#i feel like. in universe this is the only kind of death anyone would Accept from him. which absolutely enrages me

[talentforlying]

WHY DID THE AUTHOR KILL YOU OFF?

DEATH AS REDEMPTION. some things cannot be forgiven. what a shame, then, that so many consider forgiveness to be the be-all, end-all of character redemptions. or that forgiveness in itself is the redemption. whatever sins you committed, whatever actions weigh your soul down, the author has decided that you cannot make up for it . . . and so they will not let you try. no, you will not even be allowed to try and put as much positivity into the world as possible. ( you cannot restore the balance, but surely you could do something? ) instead, there is only one thing to do: sacrifice yourself. you'll take a bullet meant for the hero, or tackle the villain off a cliff ( dooming you both ), or you'll use the last of your magic to get everyone else out safely.

when the heroes speak of your death, they will act as if you have undone all your wrongs, as if dying was the holiest gift you were capable of giving. i cannot help but wonder . . . how much more could you have done, if you had only been given the chance?

[lemoncrushh]

Ruin the Friendship

Summary: It's Ella's birthday, and her best friend Harry plans to tell her how he feels about her.

Warnings: None, just sweet, sugary fluff

Word Count: 5.2k+

A/N: Uni!Harry x OC, AU, friends to lovers one shot written in third person, originally from 2019. I think my first plan back then was to include some smut, but as I was writing, I decided it was not needed. I think you'll see why and agree. Also, Liam and Niall are in this one :).

Ella was his best friend. Some people would say Niall was Harry’s best mate, and while he considered that to be true for the most part, if anyone was to ask, he’d proudly declare that Ella took the title. They’d only known each other since the first year of uni, but in that time they’d grown very close, and if Harry was honest, there were things they shared that he didn’t share with the lads.

Not things like details about girls he fancied or the head he’d gotten that one time from Marla Lemons. He could only talk shit like that with his mates, and he reckoned Ella wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway. But they could have deep conversations well into the night about nothing and anything, musing about life and death and what it all really meant. He’d known Niall for nearly a decade, and while he could chat him up about complete random shit, he wasn’t the type to talk about things like that.

Sometimes it was nice to have a friend to just chat about nothing with.

One thing he’d never been able to tell Ella, however, was that he secretly wanted to be more than friends. He’d never made a move, and other than holding her hand when she was scared at the haunted house or wiping her tears when she’d cried about an exam she’d failed, he’d barely touched her. Something had happened that first year at university that had put them in the friend zone, and he eventually accepted that was just how it was meant to be. At least for a while. But this last year had been different. Something had shifted, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Harry stood in the kitchen, his hand around a red cup filled with some sort of concoction that smelled entirely too sweet. He didn’t really want to get shit-faced tonight, that wasn’t his plan. Not that he really had a plan. But it was Ella’s birthday, and if he had anything to say about it, it would be her best one yet. The last three had been fun as far as he could recall, except for the time some girl Niall had been dating...Lena? Lorna?...had gotten so wasted she threw up on the rug. Ella, being the kind soul she was, insisted on cleaning up, holding her nose with a clothespin until Harry finally pulled her away, yelling at Niall that he should clean up his own girlfriend’s puke. Later that night, sat with Ella up on the roof, Harry had thought about confessing his feelings to her. But it just hadn’t felt like the right time, and given that he was still pretty drunk himself, he was afraid Ella would simply blame it on that and not take him seriously.

So the friendship continued.

“Hey mate, you gonna drink that or are you trying to read your future in it?”

Lifting his head, Harry saw his friend Liam enter the kitchen, walking up to the counter beside him and pouring himself a cup of the same pink liquid.

“What’s in this?” Harry asked.

“Hell if I know,” Liam shrugged before taking a large gulp. “Mmm, tastes like bubblegum.”

“Blech!” Harry sounded after taking his own sip, making a face of disgust. “Nah man, where’s the good stuff?”

“Right here, mate!” exclaimed Niall as he strutted into the kitchen with a case of beer in each hand. Two more lads followed him in, carrying the same. Leave it to Niall.

“Not what I meant,” muttered Harry, walking around them to the living room.

The front door opened then, and another handful of people entered, some he knew, some he didn’t. He recognized Vickie, Ella’s roommate among them and when she spotted Harry she smiled.

“Birthday girl’s on her way,” she announced, setting a bag on the counter. Harry noticed the clinking sound it made which made his ears perk up.

“Harry!” Liam called as Vickie pulled out the bottles of both brown and clear liquor. “I think this is what you were looking for!”

Turning back to the kitchen, Harry eyed the bottles and was about to make a decision when a commotion started behind him. It wasn’t a surprise party, but it seemed every girl in the house had run to the front door to greet Ella when she arrived. Harry stood back, his hands in his pockets as he watched her beautiful smile, the pink in her cheeks when her friends hugged her or wished her a happy birthday.

He contemplated stepping forward to give her his own wishes, but soon thought better of it, deciding he’d give her time with her girlfriends first. Instead he made himself a drink, a proper strong one. At least one, he told himself. He didn’t need to get hammered, but he’d need the liquid courage if this was to finally be the night he told her how he felt about her. While he was at it, he reckoned he’d make a drink for Ella as well. He knew what she liked.

“Happy Birthday Ella!” he heard Liam exclaim over the loud music.

Harry looked up from his drink to see that the lad had beat him to the punch as he offered Ella a red cup of what he could only assume was the disgusting pink shit. He chuckled when he saw her make a face and shake her head.

“Um, no thanks, darling,” she said. “I think I’ll see if Harry has something more to my liking at the bar.”

He felt a warmth ooze throughout his body at both the mention of his name and the fact that she called the simple kitchen island with a handful of liquor bottles a bar. He watched as she took a couple strides through the living room and met him with a smile.

“What’ve we got here, bartender?” she asked.

Harry raised a brow. “Oh am I bartender? No one told me.”

“I’m joking,” she giggled, placing a hand on his bicep. “But can you make me something? I am the birthday girl, after all.”

With a smirk, Harry handed her the drink he’d mixed. “Just so happens I already did.”

A wide smile spread across Ella’s face as she took the cup. “See, this is why we’re besties.”

Harry’s face fell, but he quickly tried to compose himself. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yeah. You bet.”

Besties. Right.

“Hey, Ells Bells!” they suddenly heard behind them. They both turned to see Niall rushing towards Ella, nearly knocking her drink out of her hand when he enveloped her in a hug.

Harry rolled his eyes. He hated Niall’s stupid nickname for her. He suspected Ella wasn’t too keen on it either, especially when Harry’d slipped up once and called her that himself. She’d told him it was Niall’s name and she’d rather just leave it at that.

“Hello, Niall,” she greeted graciously, kissing him on either cheek.

“Who’s up for a game?” he asked.

Harry grimaced, knowing what kind of game Niall had in mind. But if Ella wanted to play…

“No thanks,” she shook her head. “I think I’ll sit it out this year, love, if it’s all the same.”

Niall shrugged. “Suit yourself. ‘s your birthday.”

“Besides,” Ella added with a cheeky grin, “I don’t want to end up like dear Lorna.”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand, nearly spewing out its contents. When he swallowed, he let out a loud guffaw, causing Niall’s cheeks to redden.

“Eat shit, the both o’ ya,” Niall spat before grabbing another beer from the cooler.

When he’d joined the group in the living room, the majority of them cheering at the prospect of a drinking game, Ella turned to Harry, her face flushed from laughing.

“You’re not gonna play?” she inquired.

“Nah, I’d rather not.”

“Wow. Harry Styles is not interested in getting smashed at a party?” she mocked. “Is the sky falling? Did I miss something?”

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Just don’t feel like it tonight. I mean, I’m still drinking. Just...responsibly.”

“Uh huh. We’ll see how you are in an hour or two.”

“Oh we will?” he quirked a brow.

“Yeah. I’ll check in on you, but don’t expect me to hold your hair back when you’re retching in the toilet.”

He chuckled at their playful banter. He enjoyed taking the piss and teasing each other, even if Ella only thought of it as a friend thing. She didn’t need to know it gave him a boner sometimes.

“Styles, you’re not playing?” Liam called from the living room where a large group had gathered around the coffee table.

Harry simply held up his hands.

“It’s early yet,” Ella winked.

Early, indeed, Harry thought. Too early. He wanted this night to be over already, or at least get past the first part so he could possibly get a chance alone with her to give her his gift. He didn’t want her to open in front of everyone else. It was too personal, and if by chance she didn’t react to it the way he hoped, at least he’d only get his ego bruised a bit and not have to suffer a full embarrassment.

Vickie came up to Ella then, along with another girl who’s name Harry had forgotten. They chatted amongst themselves for a bit before Ella turned to Harry, her hand on his arm. Touch number two, he noted.

“Harry, we’ll be right back, Vickie wants to show me something.”

With a nod, Harry raised his now almost empty cup and drained the rest of his drink. He considered making a second, but reckoned he should pace himself if he didn’t want to hear Ella say ‘I told you so.’

He decided to wander into the living room and watch the others playing the drinking game. Sat on the couch, he laughed when Liam had to take a shot, then Ella’s friend Melissa had to take three in a row. Poor girl, Harry thought until she declared she could hold her own.

After a while, he got bored so he walked down the hall, wondering where Ella had gone. He couldn’t imagine there was anything in the house Vickie had wanted to show her. They’d probably gone outside or to her car. The music drifted down the hall as he made it to his room and sat on the bed. He was definitely not himself tonight. Normally he’d be the first one sat on the floor for a game, or at least by now he’d have a light buzz. He just wanted a clear head, he’d told himself. But it definitely wasn’t clear. All he could think about was her and what he was going to say, if he got the chance to say it.

Running his hands down his face, he took a deep breath and let it out. He stared at the floor for a good while, replaying in his mind the scenario he’d conjured up a couple years ago, edited and tweaked over time.

“Hey, what are you doing in here?”

He jumped when he heard her voice. Lifting his head, he saw her standing in the doorway, her gorgeous eyes wide with wonder.

“Hey,” he muttered softly. “Nothing, I’m just…”

Ella stepped into his room. She’d been in there several times, but this time as she sat on the bed, Harry felt himself tremble.

“Something wrong?” she asked. “Did one of those stupid prats out there give you a hard time? Because you know, that’s my job.”

She nudged Harry’s shoulder with her own, trying to lighten the mood. He laughed lightly under his breath, but said nothing.

“Hey. Harry. I’ve never seen you like this. What gives?”

