#Series: Fragments

[ohraicodoll]

Interwoven | Chapter 5

Chapters:  5/6 Fandom:  The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating:  Mature/Explicit Relationships:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Hob Gadling, Original Characters, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Calliope, The Endless, Eve, Delirium, Death, Desire Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Character Development, Established Relationships, General complicated feelings, meeting the family, meeting the friends, talk about fantasies, domestic life, fluff, past Relationships, ANGST, OFC: Dahlia, Named Reader, 1st POV

Summary: She had very few people in her life and while he denied it, Dream had so many. People that cared for him, people that warned her. Or in other terms, Dream and Dahlia’s casual relationship is turning not so casual. Chapter Summary: The past and present collide. CHAPTER WARNING: References to Domestic Abuse, Violence, Assault, Graphic Descriptions, Trauma Depictions

4th in the Fragments Series | Read on AO3 Writing Masterlist Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Previous in Series: Possession Next in Series: The Complications of Family Chapter 5: Calliope and-

As I often did when faced with having to have a hard conversation, I pushed it under the rug and moved on, content to let the unease stay under the surface. Fear and uncertainty won out and it wouldn’t change anything, bringing it all up. Going back to the Waking World was surprisingly difficult but life called. I had work and bills and it’s not like there was cellphone service in the Dreaming so I had to make sure Anissa or Hob weren’t blowing up my phone or freaking out that I’d disappeared. Morpheus eventually fixed that issue through…magic? I wasn’t sure, but he was able to contact people with glowing orbs so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. The orb system wouldn’t quite work for Anissa unless I wanted to spill the news of who he was or give her a heart attack so we went with making my phone reachable in the Dreaming. But life went on. Morpheus didn’t open up about his sisters though I knew something was bothering him and I didn’t bring up Alianora. It was easier to face the insecurity eating me away than the potential argument that would ensue. He was on edge, simultaneously aloof and more protective and I wasn’t sure how to approach him. The holiday months came and passed, one after the other, and time marched ever on. When most people gathered with their families, I stayed in the Dreaming with Morpheus or we’d go to Hob’s flat above the New Inn. Two family-less mortals and an Endless who didn’t seem to care for his. Dream didn’t particularly care if it was a certain holiday, I think using it as an excuse to get away and be with us. Celebrating mostly involved listening to the immortal talk, us bickering, and too much drinking, but for once the holidays didn’t feel as lonely as previous years. Anissa tried to drag me to her family gathering but I declined, not quite feeling like being an outsider and watching what I had lost. It turns out the Dreaming did seem to celebrate certain holidays, or at least some areas of it did. Abel was the main facilitator, going around and decorating furiously and getting the staff involved. Lucienne even wrote out holiday cards for the Dreaming residents. Most of them visited the Houses of Mystery and Secrets for Christmas and ice skating, the large lake nearby frozen over and the area covered in snow. Watching Merv and his Guano Gang of bats try to help hang up lights and decorate trees was particularly entertaining and even if Morpheus didn’t fully participate in all the activity, choosing to work instead, he’d joined for parts of it and stood at my side or watched Lucienne attempt to teach me to ice skate. I knew that even if he seemed disinterested, there was no way the weather in the realm magically became a winter wonderland without his help. It was a small thing, but I noticed it. And as the new year came and went, as I spent time where I could in the Dreaming and Morpheus became a more solid presence in my life, this thing between us felt like an expanding bubble. It was getting harder to ignore, harder to swallow and say we were nothing because we didn’t feel like nothing. We felt like too much. The Dreaming was feeling like home. He was feeling like home. I’d gone from being hollow and going from one empty relationship to another, desperately seeking some sort of affection after Aiden, empty and craving something to make the world less gray. Now life was magic and stories and immortals and people who genuinely cared for me. Anissa, though not his biggest fan, stopped ribbing me about Morpheus and seemed to accept him in a passive aggressive way. Though she didn’t stop giving him shit when the few times she was around him. Hob was quickly becoming a close friend and confidant, someone that understood having a secret and being tied to magic. He’d seen and experienced so much but was still full of light and kindness. Lucienne and Matthew and all of the Dreaming accepted me and seemed happy enough for me to be around. And Dream, he cared. Cared so much that it felt like I would be swallowed whole by the endless stars and sky that burned in his eyes. He hated me being away, I could tell. Each time I left the Dreaming, he seemed to cling tighter and when he would leave, he’d linger longer. I knew he was aware of the bubble growing as well, this building thing between us and I wasn’t sure how he felt. Morpheus was simultaneously desperate to have me at his side and mysteriously distant at times, doing work that he wouldn’t share or expand upon when asked. It felt like he was hiding something and I wasn’t sure how to feel. Complicated. Attached. Mine and his. Words I’d used to describe us seemed too simple now. They didn’t fit. But different words, words that lingered on my tongue when I smiled at him wide with utter abandon or felt his lips on my skin in worship, felt too big. Like I would choke on them if they left my lips. Like he’d vanish if he attempted to utter them. Thus, we stayed in limbo, too big and too small, but knowing something would change soon for better or for worse. A car crash waiting to happen. I chewed my lip as I left my office building, the air outside warmer in the evening now. Spring had come slowly but a few tendrils of Winter still clung, the slight bite in the morning hanging in the air by lunch and now gone entirely by evening. The day had been slow, boring, and I’d spent a dumb amount of time at work arguing about an old collection of fairy tales over text with Hob in between his lectures. I had no doubt it would continue when he came over for dinner with Dream, who would no doubt settle it between us, but I was determined to be right. I had even called the local bookshop I frequented close to my apartment to see if they carried the book I was thinking of. He was stubborn but so was I. Anissa was out on vacation for a week, leaving the office stuffy and boring so I was eager to leave as soon as the clock turned. I sighed and checked my phone before entering into the small bookshop down the street, the bell ringing overhead. I had a bit of time before both immortals came over. Hob was going to be doing the cooking so he had plans to come over earlier to start, Morpheus showing up whenever he deemed he could get away. He didn’t eat with us but usually drank wine while we did, choosing to enjoy the company instead. We’d learned better after making him try the food once, overly excited to see him change his mind and only getting a bland reaction in return. Unless it was on my skin, he wasn’t a fan of human foods. There weren't a lot of people inside, most customers already headed home for the night rather than stopping in to shop. I twiddled with the black stone on my necklace and went to the isle where the book would likely be, skimming over the titles and slightly smiling at myself while thinking of the two men that simultaneously annoyed me and kept me on my toes in different ways. But I was determined to be able to throw this book in Hob’s face if only to see his reaction. I chewed my lip and then made a small noise of satisfaction as the title fell under my fingertips, the book obviously second hand and well loved but the golden foil of the words holding up. I flipped through the pages anxiously, grinning when it found the one I knew had been in this collection. He had been so determined to say it wasn’t included, it was going to be so satisfying to prove him wrong. “I take it you found what you were looking for?” a soft feminine voice spoke behind me and I jumped, hugging the book to my chest and knocking into the shelf. I winced as my elbow connected to the wood and some of the books jostled together. The woman standing behind me was beautiful, dark hair falling around her shoulders and some pinned back in intricate braids. Her brown eyes were warm as she looked on with a slight smile, a white sundress falling to her feet. There was a grace and light that emanated from her, ease and comfort surrounding her like a well loved blanket. I smiled, laughing nervously, and clung to the book in my hands. “Uh, yeah, I was hoping they had this copy. I was needing it for a friend,” I replied, tongue explaining without even thinking. She smiled and nodded, hands clasped in front of her and looking at the title I held, “That is an old one, but a beautiful collection.” I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. Words tumbled from my lips unbidden and I couldn’t help smiling, a little bashful, “I read it a long time ago when I was trying to get a story sorted out, but I think I just ended up devouring the stories instead. I love old folk tales.” In truth, I’d read it all over and over again until Aiden had tossed it in the trash. I had become distracted from him and like most things I loved, he got rid of it. Her brown eyes lit up and a tinge of amusement danced along her lips, “Oh you’re a writer?” I chewed on my lip, shrugging, “Sort of. Nothing published or really finished, more like I write in my past time.” My past time which had been dwindling over the past year, now relegated to when I would spend time in the library with Lucienne or the few times I was alone at home, “I work at the book publisher a few blocks away! It was the closest I could get to working with stories outside of writing and reading them.” That amusement on her face grew but there was a hint of bitterness at its edge. I wasn’t sure why I was telling her this, almost as if it were unbidden. One of my hands went to fiddle with the black stone necklace, the obsidian cool under my fingers. I watched her eyes follow the movement and fixate, her brow furrowing. “A writer and a lover of stories,” she sighed almost sadly even while slightly smiling, warm brown eyes flickering up to meet mine once more, “I could see why Oneiros would take an interest in you.” The name clanged through me, harsh and sharp, severing the connection between us. Almost as if the temperature had dropped, it was instantly colder and I could feel the slight tingling of Dream’s power emanating from the stone necklace. Oneiros, another of Morpheus’ names. My fingers tightened around the book. I was on guard immediately and shut myself off, face becoming stony, “It was nice talking to you but I have somewhere I need to be.” Before she could reply, I took the book and almost walked out of the store, stopping briefly to remember where I was. The cashier didn’t comment on the fact I was shaking, quickly ringing me up and completing my purchase, and then I was pushing the door open to leave the small bookshop with the book shoved into my bag. I was alert, flight or fight running through me. Normal people didn’t know about Morpheus. She couldn’t be human, could be any manner of thing. And I wasn’t about to stick around to find out if she meant to hurt me, maybe even use me against him. Morpheus’ paranoia was rubbing off on me. Dream’s necklace was clutched in my fingers and I wondered if he could feel the sharp tick in my anxiety, glancing up to see if I could spot Matthew anywhere. I wasn’t sure exactly how his connection to the jewel worked, only that it would lead him to me in case of emergencies. Another of his precautions. The door chimed behind me and footsteps raced before a gentle hand grabbed my arm. I whirled and backed