#i rarely dream of orpheus

[pulledrounder]

Mountain Dreams, At the Cemetery // Fiddlehead, USMA // Otto Hesselbom, Christmas Eve at the Grave // Laura Gilpin, I Rarely Dream of Orpheus // Sergej Andrijaka, New Year’s Night 1984 // Big World, Christmas Eve

#web weaving #parallels #fiddlehead #mountain dreams #at the cemetery #laura gilpin #i rarely dream of orpheus #the hocus pocus of the universe #otto hesselbom #christmas eve at the grave #big world #sergej andrijaka #new year's night 1984 #sorry if it's cringefail of me to include my own song on here lol #but i found the otto hesselbom painting like a day or two after i wrote and it felt like someone hit me in the stomach #webweaving

[gravity-rainbow]

Following the silence

Laura Gilpin

#laura gilpin #following the silence #i rarely dream of orpheus

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Amidst the Chaos

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:  Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, references to torture, other canon-typical topics

Word Count:  3827

Author’s Note: not necessarily my best fic, but i’ve been working on it for over a year so... here it is

Orpheus - Sara Bareilles

AO3 Link

“Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. Though I know it's blinding, there's a way out.” ~ Sara Bareilles, Orpheus

~

“Guys, I want you to meet our newest team member,” Hotch said to the BAU as they settled around the table. “This is Agent (Y/N) (L/N).”

You gave a shy wave to the group in front of you, but your smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “Hi.”

“She’s coming to us from Organized Crime. I trust that you’ll all welcome her to the team.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to be given a chance to work with all of you. It’s been my dream to work at the BAU for years.”

“We’ll have time to get to know Agent (L/N) better on the plane. But for now, we have a case,” Hotch said. “JJ?”

~

“So,” Derek said, taking a seat next to you on the jet. “What was Organized Crime like?”

“Honestly? Boring as all hell. It was mostly stopping money laundering and drug cartels,” you said. “Not as glamorous as Goodfellas makes it seem. Besides, the BAU was always my end goal anyway.”

He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I get that. We’re glad to have you on our team. ” The conversation between you and Morgan flowed easily and before you knew it, you had become like brother and sister. The rest of the team grew to love you too. Well, most of the team. 

Spencer seemed icy and cold toward you, and no one could offer a valid explanation. By all accounts, you should have gotten along. You loved Halloween just as much as Spencer did and you always had at least 3 books on your person at a time. You had a borderline unhealthy addiction to caffeine and sugar and spent more time in the office than your apartment. But for some reason, you and Spencer just seemed to constantly be at each other’s throats. 

In your defense, Reid had started it. 

For whatever reason, Reid disliked you right out the gate. He tried to be civil toward you, but something about you just bothered him. 

He originally just tried to avoid you when he could, but with the nature of the team’s dynamic, that didn’t work out well. 

Spencer found himself doing small, petty things to annoy you, like putting your favorite mug on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach it or borrowing your pens and “forgetting” to return them. Something about seeing you mildly inconvenienced and annoyed as opposed to your normally happy and bubbly self made him feel better. He knew it was fucked up of him. 

Eventually, the animosity became mutual. You and Spencer were rarely paired together on cases because Hotch couldn’t stand the constant arguing between the two of you. Mostly, Hotch tended to pair you with Derek who you began to see as a brother. 

Spencer would never admit it, but seeing you and Derek be as close as you were stirred some kind of jealousy in him. He figured it was just because he had been friends with Morgan first, that was all. 

~

Local cases were always extra stressful on the team. Something about unsubs being so close to home made the cases more personal. As such, tensions were running high and no one had slept in over 24 hours as the team worked to nail down a profile. 

“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered as you looked over the crime scene photos. “The crime profiles as disorganized but the victimology and timeline profile him as organized.” 

“How you doing there, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked, setting down a carrier of coffee cups. 

You sighed and picked up the cup with your name scrawled on it. “There’s discrepancies in our preliminary profile and I can’t…”

“Did you try comparing notes with Reid?”

“Derek, I love you, but are you insane?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N).”

“So am I. Any time I try to have any kind of civilized conversation with that man he turns it into an argument.”

Thankfully, Hotch came into the room at that point, stopping the conversation. “We have two potential leads. Morgan, you’re going with Blake to the first address. (L/N), you and Reid are going to the second.” Hotch tossed you both keys for SUVs. “Reid and Blake have the files. They’ll fill you in on the drive.”

“Yes, sir.” You grabbed your coffee from the table, along with Reid’s, and headed out to the car. When you got to the parking lot, Reid was already leaning against the car, flipping through a file folder. “Reid. Here.”

As you handed him the coffee, he said, “What, was everyone else busy?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just following Hotch’s orders.” You unlocked the car and climbed in. “Where are we going?”

“21 Rock Creek Road, Somerset. We’re interviewing Linda Walsh, the neighbor of our first victim, Savanna Curtis.”

“Great. Can you type it into the GPS?”

“Why? I can just give you the directions.”

“Because the GPS is more accurate.”

“(L/N), I have an eidetic memor-”

“Eidetic memory, I know. But you’re telling me your memory can predict traffic patterns? I don’t think so. Just use the damn GPS.”

“Fine.” Spencer typed the address in, muttering under his breath.

“Thank you. What information do we have on Walsh?”

“72 years old, she was reportedly in the house when Curtis was attacked and taken to the secondary location. Hotch wants us to interview her and see if she noticed anything that might help us with the profile.”

Soon enough, the two of you pulled up to the witness’s house. Before even getting out of the car, you felt like something was wrong. 

”Wait, Reid.” You grabbed his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the windows. All of them are dark. Not even a television glow. Something’s off.”

“I hate to say it, but you’re right.” 

You hopped out of the car and pulled your gun from your side, following Reid up the path to the house. He knocked on the front door. 

“I don’t hear anything from inside.” He knocked again. “Go around the back, see if you can get in that way.”

You nodded and walked around the house. You could hear Reid continuing to knock as you went around. As you rounded the corner, a sharp pain entered your shoulder. You yelled and turned around, but not before a blunt object hit you in the temple and your vision faded.

~

Spencer was panicking. You were missing, and it was his fault. He was pacing in the front yard of Walsh’s home while the team and the local authorities worked to catch up. 

“Reid, what happened?” Hotch asked. “We need everything.”

Spencer relayed every detail from the moment the two of you pulled up to the house, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have told her to go off on her own, it’s my fault-”

“Kid, breathe,” Morgan told him. “You didn’t know this would happen. What’s important now is finding her and bringing her home safe.”

The team did a thorough inspection on Mrs. Walsh’s home and learned a good deal. Mrs. Walsh wasn’t home, as was reported. However, her son, Devin, was clearly staying with her. It didn’t take the team long to figure out he was the unsub. 

~

When you awoke, you were in a secondary location. Your head was throbbing behind your eyes and your shoulder was in agony. Your arms were tied behind your back, but that was the only restraint to your mobility. You looked around, trying to figure out where you were. It was a large, open space, you guessed a warehouse, probably abandoned. It was dark, except for the glow of the streetlights outside and an industrial lamp in the center of the room. You didn’t have much time to assess your surroundings, though, because Walsh was waiting for you to wake up.

You knew the facts of the case. You saw the photos. He kept the women for 24 hours, torturing them until their bodies were barely recognizable. Then, he’d kill and dump them.

But you also knew your team. They were relentless. And they would save you.

~

“We’ve seen what he does to his victims. We’re in a race against the clock here,” Morgan argued with Hotch.

“But we still have to keep our heads and follow the law. If we don’t get a warrant, any evidence we do find goes right out the window.”

“Guys, Garcia found something,” JJ said. She put her phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“So, Walsh’s dear old dad was the owner of a warehouse in the 80s. The warehouse is still in his name but has since been abandoned. And before you even ask, yes, I sent you the address.”

~

The SUVs pulled up to the warehouse and the team jumped out. The plan was to enter the building slow and quiet, but that changed when they heard you scream, followed by a gunshot. Then, everything went silent. Completely silent.

Everyone rushed into the building. The team was terrified of what they were about to find. What they saw, no one could have expected. 

You were lying unconscious on the floor, in a pool of blood. Also on the floor, with a bullet hole through his forehead, was Devin Walsh. Standing with a gun in her hands was 72 year old Linda Walsh, tears running down her face. 

“I had to,” she said, looking at Hotch. “He was gonna kill her.”

“We need a medic!”

~

The team was sitting around your hospital bed. The doctor had said you probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but they were determined to have someone there with you when you did. 