She turned on the bed to face him, her legs criss crossed. Harry picked at his bottom lip. He wondered if this was it. If this was the moment he was supposed to take action. But how? Was he supposed to give her a long speech about how he’d pined for her for years, or was he supposed to just grab her and kiss her? 

“This is probably a shitty thing to say,” Ella continued, “but I’m not sure I like this Harry. Not that you’re only fun when you’re drunk, I don’t mean that. But you’re so serious and quiet. It kinda scares me.”

“Sorry,” he said a little too quickly. “Don’t mean to scare you.”

“Something on your mind?” she tugged at his shirt. “You can tell me, you know. I’m your best friend.”

“I got something for you,” Harry finally said.

“Yeah?” Ella beamed. She bounced on the bed excitedly. “What did ya get me?”

“Um…”

“Ella!” the sound was deafening, coming from the living room. “Hey birthday girl! It’s time for cake and presents!”

“Oh!” she eyed Harry who merely shrugged. “Well, you can give me your present now.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll wait. Til later. It’s…”

“Oh,” Ella mouthed again, her voice a whisper this time. “Okay.”

Ella rose from the bed, pulling Harry by the arm. They joined the party in the living room, the drinking game seemingly at a pause. The cake sat in the middle of the coffee table, pink roses and candles atop, Ella’s name in the center.

“Thank you so much,” Ella blushed, her hands by her chest. “I’m gonna cry.”

“You say that every year,” Niall quipped.

“Hush, you!” Ella poked at him.

Vickie lit the candles and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ began. Though he sang along, Harry was mesmerized by how beautiful Ella looked in the candle light. His stomach was in knots now, and he knew he had to tell her.

Ella opened her gifts next, giving sincere thanks and hugs to each guest. When it was time to cut the cake, however, Melissa made it known that Harry hadn’t given her a gift.

“What’s with that, Harry?” she slurred, obviously drunk from the game. “You’re her best friend, where’s yours?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat until Ella spoke up.

“He’s saving it for later,” she winked at him.

Good god, how many times was she going to wink at him tonight? Had she done that before? He didn’t remember.

“Ooh,” voiced Melissa in a sarcastic tone. “Excuse me.”

Noticing Vickie could probably use some help, Harry rose from his chair and joined her in the kitchen where she was dividing slices of cake onto plates.

“Oh, thanks Harry,” she said, handing him two plates that were ready to be served.

“I should be doing this anyway,” he offered. “Seeing as I’m her best friend and all that.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to sound sarcastic, but he certainly noticed it came out that way. When he turned the corner, however, he heard a snort from Vickie, followed by a “yeah, sure”.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, what was that sound for?”

“Go,” Vickie shooed at him. “Serve the cake.”

With a frown, Harry made for the living room where he handed Ella a slice of cake, making sure it had a rose on it, and gave the other to Melissa, despite the scowl on her face.

“What did you mean by ‘yeah, sure’?” Harry hounded Vickie when he returned.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Harry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You’re lying.”

“God, don’t be so sensitive,” she scoffed. Deciding Harry wasn’t moving fast enough, she brought more cake to the living room herself.

“Please tell me,” he urged when she came back to grab the last pieces. “Do you not think I’m her best friend?”

“Oh, certainly, Harry. You are.” Then she lowered her voice before completing her thought. “But you want to be more.”

Harry glared at her, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Oh c’mon, Harry! Everybody knows it.”

“Everybody?!”

Vickie giggled. “Don’t get so bent out of shape. Maybe I exaggerated. But Niall told me about your present.”

What the...too much was going on now, Harry’s mind was in a whirl.

“How does Niall know? I didn’t show him.”

“He found it in your room. Was looking for some shorts or something.”

“Jesus,” Harry mumbled with a sigh.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone else. I have no idea who Niall told, but I reckon it was just me.”

“What the fuck…” Harry dropped his head. It suddenly felt too heavy for his neck. His entire body felt drained, and he thought he might be sick.

“Hey,” Vickie said low, “if it’s any consolation...Ella’s never confided in me about you or anything...but if you were to make a move, I don’t think she’d reject you.”

Biting his lip, he lifted his head. He was afraid to ask, but at this point he had nothing to lose.

“How do you know?”

“Well, I don’t know. But she literally talks about you all the time. I notice how she looks at you. It’s possible it’s just a friend-like fondness because she really does love and adore you. But I swear they look like heart eyes to me.”

With another sigh, his shoulders dropped. He admitted he felt a little relieved. But he was still extremely nervous.

“Thanks, Vickie,” he said.

“Here,” she grinned, “have some cake.”

“Nah. I think I’ll make another drink.” Harry grabbed a bottle and a new cup, filling it with ice.

“Whatever works for you, darling.”

Vickie joined the group in the living room while Harry nursed his cocktail for a bit. He watched Ella with her other friends, her head falling back as she laughed. Taking her final bite of cake, she looked up and their eyes locked. She tilted her head in question before rising from the couch.

“Here we go again,” she smiled as she leant against the counter. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or not?”

“Not,” he managed a grin. “‘Cause nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you over here by yourself? Are you secretly getting drunk so I won’t notice?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. So...how about that present?”

“I told you, I’ll give it to you later.” he replied, hoping his tone was light and playful.

“You’re being mean,” she pouted, resting her chin in her hand.

Harry chuckled. “No, ‘m not!”

“Well, you’re being weird then.”

“Sorry,” he muttered before taking a drink. “I just...wanna give it to you with no one else around.”

“Ooh. I’m intrigued.”

Harry noticed how her bum stuck out and she wiggled it just slightly. It almost seemed like she was keeping time with the music playing, but he wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason, he felt his blood rush to his crotch and he had to take another gulp from his cup.

“Make me one of those?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering.

Harry obliged, pouring the liquor over ice and adding soda. When he handed it to her and she took a sip, her eyes widened.

“Is this what you’re drinking?”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed.

“This is way stronger than the first one you made me,” Ella claimed.

“Well, you gotta start off slow.” This time it was his turn to wink.

“Bloody hell, Styles, maybe I am getting drunk tonight.”

Ella rarely called him by his last name unless she was scolding him. With her hand on his arm as she took another drink, he suddenly decided he liked it.

The moment was short-lived, however, when his reverie was interrupted by the noise of half the party joining them in the kitchen. Apparently it was refill time, and they all began to freshen their cups or grab beers. They all chatted for a bit, and before long the whole gang was singing a chorus of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. Harry realized he was enjoying himself, and was remembering it was a party and started to loosen up.

“Feeling better?” Ella asked, her doe eyes smiling up at him as she placed another hand on his arm. How many times was that now? He’d lost count.

He grinned, looking down at his now empty cup.

“Sorry I’ve been…” he didn’t know how to complete the sentence.

“No worries, darling,” sang Ella. “I just like it best when you’re like this. Happy and smiling. You have a dynamite smile.”

Before Harry could respond, her hand dropped from his arm and he suddenly felt a chill.

“Going to the loo,” she whispered in his ear. “Make me another?”

Harry watched her walk away before he refilled both of their cups with ice and made the same drink as last time.

“So did you tell her yet?”

Harry lifted his gaze to see Melissa standing across from him, a cheeky grin spread across her face.

“Tell who what?” he asked.

“Ella,” she rolled her eyes. “That you’re in love with her.”

Harry’s jaw dropped just as Liam and his footie pal Derek gasped.

“Wait...whoa...what?”

Harry searched the faces in the kitchen before landing on Vickie’s who simply shrugged. Then he glared at Niall.

“Don’t look at me, mate,” he held up his hands.

“It’s my fault,” Melissa admitted. “I saw the letter you typed on your laptop.”

“Letter?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Oh my God, there’s a letter?” Niall brought his fist to his mouth.

Harry thought he might be sick right there on the kitchen tile. Rounding the island, Melissa looked at him.

“Honestly Harry, I thought everyone knew. It’s rather obvious, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t think,” conveyed Liam.

“I might’ve suspected,” said Derek.

“I didn’t really know,” added Niall with a shrug. “Until I saw the box in your wardrobe.”

“What box?” piped Liam.

“I only told Vickie about it, I swear,” Niall continued. “I was wondering if maybe there was already something going on and no one told me.”

“You didn’t think to just ask me?” Harry scoffed, his jaw set. “And what were you doing in my room anyway?”

“Bloody hell, Harry!” exclaimed Melissa when he stepped closer to Niall like he was going to clock him. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like she hasn’t been in love with you for years anyway!”

“What?”

All was silent then, except for Ariana Grande who sang from the speakers in the living room as everyone turned to see Ella stood by the kitchen, her face full of shock, bewilderment and disbelief.

“Ohh shit,” someone muttered low.

“What’s going on?” Ella asked, her eyes wide and her fists at her sides. She appeared to be breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. It was Harry’s instinct to pull her away from the crowd and hold her forever, but his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground.

The others in the kitchen quickly busied themselves, the beer and disgustingly sweet punch somehow suddenly the topic of conversation.

“Ella, the birthday girl!” cheered Liam. “What can I get you to drink, love?”

“Melissa?” Ella called, ignoring Liam’s attempt at distraction. “What did you just say?”

“Um...nothing um...important,” her friend stumbled. “I was just reminding Harry here what great friends you are and how it’s a wonder you’ve...never...become...more.”

Blinking, Ella looked from Melissa to Harry. He seemed to be in the same state of shock she was in, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down each time he swallowed.

“Ella…” he breathed, unable to spit out any other word.

“Um...guys…” offered Vickie, coming around the counter with her arms open. “Now might be a good time to open that present.”

She eyed Harry strongly, giving a slow nod of her head. Her hands on each of their backs, she ushered them towards the hallway and into Harry’s room. Without a word, she closed the door behind her, leaving Ella and Harry alone.

They stood in the center of the bedroom, staring at each other and waiting for the other to speak until Harry finally broke the silence.

“Is it true?”

A blush rose in Ella’s already pink cheeks as she bit her bottom lip and nodded. Harry wasted no time erasing the space between them, taking her face in his hands and planting a soft kiss on her mouth.

Startled at first, Ella froze, her hands in the air. Then she soon relaxed, letting her hands fall on Harry’s arms as she kissed him back.

“Ella…” he breathed again when he broke the kiss, his lips nearly still attached to hers. “I’ve...I’ve been in love with you for years too.”

“Since when?” Ella looked up at him with her big beautiful eyes.

“Since...I met you?”

“Liar,” she quipped, stepping back as she tugged on the hem of his shirt.

“Well…” Harry chuckled nervously. “Soon after...I reckon it was that day after the footie game when we were walking back and you asked if I was enjoying school so far.”

Ella glared at Harry, her brows raised. “First year? I don’t think I even remember that.”