up, breaking contact and instantly defensive. The woman held her hands up, face apologetic and beseeching, “I mean you no harm! I did not wish to frighten you at all, I had simply wished to speak with you.” Her voice was gentle, pleading, and there was a calming effect to it that I tried to shake off. It could be natural but could also be magic. I didn’t relax, eyes wide. Even in the brightness of the dying sun with other people around, I was fully on my guard, “You mentioned Dream, you know him.” She let out a huff, half a laugh and half a sigh, while slightly lowering her hands, “Yes, I do know him. I would have said rather well, but I’m afraid not quite so much anymore. My name is Calliope. Do you know who I am?” The world tilted. My breath caught and eyes widened, heart thumping rapidly in my chest. Did I know who she was? Yes, I did. Her name had rattled in my brain for an entire night while I sat in Morpheus’ empty chambers, waiting for him. Wondering what he was doing, running off to his ex-wife, leaving me without even a word. His former lover and wife. The mother of his child. A muse, a goddess. It all fit now that I was looking at her with fresh eyes. She was beautiful, a hint of etherealness underneath her rich tanned skin, with an elegant face and regal-ness. Even in more modern clothing, it fit her and didn’t hide the classic look of her. The calming nature of her made sense. I could only whisper out a reply, eyes quickly cataloging everything about her all the while finding myself lacking, “Yes, I know of you.” Morpheus had loved her once, loved her long enough to marry her and then father a child with her. We had never broached the topic again after our last blow out concerning her, when he’d disappeared to help her, so I wasn’t sure how they had fallen apart, how their marriage had crumbled. I knew it had to deal with their son but that was a dangerous topic and I never brought it up again. But looking at her, I could see why he had been with her. There was tenderness, compassion alongside her beauty, but confidence and a hint of defiance in her eyes. A muse and the Prince of Stories. It was fitting. More fitting than a human and King of Dreams. Her lips pressed together and she tried to smile at me but it was a bit sad and sympathetic, “This is a bit of a mess, is it not? I am sorry. I had heard of you- of both of you and…was curious as to who had attracted his attention. I truly only wished to talk.” She was pleading, hands open as if to show she truly meant no harm. I chewed on my lip, feeling small and awkward in front of her, as I processed her words. She had heard of us which meant word had spread beyond the Dreaming and the Endless. Otherworldly beings turned out to be huge gossips and I was finding myself at the center of that. I knew that would upset Morpheus, either because people were intruding on his personal business or because it meant people knew he was with a human. I wasn’t sure and didn’t know if I wanted to find out which. In all honesty, I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. This woman did nothing to me beyond spark jealousy and insecurity but that wasn’t her fault. I knew she had been in trouble, imprisoned against her will for years until Morpheus had at last saved her. Sympathy and jealousy warred until all that was less was awkwardness. “I’m Dahlia. I…don’t really know what to say to you. This isn’t exactly a normal occurrence for me,” I mumbled and almost hugged myself if only to feel some semblance of grounding. “Meeting a former lover of Dream’s?” Calliope offered with a slight smile. I shrugged, “More like meeting a goddess but that too.” We both sort of laughed under our breaths, the tension easing a bit. Sighing, I looked up at her from under my lashes and chewed on my already raw lip, “He didn’t tell me exactly what you went through but…I’m sorry, either way. I’m glad he helped free you.” A shadow passed behind her eyes and she briefly looked down, swallowing visibly, before offering a solemn smile, “It is unnecessary but thank you. I did not believe he would come, that he would help. But he has changed. I can see that now.” “How so?” I asked. I kept hearing over and over that he had changed, but this was the only version of him I ever knew. Everything I’d been told so far had been so different from the man I’d come to be with. She looked me over then looked around us, people walking past on their way home along the sidewalks, “May I walk with you?” In the back of my mind, I reminded myself Hob and Dream would both be at my apartment soon so maybe heading that way wasn’t a bad idea. I could only hope he wasn’t near and didn’t see Calliope. If he was mad at Delirium and Death for being around me, I wasn’t sure how he’d react to his ex wife talking to me. I nodded and she stepped forward, falling into step at my side as we started to walk down the street. “He is no longer the man I once married,” the goddess began, eyes distant, “When he pursues you, he is fire and overwhelming. Almost suffocating with how much he loves, but once that fades, once it all settles, he could be so cold, so strict. It’s a miracle we stayed together as long as we did. Now there is almost a…gentleness to him. Oneiros is not as hard as he used to be. Maybe not as cruel.” Cruel. This wasn’t the first time I had heard that description of him. It’d been said about Alianora. He was fire, bright and burning and all consuming. While I’d been told in the past he would hardly touch anyone, didn’t seem to like it himself and wouldn’t permit it, he almost seemed desperate for contact now. He was always touching me in some form or fashion, even if it was only a simple brush against my side. I couldn’t see this Morpheus she was describing, but then again she was speaking of love. We weren’t like that. Either way, this was probably my only chance to learn more about their relationship. I was learning a lot about Dream’s previous lovers, most likely learning more than I should, and a part of me said that sometimes knowing too much would only hurt. Another part though couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the comparisons or learning how he may one day leave or hurt me, learning the differences. Maybe it was the broken, leftover parts of my previous relationship that made me want to prepare for the worst instead of enjoying what I had. Like I was bracing for impact. But I couldn’t stop it. Fear had a hold of me and said to prepare because he would leave one day like he did with all the rest. Each step felt like it weighed a ton, but I kept walking, glancing at her from the side of my eyes, “But you did stay together for quite a while. I’m sorry if this is intrusive. He just never talks about…anything.” Calliope smiled, almost knowing, letting me guide the direction we walked, “No, he doesn’t. Sharing parts of himself was never something he did. But it’s fine, I understand wanting to know and I don’t mind.” She took a deep breath, breathing in the cooling air of dusk, “We did once love each other, but I wished to keep my life even while we were together. It made each meeting more special in my mind and I did not wish to live in the Dreaming. I lived in the Waking world with my sisters and he stayed in his realm. But once the passion faded, I think the distance became a wedge.” “Oneiros traps himself in his rules and routines and work, desperately clinging to them while also desperate to break from them. I think in the beginning I was a distraction from that work, a distraction from the Dreaming. I tried to be considerate of his responsibilities, was obedient and caring as a good wife is, but it was not enough. I think he became bored of it all, of our domestic life. He slowly stopped visiting and I had to go to him if I wished to see him.” “Wait, weren’t you Queen? Of the Dreaming?” I asked tentatively. I wasn’t sure if that was even a thing, but the fact she stayed outside of the Dream even while married was odd to me. I couldn’t imagine not being a part of the realm while with him. The place was magic and I knew Morpheus loved sharing it. But I wasn’t a goddess and I was sure she had things to do besides being his wife. Calliope shook her head and lifted her head, taking in the dying sun, “No, I was merely his consort. I had my own responsibilities as a muse and let him handle the Dreaming but back then he was less willing to share. Whether it was the realm or himself. It was his burden to bear and only his. Maybe it was partially my fault for not becoming more a part of his life, the distance, not pushing. It wasn’t our way back then to push, even as his wife. I was there to help and serve him.” The thought rankled me, bitter in my mouth. I knew how that was. More a maid and less a partner, there to help and be a decoration. I didn’t see her as being obedient but times change. Even the person I was a few years ago was so different from who I was now. She looked at me as if she knew the comment had annoyed me and smiled. The streets were clearing out as dusk fully settled in. We were walking slowly, taking our time while still headed for my home. One by one, street lamps turned on and we savored the low lights and warmth of the breeze. Sighing, the muse fiddled with her fingers, brown hair cascading over her shoulders, “I had thought perhaps a baby could repair the strain. It was my wifely duty but I wanted something that was both of ours. And for a time, it did. He was a wonderful father, but the distance only grew until it became a chasm.” “I-” the words stuck in my throat, choking, but I pushed on, “He doesn’t talk about your child and I’d prefer if when he does tell me about him, it’s on his terms. If that’s okay?” Calliope paused and the sadness was apparent even in the dim lighting. There was pain there, bright and sparkling as if whatever had happened was fresh. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. If their son had died or something worse had happened. Morpheus didn’t speak of him at all and I could see in her face that whatever had befallen the boy, it hadn’t been good. I didn’t want to learn second-hand. It was too big, too important. I’d wait for him to tell it when he was ready, if he’d ever be ready. And so she nodded, “Of course. It is…difficult for both of us. But it should be something he tells you himself.” We were getting closer to the area of my apartment, but I wasn’t feeling as anxious anymore. Her presence was nice, reassuring even if an air of sadness hung around her, “I must not quite be what you expected. I’m so very human.” She smiled, eyes brightening, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. Being human is wonderful, but yes I am a bit surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to be with a mortal given-” The muse seemed to cut herself off, looking unsure and hesitant. I raised a brow, confusion coloring my eyes, and she ducked her face away before shaking off the look, “Given who he is. But he has changed so much, even if he doesn’t believe so. Even if I didn’t believe he could. Have you met his family yet?” The change in topic was obvious. There was something there she had wanted to say but stopped herself. It kicked up my anxiety but I didn’t know her well enough to push and let it slide, going along with it, “I met Delirium and Death very briefly, but that’s been it. It was more accidental so nothing formal, but they were nice.” She smiled tightly at the older Endless’ name, nodding, “I was never very close to them. They kept their distance for the most part but were a part of my son’s life. They are…strange. For a long time I blamed them, and maybe Oneiros as well, for the things that went wrong. Their involvement in our lives and the way they acted. Even their help can hurt. But it is their nature to be as they are and they can never truly change from their function. I would keep that in mind for the future.” The warning was clear and my brow furrowed, not sure exactly what had happened with her and the family. I knew some things about how they were. Desire and Dream seemed to butt heads the most, bad blood flowing between them, Despair usually getting dragged into it being Desire’s twin. Death was his favorite and who he was closest to. Delirium was spoken less of as well as Destiny and then Destruction…he had only been mentioned once and bitterness had coated his name. I wasn’t sure what had been done, but they were a dysfunctional bunch. But weren’t all families?

