#thebigsl33p

[thebigsl33p]

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it? 

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant. 

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories. 

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk. 

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos. 

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool. 

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned. 

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker. 

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way. 

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way. 

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over. 

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes. 

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement.  He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly. 

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet. 

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly. 

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit. 

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself. 

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come. 

-

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold… 

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here. 

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic. 

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax. 

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?” 

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.” 

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?” 

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.” 

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.” 

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?” 

“Leonid.” He repeats. 

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?” 

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya? 

He says it anyway. 

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?” 

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head. 

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him. 

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost. 

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff. 

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up. 

 He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking. 

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. 

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful. 

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly. 

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her. 

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt. 

-

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake. 

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment. 

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve. 

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows. 

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies. 

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use. 

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it. 

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food. 

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire. 

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him. 

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand. 

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a  mouthful of cake. 

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?” 

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…”  he gestures at her - at her glowing. 

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?” 

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms. 

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little. 

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl. 

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.” 

And again, they both laugh. 

-

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things. 

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers. 

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction. 

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did. 

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.” 

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword. 

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer. 

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men. 

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs. 

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining, 

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees. 

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm. 

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly. 

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot. 

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away. 

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp. 

-

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake! 

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun. 

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead. 

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-” 

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.” 

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath. 

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said. 

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say. 

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.” 

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?” 

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features. 

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.” 

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even. 

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.” 

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right. 

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently. 

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.” 

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.” 

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.” 

-

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’. 

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha. 

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times. 

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow. 

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.” 

“Grisha?” The man interrogates. 

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.” 

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair. 

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening. 

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…” 

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.” 

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary. 

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further. 

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night. 

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts. 

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind. 

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world… 

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired. 

His feet take him to her room. 

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that. 

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy. 

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times. 

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly. 

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire. 

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing. 

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you. 

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?” 

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.” 

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.  

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.” 

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently. 

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?” 

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?” 

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.” 

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s  mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention. 

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word. 

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed. 

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke. 

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her. 

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.” 

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed. 

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.” 

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

[escapingjune]