“I do,” said Harry. “Very well. You had your hair back in a plait, but the sides were falling down. The sun was starting to set, and I just thought you were the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

Ella hummed softly as she ran her hands up his chest.

“Kiss me again,” she pleaded. “Just like you wanted to then.”

Cupping her face again, Harry tilted his head and brought his mouth to hers. Ella felt the tingles right to her toes, a tiny squeak of a moan escaping her throat. That was music to Harry’s ears, and he eagerly slipped his tongue between her lips, meeting hers with a jolt of electricity. They kissed each other like they meant it, like it was everything they’d ever wanted. When Ella repeated her sound of pleasure, Harry lifted her by her bum and carried her to the bed.

“Your lips are so soft,” he declared, his body pressed against hers.

“Yours too.”

His hand on Ella’s waist, he lifted her shirt slightly until he touched skin. The connection was like fire, an explosion of all the senses. He began to kiss her neck then, feeling her pant beneath his lips, sending his blood rushing throughout his entire body.

“Oh my God, Harry,” Ella moaned. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked with a smirk. “Me too.”

“Really?

“Fuck yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because…” Ella hesitated. “I didn’t wanna ruin the friendship.”

“Me neither,” said Harry.

“So what do we do now?” Ella looked at him with equal parts desire and apprehension.

“Ruin the friendship.”

Ella giggled, causing Harry’s chest to tickle and his smile to widen.

“I guess...if both of us feel the same,” she remarked, “it’s not really ruining it, is it?”

“I suspect not.”

After a few more kisses, Harry rested his forehead against hers as he listened to both of their breathing.

“I should stop,” he groaned.

“No. Why?”

Lifting his head, Harry looked Ella in the eye. She was so beautiful, her pouty lips already swollen from his kisses, her gaze questioning. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, with her. But they’d only just confessed how they felt. Actually, they hadn’t really fully done that. Someone else had let the cat out of the bag.

“Um...let me...give you your present,” he said, sliding off the bed.

“Okay.”

Ella sat up, pushing her hair from her face as Harry rummaged through his wardrobe and pulled out a small box. Setting it on the bed, he cleared his throat.

“So um...there’s a letter that’s supposed to go with it. I was going to read it while you open the gift. It kind of explains it all. But...since you already know, I reckon it’s pointless.”

“No, I’d like to hear the letter,” Ella smiled sweetly.

“Right then,” Harry chuckled nervously while he pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. Clearing his throat again, he began to read…

Dear Ella,

Four years ago, we met in Lit class. While I didn’t make the best marks, I felt as though I aced it because you were sat next to me. Your love for literature was infectious, and I always left class with a smile on my face. I also began to enjoy your company at football games. It was obvious to me that despite the fact that you weren’t a massive fan of the sport, you came along to cheer on your friends, and I thought that was just a kind thing to do. You’ve always had a compassionate heart and a kind soul, and I reckon that’s why I began to have deeper feelings for you.

As the years have gone by, I’ve tried my best to convince myself that we’re just meant to be friends. I consider you my best friend, and I cherish our friendship more than anything. Many times I’ve wanted to tell you how I really felt, but the timing was just off, or I was chicken shit. I worried that you didn’t think of me in any other way, and being just your friend was better than nothing at all.

I still feel that way, but tonight, on your birthday, I’m putting myself out there and taking that risk. You have my heart, Ella. I want you to be mine, both my friend and my lover. I want to kiss you better than you’ve ever been kissed. I want to hold you in my arms and tell you every day how in love with you I am. You deserve the moon and the stars, the heavens and the entire universe...and I want to be the one to give it all to you.

I pray that you’ll have me as more than a friend, and accept my heart as I hand it over to you.

Yours eternally,

Harry

Dropping the paper, Harry noticed Ella was in tears, her cheeks wet as she tried desperately to wipe them.

“That was the most beautiful letter,” she whispered.

Laying the letter on the bed, Harry sat down next to it and handed Ella the box.

“I hope you like it,” he said.

It was a simple white box, unwrapped but a pink bow adorned the top. When Ella lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside sat a silver charm bracelet containing six delicate charms. She fingered each one before looking up at Harry, waiting for his explanation.

“Here, may I?” he asked, lifting the bracelet from the box.

Ella nodded and Harry unlatched the clasp and wrapped it around her delicate wrist. Ella watched his mouth as he began to describe each charm.

“A book,” he said, touching the first one. “For your love of literature. A football, for all the games you went to.”

Ella smiled, recalling all the great memories she had of watching Harry and his team.

“Two hearts…” he added. “One for your big, kind heart. And one for mine which you now own.”

Without hesitation, Ella lifted her other hand to Harry’s cheek. He smiled back at her.

“And...the moon and the stars…” he finished. “Because you deserve them.”

“Harry…” Ella murmured softly, more tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

Dropping his hands to her waist, Harry pulled her closer.

“Say you feel the same, Ella,” he whispered. “Say you love me too.”

“I do,” she declared. “I so very much do.”

Hope you enjoyed!

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[kimingyuslover]

SUNG HANBIN FIC RECS

boys like u! by @seosracha (smau, idol!au, fluff, drama)

synopsis- getting invited on an idol reality show where two groups have to live with each-other for a month seemed.. awful. but at least you got to bond with your long time crush and fellow leader over taking care of your own grown ass members?

only one by @juyomiao (smau, high school au, fluff, crack, some angst, is 'clueless idiots who dont realize their feelings are reciprocated' a genre ? i hope so)

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

cupid's arrow by @foryiujeans (fluff)

synopsis. a wall full of hearts and arrows written by mysterious cupids of ships around the school, what happens seeing your name with a certain someone?

unapproachable by @harunade (one sided enemies to lovers, only one bed trope)

falling in love with live by @taeraemisu (angst, grim reaper!hanbin, death x life, deaths, not sure if it should count but i read the book thief a couple of years ago and i am not so sure if you can consider this to be inspired by that)

synopsis ; grim reaper hanbin always appears at one’s last moment. that’s just who he is. he never wondered on how it’s like to be alive. but after certain few deaths in a row, he notices how the reader is always nearby, as if they are a sign of death too. curious, he starts to observe you. but what happens when he starts to wonder on how it feels to be alive?

can you hear me? by @taeraemisu (somewhat soulmates au, fluff but angst, different universes, the classic you-can-hear-your-soulmates-voice-in-your-head au)

synopsis ; in which reader thought they were crazy when they start to heart a certain voice in their head, finding out their soulmate is universes away from them.

blooming day by @zerobaseonefics (smau, college au, fluff, my broken sense of humor, mf who just wants to sell flower x mf who can't accept rejection to lovers ig.)

synopsis . . . never in his life hanbin would have expected to be rejected by anyone or anything. so, the day you rejected him with flowers, asking him to pay 12$ for the said rejection, he kind of lost it. alternatively, sung hanbin trying to make you fall in love with him after you broke his heart (and his perfect love record).

The follow-up assignment by @zellypop (fluff, romance, college, social media)

SYNOPSIS During a late-night rehearsal for the upcoming music club concert, Sung Hanbin twists his ankle and is rushed to the university health center. Intern nurse on duty Y/N breaks the bad news to him that his ankle is severely sprained. She advises him to rest up for a few weeks, however, things may not be so simple as the follow-up of his condition could become a graded assignment for Y/N.

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 9

don’t look back. remember? this is all we need.

if we kiss, you’ll be healed.

it’s not real. you just need someone to save.

could you at least wait until i’m gone?

everyone’s scared of something.

words just kind of fall out of my mouth sometimes.

it’s hot, sexy, heroic.

i took the blame to protect you.

this whole time, i’ve been trying to prove myself. prove that i belong. that i’m tough enough, strong enough. 

i care about you so much, but it just doesn’t feel the same as it used to.

by the way, now would be an excellent time to have a reliable therapist.

if even one person sees you, you don’t count as invisible anymore.

i give, like, a huge fuck. i give the biggest fuck.

i know we’re family.

i’m actually dealing with life or death things right now.

do you think i wanna be like this?

i suffer from anxiety and dread.

you have no idea what i’ve given up to protect you.

i will never find a new you.

i’d give you anything, because i love you.

if you’re in that much of a hurry to fucking die, you should just go and do it.

the second we stop looking for answers, that’s when we lose. 

we could’ve died. there’s no way we could’ve survived that.

i don’t wanna find out who i am without you.

we could be anywhere, i mean we could be here, we could be there, we could be anywhere in the world, but it would not matter, because you are my home. and i would really like to be yours.

you’re pretty when you smile.

maybe nothing’s ever gone.

i have to remind myself to breathe sometimes.

who doesn’t want easy? who doesn’t want to just fucking be okay?

i’ve never been more scared before. i’ve also never felt more alive.

being ready and being nervous aren’t mutually exclusive.

i respect you. you don’t take shit from anyone, including me. which is very cool.

i didn’t think you’d be the type to be into sharing your feelings.

when we had sex, it didn’t mean anything. it was a mistake.

a final girl must have a high threshold for pain.

i lost my mind for a couple of days. it just felt good to have a distraction. 

whenever i see some filth, i think of you.

the universe decided to drop a reminder of my greatest failure on my doorstep.

always focusing on someone else’s problem makes it easier to ignore your own.

i always knew that there was a part of you that i could never touch.

the best that i could do was love you and hope that that was enough to keep you here.

i’ve only ever done my best to save lives.

do not talk to me about pain.

it’s broken. i’m broken. and i can’t fix it.

you said we were a family. you lied. 

i’d play the hero ten times over if it meant being here with all of you.

so, as it turns out, my life is wherever you are.

try to concentrate on everything you have waiting for you when you get out of here.

you have someone waiting for you. i do not.

yeah i fucked up, but i did it my way.

it’s real, and i’m fucking terrified.

i’m doing way worse than sending nudes.

i can just radically accept that my mom is a cunt.

i’m like obsessed with being cool and popular. it’s fucking pathetic.

i think shitty things keep happening because i’ve been a self-centered asshole.

she’s mean to me. am i into that?

you’re just jealous because someone actually loves me.

i’ve never been this close to someone i’m not hooking up with. i just have a fucked up sense of intimacy.

you always make loving me seem like the easiest thing in the world.

it’s exhausting to lose a loved one.

she’s really great. she’s so great it scares the shit out of me.

am i being shitty? i don’t wanna be shitty.

being back in that house just reminds me i’ve always felt really, really lonely here.

talking about you ain’t making it about you.

everyone stares at me. i’m famous.

we don’t really have a great relationship just ‘cause of the whole ‘dead’ thing.

i don’t wanna be here anymore. i wanna be where you are.

so you’re mad at me for pushing you to be better?

i wanted to be here with you, ‘cause you’re in my head.

your superpower is that you’re shameless.

it’s not the end of the world. it’s just the beginning.

i know you. you’re already making decisions out of fear.

you said you needed me.

i wanted to do it with you.

so you’re willing to lose me, too?

i uprooted my entire life for you. i put you first because i care about you. i can’t believe you won’t do that for me. you’ll never do that for me.

bullshit, you’re lonely all the fucking time. you’re gonna die that way, too.

i guess all the time i feel kind of trapped because i can’t describe how i’m feeling.

