious amounts of coffee with the intention of staying awake and maintaining your alertness intact.

Deep down, you harbored the hope that Morpheus would reappear, concerned about your absence from the Dreaming and prepared to patch things up with you after calming himself down. Be that as it may, even though the clock read 4 a.m., there was still no trace of him in your apartment.

You waited, praying with great fervor, and made a tremendous effort not to shed tears over the spilt milk. As the sunlight slowly spread across the sky, you felt completely exhausted and profoundly heartbroken.

Back at work, you felt like a walking dead, moving slowly around the office, typing on your computer, and taking charge of the photography session for your debut collection. Despite witnessing your own creations come to fruition, you couldn't find any joy in anything. The struggle to stay focused on your tasks was overwhelming, leaving you devoid of the happiness you should have felt.

Eventually, it became evident to Ella that you were not behaving like yourself anymore. Out of nowhere, she grasped your arm and silently led you to her office, while informing the rest of the team about your break.

She made you sit on her couch and looked straight into your eyes. "All right, sweetie, it's time to spill the beans.”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me. You've been acting strange since yesterday, so tell me what's going on.”

“Are you asking as my boss?”

“I’m asking as your friend."

After a brief pause, you responded, "It's not a big deal, really.”

“Oh no, I won’t accept that.”

You watched as she filled a couple of empty glasses with a drink. She handed one to you across the coffee table and asked, "Y/N, is your father all right?”

You nodded slightly and took a quick sip of your drink. "Don't worry, he's perfectly fine.”

“What’s bothering you, then?”

You let out a long, anguished sigh, carefully setting the glass down and crossing your fingers over one knee. “I think I broke up with my boyfriend,” you confessed.

‘Was he even my boyfriend in the end?’

She froze in her actions, her eyes widening as she sat up straight, intensely staring at you. "Wait, are you serious? I thought you two were doing really well."

"This time, it was actually my fault. Mostly, at least."

Ella turned her glass in her hand, glancing at the swirling liquid. "Did you have an argument?"

"We did. I made him angry.”

“How?”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the couch. Your drink was completely forgotten. "You see, I heard something from someone. It's a secret from his past, something really significant and personal," you explained. “I wanted to ask him about it, but I thought it would be better to just wait and see if he would share it himself. He’s only just started opening up to me and we haven’t known each other for very long.”

Ella smiled warmly at you. "Curiosity always kills the cat. So, did you confront him about it?”

"I did. I just didn't want to keep any secrets from him. Unfortunately, I pushed things a little too far. I touched upon a very sensitive subject, and he didn't appreciate it.”

Ella hummed as she brought her glass to her lips, finishing the last of her drink. "And you haven't spoken since then?”

"No. He doesn't want to see me or hear from me, evidently.”

She licked her lips, savoring the lingering taste of liquor. "Do you love him?”

"I've never loved anyone the way I love him.”

“Does he know that?”

“I…. think he might….?”

Her jaw dropped. "Are you telling me that he doesn't even know about your feelings?”

You shook your head. "It's... complicated. He's different from the other men I've dated.”

“Aren’t they always?”

If only you could explain to her just how different and unique Morpheus was. “I don’t know what to do, Ella. I wish I could apologize to him.”

She pondered for a moment, a wide grin spreading across her face as she realized something. "Why don't you write him a letter?”

“A… letter?”

"I know it may seem old-fashioned, but I did that with Oliver when we broke up a few years ago. It helped me release the emotions I had inside. I opened my heart to him and wrote down everything I felt.”

You blinked in surprise. "You and Oliver broke up…?”

"At least twice. We had our ups and downs, but we managed to work through it.”

You pondered the logistics of sending your personal correspondence to Dream Of the Endless. Was there even a way to communicate with the Dreaming from the Waking World without falling asleep first?

Summoning Matthew, the raven who could travel between the two worlds, seemed like a good way to deliver your message to Dream. However, you were unsure of how to call upon him, as Morpheus was the only one who could track his movements and see through his eyes.

Nevertheless, the concept did not seem like it would be a bad idea to you.

"Thank you, Ella. I will definitely take your suggestion into consideration.”

"Great! Go ahead, reconcile, kiss and make babies!”

“Ella!”

“What?”

Describing Morpheus as restless would be an understatement. Ever since he awakened you from the Dreaming, he had been experiencing excruciating convulsions and constriction in his insides. As a powerful and ancient entity, it was quite atypical for him to experience such physical torment.

Morpheus was enraged, truly. But besides that, he was berating himself for being too quick-witted and allowing his arrogance and pride to take over once again. He was already consumed by self-hatred for his impulsive outburst, and he actually felt more upset with the Kindly Ones than with you.

Despite your efforts to delve deeper into his most agonizing memory, one he had tirelessly tried to bury for eternity, your ultimate objective was for him to confront his guilt and find solace. Unlike everyone else, you didn't accept the Fates' words at face value as they had intended. You managed to keep your encounter with them hidden for over a month, always projecting unwavering confidence and fearlessness in his presence.

In fact, he didn't nourish any hatred towards you. On the contrary, he yearned for your return to the Dreaming, longing to embrace you in his arms. He eagerly awaited your arrival the previous night, but to his dismay, you were nowhere to be found within the depths of his realm.

From a distance, Matthew watched you. And from this, Morpheus understood that you resisted seeking rest and remained anchored to the Waking World until morning. Not only did he make you cry, but he also prevented you from falling asleep.

Would you ever be willing to forgive him for his cruelty? Would you let him take you back, or would you despise him and abandon him like Calliope did before you?

As he became lost in his thoughts, Lucienne cautiously entered the Throne Room. Morpheus sat there like a despondent cat, his long coat draped over the stairs as he perched there.

"My Lord," she said, interrupting his self-loathing. "Something has arrived. I believe this is for you.”

Morpheus glanced up, extending his hand to receive the folded paper that she was holding. “What is it?”

"It seems to be a letter, sir," she said. "I will leave you to it.”

Lucienne spun on her heels and walked away, the sound of her footsteps reverberating off the walls until she disappeared into the library. Morpheus gazed at the paper with curiosity, his name beautifully written on the outside in graceful calligraphy.

In an instant, his heart leaped into his throat, for he knew precisely who had penned it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 11 ->

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#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman fanfic #story: let your dreams be your wings

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