I wasn’t sure. It’d been so long since I had one. The sky was dark as we came closer to the apartment, the air cool on my skin. I was probably late and even if Hob knew where the spare key was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was blowing up my phone. But it was in my bag, tucked away while we walked. Sighing, I looked at Calliope at my side and the way the light illuminated her features. The insecurity was at an all time high, and had increased since learning of her because standing next to the goddess I couldn’t help but feel lesser. I opened my mouth and asked softly, “Do you still-” “Lia?” The name is a stab, sharp and quick, and my body almost jerked as the sound reached me. I whirled around quickly, looking at the dark street behind me and seeing nothing. Lia, no one called me that. No one was allowed to call me that, not in the years since I’d gotten free. My breathing was quick and shallow as I combed through the area with my eyes, Calliope’s  questioning voice muffled under the high pitched whirring in my head. I couldn’t see anything but knew I had heard it. Maybe it was a stranger talking to another, the name bouncing to hit me unintentionally. A hallucination. My therapist had once said that could happen. Swallowing hard, I turned back to Calliope and could see the concern bright on her face, “Are you okay-” The question had just finished when a hand gripped my arm and I was jerked back roughly, another going around my waist and pulling. My brain went into a scrambled panic, her fearful eyes burned into it as I was dragged back and back into the darkness. I could only register her yelling my name, the painful grip of my arm and the sound of my shoes scraping against concrete as I was pulled roughly into a side alley not far from where we stood. The hands shifted and then I was pushed backward, my back hitting brick and head roughly bouncing off the wall with a sharp crack. Pain flared, hot and bright, and white flashed over my vision for a second. It all was happening so fast and I couldn’t get my bearings, couldn’t breathe or process. But then he was there, standing before me like a nightmare made real. Aiden. He was pressed up close, arms barricading me to the wall, but I could still see him clearly. This wasn’t a dream or nightmare or memory. No, those were images frozen in time from years past. He’d changed. His hair was longer, a mess of stringy dark hair falling around his ears and he had a thick coating of hair along his jaw. Dark circles lined his green eyes, puffy and worn, the skin of his face chapped and like leather. While he had been thin with a bit of muscle, now he was bigger, more filled out but strong. His shirt was ragged and torn along the collar, stains along the fabric. No, this was him in flesh. Older and rougher and so angry as he pressed down against me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see clearly, eyes locked onto his and the darkness there, “Aiden?” Calliope was calling my name from a distance but I couldn’t process it, could only see the hatred and malice in my ex’s face, “Do you know how long it took me to find you, Lia? Did you really think you could ruin my life and leave like you did?” His voice cut through me like an echo through time. So familiar, stripping the years of my freedom down and away from me. Tangible, he was tangible and in front of me and his presence hurt so much more than the nightmare of him had. Fear pulsed through my body like ice sliding along my bones. “I didn’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered, pain still radiating from the back of my skull, “Let me go.” I was twenty four again, standing in that dirty apartment and begging him not to hurt me. I was twenty, clinging to him and pleading to stop being angry. I was seventeen and alone, thinking he was the only person I had left even as he screamed in my face. This wasn’t a nightmare I could pull myself out of or Morpheus could save me from. He was here, standing before me, and I was stupid to think I’d ever be free. “You didn’t tell anyone about what happened, right?,” Aiden mocked and hissed in my face, spit raining onto me, “You fucking liar. Someone sure as hell reported it. I got arrested for attempted murder because they said I stabbed you and even if you didn’t show up, they had evidence connecting me to some other bullshit. Five years, Lia. They locked me up for five years because of you.” A small part of my brain said five years wasn’t enough. Morpheus had been locked away for over a century for doing nothing wrong. Aiden got off easy. But I was shaking, trying to make myself small and sink into the bricks at my back and he was so close and his breath stank of alcohol and rancid meat and I wanted to disappear, “I didn’t, I swear -” “Shut the fuck up,” he yelled into my face and tears unwittingly slid down my cheeks, my body seizing in fear. The urge to beg, to apologize, to try and coax him down was there inside like an old cat crawling from the darkness and I pushed it away. That wasn’t me but I wasn’t even sure who I was. “You left and suddenly I got put away and you think that’s what? A coincidence? And you think you can simply move on and have a happy little life?” The words were mocking and my nails scraped against the brick as I tried to keep myself from sinking into a ball. There was some strength left in me, some part of who I was now after leaving that reared its head forward and forced myself to plant my feet in the ground. I tried to get me to breathe, to swallow the fear and set it aside, to remember all I had accomplished while pushing out the words, “I left because you were hurting me. I didn’t report anything.” His face twisted in anger but he didn’t have the chance to do anything. With a sharp cry Calliope shoved into him, trying to force him off me. Her shoulder rammed into his and he stumbled back a few steps from the effort. But he was so much bigger than us, stronger now. She managed to put distance between us, pushing and clawing while screaming for me to run. There was no time though and he grabbed her shoulder and easily tossed her across the alley, body skittering over the disgusting floor. I watched her roll across the ground, that beautiful white dress now covered in dirt and felt bile in my throat. He had most likely forgotten about her or hadn’t cared if she was there, but she wasn’t nearly as scared as I was. Her face twisted in fury even from the floor, brown eyes dark with anger, as she shouted at him, “Leave her be!” Aiden smirked and advanced on her, all menace and cruelty in his eyes, “She’s mine, I can do what I want.” I could see it then, in his steps as he walked closer to the goddess, that he’d hurt her. There was no hitting him and getting away with it. There was always punishment but Calliope had already been through so much. She’d been caged and tormented and then thought to seek me out, not out of jealousy but some sort of common thread. I couldn’t let more happen to her, couldn’t let her be dragged into my mess. My head screamed at me but I launched myself forward at Aiden. There was no plan, no reason, only one thought pulsed through my head and that was to get his attention off Calliope. He could direct his anger at me, I could take it. I’d taken it before for years and years, knew the brutality of it. But she didn’t deserve to be hurt, especially not because of me. I tried to leap onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and nails sinking in. It was a clumsy attempt but I managed, putting all my strength into pulling him backwards. Back and back and away from her, scratching and clawing and trying to bring him down. I think I screamed at Calliope to run, to leave, but couldn’t remember doing so. Skin tore under my nails and Aiden hissed. He growled and tried to grip my wrists, stumbling and turning as I dangled from his back. In one quick move he rammed us both against the wall, my breath leaving me in a single exhale as my back impacted with all his weight against me. My lungs were on fire, desperately trying to refill as all the air left me and I dropped to the ground hard and wheezed. I wasn’t a fighter, had never been strong, but I had tried. He kneeled and then his hands were on my neck, squeezing and squeezing while I kicked and flailed. The darkness encased us, the lamps not reaching where we were in the alley and hiding him thoroughly. I would die by his hand in the end, like I had always believed. For so long I thought he couldn’t do worse but he’d always proved me wrong. This was always going to be end game. Maybe there really was no escape. My hands clawed at his wrists while pain blossomed from my throat, air unable to choke through his grip. I kicked and bucked but he was so heavy on me, unmovable. One of my fingers had hooked into my necklace and it tangled in my fingers while I scratched at Aiden’s arms. I couldn’t leave like this, on a dirty alley floor so close to home while Dream and Hob waited for me. Would Dream know when I died? Would Death come to me first or would she tell her brother? Would I even get to say goodbye? Tears leaked down my cheeks while my lungs burned. Stars and colors danced in my vision and in the haze…I thought I could see a door. Almost like in the Dreaming, it stood in the middle of the alley, plain but luring. Waiting. It was fuzzy along the edges, flickering slightly with the pain and colors, but it was there. I gasped whatever little air I had, whispering out a single word like a plea. “Morpheus.” The word was strained, broken, lost in Calliope’s cries as she tried to get up and to me. But it left my lips, painted my tongue. My dreamlord. The door vanished as darkness began to creep in. Then there was lightning along my skin. It crackled and split the air even while the darkness pulsed and writhed like a living thing. The hands were gone from my throat, air rushing back in as the body above me was jerked away. Aiden was thrown brutally to the ground a few feet away and his body audibly bounced off the floor from the force of the impact. I gasped in the air desperately and touched the tender skin of my throat, coughing through the burn.