[veliseraptor]

So there's a poll that crossed my dash (https://www.tumblr.com/lansplaining/739863989923856384/in-a-time-travel-situation-to-save-himself-jgy if you're curious) about what JGY would do if he traveled back in time. There's lots of incredible but totally dissenting ideas in the notes, and now I really want your perspective. JGY dies in Guanyin Temple and wakes up in the past: what's his game plan?

oh man this is an interesting question! and so much of it is "it depends", particularly on "where in the past does he end up."

I think the first answer is actually to a certain extent "freeze and despair" because the thing is that from Jin Guangyao's perspective, he's never had a whole lot of options. His mistakes - or at least, the things that got him in trouble - look like, if not inevitabilities, a question of "what could I have done that would've been better?", at least at (his own) first impression. I think a lot of the time he makes the choices he makes because he feels cornered into them. He kills Nie Mingjue because otherwise he will die. Whether he was directly responsible for Rusong's death or not (I tend to think not, but I also think the text is deliberately ambiguous), it's a matter of preserving what little reputation he has (and MDZS tells us, repeatedly, that reputation can be the difference between life and death). The incest is thoroughly accidental and, once it's done, fairly inescapable without severely damaging both his own reputation (not an insignificant matter) and that of Qin Su, who he cares for deeply; once he knows he does what he can by ceasing to be intimate with Qin Su.

The only thing that I think is definitely not about feeling cornered is Jin Guangshan's death, which is far more personal; but there is also the consideration that if he doesn't kill Jin Guangshan he is quite probably going to be pushed out, one way or another. I don't remember if it's explicit or not, but Jin Guangshan's bringing in of Mo Xuanyu isn't not a threat that Jin Guangyao is replaceable.

So I think Jin Guangyao, back in time, looks at his options and thinks what am I supposed to do that won't end in disaster, when part of what doomed me was what I am (my mother's son), in and of itself.

He can try to stay in Nie Mingjue's good graces, but that means submitting himself to abuse from Nie subordinates and accepting his "place" with the Nie, which he doesn't want. If he never works as a spymaster for Wen Ruohan, then he never has the means to gain status, and if he works as spymaster for Wen Ruohan then he gains Nie Mingjue's suspicion if not enmity, which is likely to spiral rapidly both because of Nie Mingjue's inevitable deterioration and their drastic differences in perspective in general. If Jin Guangyao ends up with the Jin, he ends up having to do the same things that make Nie Mingjue so angry with him on behalf of his father, because it's not like he can say no. If he kills his father, he might have a chance, but he's also then committed a crime that if anyone discovers it will earn him universal approbation and has to live in fear of that for the rest of his life, intensified by his previous experiences/trauma from the former timeline. If he tries to make sure Nie Mingjue dies in the war, that's risky in itself, because if he is implicated even slightly in it he's also doomed.

Then, if he's only traveled back in time to when he's already joined the Jin after the Sunshot Campaign, it's even worse: he's already in a bad position with Nie Mingjue, who is going to become a (at least potential) threat to his life, but killing Nie Mingjue triggers Nie Huaisang's revenge. Killing Nie Huaisang is maybe an option but he would have to get away with it and that's intensely risky, and not something I know that he necessarily wants to do.

(I think he would kind of like to kill Nie Huaisang. I think he is very angry with Nie Huaisang. Definitely not going to be getting close to him at all, and I think would cut him off from any personal connection as politely as possible. Imagine how Nie Huaisang would feel about this with no understanding as to why, it's fun.)

If he doesn't do anything - leaves Jin Guangshan alive, leaves Nie Mingjue alive, leaves Nie Huaisang alive - he might be able to get through it alive. But from his perspective (at least) I think there's decent odds that Nie Mingjue would kill him, or at least a significant risk of it - if nothing else, because Nie Mingjue is going to lose control eventually and Jin Guangyao is a frequent target of his anger even when he is under control. And even if that doesn't happen, again, there's likelihood that he will have to live under his father's oppressive thumb for a long time, knowing that he's, not even hated, but just worthless to him. Knowing that his mother was worthless to him, and feeling, I think, that by being filial to his father he's betraying her. If Jin Guangshan doesn't just kick him out of the sect with nowhere to go.

I do think that while there's a part of Jin Guangyao that could, maybe, accept a low status as a means to survive (and I don't know that he would have anything but a low status in any other sect but the Jin; even his killing of Wen Ruohan doesn't earn him general respect), I think he would be miserable, and always resent it. I think that would feed into the despair, too: that this is his fate, that all his struggle and striving was for nothing and this is all he can do if he wants to live. That there was never any place for him in the world.

and taken all together this is why time travel fix-its where things are different because "Jin Guangyao just [whatever]" kind of drive me a little nuts, both from a logical and a character perspective. I'm not saying it's impossible. just that it's very difficult, and there's not a lot of pathways to happiness for my boy on his own without help - and where is he going to get help? just like the first time around, he's on his own.

[mythicamagic]

Death Comes Knocking

AN: Not finishing projects seems to be the norm right now- so just take this lil 1,000 words of Lobo/Muerte x reader bc he gave me brain worms okay? Puss in Boots The Last Wish was so good you guys omg.

Pairing: Muerte x Female Reader

Rating: T

Summary: She's given a stern warning. 'No more of your kind are allowed' so she extends an offer to Death in return.

---

She’s seen him before, on the faces of those she’d loved. Their eyes would glaze over and become empty, void of all animation, becoming quiet and still as they took their last breaths. There- in the right hand corner of that glassy void in their pupils- the shadow of Death could be briefly seen, passing over and stealing all light.

The silk spinner has witnessed this countless times- from the luxury of these people’s bedsides as they peacefully passed, to freak accidents involving one too many drunken unicorns and a travelling puppet show. The world she inhabited was colourful, vibrant and endless- so it stood to reason that in this world, Death himself could be a real, breathing creature.

She just never expected to gain a personal audience with him.

“You’re becoming lonesome, inmortal.”

The woman jumped, startled so badly she lost grip on the white sheet she’d been taking down. A large hand snapped out to catch it mid-air, slowly lowering it back down to her in offering. It took a moment for her frozen hands to accept it, gazing up at the creature looming over her washing line. His shadow swallowed her whole. He gazed at her with a kind of unblinking- red eyed fixation- the kind that betrayed his identity before the suffocatingly still atmosphere did, as if time itself had frozen.

A wolf had entered her garden.

“Hate to be a bother…but when you get lonely it becomes a problem for me,” he continued in his perfectly polite tone. There was a faint, gravelly edge to his voice, but it hummed pleasantly in her ears rather than frightened her.

Recovering from her shock, the silk spinner folded her sheet and placed it atop a waiting pile.

“How so?” she found her voice.

“Well, you repeat the cycle, of course- the one that led you here,” he wandered around her humble garden, taking care to weave around bird feeders and windchimes without so much as a strand of fur brushing them. He moved on two legs like any human, not an odd sight. The graceful fluidity of his movements was alarming though. Deliberate and predatory. He was looping around her in a lazy circle that was slowly tightening. “It’s only natural…everyone’s predictable in a few certain ways: one of them is the universal truth that when you get lonely, you seek company,” he mused, finally stopping before her. “And the company of mortals just isn’t cutting it anymore, is it? Hm, my friend?”

He stood a good several feet taller than her. Not even attempting to crane her neck up, the woman tidied her basket and lifted it as if readying to walk back into her tiny cottage. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. They all die eventually, I’m not sure why you’re worried.”

With that said she took a step, only to find her wicker basket snagging on something- a sickle. The wolf practically used it as a fish-hook, turning her back to face him, and this time she had no choice but to gaze down the grey expanse of his muzzle straight into those vibrant red eyes.

“You’re not listeniiing~” he sing-songed in a gentle, cajoling tone full of too much teeth. He tilted his head with a patronising smile. “What cycle led you here?”

As if she could forget. “My creator was…lonely,” she murmured. “So, he made me, and eventually more of my kind.”

“Right you are! And I’m not such a big fan of that. Of your…kind,” a single deadly claw skimmed her cheek in a whisper of steel on flesh. The suggestion of it sent her heart racing. “You’re all so heavy. I can feel you.” All at once the playfulness vanished from his expression, leaving only a quiet sense of malice and frustration in his tight whisper. “The world won’t withstand the weight of too many of you.”

“So you’re here to stop me before I can even think about creating more immortals, is that it?”

“Bingo! My work here is done,” the wolf leaned back with satisfaction, and it felt like the garden could breathe again. Air entered her lungs, and the silk spinner shuddered quietly when his shadow drew away, allowing sunlight to kiss her skin anew.

With his silent warning given, the wolf swung his previously concealed sickle up onto his shoulder and happily strolled toward her humble gate, whistling an eerie tune.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, so quietly it was a surprise he heard her at all. But he halted immediately in his tracks. She could see his hackles rise a little just beneath the folds of his hood. “I’m not afraid, so there’s no reason for me to listen to you- Muerte.”

Death turned and met her even gaze. His silver fur fanned gently in the breeze, his tail flicking with agitation.

“Oho I really don’t think you want to go there,” light glinted off his sharp rows of teeth, the points glinting like treacherous mountain peaks. “True I can’t harvest your soul, but you’ve seen the life flashing before people’s eyes as I’ve taken them.”

He was suddenly there before her again, tilting her chin up with the flat of his blade. Her body automatically tensed, watching as the black specs of his pupils shined white, two moons hanging in a blood-soaked sky. “You were there, just as much as I was. You know- cordera- how painful it can be. How painful I can make it,” hot, panting breath fanned over her upturned face. Those rows of teeth were now inches from her ear as he leaned in close. “You won’t die, no- but are you really prepared to suffer me, over and over again, for breaking the rules?”

She swallowed. It was impossible not to picture the numerous grizzly ways she’d seen or heard people die.

Satisfaction leaked into his animalistic features. “Heh, thought so. Be seeing you.”

But I…I’m still alone.

Before he turned away, Death seemed to notice her expression. “If you’re really that hungry for company, then find the other heavy ones weighing this world down.”