“We should take shifts,” JJ suggested. “That way there’s always someone here and the rest of us can get some rest, too.”

“That’s a good idea. Dave and I can take the first shift,” Hotch said. “We’ll do four-hour rotations in pairs.”

They talked through who would pair up and take what rotations before Rossi shooed the rest of the team out.

Eventually, Reid and Morgan were on their “shift.” Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring at the same page of a book. 

“You ever gonna flip that page?”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?”

“Kid, you heard the doctor. She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t? It would be my fault. I’m the one who made her go off by herself. We were supposed to be a team and I couldn’t see past-” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Morgan put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, Reid. I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Want one?”

“Sure.” After Morgan left, Spencer looked at you and sighed. Your body was wrapped in casts and bandages. “Hey, (L/N),” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on top of yours.

~

One thing you didn’t expect about being in a medically induced coma was to still hear everything going on around you. You could hear the doctors and nurses moving about your room. You could hear your teammates. You heard Hotch and Rossi talking about the paperwork they’d have to file on the case because an agent had been seriously injured. You heard the music Penelope insisted on playing, and you heard Spencer. 

“Hey, (L/N),” you heard him say. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for this. I mean, obviously for this. I never should have split us up, I never should have sent you around the back of the house, I never should have-” he stopped himself. You could hear the tightness in his voice. Was he crying? No, Reid wouldn’t be crying over you. Would he? But he continued. “I was awful to you. I mean, I was an asshole,” he said with a dry laugh. “There’s no other word for it. I was an asshole to you and there was no excuse. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-”

~

“One cup of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Derek said, coming back into the room. 

“Thanks.” Reid took the cup in both his hands, grateful for a distraction from his guilt. 

“Any change?”

He shook his head. “None.”

Derek sighed. “You know, part of me was really hoping she’d wake up in the five minutes I was gone.” He gripped your hand that wasn’t casted up. “We miss you, Pretty Girl.”

~

Your coma lasted for about 3 weeks. The doctors kept you in the hospital for observation for another full week before finally letting you go home.

During your recovery, your apartment was practically a revolving door. Just about the entire team came by to check on you and keep you company, with the exception of Spencer. You couldn’t say you were too surprised. However, something about it upset you. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi took the time to stop by and check on you. 

Derek and Penelope were probably your most frequent visitors. You were honestly grateful for their visits, and for the help it brought. With your injuries, simple day-to-day tasks were more difficult for you, and Penelope and Derek were more than happy to help you out. Derek took your grocery list and all your other errands while Penelope helped around your apartment. You were even more grateful when they forced you to attend a dinner party at Rossi’s. Penelope was at your apartment, helping you pick out a dress for the event.

“I don’t know, Pen.”

“(Y/N), I’m telling you, purple is your color.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want my dress to match my bruises.”

Penelope just rolled her eyes and tossed the dress on your bed. “Do you really think I’d pick out a dress that didn’t make you look good? Let’s go, you haven’t had a proper shower in a week.”

Penelope helped you get ready for the dinner party before getting ready herself. She helped adjust the strap of your brace when your doorbell buzzed. 

“That’ll be Derek,” you said. Penelope answered the door to Derek standing outside, leaning against your doorframe. 

“Well, look at these pretty ladies. You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I need to get out of this house,” you said. “I haven’t seen anything but these walls in weeks.”

When you pulled into Rossi’s driveway, you were more than excited to see the team. The team, in turn, was excited to see you. You were smiling and laughing, more and more of your normal self. 

When Spencer saw you walk through Rossi’s front door on your crutches, a lump formed in his throat. Ever since seeing you in the hospital, he’d been wracked with guilt. It was the main reason why he hadn’t visited you like everyone else. He tried to avoid you the whole night. Thankfully, you were so happy to be with the others that you didn’t seem to notice. But Blake did. 

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” she asked Spencer, handing him a drink. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re avoiding everyone tonight. Why?” When Spencer stayed silent, Blake followed his line of sight. He was watching you talking with JJ. “Ah. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“I can’t, Alex. Believe me, I’ve tried. For months. Any time I try and have just a normal goddamn conversation with her, what comes out is sarcastic and cruel. I-I don’t know why it happens.” He ran his hands over his face and groaned. 

“You’re in love with her.” Blake wasn’t saying it as a question. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she said, “Don’t worry, it’ll stay with me.”

~

The heavy sheets of rain outside pounded against the apartment windows. It was the kind of cold rain that seeped into your bones, despite a warm home. It was late, but Spencer was still awake, reading. He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. He heard a knock on his door. Spencer set his book down on his coffee table before walking to his door. He glanced out the peephole and took a step back in shock. Spencer opened the door to see you standing there, soaked and visibly shivering, in only your pajamas. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were sniffling. 

“(L/N)? What are you-”

“I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want me here and I don’t even know how I ended up here, I just started walking and-”

“Wait, wait, you walked here? In the torrential downpour?” When you nodded, Spencer opened his door wider. “Here, come in. You must be freezing. What happened?”

You stepped through his door and began to ramble, “I don’t know. I woke up from a nightmare and I knew I-I couldn’t stay in my apartment alone so I just started walking and somehow I ended up here and I’m sorry.” Your teeth were chattering as you continued to shiver. 

Spencer grabbed a blanket off the back of his couch and draped it around you. “No, no, it’s, um-” Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve found that sometimes just saying it out loud helps.”

Once you nodded, Spencer held his hand out and led you over to his couch. You were silent for a few moments, staring out the window at the rain streaming down. 

“I was back… there,” you said when you finally started talking. “In the dark. I-I couldn’t see anything but I knew he was there. Then I felt his hands on my throat and-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Your whole body was shivering, but Spencer didn’t think it was from the cold anymore. 

Spencer moved to put his arm around you but stopped, dropping his arm back to his side. “I know how you feel,” he said. “After Hankle, I couldn’t handle looking at the crime scene photos because I knew what the victims were thinking right… you know… right before.”

“Do they ever stop? The nightmares?”

“I don’t know. Mine haven’t.” When he saw the defeat on your face, he added, “But it does get easier.”

You nodded, still staring out at the pouring rain. You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, I’ll, um, I’ll call a taxi and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t- uh, you can stay, um, if-if you want,” Spencer said. 

“Reid, I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be!” Spencer assured you. “I could use the company, actually. I’ve been trying to find someone to watch Stardust with me. Penelope says I need to watch more pop culture and I know you’re a fan of Neil Gaiman.” He gave you a soft smile. “Please, (Y/N), stay. I promise, you’re not imposing.”

When he saw your face crack into a small smile, he felt a swarm of butterflies rise in his stomach. “Okay,” you said. 

About halfway through the movie, Spencer felt you slump against his shoulder. Before he knew it, you were fast asleep. He was frozen there, not wanting to disturb you. He knew how rough the past few months had been, and it was obvious to everyone you weren’t sleeping. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was more, but Spencer felt like it was now his responsibility to take care of you, if you would let him.

~

The whole team noticed the shift between you and Reid. Where you would previously stay as far from each other as possible, you were now actively seeking each other out. You chose to sit next to each other in the briefing room and on the jet, something you had never done before. On the trips back from cases, you would rest your head on Reid’s shoulder and sleep while he read a book. But, no one said anything about any of it. No one wanted to burst whatever weird bubble was surrounding the BAU team. 

That was, until Blake, Derek, and JJ spotted you knocking on Spencer’s motel door one night during a case. The two were sitting up in the lounge going over the case files yet again when they spotted you, in your pajamas, sneaking out of your own room. 

After watching you slip into Spencer’s room, JJ said, “You don’t think they’re…”

“Reid and (L/N)? No, there’s no way. They can’t stand each other.”

“Well, they do say there’s a thin line between love and hate,” Alex noted, turning the page in her book. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I need to know what’s going on,” Derek said, getting up from the couch. 

“I’m coming with you!”

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex warned. “Just talk to them about it in the morning.”

“Do you know something, Alex?” JJ asked. 

“Even if I did know something, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”

~

The next morning, you felt eyes on you as you drank your coffee. You looked up from the case file to see Derek staring at you. 

“What?”

“Were you going to tell me about you and Reid or…”

“What are you talking about? Me and Reid?”

“(Y/N), come on. You two are practically attached at the hip when just two weeks ago you couldn’t fucking stand each other.”

You shrugged. “We worked out our differences, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Alright, what about you sneaking off to his room last night?”

Your face paled. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Care to explain then?”