Hands -different hands, fingers long and thin, touched the skin of my neck and I blinked up into Dream’s starlit eyes as he softly urged me to breathe. His power coasted along my skin, gentle and soothing, and I knew he was holding it back from me. He was angry, furious, but kept that away from me. He cupped a hand against my check, forehead pressed to mine, and slowly helped me sit up, his skin cool against my heated skin. It was like trying to swallow nails, my throat painful and raw. I was crying, clinging to him, as he righted me against the wall. “You- you’re….here,” I stuttered out with a wince, the words dragging from my lips like sharp edged glass. “I am,” Dream whispered, sorrow and pain and rage lining his voice. He brushed the hair back from my face, from my neck, and seemed to be inspecting the damage. His rage grew. Aiden shifted not far from us, orienting himself on the ground, clumsily trying to sit up. Like an angry storm cloud made of nightmares and power, Morpheus stood and moved before him with a look so furious I couldn’t believe the man was alive. There was no solid edge to him, his cloak merging and shifting with the shadows around his, eyes pure black and stars red. His skin glowed in the darkness and he was purely Dream of the Endless, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms in that moment. Aiden groaned and blinked, trying to scramble to his feet in front of the dreamlord. The impact had hurt but he wasn’t fragile, could no doubt take the blow. But I could see the fear in his eyes, creasing in his brow as he took in the being before him. The Nightmare King slowly advanced and the air was thick with his power building, each step a warning bell. He was fear made flesh, darkness and the things hiding under your bed made real. And his eyes were solely on Aiden now, fingers clenching at his side. Calliope’s voice rang out, closer now, slightly pained, “Oneiros, stop! You cannot kill him!” His head quirked ever so slightly as he registered her voice, making him pause. The shadows slid along the ground and twisted in the air like a cat’s tail angrily flicking in distaste. Aiden took the opportunity to get to his feet, eyes glued to the Endless being in front, but some semblance of self coming back. He was evaluating the situation, taking in the distance to the end of the alley, to me, to Morpheus. I wheezed and attempted to climb to my feet, stumbling forward, knees pressed into the dirty concrete. I was so weak. I couldn’t do anything. Dream started to advance again and stopped almost like he was fighting with himself. Calliope was close now and the dim light reflected off her white gown enough that I could make out her form. She was taking him in, taking in the rage and Aiden before him, and yelled out, “He is not a threat to your realm, you cannot take his life! You cannot break the rule!” Aiden’s confidence was building at the words, his eyes swiveling to find mine briefly. Even when faced with something like the Dream King he still thought he had a chance and could win out in the end. I could see it, the confidence growing in his stance. “There are worse things than Death,” Morpheus growled and looked back at the goddess. The move was a mistake maybe. I could see it in Aiden’s stance like a memory. I could always read his body language, had committed it to memory to know when he’d strike, when he was buying time, when he was lingering in the hopes to draw out the anticipation. Maybe he’d run. Morpheus wouldn’t abandon me to chase after him, wouldn’t leave me. In the few seconds I had my eyes flicked to the ground and I could almost feel time pause. Not far from my scraped knees within grabbing distance were a stray plank of wood and a chipped, broken brick. Even in the scramble of the moment Delirium’s words echoed back clearly. “Oh we can ask if bricks or planks would be better!” It couldn’t be a coincidence. It had been a small offhand comment in her ramblings, but what were the odds? Yet everything clicked into place as I watched the turn of Morpheus’ head, the shifting in Aiden’s feet, the slight lifting of his lips into a smirk. He’d get away and would forever haunt me, would continue to lurk in the darkness. Escaping hadn’t been enough to be free of him. The world was an echo chamber. Silent. We were frozen in place as if time had fallen still and then in a blink everything was moving so fast. And like watching a movie, disassociated from the action, I watched as I picked up the brick and threw myself forward. I swung, it connected. Aiden’s head jerked and I could hear a crunch. I watched separately from my body almost as momentum carried me forward and I was stumbling, but not fully down. The man was bleeding, disoriented, and I swung again though the blow had less power. I swung again and again and a body hit the ground. I wasn’t sure if it was his or mine but then the brick was wrenched away and arms wrapped around me even as I kicked and screamed and cried. I was a wild animal, howling and snarling and pleading to let me finish it. It wasn’t happening to me, it was happening to her. The broken girl who thought she had survived her abuser. I watched as the dreamlord solidified and wrapped the shadows around her, muffling her sobs as he set her down on the floor against the wall. Tears and blood poured down her face and her neck was ringed in purple and red, breath coming out in gasping pants. Hyperventilating. Calliope was rushing over, crawling along the ground under she was at the broken girl’s side calmly urging the girl to breathe. She was having a panic attack and couldn’t be soothed. I was having a panic attack? I thought I could feel my lungs constrict and air try to push in and out but it was all muffled and numb. I was in my body and not, feeling everything and feeling nothing. Existing but watching from the outside. It couldn’t be me, couldn’t be me crumpled on the ground like a broken doll. But even so, she looked like me, had Morpheus’ attention as he combed back her hair and whispered that he was there and it was okay and I needed to breathe. In the distance, I thought I heard a raven’s cry. I could hear their words like they were in my ear. Dream hissed angrily at the goddess, “What are you doing here with her?” and I tried to force my hands to move, to grasp onto him and get his attention. I didn’t want him to be angry at her, I couldn't allow it.