“I don’t uh- get on well with the others,” she admitted weakly, knuckles relaxing from her death grip on the wicker basket. “We’d be living together if we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Touché.“ He shrugged his large shoulders, resting a sickle on one with a bored look. “Well it’s not my problem, figure it out on your own time.”

Alarm flashed through her chest inexplicably as he finally turned away.

“Wait-“

“Carajo!” he hissed, glaring at her like she’d overstayed her welcome despite him being the one to approach her home. “What is it now?”

“Since you’re the one who has a problem with me creating fellow immortals- but I’m still hungry for company- the solution is right under our noses, no?” She smiled and dropped her basket to spread her arms wide, gesturing to the humble space situated on the mountainside. “You will become my companion.”

It amused her to see his dark features become blank with genuine surprise. His triangular ears perched upon his head flicked and flattened to his skull as if he’d tasted something sour.

“Cómo fue?”

“You are Death incarnate,” she said, confidence filling her tone the more she spoke. Yes- why hadn’t she thought of it before? This was perfect. “You won’t die- and I can’t be killed and won’t age. It makes sense to keep each other company.”

“You want…my company? Mine?” He shot her a look like she was crazy.

“Is that a problem?”

He tilted his head, falling silent for a long, silent moment. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her frame as he stalked closer. “…You must be starving very badly, if your need has driven you to beg for me to be in your midst. Only the souls of the suicidal and desperate call for me.”

“I’m not quite that far gone in my apathy for life. I’m 500 years young,” she smiled, offering her human hand out to his monstrously large, silver furred one to stop him from baring too harshly down on her, stopping him in his tracks. “But yes, I am…famished,” the admission slipped out oddly breathlessly, though she was uncertain why.

His mouth slowly upturned, sizing her up in an entirely different way from before. Intrigue, perhaps? He looked just as hungry as she felt.

“Well, well. What big eyes you have,” he purred, gazing at her intently with a wicked gleam in his own red hues.

She returned his smile with one full of teeth as her hand became engulfed in fur and warmth.

From that day on, Pygmalion’s immortal bride kept Death’s company whenever he had a moment to spare.

---

End

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 20

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

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you surrendered to whatever fate awaited you.

"The Corinthian is her-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No. Not this time.”

You bowed your head in resignation.

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

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

“I said, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Morpheus!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A dream that I inspired.”

“No,” Morpheus countered.

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

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

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

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

“You need to wake up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…? I….”

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

“Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m trying to keep you alive here.”

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

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

“You have to choose one of us Rose-”

“Enough!”

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

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

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

“Because I’m not dreaming anymore.”

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

“Thanks to you two, I’m wide awake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morpheus remained silent, listening intently.

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

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

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

"And what else is there?”

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

A pause followed.

“Humanity would be consumed.”

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

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

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

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

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

“So I must uncreate you now.”

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

Even a Nightmare can dream, my Lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You did,” you confirmed.

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

“I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't doubt that you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to follow her?”

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

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

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

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

“To the Dreaming.”

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

It took a moment for you to fully acclimate.

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

"Wait. I'm not asleep, am I?”

“No.”

“So… I’m actually here? Physically?”

“You are.”

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

“Why did you take me here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morpheus considered it, lowering his gaze thoughtfully.

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

“You will not change your mind.”

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

“Sorry. It’s not going to happen.”

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

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

Sometimes, fate could be unbearably cruel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gilbert…?”

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

"You… how....?”

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

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

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

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

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

Gilbert advanced, his heavy footsteps echoing through the space.

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

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

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

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

It was unique, enchanting, and felt perfectly fitting.

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

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

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

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

"Is there truly nothing we can do?”

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

"It's not as if she asked for it.”

"I know. It's rather sad, isn't it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you savored every moment of it.

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

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

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

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

“Hello.”

His voice was a melody, smooth as liquid honey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You needn't say a thing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is time, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! Sir!”

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

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

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

“You…? You’re a Dream?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rose blinked, her tears resonating with your own emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am sorry,” Morpheus conveyed.

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

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

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

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

“You know it is.”

“So, you have no other choice.”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My lord, stop!”

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

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

Rose was taken aback. "Unity?!”

"This is Unity Kincaid," Lucienne elucidated.

What…?

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

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

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

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus remarked.

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

Hey. Rude.

“Come here, Rose.”

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

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

“But h-how?”

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

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

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

"This?" Rose mused aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodbye, Rose.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Mh?”

"You look troubled.”

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

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

"There's something I need to know.”

“I can see that. Go on.”

“Who’s the man with golden eyes?”

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

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

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

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

The irritation, the fury that ignited in his eyes.

“Describe them.”

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

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

"Morpheus, please tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did they do?”

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

How could any family member ever want to harm him?

"So... Unity Kincaid...?”

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

“But why?”

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

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

You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

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

“The Furies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

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

“Y/N.”

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

"My love—”

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

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

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

“They do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was ethereal and beautiful, yet hollow and desolate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

"I can guarantee it.”

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

“Are you?”

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

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

"Ah, now you've done it, I'm afraid.”

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

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

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

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

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

One that he could always cross to reach you.

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

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

[radioactive-earthshine]

New Kon Fic "One Weak Later" now available on AO3

Chapters 6/6 Words: 10,492 Rating: Teen and Up Category: Gen Relationships: Bart & Kon, Kon & John Henry Irons, Kon & Tim, Kon & Cassie Sandsmark Characters: Kon El, John Henry Irons, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Bart Allen, Tags: Kon El Centric, Angst, WHUMP, Melancholy, PTSD (see fic for full tags)

Summary

"Kon tried not to think about the future they all saw while they were ping-ponging through time - the year 2020 where the video archives showed their adult selves in their 30s fighting yet another war. All of them except Bart. Up until about a week ago Kon wrote the entire thing off as ludicrous and a sick and twisted joke pulled on them by time itself. But now… now…

Bart was in a coma, and he would not wake up."

War was war, and there never were any real winners. Particularly not for Kon as his mental health spirals following the Our Worlds at War event due to his guilt for being responsible for marooning his team on Apokolips. With kind and firm words from John Henry, Cassie's blunt compassion and even Bart haunting him, Kon struggles to find himself after the war.

Kon can forgive anyone, but can he forgive himself?

Excerpt

Earth wasn’t anything like how he remembered it was when he returned with his friends. Metropolis, his most beloved city, was pockmarked by the war with a haunted population that looked at him with distant eyes and made him feel like he really did step through a looking glass into another world. Even Martha Kent’s kind smile and gentle love to him was through a haze of gray and grief that washed her light out. The more guilty and paranoid part of his mind was certain it was because they were looking at a murderer, and they knew it. 

They all knew he killed Bart. His clone. Didn’t matter. Someone died that day on Apokolips. Multiple people. The Lobo clones. They all were dead because he couldn’t accept the mission he was given, and in an effort to save Steel’s life that didn’t even need saving, he instead crashed all of them on the worst planet in the universe. Less than six hours later, several hundred Lobo clones were a bloody biomass and Bart was a crumpled spasming husk. 

If Kon could have switched places with Bart, he would have, because it was his fault and Bart didn’t deserve this and… “He’s going to get better,” said Cissie as they visited Bart in his bone bleach white hospital room at STAR Labs. She sat on the bed near his large feet and rubbed his blanketed shin gently, her blue eyes glassy.   Bart, the person that Kon remembered as a bright and loud hurricane thunderclap more free than the wind, was a thin limp corpse, imprisoned in a bed and abused by his own biology. As Kon looked at Bart, he intrusively remembered the end of the real Little Mermaid story where the mermaid melted into seafoam and how serene a death it must have been, and those white blankets and pillows Bart melted into could have been bits of foam and ocean as he faded away from life.  But Bart clung fiercely to life as the machines he was hooked to beeped in disjointed harmony. 

I had to lock down all my fics due to AI Scraping so this is only visible to registered users only.

The title is spelled like that on purpose.

[faetaiity]

Haven’t seen someone do this before but

Evil! ROTTMNT AU headcannons

TW: Murder, Mentions of drugs, weapons, explosives, mentions that April might be dead, the turtles and Splinter being pricks for the most part.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crime rate is so fucking high In New York because the turtles literally just rob and attack/kill people 💀

There’s a night-time curfew, you NEED to be indoors by 9pm

Murder victims are found brutally beaten, sadly this damages the View of Mutants in the public’s eye

Surviving victims often refuse to talk about it, only muttering about mutant turtles…

In this AU, they follow the traditional Ninja occupation

Aka Trained assassins and spies

In this AU they work closely with the Foot, Draxum, and Big mama (They also cause tension between said groups because they’re little shits)

Going out after the Curfew ends up in disaster 9 times out of 10.

April isn’t friends with them in this AU and could possibly be dead.

The reader in said AU probably won’t meet them in a kind way.

Even seeing them could be a death sentence

Surviving said encounter makes them more interested in you because they tend to harm their victims pretty badly

I mean, you still had sprains from running, and small cuts from a Kunai barely hitting you, almost missing you entirely

if you manage to survive you kinda have to deal with coming home to your apartment and seeing them

After getting to know them, or you just kicking them out, they tend to stalk you if you have to go outside at night

Meaning you’re off limits to Draxum, Big mama and the foot clan

Sometimes they just come up next to you and scare you before laughing and asking how you’re doing

After awhile you get used to this, and end up spending time with them

It’s alarming when you find various trinkets and stashes in your apartment

Weapons, drugs, explosives, machinery, anything illegal you could think of.

They don’t really care if you take any of this but I wouldn’t recommend it.

Because even if they don’t care, the people they’re getting it for, definitely will.

The mutants that are the villains in the original universe aren’t aggressive in this AU

you’d probably end up befriending them

Keep them far away from the turtles and Splinter

Now for Individual headcannons

Mikey is almost always in a similar personality to ‘Dr. Delicate Touch’, it’s basically the norm, honestly this man is fucking insane, sorry not sorry

Leo is the trickster, he’s the one who plays pranks that can end in missing limbs if he’s you’re enemy, I feel like he would be really good at training attack dogs, total flirt.

Raph is,,,, Similar to 2012 Raph, aggressive, mean and not the greatest to be around if you like to push buttons, He’s made you flinch before just for the fun of it, after that he does it all the time and thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

Donnie,,,, where the FUCK do I begin with Donnie.

His brothers try to keep you out of striking distance with him, loose canon, absolute wild card of a mad scientist

He’s also experimented on misbehaving Foot members but anyway-

You probably get introduced to Splinter at some point

Does not go well.