You sighed, looking around to make sure it was just you and Morgan. “You know I haven’t been sleeping since, well, everything.” Derek nodded. “Well, a few nights ago I ended up at Reid’s apartment in a panic. It was pouring out so he let me just stay and I slept better than I had in years. And, you know, he’s not too bad to hang out with either,” your face flushed with your last statement. 

“You’re not too bad to hang out with either.”

You jumped, turning around to see Spencer in the doorway with cups of (good) coffee in his arms.

“Spencer, when did-”

He handed you a frappuccino. “Just now. I take it you weren’t as sneaky as you thought?”

“Shut up,” you whined, nudging him with your arm as you stuck a straw in your drink. Spencer just laughed and took a seat next to you.

“So, you’re just, like, friends now?”

You and Spencer looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without speaking.

“I mean, I’d say we’re a bit more than just friends,” you admitted, smiling at Spencer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“Damn, I owe JJ 10 bucks,” Derek muttered before saying, “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you realized you were perfect for each other.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #em's fics

[linddzz]

Here an assortment of Facts About Morpheus in the Red Flags AU. Where I'm starting to lean more towards the version where they meet and are already into each other before the ""Fake Date"" Incident:

-Jessamy is the raven he took care of when he found her injured outside of his townhome. He now has a room with a window he often keeps open for her to fly into whenever she feels like it. I don't know how legal any of this is in London but tbh it doesn't matter because he also does not know what the laws are and doesn't care.

- His townhome is very dark maximalist in decor, which tends to surprise people at first. There are houseplants and little statues all over, and the walls are hidden behind millions of bookshelves. There is an art studio room and books scattered everywhere. Very recently, hypothetical visitors would notice a lot of child locks and child proofed areas that have a bit of a panicked "I bought every safety thing in the store bc I have no idea wtf I'm doing" energy to them.

- He has a therapist. Yes, the Morpheus that Hob meets is the upgraded version who is actually working on himself already. This is what the improved personal growth version of Morpheus is like.

Anyway, said therapist is Gilbert F. Greene. Because Morpheus going head to head with an unstoppable force of old timey adorable optimism who will also not take his shit is delightful. Dr. Greene insists on going by first names and Morpheus always makes "Gilbert" sound like a slur in retaliation. Some conversations I imagine include:

"Good morning Gilbert, you will never guess who had what you might call a """relapse into self destructive behaviors"""" last night."

"I am very sorry to hear that my dear boy. Let me say though, that I am so very proud of you for calling me! That is a phenomenal step for you and it's wonderful that you are being proactive in your recovery."

"Don't patronize me Gilbert. I will hang up."

(this ended up being super long so I'm just gonna spare y'all's dash. Warning for some lightly touched on mentions of drug use and self destructive behavior.)

- Him getting a therapist was part of the requirements for gaining visitation rights and then weekend custody once a month with Orpheus. The therapy is actually helping, and he's bitter about that.

- His given name is actually Dream, he goes by his middle name. All the Endless siblings have awful names. Desire goes by Adonai because who calls a fucking child Desire???

When Hob meets the rest of the family, Destiny goes "it's good to see you again, Dream" and Hob begins turning to Morpheus like "lmao who tf is named Dream" only to find Morpheus glaring daggers at his brother.

- The Endless parents are rarely around. Some of the siblings still live in the manor and they all use it for family dinners, but it's common for their parents to be off travelling for years at a time.

- Morpheus is an author and a painter who has a bajillion pen names to go with each genre he writes in, so it's hard to figure out exactly how much he's written. Even before becoming a father though, his face and full name is mostly associated with children's fantasy stories that he illustrates himself, and his Art vs Artist vibe is very Miyazaki.

Him and Calliope collaborated on a series of illustrated poetic translations of ancient epics. Their divorce was exactly as messy as one might imagine the divorce between two passionate artist types might be.

- His downward spiral of self destruction started before the divorce but oh boy did it nosedive during and after.

- When she got pregnant after divorce proceedings had started, there was a moment where they were both meeting with lawyers and one asked something along the lines of if this meant they would try for reconciliation and staying together. Calliope said "no" immediately.

It's not like Morpheus exactly thought they would get back together, but the speed and firmness of that hard "no" had his head screaming with white noise and some badly thought out self medication for months, which ended up being why Calliope got full custody and he is just now able to get more involved with the now two year old Orpheus.

- His rebound with Thessaly was also messy. She was just in it for a fun fling and he was... Morpheus. He found out he got dumped when she informed him she was already in the process of moving back to Greece, and Johanna said he needed to be banned from any more beautiful Greek expats from that day forth.

- No one can figure out what the deal is with him and Lucienne. The simple explanation is they're queerplatonic soul mates. Lucienne's wife Gault thinks they're a bit codependent (not an inaccurate assessment), but is more civil with him since the day she yelled at him to go get an actual therapist instead of constantly putting his shit on Lucienne, and he actually did. (It is unclear if this or Calliope demanding therapy for him to get visitation with Orpheus was his wake up call catalyst, but probably a bit of both.)

- Lucienne was originally a personal assistant. She now works as his editor since she seems to be the only person who can keep track of all the shit he's written. She is also the only person who can get away with critiquing his works in progress without sending him into a fit where he might burn all his manuscripts.

- When Morpheus started mentioning this Gadling guy a lot, Lucienne paid a visit to the pub. Not to do anything so crude as to threaten a man's life if he breaks her sensitive friend's heart. What could she do anyway? No no. She's just here to smile with zero trace of humor and ask some questions while looking him up and down through her spectacles. Hob will later describe this as one of the most pants shitting moments of his life, and he felt like he got transformed back into a primary school kid who talked slightly too loudly in the library.

- Morpheus went through a slutty phase during and shortly after University that was less of a healthy and fun exploration of his sexuality and libido, and a bit more "I will take anyone who will have me in any way they will want me and I know that if nothing else, I'm pretty."

- Him and Johanna used to have a game seeing who could get more free drinks in one night. This had to be put to an end when it turned into the catalyst for at least three screaming fights between them.

Fight subjects were

Quality vs Quantity. Morpheus insists his ability to get people to buy him a single glass of wine that costs £50 beats Johanna's cheap beers. Johanna disagreed. loudly.

Is it cheating when Morpheus ran to the bathroom to smudge on some eyeliner and then stole Johanna's lip gloss? Is it further cheating when Johanna realized that his main method of getting drinks was "act like Adonai"? Accusations that he would ever act like his horrid annoying younger sibling sent Morpheus into an absolute tantrum.

Competitiveness DID overcome sibling rivalry enough for Morpheus to go to Adonai for makeover assistance. This backfired because it made Morpheus hot to the point of intimidating, and Johanna won that night.

- After Hob starts flirting with him, Morpheus goes suspiciously into a Romantic, Pre-Raphaelite inspired art era featuring lots of noble knights with dark sunlit hair. A lot of them seem to be lured in by dark haired fae entities all La Belle Sans Merci style. It's disgustingly obvious.

-Therapy has made him juuuuust self aware enough to know that he MAYBE tends to go a bit hard and fast with romance. This makes him a little more cautious with Hob than he usually would be, and he's doing a bit of "Hob is so nice and sweet and interested but I'm gonna mess it up :(((" pining. Everyone around him is fucking sick of it. He is not self aware enough to realize he's still going super hard and fast, but this time he's doing it while sighing sadly and drawing Hob in his sketchbook all the fucking time.

#red flags au #human au #Dreamling #gonna make my pinned masterpost to organize shit later today djdjdksk

[paarthursass]

Reversing Ceremorphosis

There is an interesting debate to be had about whether mind flayers experiencing extreme partialism (the Emperor, Tav/Orpheus/Karlach depending on the ending) are truly the same person they were before ceremorphosis. According to 5e's lore, when a person undergoes full ceremorphosis they die and the tadpole takes full control. They normally experience none of the host's memories except in rare cases, where a phenomena known as "partialism" occurs.

Even in a non-magical setting "is something that experiences all your memories the same person as you" would be a tricky question, and in a setting where there are indisputably souls that depart the body upon death...that question becomes even stickier.

And that all brings me to my main point, which is: what is the best way to reverse ceremorphosis?

So we have two options in front of us:

Option 1) Though the tadpole may retain all the memories of its host, it is not them. The host (Balduran, Tav, Karlach, etc.) dies during ceremorphosis and what is left is a mind flayer tadpole experiencing their memories as their own. But their soul is gone, they are dead.

Option 2) The tadpole is experiencing the host's memories indistinguishably from its own. For all intents and purposes, it is the same person.