Sobs poured from my lips, hindering the air trying to get in, and with a scratchy voice I attempted to beg him not to be angry. I watched myself do it and felt it too. She had tried to save me. Perhaps had saved me if I had been alone. None of it was her fault. “I promise, we were only speaking. I did not know this would happen,” Calliope tried to explain, her hand clenching mine tightly to ground me, “Is your sister coming?” He turned from her and focused solely on me, black pits having slid back to human icy blue. He didn’t answer. The tight fist in my chest was starting to ease, whether it be time or the soothing touch of Morpheus’ fingers in my hair or Calliope gripping my hand. Breathing became easier if not still painful and I slid back into my own skin. Everything hurt and my brain felt like jello, sloshing around my skull. I think there was blood soaking the back of my head. I tightened my fingers around Calliope and she forced a soft smile at me, “You are okay. He won’t hurt you any longer. You are safe.” She turned to the Endless at her side, both of them hovering over me and smiled sadly, “Take care of her, Oneiros. She needs you now.” His lips turned down and he nodded, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The anger aimed at her lessened, disappearing from the furrow of his brow. The muse moved to stand up but I gripped her hand, swallowing through my pain and tears, “Calliope.” She froze, eyes soft, and I continued, “Thank you.” I don’t remember her reply. The world shifted and turned, darkness blanketing me. I felt like a gravity sinkhole, weightless while also being too heavy. I think I passed out but at the same time, I remembered bits and pieces of what was happening around me. Arms lifting me up, tucking me close, as we climbed a set of stairs. The chest against my cheek emanated warm power, my necklace echoing it back. Hob’s panicked voice as fingers poked at a painful spot on my head. Him shushing and consoling, “darling” and “sweetheart” whispered into my ear and coated in pain and heartbreak. Water, cool and shocking, running through my hair as calloused fingers tried to untangle the matted blood. Morpheus’ own hands brushing the water or tears from my cheeks as he did so. I was held between them, cradled almost. Dream and Hob’s voices going back and forth, tense but resolute. Words like “done it before” and “take care of it” and “for her” stuck in my head before the door shut with a loud bang. Lips pressed against my forehead. The immortal man urging me to focus on him and stay awake, arms wrapped around my small frame and holding me to his chest as he sprawled us out on the couch. Morpheus wasn’t there, his absence noticeable. He talked and talked, voice wavering underneath the false cheer. Hob was gone and I was wrapped in shadows, warm and protective while long fingers skimmed over the bruises on my neck. I think we were on the bed, my cheek pressed against Dream’s chest and his cloak spilling around us like ink. Or blood. Any attempts at holding a normal form in the Waking were gone and I was wrapped in the King of Dream’s arms. His lips were against my temple and I could feel how he wished to hold me tight but was afraid it would hurt me. Could feel him holding back but was unable to stop touching, assuring both of us that we were safe and whole. In the twilight, he whispered that I was okay. That he was sorry for not being there sooner. His words were soft promises in the shadows of the room, pledges, and he told me how important I was, how he would never leave me, and that no one would ever touch me again. I’m not sure if he knew I was conscious, if the words were for my ears or for himself. But they lingered in the air nonetheless. Then I fell into darkness.

[anodesu]

Some Warframe Stuff!

Tennocon is over, and we have so much to share! And by that, I mean, have some stuff from WITW and before. A handful of us animators did a little workshop at Tennocon, which wasn't part of the main stage stream. I thought, at least, I'd love to share some of my own work from the past few years. If you have ideas of whether i should share as a big blog post or if individual posts are your jam, I dunno, I'll try to see what works?

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride Screenshots Chapters 1 to 6

“Mmm.” He hummed, looking at her red eyes and full lips, feeling a strange kind of intimacy now that he could feel her veins, her blood, dragon’s blood, pulsing under her bare skin.

Their shared heritage.

His seed was stronger than Daemon’s, he thought with a confidence bordering on vanity.

Their children would have his white hair.

She shuddered as he leaned over her suddenly, his hands on both sides of her head resting on the pillow, strands of his long hair brushing her face.

“Is there really no desire for revenge in you? To prove him wrong by rejecting you? Don’t you want him to curse the day he left you?” He asked, looking her straight in the eye.

Prince Aemond gave her one sharp glance before mounting his beautiful brown steed, nodding his head for her to do the same. She therefore climbed with lightness and ease onto the black mare standing just beside him and set off at a gallop after him.

She thought with amusement, feeling the wind in her hair, the front strands of which she had braided back, as he did, that she could easily try to escape with such a well-rested horse at her side, knowing her riding skills.

For the first time, however, she wondered why she should return there?

What kind of life awaited her in Runestone?

He didn’t understand what he was doing there – didn’t understand why he was looking at them from afar like a shadow, why he was watching as his hands wandered over her cheeks and neck, as his lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on her lips.

“Do it slowly,” she said, and he obeyed, not caring too much about his presence, eager to please her and to experience fulfilment himself.

He saw her flinch as his hand travelled to her breasts under the thin material of her gown, her fingers tightening on his wrist.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

“We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction.” He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn’t she feel the need to run away?

They both fell to the ground as a large, dark dragon flew over their heads, landing in a valley not far away, burning several sheep beforehand that had tried to flee from it in terror.

They started to run in that direction, clambering down the stones, stopping only when the dragon’s head turned towards them, concerned.

He looked at her and swallowed hard, watching with some kind of admiration as she moved towards the creature, several times her own size, without any hesitation.

A male dragon the size of Meleys, he thought with satisfaction.

He could fight and make a difference, protecting him and Vhagar.

“Lēkia.” He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. “Older brother.”

“Lēkia.” She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

[ducksdontdraw]

star fragment study #1 ~ aquarius

[muleumpyo]

someone will remember us i say even in another time If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho - trans. by Anne Carson

[ven-of-oath]

I think what makes me feral about the ending is that I think martyn was going for the ' the watchers want a poetic final battle so I'm not going to give it to them' which is true in a 'we the audience are the watchers' but in the whole fanon 'watchers are the higher powers that control the games' he technically did exactly what they wanted him to do in last life but in lim life this time, in last life the watchers wanted him to kill ren then Scott and claim the victory but he failed to betray ren last minute getting himself killed, in lim life same situation except this time he succeeded in killing his ally then finishing the other person left taking the win.

Idk I just really like the 'the watchers finally got to him angle'

[fairydrowning]

Lord Huron was all so right when they said "I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you."

[fragmentedask]

Why, look at you! Landing right on your feet, like a very handsome, active senior cat. Oh, if only somebody else could have seen it ...

Here's a terribly asymmetric golden star for your achievement.

* It says "your did it" .

[sherrymagic]

Papang Phromphiriya as DADDY DAN and Mark Pakin as NICK ONLY FRIENDS EPISODE 9 PREVIEW

[wawtif]

more stuff from instagram

I still weep at how little relevance my boy gets

[sunderwight]

has anyone written a Loki series fic where Don the Jet Ski Salesman comes home one day to find his boys hiding something in the garage, and is tiredly like "is it snake? I better not go in there and find out you guys robbed a zoo--" only to open the garage door and see an injured, bewildered frost giant Loki prodding cautiously at a bag of doritos (the boys attempted to provide sustenance) (could be angst or good just be the version from the What If? episode trying to recover from a bender with Thor)

[ohraicodoll]

Possession | Chapter 1

Chapters:  1/5 Fandom:  The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating:  Mature Relationships:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Complicated Relationships, General complicated feelings, Dream is an IDIOT, they both have baggage, Past Relationships, Angst, OFC: Dahlia,1st POV Summary: In which Morpheus has a temper, jealousy is a problem, and past relationships never stay in the past. 3rd in the Fragments Series  | Read on AO3 Writing Masterlist Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5  Previous in Series: Touch Starved Next in Series: Interwoven

CHAPTER 1:  Being Clever Never Got Me Very Far

( General warnings for this chapter: sexual content, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse)