He left you with a dislocated arm

Needless to say, you don’t go to the lair after that

They stopped knocking on your window after a few days and just break in unannounced.

First time that happened you had a friend over, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife

Mainly because Mikey was halfway through the window and your friend was staring bug-eyed at them

Donnie almost tased them, so, like any normal human, they freaked the fuck out and left your apartment running

Donnie thought it was the funniest shit ever

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Augh I love dark AU’s and I dunno if anyone else has something similar so I made this!!!

They are the men fr

I will probably accept rqs for the Dark AU, I’m just bored lmao

[princess-of-the-corner]

This is just my take, https://www.tumblr.com/princess-of-the-corner/755414313197617152/yeah-thats-what-i-meant-about-tim-killing-joker?source=share

Tim can be rather interesting when looked at through a lens of "Willing to do a murder" but only if he's not self aware about it.

What I mean is, when Tim's introduced his whole thing is wanting to see Batman back on the straight and narrow. Tim by and large has an extremely rigid and inflexible morality that he didn't inherit from Batman but his own parents/society.

This is why he hates/hated Catwoman, she is a thief and therefore bad.

HOWEVER

Tim also would lose his shit and try to kill or aim to kill and in one scenario only avoided killing by technicality far more often than people realize. The thing is though the narrative and framing never really... Realize this.

Basically:

When Tim tries to kill someone its because he's feeling so much, and the situation is so hard and even if he did almost or maybe did kill someone it doesn't say anything about Tim!

In contrast when Stephanie tries to murder her abusive dad, and is indifferent to the possible death of a guy who tried to kill her & Tim with a chainsaw, that does reflect her morality. That means she's a problem!

Its a pretty consistent double standard that gets bandied around a lot and can be quite vexing. But as said, to me he interesting way to view it is basically that between say, Tim & Steph, she is actually the one with more control.

IE, she went out with plans to murder her father, he knows her identity and tried to kill her moments before. She could still be talked out of killing him & chilled out.

In contrast, & assuming I remember this right, pretty sure I do XD

Tim tried to kill someone who had killed a classmate he didn't even seem to like that much. Said shooter was in a messy situation and the guy shot had been threatening him before and even brought a gun to school before 'straight as an arrow' Tim told on him to to his father, Jack Drake. Tim had to be forcibly held back from killing him by Stephanie and Connor Hawke.

As before, Stephanie's intro has her framed as a anti hero at best. While Tim, even after like 12 months of Bat training and plenty of case experience almost loses his head over a too personal case and goes to murder.

So yeah, I can see Tim doing a murder, but only in the context of. Tim losing his temper or getting too personally involved in a case and basically having a "My murder is morally acceptable" mentality. While still refusing to see anyone else's nuanced experience.

Honestly, Tim's a fascinating character if one leans into how Tim was very much not cut out for the life he threw himself into.

Hence steadily becoming so bitter and broken and in a "Dark Future" becoming a gun wielding Batman.

While in contrast, characters like Stephanie & Cassandra are kind of used to overcoming horrible shit and so super hero work isn't notably worse than what they're already dealt with.

Or in other words, Tim comes from a place of privilege, both in universe and in the narrative.

This informs how he has a simplistic view of the world and why he fails to register his own hypocrisy or 'moral weaknesses' and why the narrative never recognizes it either.

Which all fed into him not handling it well when he those privilege's were steadily made redundant or simply not enough to compensate for hew new circumstances and challenges, causing his hard lines to waver far more easily than he or the story realize.

That's my take anyway.

makes sense!

[lee-hakhyun]

kim dokja answers lee hakhyun's question.

can anyone dream when they want to?

he's the oldest dream, the world's most omniscient yet powerless god.

...how many years has kim dokja been here, dreaming? is this still the kim dokja we know?

lhh tells kdj that he doesn't have to handle this. that was why hsy wrote this novel, to have everyone dream, to free him from this eternity. so why..?

「But I'm the only one watching this 'world' right now.」 「Do you think it's better for this world to disappear?」

in the star stream, stories that no one read disappear. if kim dokja wasn't watching this 41st regression, it would disappear. is it right for a world where the tragedy was predetermined to never begin in the first place?

lee hakhyun starts to say that this is still a real world, and if the world is about to end, with more saddess than joy- kim dokja cuts him off, asking if it's better without it.

lee hakhyun can't answer. even if the end is a tragedy, the sadness and joy will still exist. someone would find their own happiness in the destruction.

but someone has died because of this story. jung jaewoo, jung moonho, lee hakhyun can't forget their faces.

「But someone might have lived because of this story.」

people have died due to this story, but others have survived.

like kim dokja. if this story was not created, he wouldn't have survived. there are many kinds of stories. is a sad story bad, and a happy story good? is a story of destruction meaningless? is this world, a tragedy from the start, better off not existing?

tragedy isn't just the star stream's story. even in a world without scenarios, people suffered, starved, killed each other. people still died. is this universe really different from the star stream?

we're all in ruin. life and death are just stories in between. lee hakhyun understands that, but he can't accept it. he's afraid of death, he doesn't like being sad, he's afraid of people disappearing, so he wants to run away. all stories end. unlike him, kim dokja has accepted this. happy or sad, this world was just a story. he read, and he's reading. for an unimaginable amount of years. is this still the kim dokja we know?

he asks. are you still the reader he knows. he doesn't know if he wants kim dokja to lie. to say he's still the protagonist of this story, that he'll solve this somehow. that they'll see the end of the scenarios together.

he responds, "if that's what you think."

he doesn't take that well :(. lhh is nauseous. kim dokja, clearly standing in the snowfield, looked blurry to him. he asks why he's here. why the readers came here.

kim dokja doesn't answer. for some reason or another, he can't answer. there's something wrong with this snowfield. here, it feels like a fairy tale. they conversed like it was a fairy tale. in metaphors, and symbols. this snow garden was a metaphor for 'between the lines'. nothing is written down, but everything is in between. this kim dokja isn't really him. he's the 'oldest dream', scattered throughout the universe. so he must be meeting lhh through expedient. and then he says the most cryptic bs god DAMN it kdj you're making this really hard for me

「We are the ones that make the story, but at the same time, the story writes us. The answer you want, you'll know when you complete your story.」 「What was the asnwer you found? You already read 'WOS'.」 「I read it, and I never finished it.」

all stories are already written and being written at the same time. lee hakhyun has his reponse, now.

kim dokja's question. if stories of destruction are meaningless. he doesn't know the answer yet. but he knows one thing. at least for this world, he'll prevent the destruction. he remembers the readers. dansu ahjussi, kyung sein, killer king and literaturegirl, ye hyunwoo, koo sunah, kim kyungsik.

he will see the end of this world. he remembers jung heewon, who lost her father, and yoo joonghyuk, who suffered a terrible regression.

even if this results in even more changes to this worldline, he will struggle to the end, somehow. maybe his choice will lead to a bigger tragedy for the universe. maybe people will blame him for this. and maybe they're right.

but he's not the 'oldest dream'. he can't dream about such a wide universe.

all lee hakhyun sees is the world in front of him. people who read his story, and are living his story. a little happiness before the ruin.

「Cheon Inho.」 Kim Dokja said. 「No, Hakhyun-ah.」 In spite of myself, I looked up. There was Kim Dokja. The Kim Dokja I knew. Someone who loves stories more than anyone else was talking to me. 「Whatever it may be, tell me a happy story this time.」

he leaves the snow garden. waking up, he notices some changes. the star stream has noticed his existence. ☐☐ is subject to probability restrictions now. some features have been locked until he's qualified.

his 'loss' has been recorded on the 'final wall'.

two so far.

the final wall acknowledges his contribution, and his exclusive skill evolves.

...he will get additional benefits the more 'loss' he collects.

and, his new story has been created.

[The story 'Recorder of Things That Will Disappear' has been born.]

the end of this universe has already been determined. nevertheless, this story has just begun, and lee hakhyun has sentences to write. so he will write.

after all, he still loves this story.

[emeritus-fuckers]

“Cirice” ♡ Terzo x afab!Reader oneshot (yandere)

Based loosely on the song "Cirice" by Ghost.

CW: gender neutral afab reader. reader and Terzo have a significant age gap. mentions of blood, death and murder. mention of rituals. mentions of sex and masturbation. yandere themes. religious themes. mentions of religious trauma. hints of abuse. manipulations. questionable consent. Terzo's kinda delusional in this. reader is sort of pressured into becoming his spouse and prime mover. depending on the reader, it might kinda make Terzo into mpreg. Primo's an accomplice, but he has good intentions. it's not as good as the first one, tbh.

i. i can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

i can see through the scars inside you

It was not uncommon for people to join the Clergy not because they were actual Satanists, but because they had no other choice. People chased away from homes, abandoned by their friends and families. People who were abused, who had to run away and had nowhere else to go. The Ministry loved the strays. Especially strays like you. Young and impressionable.

When he first saw you, he got curious. He knew you weren't enthusiastic about your new clothes, the uniform received as a Sibling of Sin. You seemed uncomfortable with it. Uncomfortable with your situation. But you also clinged to those who showed you kindness. You were seeking guidance, like a little puppy who would follow anyone in hopes they'd become its new owner.

He wasn't the one to accept you into the Clergy, Primo was. That alone could quite possibly be considered a sign. His oldest brother had a gift for bringing in poor, lost souls. Ones that had nowhere else to turn. Even if he seemed scary at first, he just had this caring aura that made people flock to him like baby ducks to their mother.

And it did seem like you were quite comfortable helping around the garden, even if you didn't do much. It was probably the only time of day you would smile. Terzo was a busy man since he became Papa Emeritus III, so he couldn't watch you all the time, no matter how much he would like to. But if there was one man he could trust with you, it was most definitely Primo.

Maybe it was a bit stupid to already claim you like this, to view you as something for him to observe. You were like a little trinket for him, something to watch and admire. Such a young person, you probably got out of high school just a few years ago, definitely not old enough to be out of university yet. Did you not go to university? You seemed really bright, you grasped everything Primo was teaching you very easily, why wouldn't you go?

He was curious. He wanted to know more about you, to know you. He started visiting the garden more often, listening in on conversations with the few Siblings of Sin you were friendly with despite your shy nature. He would ask the Siblings about you afterwards, making them swear to keep the conversation secret, one of his Ghouls lurking just in the corner of the Sibling's eye. He would ask Primo about you, genuine concern in his voice.

And Primo, believing his brother's good intentions, told him all he knew, even if it wasn't much. You didn't open up easily, and even if you did, you still spoke very little about yourself. All he got to know is that you were hurt and then shunned by your family "in the name of God". That you were on your own before Primo himself bumped into you while on a private errand outside the Ministry and offered you help, slowly becoming the only person you trusted enough to actually talk to about your issues, even if you only scratched them on the very basic level.