The game itself does not give us clear answers to this. Ansur speaks to the Emperor as if he were Balduran. Gale wishes to still marry you after ceremorphosis, indicating he at least still views you as the same person. The other characters don't seem to be of this viewpoint. The look Lae'zel gives you before she flies away with Orpheus is such a sad look that it reads, to me, like she views you as dead. Everyone talks at length about your "sacrifice," and it is clear they mean more than just your appearance. A romanced Wyll speaks about your future together like it is a lost dream, like you are already dead even though you're right there. There is no clear answer.

Which brings me to my second question...

What is the best way to reverse ceremorphosis?

Because the way I see it, there are two main options (not including Wish, which I will get to in a bit)

Option 1) True Polymorph. An illithid (or someone else of appropriate skill level) could cast this on them and polymorph them back to their original form. After an hour the effects are permanent, and they're not a mind flayer anymore! However, how "valid" this cure is depends on whether or not you consider the tadpole with the host's memories to basically be the host. Their soul has gone from their body, but they are not a mind flayer anymore and they have all their memories so...what are they? Are they Them, or are they something new?

Option 2) True Resurrection. This requires no body, nor any fragment of the body, and can be used so long as the target hasn't been dead for longer than 200 years. Especially considering Gale was able to get his hands on one scroll of True Resurrection, it doesn't seem all that unlikely (if perhaps a little difficult) that he and the others could get their hands on another.

But an illithid restored via True Resurrection would only have their memories right up until ceremorphosis killed them. They would have no recollection of defeating the Netherbrain and everything that came after (such as traversing Avernus, if they decided to go with Wyll and Karlach.)

And, more importantly (and horrifically) the mind flayer with their memories is still there, too.

Think about that for a moment. You remember dying, you remember the agony of your body becoming something else but then your friends brought you back from that, they saved you. But that thing is still there; walking around in what used to be your body, with your memories rattling around in its head.

And how does that feel for the mind flayer left behind?

You still think you are you, but then...there you are. Your friends wanted you back so badly but not you, no the other you, the you were before, the you they clearly think is the real one. You are not yourself, in spite of everything you have shared, everything you have done...

And as for the Wish spell, that is a notoriously finicky option. The spell description itself states "wishing that a villain were dead might propel you forward in time to a period when that villain is no longer alive" and "wishing for a legendary magic item or artifact might instantly transport you to the presence of the item's current owner."

So...who is to say that using Wish to restore someone from ceremorphosis would not simply bring the person back, the second before they transformed, with the mind flayer still there as well? Who is to say Wish would not simply do what a True Polymorph spell would do, and transform the mind flayer into their previous form without restoring the soul of the original owner?

I don't have any good answers for this, but I am fascinated by the implications of it all.

#sophie.txt #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 emperor #bg3 orpheus #karlach #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #it's very nick valentine in fallout 4 tbh... #tho nick clearly views himself as separate from the original nick valentine #but THIS....bro where do u even START #bg3 meta

[animefans-stuff]

Dating Hypnos would include

- Seeing as you guys seem to like the one about Ares. I wanted to try writing one for Hypnos.

Fandom; Hades / Greek mythology

Warnings; my terrible english, grammar mistakes, sleeping issues are mentioned once, Morpheus (NOT the Sandman version.) Is briefly mentioned along with Phobetor (personification of nightmares) and Phantasos (personification of inanimate objects), Nyx, Erebus and Thanatos are also briefly involved.

I know only so much about Greek mythology and google can only give me so many answers, so don't correct me. I'm writing this purely for fun, not to be corrected.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Other then that please enjoy :)

Hypnos as a partner would honestly be interesting.

If you struggle with any sort of sleeping issues. He'll gladly help you. As those type of issues are right up his lane!

So don't try lying to him. If he notices or is informed that you've been skipping out on your usually sleeping schedule. He'll merely chuckled and sent you into a deep slumber. With only the best dream's, thanks to his son Morpheus.

Speaking of Morpheus, he's most likely the first to figure out your relationship with his father. As he's noticed you've been dreaming of him (Hypnos). A lot.

He doesn't worry too much about it. As you don't seem aggressive or have aggressive intentions towards his father. But, as time goes on. He grows curious, and eventually asks Hypnos what the relationship between the two of you is.

Hypnos happily replied, saying that the two of you were together. With this new information, he quickly informs his brothers.

Phobetor doesn't exactly have much to say on your relationship with their father. They aren't upset nor are they too happy. As for Phantasos who also seems a bit more relaxed upon the news with their father and you getting together.

Thanatos is the next to find out, through the talk of mortals. And, he's genuinely happy for his brother. Following that, Nyx and Erebus, are surprisingly the last to find out. Them- being pretty good parents, unlike some. Each showed their satisfaction in their own ways.

Hypnos is said to be located in the underworld, were not a lot of mortals can enter and leave as they please, (with the few exeptions of warrior's like; Heracles, Orpheus, etc) so, with that being said. He often visits you during your dreams.

Or he'll wait until it's night to visit you. As he isn't too fond of the sunlight.

Whenever he does visit you, he'll shape-shift (so other mortals don't notice him). Into a form more comfortable for him. And recognizable enough for you, to know it's him and not some random mortal.

He'll also bring you the best pillows and blankets, made out of the softest cotton and wool. With the occasional poppy tucked inside.

Hypnos loves when you run your hands through the wing(s) located on the side of his head.

Speaking of the wing(s) on his head. The part that connects right above his ears can be very sensitive. So, please be careful not to pull or scratch too hard.

Although. It can be rare, Hypnos does get jealous of the occasional mortal or even other god/goddess trying to court you. And, when he is jealous, he becomes rather scary.

He'll simply puts them into a deep sleep, for at least an eternity or so. With the most horrific nightmare's known to both mortal and god.

And if they're lucky. They might just wake up.

#hypnos x reader #greek gods x you #greek mythology x reader #god of sleep #hades hypnos #greek myth

[ep-the-penguin]

[Child of the Endless]

 └─── Headcanons──➤

[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)

Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?

Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...

I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!

╔═ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ════════════╗

What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]

╚════════════ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ═╝

⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.

⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.

⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.

⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.

⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).

⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).

⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.

⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.

⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.

⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.

⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he didn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.

⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did

⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.

⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.

⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.

⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.

⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.

⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.

⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.

⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing left of him…

───────────

Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.

But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!

Until next time my dear readers!

#the sandman #sandman headcanons #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman x y/n #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x y/n #dream x fem!reader #dark!morpheus #yandere themes #platonic yandere #reader insert #child!reader #teen!reader #yandere #yandere morpheus x reader #Morpheus x reader platonic #Child of the Endless series #ep the penguin writings

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

The Bird And The Man

Chapter Ten

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: None

Ao3

Chapter Nine | Chapter Eleven (coming soon)

The Baron of the Oletus Manor is an anonymous individual, an enigma, it only seems like Hastur has a connection to the Baron but cannot speak to how deep that connection is. He controls the games, rarely showing his hand when he deems fit, like the time Joseph had sent a letter requesting the game to permit permanent deaths. The Baron only allowed this because he knew the Photographer was not going to fulfill his own request.

Human hearts are fascinating, often capricious, and often selfish. Yet, there are moments like those and many other heartfelt bonding moments within the Oletus Manor, a story with no end, but with plenty of plot twists and on the edge of one’s seat scenarios.

The Baron is quiet, his posture different from others as he wears a blue suit, the color is warm instead of the dark colors the villain would wear in dramatic stories. He brushes off the bit of dust that landed on him as walked out of the Golden Cave exit gate to meet the raven monster lurking in Lakeside Village. The one called ‘Nightmare’ is standing there looking up at the clear starry sky when the Baron approaches in quick strides, he does not like the mud getting on his brown dress shoes.

The only hint of acknowledgment is the way Nightmare crosses his arms and stands up straight to his full height.

“Thinking of the ghostwriter while stargazing. Romantic.” The Baron breaks the silence while lighting his pipe to take a smoke, “You dreamt of them again.” Spoken as a matter of fact.

No response to that, Nightmare uncrosses his arms noting the way the tone is not harsh, cold but not a blizzard.

“You are aware we share dreams, correct?”

There is no response at first but then a slow nod, he is now waiting for the lecture one gets from a father for eating too many sweets or in this case: playing in the honey jar.

“You should know better than to have relations, creature.” Annoyed, a puff of smoke in the air was blown away by a little breeze.

“No. Rules. Broken.”