Balancing the waking world and the Dreaming remained a challenge and one that Lord Morpheus wasn’t making any easier. Despite his admonishments about the negative impacts of Dream Walking on my everyday life, he had effectively shoved that under the rug now that he had me to himself every night. It was hard to focus on keeping up mundane things like a job and bills and friendships when at night you could travel anywhere and see anything plus had an immortal being driving you nuts in the best possible way. The vibrant colors of the waking world, revitalized by meeting Dream, had started to gray again and I was having to force myself to keep to normal sleeping hours and not waste the day away. The laundry was piling up, dishes needed to be done, and I needed to do something with myself. As much as I wished he would, I rarely saw Morpheus outside of dreams as he was still working on rebuilding his realm and attending to his duties. Occasionally, he would meet me at the café he’d surprised me at so long ago, both when I thought he was going to kill me and after our first time together. I had to get over my awkwardness at being the only one to eat, but he drank coffee and would tell me about the lives of the people that walked passed. He knew their dreams just by looking at them and in turn, knew their lives. My mind wandered to Lucienne’s library, to my small book kept there and its blank pages. Maybe that was part of his fascination with me, that he didn’t know my life. Everything was nice. It wasn’t healthy to be around each other 24/7 afterall and he had a job to do, same as me. Just on vastly different scales. Besides, he had no obligation to see me. We were casual lovers, or fuck buddies as I had deemed us crudely once, something he took offense to but didn’t necessarily argue against. He craved affection even if he didn’t say so with words. My need to be around him was just the newness of it, that constant pull to be next to him and touch him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship that lacked any sort of commitment. Dream of the Endless had seen all there was, had existed longer than most of the stars. It was hard not to be enraptured by that. So I forced myself to be good with what I got. It would fade and I would be able to be more productive, balance things better. I had begun to write again or attempt to, with Lucienne’s encouragement that my work was good. I had a lot of mental and emotional blocks when it came to writing, ones I didn’t want to get into yet, and I was grateful to have support both in the waking world and the Dreaming. More effort was put into my job at the book publisher, taking on more responsibilities in the hope that when I did have something decent I could show them. I even let Anissa, my coworker, take me to after work drinks though I suspect it was mostly an attempt to get me to spill the details on Morpheus or to get me to date one of our coworkers. She had been the one to encourage having some “fun” after my breakup and I was very bad at hiding that I had, in fact, followed that advice. Just not in the way she suspected. Things were okay. They were fine. But it was only a matter of time before our own hang ups would begin to surface. My life, my history, was unknown to him and I was a bit grateful. I’m not sure how I would feel if he knew everything about me and I knew hardly anything from him. It also meant he couldn’t see all the baggage there. We both had it. He had said he had had past relationships, obviously from being eons old, had told me about Killala that first talk while comparing cheating exes. Had bonded over mutual pain and disrespect. But beyond that, the details of our lives remained blank to each other. Stories and nothing more. I should have noticed when I saw maintenance go in and out of my neighbor Janine’s apartment that she had moved out. She had downright started avoiding me at all costs after I caught her in my bed with my then boyfriend, Thomas. The same boyfriend whose dream I then went into and broke one of the rules, smashing everything to bits and causing Morpheus to find me for the first time. I guess I should have thanked her for the introduction if she wasn’t a miserable hag. I’d seen her dreams, seen the countless escapades she had all the while knowing they were attached and she didn’t care. If she had wanted Thomas, she could have him. But now, I was mostly relieved that she was finally gone and I could walk through the hallway of my complex with ease. Coming home after work, my neck ached from stress and I towed off my shoes at the door, dropping my bag to the ground in a heap. Taking on more responsibilities at work meant my brain was mush by the time I made the walk home and it was a lesson in focus to not just daydream the day away. I had the whole weekend ahead though which meant I didn’t have to set an alarm and could stay in the Dreaming however long I wanted. It sounded divine after the stressful week I had. I was finally getting the hang of Dream Walking after a few more actual lessons from Morpheus, though he still loved to distract me. I was even getting better at doing it without using doors, even if my aim wasn’t always accurate and I had to bounce around a few times. If the dreamlord wasn’t with me, I still liked to imagine them because it was easier on my brain. Tonight I was going to explore more of the Dreaming beyond just Morpheus’ chambers and he could come along or mope on his own. A knock sounded at the door just as I was about to change out of my work dress, causing me to pause. No one ever came to visit. The number of friends I had could be counted on one hand, I had no family, and no one I knew made unexpected social calls. Frowning, I padded quietly over to the door and stood on my toes to look through the peephole at whoever was knocking. Maybe maintenance got the wrong door or something. You gotta be fucking kidding me. Thomas stood there, brown hair disheveled and button up shirt wrinkled. Even through the tiny window, he looked pathetic and I was almost certain it was on purpose. He liked to be prim and proper, even outside of work, unless he wanted something. The man had hardly ever had anything bad happen to him so he liked to play at being a victim whenever he could. It was mind boggling now, two months later, that I had stayed with him for over a year. “Then why did you stay with him?” Morpheus’ words bounced back in my head. Because he wasn’t the worst. Because he was interested in me. Because I was dumb and lonely and he made the world colorful at least for a bit. But even looking back now, that color paled in comparison to anything I felt now. I had blocked him from everything after waking up from his dream, the image of the King of Dreams sitting in the corner of an imagined bar after I had smashed everything to bits still fresh. Thomas had tried to reach out, though not very hard, but I ignored him and even when he showed up to my workplace, reception had shooed him away. It wouldn’t have surprised me if his attention had then turned to Janine and now that she was gone, most likely kicking him to the curb, here he was. I chewed on my lip, debating what I should do. Knocks reverberated through the door again, louder this time and I winced. “Dahlia, please, I know you’re in there,” his muffled voice shouted through the wood. I groaned inwardly. Fuck, if Matthew had been keeping an eye on him or me still then he at least could had warned me Thomas was coming. He knocked again and I knew my neighbors were going to get curious if he kept it up. “Dahl, please. Just hear me out!” Thomas shouted, a pathetic edge to his voice. I wanted to slam my head into the door, bemoaning my luck. Bracing myself, I sighed and unlocked the door, opening it only partly and blocking the view into the apartment. “What?” I bit out with pressed lips and annoyance painting my face. The guy looked worse closer up, shirt a mess and eyes a little bloodshot. He also reeked of booze which sent my body on high alert instantly. Anxiety and fear, old and familiar, sank into my bones. “Please,” he repeated, taking a step towards the door, “Can I come inside so we can talk?” “No,” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door jam, teeth clenched. My patience with him was thin and after time apart, my backbone had strengthened again. I had put up with a lot, hadn’t screamed or raged in his face when I had caught him naked in my bed. He was lucky that all I did was smash his dream, which I’m sure he had no recollection of. “Dahl-” “I’m sorry, you don’t get to ask for anything from me,” the growl that left my throat cut him off, eyes slightly wide at the tone, “You can say what you want to say here or I can shut the door in your face and you can leave.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He had never dealt with this side of me. Most arguments between us I had let slide, not feeling up to putting in the effort and letting him get his way. It was always easier than to fight, a lesson I had learned a long time ago. But it had fueled his ego and he thought me to be small and docile. That part I was willing to claim was my fault, but now- now I had teeth and I wasn’t afraid to bare them. “I’m sorry,” Thomas started, “What I did was selfish and awful and I am an asshole.” “A few months late, but so far not arguing against that,” I commented, glaring. “I miss you, Dahl,” he pressed on and stepped even closer, only a foot away now, “Please, I want us to work-” “No you don’t,” I cut him off. The indignation was plain on my face as I sneered at him, “You made your choice, Thomas. There is no working it out. You fucked another person in my home and are barely putting in the effort to apologize now? You’re not sorry, you just want me to be your safety net because you thought I was a pushover.” That barely concealed anger was in his eyes and he shoved a hand through his shaggy hair, “That’s not true. I love you-” “Oh get the fuck out of here with that bullshit,” I scoffed, finally fed up with wasting my time and hearing the crap pouring out of his mouth, I moved to shut the door. But his foot shot out, blocking the way, and before I could process it he had pushed into the apartment and shut the door behind him. The movement had been fast, calculated, and I cursed myself for even opening the door and not just calling security to kick him out. Even though he smelled of alcohol, his motor functions were still sharp and I should have made sure my guard stayed up. I knew better. Now my heart was hammering and I stepped back, putting space between us as he blocked the door. My mind tried to run through a dozen different scenarios, strategies, paths to either get him out or get away. There was pepper spray in my bag, I could run for it or the bedroom and lock myself in, under the couch was a baseball bat I kept just in case. He was drunk and could never take no for an answer and I should have been more aware. Thomas raised his hands like he was calming a riled horse, placating but voice desperate, “I only want to talk, you won’t let me talk! Please, you need to hear me out.” “I don’t have to do anything, Thomas,” my voice was steady but firm, one foot sliding behind me so I could pivot for the bedroom if I needed to, “You are going to get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.” “Stop, Dahlia, I want you back!” Though he was pleading, his hands clenched and unclenched and annoyance vibrated through him at my continual refusal, “I’m not leaving until you listen.” His eyes were wild and I knew he was on that edge of being reasonable or doing something we both may regret. Men like him didn’t consider consequences because they had never experienced them and that made him dangerous. I felt the slight breeze first before the ripple of power swelled over my skin, blanketing it and wrapping me in its first embrace while blazing through the room in hot fury. I didn’t have to turn to look behind me to know Morpheus was standing there, anger coming off him in waves and presence darkening the doorway. My breath caught in my throat. I had only ever felt his actual anger once, in the nightmare where we finally confronted each other. It had been all encompassing, those black eyes piercing right into my soul and stars bright enough it could burn me away. I watched hesitantly as a bit of fear entered Thomas’ eyes at last and though I knew I shouldn’t, I felt satisfaction at seeing it there. The Dream King entered the room from the bedroom where he definitely had not been a few minutes ago and stepped quietly next to me, hand brushing mine and long black coat grazing my legs from his proximity. Too close to be casual, definitely not after leaving my bedroom, and a clear outward sign of who he was to me. Thomas tried to hold his ground and kept his chin raised but I could see the tension there as he looked back and forth between us and took him in. The brown haired man didn’t stack up, could never compare. Morpheus was a storm at my side, voice quiet but powerful, “You will leave, Thomas McNara. Now.” I resisted the urge to look up at him, could easily feel the building anger he was holding back the longer my ex didn’t do as he commanded. He was dangerous, a volcano ready to devastate, and it was all targeted at one person. But Thomas was never the smartest and was too dumb to know when to back down. Brown eyes swiveling back to me, he scoffed and scrunched up his face incredulously, “Are you serious, Dahl? This is who you got with-” The one step forward the dreamlord took was enough to cut him off, the air growing thin in the room as Dream advanced and snarled, “Keep silent. You have ignored every word she has spoken, disrespected her, and entered her home uninvited. You are pitiful.” Morpheus glared down at him, blue eyes dark as he looked down his nose at the human whose bravado was crumpling by the second. Energy crackled and in that moment, even in the waking world, he looked every bit the ancient, powerful being that he was. Thomas could see it then, that he had drawn the attention of something