It infuriated him, knowing so little about you. But it also made him protective over you. After all, the Ministry may not be the terrible place others claim it to be, but there were still some bullies around, like in most environments. And you were so cute, so lovely, so innocent, you needed to be taken care of and protected. You needed someone. You needed him.

He kept an eye on you, even if he was away. He worked with many Ghouls, after all. Some of them went on tours with him, some stayed. And the ones who stayed had a mission. They were supposed to take care of you, to observe you while remaining just out of sight. After all, such a sweet, innocent person should never get hurt.

It broke his heart that someone has hurt you before. That some of the innocence and kindness you had was taken advantage off. Was that why you were so shy? Because someone hurt you? Oh, if only he was there to protect you back then...

Well, he was here now. Like a Guardian Angel. Or Guardian Demon, perhaps. That didn't matter. What mattered is that you needed him to be there for you. To love you. To protect you. To never let you get hurt again.

ii. now there is nothing between us

from now out merge is eternal

Whenever he would see you, he just further believed that you were made for him. A gift from the Dark Lord, no doubt. It was a shame that you had to be hurt to meet him, but such was fate. In the end, all that matters is the solution, isn't it?

Terzo never had difficulties when it came to wooing people, making them swoon. He was adorable as a little boy, he was charming as a young man and he was charismatic now, even in his fifties. Once he finally spoke to you, you were his.

It started slow, he didn't want to overwhelm you. He just joined in on a conversation between you and a fellow Sibling of Sin. You were talking about how uncomfortable the uniforms were in the summer and he joked that the Papal robes were even worse. He let the conversation flow naturally, trying his best to pay equal attention to both you and the other Sibling. He'd hate to make you think he was creepy.

No, no, he wanted to be approachable to you. He wanted to make himself a pleasant companion, a man you would trust with all your thoughts, secrets and feelings. He longed to be yours and wanted you to yearn to be his.

The other Sibling had to leave after a few minutes, which may or may not have had something to with a Ghoul glaring at then from the distance. You were clearly anxious to speak one-on-one with him. And he understood. He was still a stranger to you. But he broke the eyes, and despite your nervousness, you seemed to genuinely enjoy the conversation. You probably weren't even anxious at all, were you? No, you were definitely not anxious, you were too much of a sweetheart. You knew his position and probably wanted to hide your feelings for him, didn't you? You didn't want to get in trouble for having a crush on him.

When he first got to touch you, he felt good. Incredibly good. Even if he only touched your clothing and didn't feel much because of his glove. But he touched you. It was enough for him to fantasize in his bed at night, as he touched himself with your sweet face in his mind. Oh, he wanted you so badly. He wanted your hand around his cock instead of his own. He wanted your mouth on it, he wanted to see you gag on his length and hopelessly look at him, unsure of what to do to please him. He wanted to bury himself deep inside you, to comfort you as you adjusted to his size, to the slightly painful, yet wonderful stretching. He wanted you beside him, on top of him, underneath him, that doesn't matter. He just wanted you.

And as luck would have it, he got the opportunity to have you to himself. His father and Sister Imperator have been whining to him and Secondo about children to ensure the bloodline would continue. They insisted on a Prime Mover for months now. Terzo would usually ignore their nagging. He wanted to have a family one day, yes, but bringing a child to the Ministry didn't seem like a great idea. After all, even with all the effort Primo put, Terzo's childhood was far from perfect. So if he were to have a Prime Mover, he wanted someone he could marry and keep by his side. He wanted his future babies to have both parents.

And then he found you, the so sweet and innocent object of his obsession. You were so young, too. You could probably give him many children, couldn't you? Yes, yes, of course you could. And you'd look so good, so beautiful, so sweet with his children growing inside you. You'd be such a good parent to them, nursing them with all the love and affection you had.

And so the next time the subject of Prime Mover was brought up, instead of rolling his eyes and groaning in frustration, he gleefully explained that he already had a candidate in mind but that he wants to marry them as soon as the pregnancy is confirmed. Worried about the bloodline, Nihil agreed.

You only spoke a few times before, so when Terzo walked up to you in the garden later that same day, you didn't expect him to ask you to have his children as his Prime Mover. You thought he'd ask about your day, maybe have some small talk with you about the garden, but instead he dropped that onto you.

You tried your best not to freak out as you asked him to let you think about it. He agreed, of course and you ended up asking Primo for advice. Little did you know Terzo already spoke to him and almost begged his brother to help him convince you to say yes.

"It's just... I barely know him and... I don't understand why he'd want that..." You explained quietly as the oldest Emeritus brother poured you a cup of tea.

"I understand him very well, my child." Primo smiled softly at you, sitting next to you. You looked up at him, hoping he'd explain more. And explain more he did.

He told you about his life, how he never could count on his father's love and his mother was nowhere to be found. How he practically raised himself and then his brothers. He talked about how Terzo was as a child and how he confided in him that he hoped he'd have a baby someday so he can be a good dad, unlike their father.

He told you that behind his on-stage persona that he implemented to his life off stage, Terzo was lonely and depressed, only having his brothers and Ghouls to help him. And you felt bad for him, you really did. But as Primo explained, if you were just his Prime Mover, you'd have to leave him and the child. But after hearing everything he said, your soft, kind heart wanted to help. You asked if there was a way you could help, a way you could make his brother feel better.

It was Primo who suggested you marry his brother. And despite your hesitation, you decided to ask Terzo about it. To offer to bear his children if you got to stay in their lives. If you got to stay in his life. You didn't love him, at least not yet, but you knew how it felt to be hurt. And you wanted to help him. Which, to Terzo, was a love confession. After all, you wanted to marry him without him bringing it up to you.

And so a few days later, during a ritual, he got to have you. He got to touch you, he got to be inside you, to comfort you while muttering prayers to Lucifer. You were scared, vulnerable, but you were his. He finally got to lose himself inside you, to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He didn't care about people watching the ritual, he didn't care about the ritual itself. Only she sweet feeling of your walls squeezing him and your nails scratching his back as you clinged to him, seeking comfort in the bizarre situation you were in.

You were finally all his. Your body was his, your mind, your heart, your soul... Lucifer blessed him with you, he knew he Lucifer would bless him again, making you pregnant with his children. And he couldn't wait for that to be confirmed so you can be his on every way possible.

iii. can't you see that you're lost?

can't you see that you're lost without me?

Terzo was a good husband to you. Treated you like royalty, always happy to help you with your pregnancy or anything you may need assistance with.

He was a loving, caring husband, doing his best to always be there for you, kissing you and your growing stomach. He would always speak to your baby so fondly. His gaze and words were always so kind, so warm.

But he was also a jealous and possessive husband, even if you never really felt that yourself. He would handpick people allowed to visit you while you remained in bed (because he insisted you should rest while carrying his baby) and he would never leave you alone with them, always squeezing you hand protectively.

He was also a very dangerous, controlling husband, even if you never realized that. You were so young, so innocent, so naive... He needed to protect you, using all his power as Papa and his Ghouls to keep away the people he wanted away from you, either with a warning or a permission to his Ghouls to have fun hunting the miserable bastards who tried to get too close.

He was subtle, though. He would mutter to you as he rubbed your head and stomach at nights, with your sweet, innocent self half-asleep. He would remind you how much he loves you, how much he adores you. How hard he tried to keep you and your baby safe. How happy he was that you were his wife. And among all the praises and love confessions, he would whisper that if not for him, you'd be completely lost. He would slowly talk more and more about how he was the only to love and protect you. How you depended on him.

And by the time you had your baby, you believed him. You'd cling to him, your baby in your arms as he'd kiss your hair and coo at the child. He wanted another one as soon as you'd be willing to give him one. And you were very willing to give him a baby, completely enamoured by him.

Oh, how sweet and innocent you were... And all his.

You were all his.

[the-violet-galaxy]

How to "defeat Ruin", and prove to Ruin that he's wrong?

I'm still mourning the British Bean persona is gone but I guess I'll have to ADAPT AND OVERCOME hahaaasob

I'm thinking about Ruin, his attitude, and where things might go for him from here!  

Ruin is someone who believes the ends justify the means, and operates under a "for the greater good" mindset -- he's the kind of villain who takes a tangentially good cause (destroy the Creators), but is willing to cause unjustifiable amounts of collateral death to do it. And clearly, he has an ungodly ego.

And at this moment, by all accounts, Ruin has won! And he knows he's won. It's why he's so blasé talking to the others. If there is a genuine part of him that's sorry about the casualties (and at least, from the way he talks, I don't think he's lying about that,) it's far outweighed by his own self-assuredness that what he did was right. It doesn't matter to him whether he lives, dies, or is tortured now, because his work here is done.

"Everything is right in the universe now, in the dimensions."

So... What can be done about Ruin?

Ruin is still an active villain; just because he's surrendered doesn't mean he's been defeated. As long as Ruin believes he succeeded in what he was doing, he won't be truly defeated.

Ruin believes what he did was a success. That's the basis for his self-assurance. So you have to prove that he did not succeed. Killing him won't prove anything. Physically beating him or torturing him won't prove anything. (Heck, even if you made the small part of him that feels bad feel worse, it still won't prove anything.) He's perfectly willing to accept any of that!

So what can ACTUALLY knock Ruin down a peg?

I think... there need to be consequences that Ruin couldn't have possibly foreseen, which make his actions backfire in his face.

Right now, Ruin is 100% COMPLETELY sure of himself. In his mind, his plan went off without a hitch, it worked exactly as he intended, and he got exactly what he wanted. He's smug and satisfied because he KNOWS he succeeded in what he was trying to do. He won; everything that happens to him afterwards means nothing to him.

But if Ruin learns that his plan actually FAILED... (Perhaps the Creators he targeted aren't actually dead and his method to kill them only killed the DIMENSIONS around them, or the Council actually knew what Ruin was doing all this time and secretly did something to protect themselves that Ruin didn't know about, or him destroying so many dimensions is going to cause a shift that WILL actually kill all the dimensions he thought he was saving in his own sick way...)

Then Ruin will be completely thrown off his script; the smugness and self-assuredness will be wiped off his face when he realizes: he didn't get what he wanted, he was wrong, he caused "more harm than good", he FAILED. Ruin's talk of "my actions are a necessary evil but I made the world a better place in the end" would be flipped to something like "What? No... It wasn't supposed to happen this way, i-it was going to be so perfect, I was going to SAVE people in the long run, NO, THIS ISN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK!!!"