The Baron glares, a frown on his lips that is holding up the pipe, he takes the pipe out of his mouth as he replies once more, “The unspoken rule of Hunters and Huntees not having personal relations should not have to be explicitly said, Nightmare.” Shaking his head. “I have been too kind in allowing these connections to form.” Not just Nightmare. Miss Nightingale had fought the Baron for these events, the dressing up, and the different match settings. This is to allow the human mind to handle more than it can handle. The survivors were picked for a reason, a mix of various types of people put into a dangerous situation that seems impossible to escape一 Well, it is so long as the Baron wants them to be here.

“The. Heart. Wants. What. It. Wants.” Nightmare says as his head turns to the Baron, the purple eyes behind the plague doctor mask narrow, “I love them.” The Baron looks away when he hears those words, how easily those words come from the creature. The pain of speaking is something he can endure to state his case, “As. You. Will.”

“Orpheus has written enough doomed relationships with his novels for you to know better than assume that.” He refuses to believe he will fall for a Huntee, a person he is using for these games, “This will end tragically.”

The Baron looks up at the starry night sky, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I detest you.” Those words bitter and resentful, venom that could kill a snake. The nights of late have been infested with dreams of you rather than dreamless nights, no longer is it cold and empty. He can vividly see you, a smile that does not match the situation of the manor. Groaning as he shakes his head before smoking his pipe again.

“Detest. Yourself. As. You. Need.” A deep breath is taken in slowly and let out slowly, “We are fools.” A chill in the air is enough to get him moving towards the exit gate and leave back to the manor.

The Baron remains there until he finishes smoking his pipe.

The Baron allows for celebrations, New Year's and the Lunar New Year among them, but none of them specify a year. That is to keep the mystery of the manor, the timelessness, and endlessness going.

The celebration goes on, and the Baron is far away from the events but close enough to see all the participants from survivors to hunters partaking of the drinks and being civil. Miss Nightingale often complains about how well-behaved Jack is during events much to her annoyance.

The Baron allows Miss Nightingale to place judgment on who comes or does not come to join in these events.

A list drawn up and approved by the Baron upon review.

The banned ones due to how unstable they are: Smiley, Undead, Sculptor, Breaking Wheel, and a few others.

As watches close by but hidden, the gathering of the survivors and hunters, the main event soon to start.

As to be expected, no Nightmare.

The creature hates loud noises and this celebration is full of flashing with loud noises, plus a lot of people given no one misses events (Lady Nightingale can be demanding at times).

But there is no you, your first New Year here and you are nowhere to be found.

Orpheus may not be looking for you but the enigma that is the Baron is. Looking for the aspiring author who foolishly fell into his trap like many others here.

The countdown is starting, Orpheus is speaking with Jack while the others mingle with one another. The Lady Nightingale is there watching from the sidelines, her mask pointed toward the dark clear winter sky.

Another year, five years since the Oletus Manor opened its gate to the Nightingale’s song that fateful night.

The Baron looks with Orpheus towards the sky as the fireworks go off.

#idv #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #orpheus x you #idv orpheus x you #orpheus x reader #nightmare x reader #idv nightmare #nightmare x you #identity v x reader #idv reader insert #idv orpheus #idv novelist #reader insert #idv x you #fanfiction

[dsudis]

I hope this isn't weird, but you posted that and my brain threw this up for you:

Dream only listens with half an ear at what Hob is saying down the line, especially once he picks out "I'll come down but," and ignores the rest. He can pay whatever bonus is needed, and throw in some more.

Hob is, surprisingly, worth keeping. It's not just the skills but the fact that he seems to have, for a lack of a better word, a way with Orpheus. An understanding. With everyone else his son is difficult, he's Dream's after all, but he gets on well with Hob. It's a strange relief he hasn't felt in so long he might never have experienced it to know, for once, that when the weekend man is sick and Desire is making sure to harangue him and make up some reason Dream is needed immediately there is someone he can call. Someone reliable.

Which is why he feels almost nauseous with what feels like a betrayal he has only half a right to when he finally gets back to the house and gets his foot on the stairway and realizes the child's laughter he's hearing doesn't belong to Orpheus at all. Rare as it is, he knows his son. He takes the steps up two at a time and collides inelegantly with the doorframe, like a cat misjudging a corner, to peer into his son's room to see something so extraordinary it feels like a dream.

There's an unknown boy on the rug, building something complicated with Orpheus as if he spent every Saturday helping him erect a mishmash of Lego and Duplo and wooden blocks balanced on the belly of a stuffed once-white rabbit. Orpheus, who has prompted more calls and teacher's notes about the importance of sharing than Dream can count, and is now smiling while telling a fantastical story that seems to fascinate the other child. The one that looks just like Hob Gadling, who is watching them with a soft warmth in his face Dream has never seen, mastering a trick Dream can't get the hang of: being present but not intrusive as his son plays.

There's a rush of something, in his ears and his chest, warm and familiar and unwanted. He'd felt it last when Calliope had first held Orpheus and looked down at him, pink and roughly formed. He hasn't seen it since, much less felt it. He remembers, all over again, the way he does when Orpheus pushes his curls behind his ears in a mirror perfect imitation of his mother, who he can barely remember, because she'd left. She had not looked back. Hob is paid to be here.

"Mr. Gadling," Dream says, and pointedly does not waver at the vague and quickly hidden surprise on Hob's face at the address. "You may go now, I no longer require your services," he finishes, hardening his heart at the boys' pleas to be allowed to play, just for five minutes longer. "For today you mean?" Hob says, too calm, and Dream hears himself say "Clearly," without realizing he'd made a decision. He feels, strangely, that he doesn't regret it.

[Because he's gonna fall in love ho ho ho]

😍😍😍

#yes please #this #dreamling #the sandman #bodyguard hob #modern single dads au

[ofsappho]

I think it will be exciting to see how the Dreaming's residents react to Reader. Not only is she mortal, but she's a non-royal and non-magical mortal that managed to get pregnant by Morpheus. That's extremely rare; I'm sure it took Calliope awhile (Decades? Centuries?) to get pregnant with Orpheus. Furthermore, Reader is having a MORTAL pregnancy unlike Calliope's divine one. Dream seemed shocked (and pleased) by her body's changes last chapter, so I'm sure everyone will also be fascinated.

Hehe next chapter is the formal introduction of Reader to Lucienne and Matthew! I’m very excited. Morpheus and Lucienne will gradually be introducing Reader to the Dreaming and their world. I’m especially looking forward to Reader meeting Fiddler’s Green, as she is one of the many Dreamers who has (unknowingly) contributed to his specific Studio Ghibli-inspired dream throughout the years and I can only imagine how touching that will be.

Bonus spoiler - Death will be present at the birth as one of the labor & delivery nurses. In canon, she gives the breath of life, and I headcanon that not only does she guide people to the afterlife (often with them being afraid/angry/sad at her), she also welcomes babies into the world and is a part of something joyful, happy, and amazing. She will be delighted to not only support her brother and sister in law, but to participate in the birth of their child ❤️ so cute.

#treehouse #the sandman #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #lord morpheus #Morpheus #lord morpheus x reader #lord Morpheus x you

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

dreamling angst headcanon of the night because I like to break my own heart—-

Hob and Dream bonding as fathers who had lost sons way to soon:

Hob remembers how lucky he felt to give his son the sort of comfortable life he wished he had growing up as a poor peasant in the Middle Ages.

He feels relieved that his son would never have to fight for the basic necessities of life that he will thrive in a life that knows not of violence that’s soft in it’s comforts—and yet he still loses him on an ordinary day by a random act of violence on a tavern pub.

—————-

Dream remembers watching as his siblings come to meet Orpheus the first child born out of Endless blood.

He remembers Death’s kind appraising eyes on his son when she tells him that he is mortal —and wasn’t that his eldest brother cruelest joke? “He is yours to keep, my brother, yours to take care of, to hold and to love—he may bleed, may be touched by hunger and sickness and all which mortality entails yet I shall not give him my gift until his time has come and no moment sooner” Dream sighs in relief yet he cannot help but hold Orpheus closer to himself in a rare moment of uneasiness.

-Robyn so like his father with his love of life, his easy laugher and a mind full of curiosity that thrived in the pursuit of academic knowledge.

-Orpheus so like his father with his love and gift for creation with his stubbornness and soft romantic heart and his never ending ability to dream.

-Hob and Dream mourning for their sons, for the lives that were lost to soon for the aching shape in their hearts were a father’s love lives within them.