that was far greater than he could ever imagine and had its ire. “I have seen your dreams, Thomas McNara,” the Lord of Dreams hissed and took another step towards him, “You treat women as toys and want what you cannot have. I assure you, she is not yours to possess and never will be again. Leave now and count yourself lucky I am being merciful for her sake for I could do far, far worse . ” Thomas’ brown eyes almost flicked to mine but he kept himself from looking at me, face pale with fear and sweat sliding down his temple. One step, then two, and he backed away to the apartment door and left, fumbling along the way and tripping out the door into the hallway. The door shut with a loud bang that echoed through the space. The tension didn’t immediately leave now that we were alone. Dream was a bow string pulled too tight, threatening to unleash at any moment. I swallowed hard and reminded my brain that the rage was in my defense and not directed at me. I didn’t have anything to fear from him, but I had never dealt with this kind of anger easily. I blinked and it was someone else standing in his stead, fists clenched tight and eyes drilling holes into my skin as if he could skin me alive with just a look. I blinked again and the image melted away, leaving just the King of Dreams standing with his back to me with his coat so black it looked like the abyss. Taking a few deep breaths, I grounded myself and focused on what was happening now, trying to forget the brief flash of memory. With a few steps, Dream’s coat was within reach and I gently trailed my fingers down his shoulder and arm until cool skin met mine. He didn’t react at first, hands hanging at his side, but I slowly intertwined one hand with his and gave it a squeeze as I rested my cheek against his shoulder blades. In a breath, the tension slowly seeped from him and I hugged him fully from behind, able to breathe easier as his power pulled back into him and the air cleared. “Are you okay?” I asked into his coat, hand in his and the other wrapped tightly around his waist from behind. He was so thin, but lean muscles tensed along his back and under my cheek. He was always the one to wrap himself around me, so the change in stance was new and one I enjoyed. A dark chuckle left him and I could feel the reverberations through his back, “Am I not supposed to ask you that instead?” I hugged him tighter and felt comforted when his free hand caressed my arm gently and he sank into the touch, “I’m okay, I’m safe, nothing happened. I haven’t ever seen him that…crazed, but he was just drunk. Even if you didn’t show up, I could have gotten him out. But thank you for coming to defend my honor, your highness.” I made my tone as light as possible, joking in the hopes he would come down from his anger if he saw that I wasn’t freaking out. I could practically hear the thoughts churning in his mind, replaying the situation over and over again, but at last, he relaxed. Keeping my hand in his, he turned to face me and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. I could see it now, the remnants of whatever Thomas had seen and feared. Though his eyes were still blue, the endless night sky peaked there, fathomless and encompassing and terrifying. His skin had paled to that marble tone he had in the Dreaming, lips pressed in a thin line. He looked like a god, glorious and terrible. My heart raced as I took him in and I found it hard to swallow, knowing that this otherworldly creature held interest in me, had come to make sure I was safe. “She is not yours to possess.” The words echoed through me as I stared at him, a complicated feeling bouncing around. He noticed brow furrowing and a hand coming to rest on my cheek, elegant pianist fingers brushing my bangs from my eyes, “I can recognize when something is troubling you. What is it?” I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think. Our relationship was…strange. Seeing an anthropomorphic personification came with zero rules unlike every other relationship I’d been in. There was no talking about what we were, boundaries, commitments. Exclusivity. We’d simply gone along with it, letting attraction and desire lead us, but feelings were avoided. Feelings were going to remain avoided, but him coming and stepping in. That had been something. I realized it then that it wasn’t fully rage he had been feeling or that had caused him to bare his teeth at Thomas. It was possessiveness. “You said-” I swallowed, trying not to choke on the words, “you said I wasn’t his to have.” Those blue eyes of his had settled, becoming more human-like, but I could see the flash of want and apprehension there, “Was I wrong?” Despite my trepidation, heat pooled low in my belly at the tone, “I don’t know, you tell me.” He stepped closer, chest pressed against mine and hand trailing down from my cheek to lightly wrap around my neck. My heart beat loudly in my ears and my body was tingling, sensitive to each touch of his skin on mine and shooting lightning down my nerve endings. Possessiveness had always been a double edged sword for me. Too much was toxic, restricting, frightening. Had destroyed me one suspicious look at a time and caused so much pain. But on the other hand, I wanted to be Dream’s. Wanted to know that I had been deemed worthy enough of the Lord of Dreams’ attention and not only that, that he wanted me all to himself. His head lowered, nose skimming along mine and breath mingling there, “While you are your own person, little dreamer, and are free to do as you wish, I will warn you- I do not share.” The words were low and dark and trailed along my skin like the edge of a feather, making me swallow a moan. “I give you this choice now, Dahlia Morrowland, ” Morpheus continued, my name whispered along my lips as he tilted my chin up to meet his eyes under lowered lids, baring the long expanse of my neck, “If you wish to have other lovers, we can end this game now. You are welcome in the Dreaming, in my palace, and I will not fault you. I will not deny you my presence… but if you wish for us to continue, I am afraid I will not be able to help myself. You will be mine and mine alone.” I shivered at the dark promise, breath catching in a way I’m sure he knew. My skin felt tight and hot and all I could focus on was the simple loose wrap of his fingers on my neck like he was branding me. His words rattled through me, setting flame the parts of me I wished for him to touch. I managed to swallow and meet his gaze, the heady want there reflected in my own, “I’m not ending this. And just so you know, I don’t share either. You are mine, dreamlord, if you wish to be.” He smirked, the slightest tilt of his lips, at the declaration before tightening his grip on my neck and pulling me to him, lips crushing. It was his own answer, his own agreement. Yes, yes, he did wish for that. My hand left his and wrapped around his neck as I stood on my toes to reach him, tongue delving into his mouth and moaning into him. His own caressed mine, sucking and teasing while completely devouring me. Dream in the waking world was different than in the Dreaming. He was tangible, real, made of true flesh, tasting of honey and mint, and smelling of early morning rain. And for the first time, he was in my apartment. He was mine. Mine. And I was his and it felt like too much and not enough all at once. The Dream King trailed his hands to my thighs and in a quick move, lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried my weight easily. The hard press of his arousal was against me and I gasped into his mouth as he pushed me against the wall, back jolting at the contact. He deepened the kiss, ravenous and impatient. It was a frenzy of teeth and lips, his mouth leaving mine to kiss his way down my neck as his lips sucked at the pulse there. His teeth bit gently and I moaned, heat shooting through me sharp and sudden. The skin would be dark and apparent tomorrow, I knew that, but something deep and primal was pleased at the mark. Let them see. My fingers ran through his hair, dark and soft, and lightly grazed my long nails along his scalp until he moaned against me to my satisfaction. I had learned that he loved the feel of nails scratching, the sharpness against his skin, and his head was extra sensitive. He rocked against me and I hissed at the feel of him against me, separated my layers of clothing. I unwrapped my legs from his waist and braced myself, hands going to his jeans to get them unbuttoned and off of him. His own hands went to the hem of my dress, squeezing my exposed thighs and finding my drenched underwear. I moaned loudly as he cupped my sex, savoring the arousal wetting the fabric there. Running fingers up and down the thin covering, I gasped and twitched at how sensitive I was already. I was trembling, fingers shaking as I finally got his pants free and pulled the zipper down. We were getting impatient, the real world limitations meaning he couldn’t just magic our clothes away. With a quick jerk, he ripped the panties off easily, dropping the scrap of fabric to the floor as I lowered his jeans and freed his pulsing erection from them. “Excuse you. I liked those,” I growled at him. My hand wrapped around his cock, pleased with the way he jerked into my hand and hissed out a moan under his breath. His skin was the texture of velvet, soft to the touch but hard in my hand, and I savored each delicious stroke and ragged breath that left Morpheus’ mouth. My mind could only focus on the feeling of him and the words mine, mine mine over again. “You can easily acquire more later, though wearing none around me would be preferred,” the dreamlord gritted out, fingers in my hair and clenching my thigh tightly as I moved my hand over him steadily. I smirked, watching his eyes close against my ministrations, thumb rubbing the tip of his erection and sliding the precum there over him, “You going to buy me some with your fake money?” My palm squeezed him and a moan slid from his mouth, raw and wanting. He turned his head and his lips met mine in a frantic rush, tongue warring and fighting for dominance. Impatient, Dream pulled my hand off of him and gripped my thigh, lifting it around his waist and sheathing into me in one fast thrust. There was no foreplay, no slow build. The move was quick and hard, an edge of pain tingeing it at the feeling of him, large and buried to his base suddenly filling me. I was tight around him, each glorious inch filling me completely. The pain faded quickly though it only served to amplify the pleasure, as he pressed me firmly against the wall and fucked me hard. The angle was delectable, hitting the perfect spot inside me every time, and I couldn’t  stop the cries that poured from my lips as he pulled out almost fully then rammed back in. I could only hang on. He still wore his coat and shirt, both of us not even fully unclothed, and my nails dug into the fabric. Feeling the friction of his clothes against my sensitive skin heightened the pleasure while my own skirt was pushed up around my waist. He grunted with each desperate thrust, lips against my throat as he bit and sucked and tasted my skin. The brink of my orgasm was coming fast as I drowned in the rapture and ecstasy, body pulsing and clenching around him. He went harder, faster, pouring all his want and possessiveness into me. Each hard thrust branded my skin with the word mine , each kiss claiming, and each mark on my body a sign that I was with the King of Dreams and would be his alone. It should have scared me, having this type of attention from someone like him. It had scared me with lesser men. I had bucked and thrashed against the possessiveness before, had feared it, but with him I drank it down. Because even as he claimed me, he willingly let me claim him as well, offered himself up to me as equals. And so I wrapped my arms tight around him, rode the waves of my orgasm as it crashed into me and ripped his name from my mouth. Stars exploded behind my eyes, nebulas swarming, and I felt like I was floating in a storm I had no control of. He followed soon, giving a final hard thrust before releasing into me with a groan. His lips still lingered on my skin and sweat clung to both of us, the straps of my dress askew and his collar half upturned from my grabbing. We both looked completely and thoroughly fucked and at that thought, I couldn’t help but laugh. The reaction caused my body to clench around him and he grunted into my skin. Dream’s fingers soothed the skin of my thigh before helping me to lower it from his waist, both of us unable to keep from letting out a small groan as the movement shifted our sensitive bodies. It pleased me that I wasn’t the only one with a worn out body. His gaze met mine with a raised brow, skin now a warmer shade and eyes settled. I just grinned at him, wide and unrestrained, tongue between my teeth, “Hi.” With a quirk of his lips light-heartedly and something like affection gentling his face, he replied softly, “Hello.” I gave him a tender kiss, lips dragging against his and savoring their taste, before pulling back, “I guess we can cross off having sex for the first time in the waking world off the list. Along with wall sex. Very efficient work, your highness, good job.” Caught between amusement and confusion, furrowed his brow quizzically, “A list, little dreamer?” Giving a half-hearted shrug, I smiled up at him, “Less a list, more like ideas.” Morpheus’ eyes darkened and I could almost feel him hardening inside me. I knew then that I was doomed. Because there was nothing the Lord of Dreams liked more than a challenge and he was more than willing to make sure we thoroughly explored all those ideas of mine along with a few of his. The evening was spent in my apartment as he claimed me over and over again, worshiping every part of me and leaving no part of me unmarked. And I did the same in turn. I didn’t know what it meant fully as we didn’t discuss feelings or what being with each other meant, but I was okay with what I did know and what I was given. That would be something to think about later.