Once you rip that carpet out from under him, his tune will have to change. How will he react to being OBJECTIVELY WRONG?

However he reacts, that's his belief shattered. That's him losing.

Aaand then who knows where it could go from there. Maybe just MAYBE Ruin will want to help stop this new disaster he inadvertently caused (if anyone ever lets him move freely again.)

Whatever the case, that's how I think he could be thrown off his high horse! (I'm still a Ruin fan and even I wanted to punch his lights out every time he opened his mouth in this batch of episodes. Nothing phased him at all and he was calm for all of it, if slightly annoyed at being put in the ground. I wanna see him completely lose his composure and be rattled and distressed and shaken when his victory comes crashing down around him.)

And how this affects Solar's resurrection:

This is just far-off speculating. Because so much is up in the air right now, it's hard to theorize about Ruin's character development in the future, and it's pretty early for talks of "potential redemption arcs". But IF the story went in that direction, I think Ruin's plans going CATASTROPHICALLY WRONG would serve it well.

Right now, the thing to do is revive Solar. If Ruin's plan has NO unintended consequences, and the cast find some convenient loophole that brings Solar back at the end of this arc, then that would mean Ruin still comes out on top. He would still be assured his methods were right, and heck would you look at that, he was able to clean up the messy bits in the end after all, no muss, no fuss! He was just delayed in figuring out the magic equations that would protect the dimensions from dying, that's all!!

But if his plan backfires spectacularly and causes destruction that he could never have seen coming, then that means Ruin is thrown on his ass, his ego is crushed, and he gets to deal with the fact that he was a FOOL -- and he has to WORK to fix the disasters he's caused. If that happens and THEN Solar is revived, from methods Ruin couldn't have possibly thought of on his own, theeen boom: Ruin DID NOT win, because his methods were proven to be completely wrong to his his own face!

(If he lives that long of course. Eclipse might kill him. He might get killed when things go south instead of being alive to help. Who knows!)

(Honestly, it's just that there's a part of me that still loves Ruin and wishes he could be good. And from the small hints we've seen, there's a part of Ruin that even SOUNDS like he genuinely didn't want to hurt people, and maybe it would be possible to make him see the error of his ways. He even mumbles something about considering Solar and the others his friends in an offhanded way at one point. But whatever the case there's a long uphill road for the No Longer British Bean, Now British Asshole, wherever the show takes him.)

[raccoon-crown]

DREAM LAND AU: Zero (aka Infinite) - The Flames General

I know this one may seem out of place, but hear me out: Eggman has a different role in this AU (yeah, he is also here but in another arc) so Infinite was perfect to fill the last spot since his story in the Sonic Universe is not so far from Kit and Surge one.

Ejem... going back to his story.

Zero actually lived in a lost into forest town, one that may seemed out of all danger, reason why he was only trained as a hunter for surviving purposes.

But one night two sparks appeared in the sky without advice, or to be more specific two flying hedgehogs.

At this point Meta Sonic and Meta Shadow were still on bad therms, specially after Shadow corrupted this AU queen Sectonia, freeing himself from the Mirror of Dimensions. And that was just one of the many clashes they had before Kirby managed to reach him, but once again this is not the time to talk about it.

While Meta Sonic still followed a knight code Dark Meta Shadow couldn't think less of the collateral damage of his actions just like he did when almost destroying Floralia through Queen Sectonias actions. So in the middle of the battle, Zeros hometown got caught into flames when he returned from a hunt (his town was so secluded that Meta Sonic was unaware of it and also Dark Meta Shadow didn't give him a break to check if there was something else than trees burning).

Of course, the Chacal ran into town as soon as he saw the disaster and of course the flames were too much for him to bear...

So there was him, at the door of death with everything he once had burning to the ground when a Mystery figure came to him and took him out of the place.

He remembered a dusty flavor on his mouth almost before losing conscious.

By the time he finally woke up there was that figure again, but without all the smoke he could manage to see that the figure was nothing else than a Platypus in weird robes.

Let's pause this to clarify what was Hypnoss (aka Starline) doing on the site of the incident: The researcher left the Bastion when he heard the rumors of the fight between the two dark knights, convinced that their clash will result into at least another good candidate for his experiment.

And he was right, yeah by the time he got in the site the only living candidate around was the teen in front of him (he looked around Surge age but he wouldn't put the finger on it) who was likely a corpse the moment he used the stardust to save his life.

Returning to the story, Hypnoss calmly explained to him the events of that night, saying that one of the Black hedgehogs flame attack was the responsable for the whole ordeal and that he was passing through and tried to look for survivors like him.

"Is there anyone else who survived then??" Asked the young chacal with the heart on an edge.

When the platypus said there wasn't... ya can imagine how hard it was for him to hear.

"So, ya wanna do something about it?" asked Hypnoss "You can get strong enough to do so if you stay here, I can gave you more power of what you can think of"

The pain was so overwhelming that the idea of getting some revenge on the responsible one for the disaster took over Zero, who accepted without knowing that, since he actually consumed the stardust, he actually didn't had another option.

The hardest part was that he didn't seemed to fit between Frost and Surge, the guy was so stoick and full of rage that no one would think his power were the flames. So Hypnoss took the liberty of twist his memory a little there and then.

He already got plentiful of experience with the other two, that he managed to redirect the chacal protective instincts towards the other to siblings. As time passed, he became a kind of older brother for the other two, even if his relationship wasn't as deep as their, they were actually becoming a team.

It also helped that he erased his old family memories to redirect those feelings that barely remained between his rage.

That was the story of how Zero turned into Jambastion Flame General.

...

Also with three kids at his care, Hypnoss settled his stardust experiments, besides there was also some rumors around a legend with roots to his bastion that were proving to be intriguing enough for him to pause his search for a while. But that's also a story for another night...

[edhellfire]

2023 was quite the year.

One of my best.

Ups and downs as usual but in general it was great.

Not only did I do everything I intended to but I became a better person a long the way.

I was there for those who needed me. I was a good friend, a good sister, daughter, cousin.

I worked, I traveled, I let go of things that held me back and clung to things that made me better.

I learned to accept apologies and move forward. I learned my worth and to not stay silent.

I have my ADHD and anxiety under control. Health not so much but thats on the agenda for 2024.

I am so thankful for this year and the people that it brought me.

Shout outs below.

@havvkinsqueen You and I have known each other for years but I feel like this year we got closer than ever and you're one of the most important people I've met on here.

@chrissyfied This year brought you to me when I needed you and I am so thankful it did. You make my days better.

@iwillnotbow You don't need to hear this year because I feel like you've known me long enough to know just how much I appreciate you.

@untamedlobo my bro! We talked more this year than ever before and I hope we get closer in 2024.

@scarredfeathers you're such a breath of fresh air and I appreciate the energy you bring into my life.

@behindtheireyes never would I have guessed you and I would become this close but I'm here for it. I love our random talks and I'm falling in love with our muses.

@zoomingupthathill I'm so glad 2024 brought you back into my life.

@little-miss-losing-her-mind I miss you and wish you were around more. I hope life is treating you well.

@lunastar92 forever a bestie.

@qxeenofhawkinshigh I love you to death, you lil weirdo. Thanks for being the cutest hamster... and for spoiling me even though I panic every time you do.

@vionlet I'm glad you're back.

@vitaegratis we don't talk at all but I know the kind of person you are and we need more people like you. We are a weird version of soul mates. Its an Eddie thing.

@puppetoffthehook we don't talk enough but you need to know I adore you and your energy.

@depictedblue love me dammit.

I'm doing this mobile so hopefully I didn't forget anyone. I hope this list gets longer in 2024.

This fandom is scary but you guys make it so worth it to be here.

Lessons learned:

Sometimes what we want isn't what we need. We cling to things and people that really aren't good for us. Trust the universe. If you tried, and you spoke about your feelings, and people didn't understand, walk away. Know your worth. What some people don't value is what other people hold dear. Let the right people into your life and your life will be so much better.

Take risks. Even if it's scary. Risk taking took me to Denver and I had the time of my life and made new friends.

Be loyal. Some people not only deserve it but need it.

[realmythsmoved]

Persephone doesn't think of death the way most people do. Whenever her birth parents would talk about it, they'd always say that people "go to the stars", and Persy always imagined that as becoming one with the universe. She couldn't imagine a better fate.

She's scared of death, of course. Everyone is. But she's also looking forward to reuniting with her birth parents, wherever they may be. She doesn't see death as an end, but rather as a new beginning.

Nothing, in her view, ever ends. It just takes on new forms, etc. Persy doesn't believe that one's soul, one's inner sense of being, can ever be destroyed by anything other than that which made it. And personally her view of God (though she's more spiritual than religious) is a benevolent Creator who would not spend much time punishing Their Creations.

Persephone is a big believer in redemption. Though in her view, redemption does not always equal forgiveness. She would never forgive her first two foster parents, for example. But does she believe they can improve and beccome better people IF they want to? Absolutely! Does she think they deserve to be shunned from society and hated forever? No!

Persephone doesn't really hate anyone. She doesn't believe in it. Not for others, but for herself. She doesn't like the way hating someone makes her feel. So she tries her best not to do it. The only people she could say she hates are her first two foster parents, which is 100% valid. They did mistreat and abuse her. So she is well within her right to hate them. But even with them, she tries not to focus on her dislike of them too much, as she still doesn't like how it makes her feel. She much prefers to focus on the positive, on all the love she now has in her life.

She doesn't believe in pushing her beliefs on others. But she does believe that everyone should try to accept other people for who they are, and that most of the problems in the world would be solved if more people could be kind and open-minded. She doesn't think she has all the answers, either. But she does have the right questions, at least in her opinion. And she's willing to listen and learn, always. Though she can be biased in favor of her own views, if she is presented with new information that challenges her view, she will take it in and do what she can to process it and make it part of her worldview.

She does know that there is darkness in the world, of course she does. But she still has a lot of faith, an inherent belief in the goodness of most of humanity. She has a lot of hope, that even those who are bad can be redeemed somehow. And she always tries to act with love, whenever she makes a decision.

Though she does not believe in any religion necessarily she does believe that there is a force behind the creation of the universe. She does believe that that force is good. That that force believes in those virtues that she exemplifies. (Faith, hope, and love). She will never give up on what she believes. And that is her true strength, as a character, I think.

No matter what she goes through, how the world tries to knock her down, she will never falter. Her conscience will always be clear as long as she acts in alignment with her values. And she always tries her best to do just that. Her confidence can be shaken, but never broken. And she will always be exactly who she is. She just can't help it. She is a softer kind of strength, but no less valid, I think.