#i’ve chosen pain today and made it all of your problem as well #i think it’s interesting that then being fathers to sons that died to young most be a big thing that they could bond over #I like to think they sometimes talk about Robyn or Orpheus and it’s okay and a safe space to express their feelings #dreamling #hob gadling #the sandman #sandman #sandman netflix #sandman comics #headcanon #meta

[thebreakfastgenie]

honestly the part of mash that i consider the time loop IS the syndication of it all. it’s already so screwy with time and now it must all happen over and over and over again, in its unstuck messy order or out of it, because we need it to, because it moves us every time we see it and we must keep it playing. it’s like the thing in the musical hadestown where they know they have to tell the story again, because we must keep ourselves hoping that things could turn out better, even if the story remains the same. that’s mash to me. the war goes on. which war is it anymore? we tell the story again, it all happens again, because every time it makes us laugh, cry, get angry, it keeps us connected to each other and to our humanity. or something like that wow i got maudlin as hell in your inbox excuse me. i’m normal about mash and i’m normal about cyclical forms of storytelling (lying)

Yeah I love the meta cyclical thing!!!! My thing is just that I'm a pedant and that doesn't make the narrative a time loop (though you can make a time loop out of it, plenty of fic writers do). MASH going on as long as it did had its pros and cons, but one of the pros is this sort of feeling that war is endless, that time loses its meaning.

I think what I dislike about the time loop thing is the "theory" approach. It's like "what if MASH is actually a time loop" like "what if this cartoon is actually a dream this character had while in a coma" or "what if this entire medical drama was the fantasy of an autistic child staring at a snowglobe" (iykyk). And you know, the idea that the time loop "explains" why the timeline is the way it is, or that that needs an explanation at all. It's not that deep! It is very funny.

I haven't seen or listened to Hadestown (I'm the opposite of most musical theatre fans and I rarely listen to shows I haven't seen, although there have been exceptions) and I'm not really the target audience because I don't care about Orpheus and I don't get that "maybe this time he won't do it" feeling from that particular story, but from what I've heard about how they do the ending it's really cool!! It would probably work on me if I saw it tbh.

I love cyclical storytelling! And I think a lot of people in the MASH fandom like the same things I like with regards to playing with time, I notice that when I get into actual conversations. To me the real potential is in the ability of time tropes to portray how something feels. This is why I keep coming back to Slaughterhouse-5 and the idea of being unstuck in time. What Vonnegut did was give us this war veteran who is trying to live out his life, but is frequently, against his will, transported back in time to the most traumatic experiences of his life. Sometimes he's abducted, taken to a place where he is an alien, observed and put on display for everyone. It's PTSD, but made physical by science fiction elements. It's brilliant. And MASH is so ripe to do stuff like that! You can use the funky timeline and the meta of the show lasting 11 years, being rerun again and again and shown in syndication out of order, to dig into that. And I mean I literally have a time loop WIP so.

I really enjoyed this ask <3

#none of us are normal here <3 #idk if i feel that way about telling stories again and again or not #i mean my instinct is to say i don't. i like to hear the same stories again and again because they're interesting #there are new details to notice #BUT i have been thinking about human connection most lately #mashposting #also I am getting to your other one I promise

[roguelov]

Do you think there’s a section of the library dedicated to lullabies? Also, can Morpheus sing?

Yes I do now!!!

There’s definitely a whole section of lullabies from being of time and far recently from ones in children’s books to ones that only one family will ever hear

Now do I think he can sing?

Yes and no.

I think Dream can sing, and pretty well, he just doesn’t

You may rarely catch him humming a song (maybe his own lullaby he used to sing to Orpheus or something utterly random) but once he hears you he stops. You can ask over and over and practically beg but he won’t sing for you. He’s not embarrassed it’s just something he doesn’t do (maybe it’s a pride or ego thing who knows). And maybe just maybe if you pester him enough he’ll sing (a very very short verse) but that’s all you’ll ever get from him

#very beautiful voice #but will never use it #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #anon #ask

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Miracle - Ch.5

Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) x reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned)

Summary: In the aftermath of the hellhound attack, you find that healing the physical wounds is much quicker than the emotional ones. Warnings: canon-typical magic, panic attack, depressive mood, sexual themes/insinuation, angst WC: 3.6k

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6

The weeks passed by in a blur, or maybe they didn’t pass by at all. You had rarely moved from the bay window that overlooked the plains beyond the palace. You tried not to think about the bedroom you had moved out of, his room, the room that overlooked the river. You tried not to think about the hurt in his eyes, the pity everytime he looked at you. 

A phantom pain speared down your spine. 

Twin scars of ruin were all that was left of your wings. Even now, your muscles still moved as if the reassuring weight of the bone frame and feathers were unfurled behind you. It was a grief you had never known. 

A soft knock pulled you from your rumination but the voice you once had was raw from the screams that woke you each night. He was used to the silence when you didn’t answer. 

He carried a silver tray; two cups, a pot of tea and Lucienne’s scones. 

“Hope wants to see you,” Morpheus said with a barely contained sigh. “She misses you.”

You missed yourself too, you just didn’t know how to get back to who you were before. Not all of you returned from Hades’ domain - physically or mentally. 

“How?” Your voice was hoarse from lack of use and the tea cup rattled over the saucer as it startled him. “How did you part the river?”

Morpheus placed the tray on the side table and took a tentative seat beside you, watching you watch the grass grow. “Styx is a dormant goddess, she has been sleeping for aeons, the river is merely an extension of her power.”

“I still feel their teeth, hear their growls. I can still smell my blood.” A sob shuddered through you and Morpheus carefully pulled you across his lap. The wounds had completely healed but the tenderness might never go away - that’s what the healer said to him when they thought you were unconscious.

“I know,” he murmured as he held you close, the first physical contact you had allowed him since you woke up in The Dreaming. “He is being punished for what he did to you, what he took from you.”

You took little comfort in the fact Hades would be terrorised every time he closed his eyes. It didn’t bring back your wings. 

“Was it like this the first time?” Morpheus dared to ask. 

Your fingers clutched at the dark material covering his chest as you buried your face in his neck and you gave a small shake of your head. “I think a part of me always knew they were there beneath the surface, waiting for me to remember them. Now…there’s nothing.”

The emptiness within you left you gasping for air but you couldn’t seem to get enough. Panic tore you from Morpheus’ arms and you ran for the bathing room before the waves of nausea could send you to your knees. Instead, it was your own body that did that. The change in your balance, the lack of counterweight from your wings, left you stumbling like a newborn fawn and crashing to the tiled floor.

Warm hands tried to help you stand but you shrugged them off and curled away and weakly said, “Go away.”

“I just want to help you, please, let me help.” 

The rational part of you knew he wanted to help because he loved you but the self-isolation and pain had pushed that rational thinker deep into the recesses of your mind. Guilt, a whisper in your mind told you, he wants to help because he feels guilty. 

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered as you pulled yourself up by the lip of the bath. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

An inaudible sigh rose in his chest as he stepped back to the doorway. “Calliope is arriving this evening. A feast is being held for Orpheus’ return.”

A darkness was festering in your chest that you had never felt before and it was beginning to spill from your lips before you could stop it. “You must be happy. One big happy family.”

He inhaled sharply and moved to step back into the room only to freeze as he caught himself. “Careful. I know you are hurting and the part of you that was human is lashing out in response but you are not human. You will not feel better by hurting others.”

You turned away in shame when you realised he was right. “I’m not human, I’m not an angel. What am I?” you asked yourself as you stared at your reflection.

You hardly recognised yourself in the mirror. You looked exhausted, as if your soul had begun to wither away inside you. It was a shock to your system and your shoulders curled in as you dropped your head. 

“A miracle,” said Morpheus, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “You are stronger than anyone I have ever met, just like your mother. You will get through this, we will get through this. No more trying to carry every burden by yourself, and no more sneaking out in the dead of the night. I fear I may never be able to sleep again.”

You looked up and saw indeed that there were dark circles beneath his tired eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Show me,” he dared. “Come back to our bed.”

Tremors shook your hands and you crossed your arms so he couldn’t see them. “I can’t…”

“I see.” You swore you could hear his heart shatter as tears filled his eyes and the mirror cracked your reflection in two. “There is an island beyond the mountain off Fiddler’s Green, it is yours for as long as you please.”

“Wait,” you called as he strode out of the bathroom. “It’s the river.” The sounds of his boots on the tiles stopped but he didn’t return. “I can’t sleep in our bed when I can hear the river outside.”