[borntobelime]

Special shout out for @fate-inspiration because of her i am now a fan of this Character

For those who don’t know if are you familiar with Fate Prototype its original series before the fate series

This guy is not a character to the story line he is a character who appears in a flashback of King Arthur

During a voice novel Fate/Prototype : Fragments of sky and silver

His name is Lucius Tiberius

Lucius Tiberius was an emperor who ruled Rome during the time of King Arthur. He was called "Caesar", who was the strongest in the continent and carried the title of "Sword Emperor"

More Info on the character

He is voiced by Yoshimasa Hosoya

And if you wanna hear their fight Arthur vs Lucius (because its a voice novel) i placed a link to find it easier

Sure I don’t understand Japanese but i have seen enough anime to understand a bit what is happening

LINK

If i recall right Arthur had to go back exhausted from their fight back to Britain (He went to Gaul to free them ) thus why he lost his life against Modred because he didn’t had time to fully recover

Here is a few extra images without the lights and extras

honestly he has such an interesting design and we don’t have a lot of material to work with

But it would be interesting if Fate Grand Order maybe make him a playable character

[micamicster]

Bruce Springsteen's third album BORN TO RUN as Penguin Classics (inspo): Odilon Redon / Romere Bearden / Max Regot Selling Company / Lewis Hine / Ulpiano Checa / Edgar Degas / Thomas Cole / El Greco

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

To Shape A Dragon’s Breath

YA fantasy

a young Indigenous girl finds & bonds with a dragon hatchling - the first time in many generations for her people - and is required to go to the coloniser’s dragon academy in their mainland city, to learn how to raise her dragon and the science of its magic

historical inspired setting on the cusp of industrial revolution with steampunk vibes

bi polyamorous MC, Black lesbian SC, nonverbal autistic SC

[athousandbyeol]

i have yet to watch unknown but from the spoilers i see, i think the difference between yuan of four years ago and four years now is so apparent that it's beautifully and subtly portrayed, especially in that scene where yuan and qian are in the car. i think yuan now knows where to push and pull himself whenever he's with qian? he now has control over the situation—over qian—and i think it's so... intimate and heartbreaking.

i noticed he had quite a 'brash' approach when he was younger, probably to insinuate his immaturity. driven solely by feelings and not logic. but now, he's more composed. he knows what cards to play, and that drives qian mad. i can see the growing desire in qian to have that—to have everything yuan is giving. but i guess there's always going to be this underlying hesitancy and uncertainty that he can't put into words—the unknown. yet i think the near-death experience is a potent turning point in qian's life. the fear of losing yuan forever surpasses the fear of the unknown.

i guess this is qian's sign to finally accept that he had crossed the line between brothers long ago, and his feelings for yuan are now known.