The palace groaned as the ground shifted before it settled back into place and Morpheus shifted back into the doorway, his fists buried in his pockets. You could see the thoughts flitting through his head as they flowed through his mind - he was berating himself for not realising the association. “It’s gone.”

“Thank you.” The muscles in your face pulled taut, straining against the movement they hadn’t done for weeks. A small smile. “Can you take me to our bed?”

He was at your side in an instant, his arms around you and ready to support you however you needed. Taking a deep breath, you leaned into him and started the slow walk back to where you belonged. 

“I want to see Hades,” you stated as you reached the threshold to the master suite. 

Your fists clenched at your sides. “Good.”

Morpheus uncurled your fingers and traced the life line that cut across your palm. “But not tonight. Tonight is even more of a celebration now that you too have returned.”

It was quiet for a nightmare. 

You had expected to arrive to the sound of screams but there was nothing. The only sound was a faint crackling of a fire glowing through the trees that surrounded you. 

Morpheus laced his fingers in yours and led the way, his boots snapping twigs until he reached the clearing. 

You were about to ask him how this was supposed to be a nightmare or punishment when you saw what was in the fire. It wasn’t Hades. No, Hades was silently weeping on his knees as close to the fire as he dared, the flames flickering in his eyes. 

The fire burned bright and hot and you had to look away after a few seconds but he remained fixated on his wife who lay within their blazing embrace. Unreachable. 

“He believes I tethered their dreams,” Morpheus whispered in your ear. “He believes she spends her nights burning for his sins.”

Hades finally noticed he was no longer alone and crawled across the embers to collapse at Dream’s shoes. “Please, let her go, I beg you.”

“Did you hear my cries when your dog ripped my wings apart?” you hissed, planting your foot on his chest and kicking him back to the flames edge. “Did you call them off? No. So we shall both suffer longing for eternity.”

“Cerberus wasn’t trying to attack you,” Hades avowed. “I had accepted the terms of your deal. You were to leave unharmed.”

Hot rage, hotter than the fire burned through you. “But I didn’t!” 

“He was doing his job, defending his home from an attack.” Hades shied away from the piercing eyes of Dream. “Cerberus was aiming for the threat that was breaking the shields that kept the souls trapped in the Underworld. His target was Dream of the Endless, not you.” Hades' glassy eyes begged forgiveness as he looked up at you. “You saved Dream’s life when you distracted Cerberus with your wings. The barrier was weakened enough my hound could have made it through and torn your lover apart.”

Dream staggered back, a hand pressed to a tree trunk as he felt the weight of those words. “It was my fault.”

His hand wiped the nightmare away until you were stagnant on a blank page, a white endless void. It was as if he had lost all ability to think, to create even the smallest of substance to the dreamscape. Everything he knew, wiped with the truth Hades had unleashed. 

“It was all my fault.”

A small paver appeared at your foot and you took a step, another popping up ahead of it until you reached his side. 

“We could spend the rest of eternity arguing who will take the blame,” you said softly as you caressed his cheek. “What’s done is done. The best we can do is learn from our mistakes. I, for one, will never again go on an adventure without you.”

His nod was reluctant but he tipped his head deeper into your palm before placing a kiss over the love line. “And I shall trust that wherever you go, you will find your way back to me.”

“Always.”

The forest returned but the funeral pyre and Hades were gone, all traces of them along with it too. A small sigh of relief filled the clearing and you realised just how much you didn’t enjoy the pit of rage that had festered since the attack. It was as if it were suddenly drained and you felt a sense of your self return from the release of the hate and despair.

Lustre returned to your hair, life returned to your eyes and you stood a little straighter. You felt lighter than you had in months and swore you felt the ghost of a breeze through feathers behind you. It no longer brought you pain but the warmth of a hug instead. 

Morpheus was deep in thought as you walked back hand in hand, a quiet brooding that you knew would take time to overcome. For as good as you felt from the visit, he felt bad. 

“I don’t regret it,” you said as you squeezed his hand and brought his attention back to the present. “I would have willingly given them up in a heartbeat if it saved your life.”

“If I had trusted you-” he started to say before you cut him off. 

“If I had brought you along. If, if, if. I told you, what’s done is done. Hindsight is only a gift to remind us we survived, nothing more.” He exhaled through his nostrils but didn’t argue as he stepped into the palace. “Now if you were feeling so terribly guilty, there is one thing that would certainly earn your forgiveness.”

His eyebrow cocked up as he looked over at you. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm.”

“And what one thing would that be?” he prompted.

“It starts with those pretty lips on my body and that devilish tongue of yours finding that sensitive spot of mine and ends with drowning in your eyes as you fuck me senseless.”

His breathing hitched and his pace quickened. “I dare to point out that that is far more than one thing, but, I shall happily give my recompense with all that I have.”

Your toes curled in your shoes as you reached the doors to the suite. “Compensation by copulation.“

“Indeed.” The corner of his lip curled up in amusement, the door opening at his command before he stepped inside and looked back. “Coming?”

Your lips were dry as you ran your tongue across them, your heart racing at the thoughts of what Dream was going to do to you. “Oh, I certainly will be.”

Six (Waking) Months Later. “Owww, it hurts, help!” Hope screamed, her whimpers echoing through the library as everyone ran to her. Morpheus appeared at her side first, holding her as she cried, Mervyn arriving after you in his paint splattered overalls and ignoring the disapproving look from Lucienne as she saw the mess he left behind. “My back…”

You knelt in front of her as she wrapped her arms around her knees and hid her tear streaked back. “Did you fall, sweetheart?”

“N-no, I was just reading, and, and then-“ her words were cut off as her back arched and she screamed in pain.

“Morpheus, back up.” You didn’t want to alarm her so you spoke soft and slow but you waved your hand at him to ease away. “Daddy’s going to come and hold your hand.”

He did as you instructed, confusion clear on his face before he took your spot and held Hope’s shaking hands.

“You know how I was an Angel? Remember my wings?” you asked her as you traced a hand along her spine, feeling the bones shifting beneath your fingers. “I think you are about to have your own pair.”

“What?” her voice pitched higher and her eyes widened in panic as she twisted to try to look over her shoulder.

“Hope.” Morpheus drew her attention to him and made a show of taking a deep breath. “Breath with me, deep breath in, hold it, and, let it out.” 

His calm disposition drained the fear from her until another wave of pain erupted and you watched the frame of her wings ripple beneath her skin, a single feather slipping out before it disappeared again. 

Her screams pierced your ear and your gut clenched as you decided that hearing and seeing your daughter in pain was the worst thing you would ever experience. The pain of losing your wings paled in comparison to not being able to ease her suffering. 

Her screams were so loud that they not only reached all corners of The Dreaming but reached her half brother in The Waking. 

“Orphie,” she sobbed, reaching for him as he raced into the library. 

“Hey, little bug,” he greeted gently, looking desperately to you and Morpheus for an explanation and direction on who he should be hurting for his little sister’s tears. Morpheus quietly recapped why she was in pain and he peeked over her back to see the feather protruding before quickly ducking back down with a pale face. “Would you like me to sing you a song?”

“Please.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as he started a slow melody that calmed her mind and soul. With each line another feather eased out but she was so lost in the song that she didn’t notice. The room was absolutely silent except for Orpheus’ voice, no one dared to break the trance he had her in. It was his gift.

“Open your eyes, my darling angel,” Morpheus murmured as he wiped away her tears and the song ended. “It’s over.”

You had never seen a pair of wings like hers. They looked like the night sky, complete with sparkling stars dusted across the plume. 

“They are beautiful,” you said with a proud smile and created a mirror to show her. 

She gasped at the sight and they twitched in response, her eyebrows pinching together as she tried to move them on demand.

“It takes time to get used to them but soon you will be able to control them, fly, and shift them back into your body.” Her breath hitched at the last idea and she scrambled for Orpheus’ hand. “It only hurt because you were frightened and your mind was trying to fight it. It won’t be like that again, I promise.”

She exhaled with relief and looked around the library at all her family and friends that had come to her aid when she called. “Does this mean I am an angel now?”

Those eyes turned to you but you didn’t have an answer for that, you did not know. “How about we take a trip to the Silver City and find out from grandpa?”

Death was kind enough to fly you up first before going back for Hope and Morpheus. You took the time to go in search of God and found him already coming to meet you as you passed Peter and the gates.

“You have questions,” he said with a warm smile.

You chuckled and gave him a nod. “There’s that omniscience.”

“I’m not all knowing,” he countered, offering you his elbow and leading you down the road. “But I do know you.”

“My daughter is an angel, isn’t she, or at least half. What does that mean for the laws?”

“All children are angel’s to me.” He gave your hand a pat as you rolled your eyes before continuing. “Hope is both a Child of the Endless and an angel. She was created with love, just as you were, and she was also created outside the laws that hold the angel’s accountable.”

He sensed your worry and chuckled. “Teach her to control her power, teach her to fly. No one knows how to parent, there’s no manual with all the answers. Between you and Morpheus, I trust you will guide her along the right path.”

“How can I teach her to fly? I have no wings.”

“You were pure creation, pure life,” God said softly as he walked the city with you. “Something that pure doesn’t just disappear, and it cannot be stolen. You just have to find it in yourself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I felt a wave of tremendous guilt the moment that your Morpheus arrived on the banks of the Styx. Your guilt. Whether you acknowledge it or not, you felt guilty for breaking your promise to him, no matter how valiant the reason for doing it.” God halted and you looked up from your shoes you had been glaring at, kicking stones along the pathway, and found yourself in front of your old reflection pool. “You felt unworthy of him, of happiness, of your wings. So, you created a version of yourself that you thought was unworthy of those things.”

A choking, bitter laugh broke through your gritted teeth. “I didn’t clip my wings because I felt bad, they were ripped apart by a hellhound!”

“Reflect while I greet our guests.” God gently nudged you closer to the pool before making his way towards the gates you had arrived at. “Peace be with you.”

Despite the warm breeze that kissed your skin, the pool remained still and calm. Your reflection mirrored your confusion as you waited for the vision to come.

You had tried not to dwell too much on your trip to the Underworld, even after moving forward it still hurt to look back. But the water turned murky as the hues of grey twilight painted a picture and you found yourself watching the replay from over Morpheus’ shoulder.

You could see his power lashing against the shield, hairline cracks spreading across it as you waded through the mud. You remembered that moment because you had seen the rage in his eyes and knew that some piece of it was reserved for you. For your betrayal.

Cerberus reached the banks edge behind you and it was only the warmth of the sun on your back in the Silver City that stopped you from breaking away from the terror unfolding. Those three pairs of flaming eyes were fixated on Morpheus as he slammed against the barrier once more. Snarls, so close to you.

You felt it then, the guilt that threatened to cripple you as you looked at Morpheus and realised you were going to die. Guilt was an imploding pressure in your concaving chest, you would die and he would never know how sorry you were for leaving him.

You blanched and fell from the edge of the reflection pool, crashing to the ground to see Michael shaking his head and offering you a hand up. “Still looking to the pool for answers.”

“Well it’s not like He ever answers them in a way anyone can understand,” you huffed indignantly. “He suggested I crafted a distraction to have my wings torn off because I felt guilty.”

“Did you feel guilty?” he asked.

“I mean, yeah…”

“Guilt isn’t an angelic trait,” he said pointedly. “Maybe you weren’t feeling worthy of what makes us angels us.”

“You’re as bad as Him!”

“The mind is the most powerful thing, it’s amazing what can happen when you put it to use.”

“Stop speaking in riddles, brother,” you snapped.

“Forgive yourself for what happened. Release yourself from the prison you have trapped yourself in, spread your wings and fly.” Michael turned off his heel and took off into the sky towards the upper city. “Peace be with you.”

Click here for Chapter Six.

Tagging: @wt-fxck @nightly-polaris

#dream of the endless x you #morpheus x y/n #the sandman fanfic #Dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #sandman x reader

[sirenjose]

Oracle, Orpheus' Drugs, and Yidhra Theory

Adding this here due to a curious comment I received regarding Oracle and Yidhra on my previous theory.

"Oracle" is technically a drug, as that is how it is described in the "medicine test records" and owner's diaries in the 2nd anniv pack, but it's interesting to connect the effects with Yidhra. Based on what I can find, she is described as being able to project thoughts into the minds of others that can create "dream-like worlds" and humans can mistake for reality, as well as manipulate the mental states of her victims so they're rarely aware of what's happening. So the similarities are pretty good.

And Yidhra's letters are always pretty curious, considering it keeps talking about abnormalities in the water, soil, and plants. The investigators refer to it as something like "pollution". Some of the plants are said to have "wilted", dried up, the soil is said to be "strongly acidic" in at least 1 area, and the "algal content" of the water is higher than normal lakes, They also mention strange "unidentified microbial deposits" in the water and soil, but their investigation is forced to end due to various reasons (missing records, destroyed environments, etc…).

Yidhra's 4th letter also mentions that the "edge of the forest" was withered, but the plants within the forest were "teeming with life". It is unknown whether the soil was acidic here too, but we do see Yidhra causes the investigator to blur "dreams and reality" as well as how the investigator "cannot seem to remember" if there was "an ending to last night's dream".

I did see that at least some ferns like acidic soil, in which case the soil by Lakeside would be good for them (or at least Orpheus could take some of it to grow the ferns in his greenhouse).

I also saw that ferns require organic matter (like decomposing plant material) for growth. From what I found, microbial deposits consist of accumulations of microorganisms and their byproducts, which can help decompose organic matter and contribute to the nutrient cycle to make those nutrients available to plants, including ferns. So it's possible all these things in Yidhra's letters are related to the ferns.

I also did see that supposedly she can provide "bountiful crops and healthy livestock", so it'd stand to reason she can also cause the opposite to happen. In which case, that could tie to the dead part of the forest vs the flourishing part of the forest. Within the forest we know is the Forest of No Return/Darkwoods, where we can find the bonfire that Yidhra's form can appear in after eliminating 4 survivors by it (which ties to the part where she can provide those healthy crops and livestock if she is worshiped). We also know Marjorie likely saw Yidhra's form in the fire based on Yidhra's 2nd letter.

The issue with Oracle specifically is Netease seems to have decided against it to instead do something else, as we can see we have 4 different drugs, but they seem to at least do some similar things to what Oracle did, meaning the fern could still tie to Yidhra.

(Least this whole idea would tie Yidhra to the lore somehow + make some sense out of her letters)

#idv #identity v #yidhra #dream witch #idv yidhra #identity v yidhra #idv dream witch #identity v dream witch

[rriavian]

7 and 8 for Love Your Fandom asks :)

Bobbole! <3 thank you so much for these questions! I really enjoyed having a little think about them :)

7 your favorite tropes to read/write/draw

What a great question! There are so many but I've narrowed it down to a few :) I am very much a fan of ‘there was only one bed’ trope, or any other iteration of ‘forced to interact by Circumstances’ — just pure gold every single time!! It’s a tragedy that I haven’t written anything like that for Corintheus.

Truly I am suffering, but one day I’ll do it! The closest I think I’ve gotten is there’s a lot of uneasy allies/enemy tension in a lot of my fics.

Tbh if there was only one bed I really think both Dream and the Corinthian would be like ‘well you can sleep on the floor’ and probably only end up sharing because the other one refused to give it up. Dream could make another one with his fancy Endless powers, but I do feel like he’d stubbornly dig his heels in, or make a really comfy bed and the Corinthian would be outraged that it’s better and so try and kick him out of it (ok that’s enough of me work shopping scenarios!)

A well done fix it fic is definitely my kryptonite, as I’m sure it is for a lot of people!, because they can be very comforting as well as ways to resolve frustrations with canon material. Deliverance is probably my version of a comforting fix it :) 

Another trope that makes me go insane is the whole ‘I see you as you are and I want all of it’ — which again you’ve probably seen a lot of in my writing. I love when a character looks at another one and accepts and loves all that they are, good and bad, without reservation. Not necessarily in a toxic way, more in a ‘I fell in love with the real you not a you I want you to be’ way. They see what the other hides/is ashamed of/has been rejected for and are like…no, other people are fools actually.

That probably says a lot about me as a person—so let’s not look too closely haha—but I just love relationships that affirm identity.

8 you hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc)

I can't help but say Corinthiel! There is so much to love about it as a ship, and I hope it will become less of a rare pair in future.

Definitely platonic/gen relationships too! They’ve always been a favourite of mine (your Dream & Orpheus prompts were so amazing to write for!) and I love explorations of character/themes outside of romantic relationships. I was actually far more used to writing gen before I started Baiting the Trap.

Those types of relationships/themes are still present in that series, and in all my other work, because even when I’m writing something shippy it’s never in isolation. The ship will always slot into a network of other relationships/themes outside of a ‘main’ pairing, and I love seeing that explored and appreciated in fics. I really hope it has been able to shine through in my own writing because it’s very important to me :)

#love your fandom ask #thank you! #rria answers #the sandman