Joel Miller

J.M. - Masterlists

Joel Miller Masterlist By: justagalwhowrite

Joel Miller Masterlist By: cavillscurls

Joel Miller Masterlist By: eupheme

morning-star-joy Joel Miller Masterlist By: morning-star-joy

Pedro Pascal Masterlist By: savemefromanepicoftimewasted

Masterlist By: heartpascal

Joel Miller Recommendation Masterlist By: outoftheseine

Last of Us Masterlist By: hottpinkpenguin

TLOU Masterlist By: loganlermanstanaccount

Joel Miller - Masterlist By: forever-rogue

Pedro Masterlist By: creedslove

Joel Miller Fics Masterlist By: atomicladytimetravel

masterlist By: sl-ut

masterlist By: rogueonestan

Joel Miller By: darkroastjoel

Fanfiction Hall Of Fame [May List of 2023] By: picklejar-hall-of-fame

Masterlist By: sp00kymulderr

navigation By: breakfastatjoels

Joel Miller Masterlist By: thetriumphantpanda

Masterlist By: stylesispunk

Joel Miller Masterlist By: guess-my-next-obsession

Masterlist By: macfrog

Masterlist By: bluebeary-jay

Masterlist By: punkshort

Pre & Post Outbreak Masterlist By: Tightjeansjavi

J.M. - Series

Just Too Good To Be Gone Masterlist By: something-tofightfor

Uneven Odds — Series Masterlist By: theetherealbloom

To Hell and Back l J. Miller Miniseries Masterlist By: darkroastjoel

a stranger's heart without a home masterlist By: morning-star-joy

Friendly Fire By: the-ginger-hedge-witch

The Stable Girl Masterlist By: guess-my-next-obsession

Twenty Years Later - Joel Miller By: yelena-bellova

cruel summer By: proxima-writes

That's a Real Fucking Legacy: Masterlist By: wyn-n-tonic

The Teacher | series masterlist By: jwritesfanfics

Broken Souls | series masterlist By: jwritesfanfic

plum, masterlist By: thyme-in-a-bubble

Harder To Find What’s Right By: something-tofightfor

Look for the Light - Masterlist By: albertasunrise

Seeing you, Seeing me - completed series By: amywritesthings

At Your Service By: randofantfic

Broken Without You (Completed) By: sourwolf-sterek32

Gold Rush | Masterlist By: trulybetty

Canary In A Coal Mine: Masterlist By: thebigsl33p

Apothecary - A Joel Miller Story By: atinylittlepain

Fall Into Temptation Masterlist By: darkroastjoel

The Great War By: stylesispunk

Fractured masterlist By: katsheadinclouds

Whiskey Tears By: papipedroo

Slow Hands By: tightjeansjavi

Edge of Darkness By: hyzer34

Restoring the Roots By: bearsbeetsbeskar

Keep close By: nexusnyx

Texas Sun By: from-the-clouds

But you know the killdeer doesn’t understand By: morning-star-joy

In the woods somewhere By: thetriumphantpanda

Ghost of you By: thetriumphantpanda

A safe haven By: joelsgreys

Slow hands By: tightjeansjavi

Look what we’ve become By: punkshort

The way we were By: punkshort

Fate, after all By: mandoisapunk

Under the moonlight By: hier--soir

Five days By: morallyinept

A Future Together By: kteague

flash point By: dustydaddyyy

Seeing you, Seeing me By: amywritesthings

I couldn’t want you anymore By: Stylesispunk

You know you never stood a chance By: corazondebeskar-reads

Firefly By: final-girl96

Seeking what’s desirable By: chloeangelic

Too Sweet By: bunnysbrainrot

Over again By: burntheedges

I need to start a garden By: sepptember

J.M. - One Shots

Love at First Fight Part 2 By: jazzysnazzys

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE By: joelscruff

Willow | joel miller x f!reader | pt. 1 By: jenispunk

Bell Bottom Blues By: thot-of-khonshu

Observations By: ezrasbirdie

Followed the Beast By: psychedelic-ink (more parts please)

Neighborly Love By: kteague

Be still my foolish heart By: bluebeary-jay

Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter (Part 1) By: fragilefable

Harvest Moon By: joelmillersmunch

Din Djarin

D.D. - Masterlist

Masterlist By: sp00kymulder

Pedro Pascal Masterlist By: savemefromanepicoftimewasted

D.D. - Series

Din Djarin By: goldafterglow

D.D. - One Shot

Significant By: softlyspector

Face to Face By: bluebeary-jay

[the-vex-archives]

The Sandman Masterlist (2024)

Morpheus

Oneshots

"I Need My Golden Crown of Sorrow, My Bloody Sword To Swing, I Need My Empty Halls To Echo With Grand Self-Mythology"

@thebigsl33p

No summary provided

The Corinthian

Oneshots

"Nihil" @lis-likes-fics

No summary provided

#fanfic recommendation #masterlist #2024 #the sandman #morpheus #the corinthian

[thebigsl33p]

hadestown AU anyone

But I can't figure out whether to make him older!Aleksander as Hades, and Persephone!reader or younger!Orpheus!Aleksander and a Eurydice!Reader

#thebigsl33p #fanfic #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #shadow and bone x reader #au #hadestown au

[thebigsl33p]

And If I Never Sleep Again, I Will Stand In The Dark For You

A/N: Can I just say "Sonya Alone" From Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 is a heartbreaking song that I am totally not crying to rn. umm warnings for canon bending slightly maybe, OOC darkling by accident maybe? oh angst angst angst I just have all these ideas floating around my drafts so this is like a little blurb or something yeah okay

She drapes one arm across the back of his shoulders, leans her chin on his shoulder and places a hand at the back of his hair.

The man is hunched over his desk, maps of an ever-changing kingdom splayed before him, pens and pencils scattering the area. His Kefta is hung on the back of the chair, there's a low fire burning in the fire place which provides the main source of light - save for the moon which streams in through the glass window.

"Sasha," She says, voice kind and gentle, "Come to bed, my love."

"I will," He says. He mumbles the words, still not looking up from his writings on the map until he finishes the first two words and then, "I just have to finish this, darling, and then-" the moment he turns his head to look at her, she's gone. Her touch disappears from his shoulders, the sound of her voice is a memory, and Aleksander Morozova has to remind himself that she has been gone, for a long, long time.

He stays there for a while, staring at the empty space he was so sure she stood in, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down in a subtle frown. He was so sure this time.

-

Y/N used to have a habit of falling asleep on the bench outside their house. Whenever he had to leave, she would see him off in the night, standing in front of that bench with her shawl pulled around her shoulders, waiting until he was out of sight to return back inside their home.

And on the nights that he was due to return to her , she would wait on the bench, for the familiar black clothes and long hair, for the slight trotting of a horse and the crunch of his boots on the dirt, for once he got close enough he dismounted and patiently walked the rest of the way. And normally, once he reached the house he would find his lover standing, as she was when he left.

"Have you slept?" he would ask, tying the horse to a fence.

She would shrug, "A little," and he would spot the blankets on the bench before he walked to her, and she placed her hands on his face and smiled, "I don't sleep well without you by my side, though."

-

He is, for better use of the word, haunted.

Fragments of her wonder around the empty halls of the Little Palace, daytime and nightime. For example, when he's walking down a corridor and he hears laughter from around the corner and he nealy stops in his tracks and whips his head around because he's so convinced it sounds like her. It never does though, and it never is.

He doesn't sleep consistently, always waking in the night, and every now and then he turns over and expects to see a body warming the other half of the bed. But when his searching hands don't meet skin or warmth, and instead meet cold, empty sheets, he buries his emotions into his chest and turns onto his side, pretending the large bed is a single, with only enough room for him. So her ghost can't slip in beside him in the moonlight.

She always does though. He always wakes to pure sunlight and arms around him that disappear the moment he opens his eyes, and in a moment of rage and love, he darkens the room and blocks out the light.

She comes back when he does that, a hand tracing down his back, soft words, "Don't do that Aleksander..."

"Why?" He whispers, and he nearly sounds offended.

He can practically hear the frown in her voice, "Not that I don't love it - you know I do. But I love how you look in the sun more... especially in the mornings - you're so pretty Aleksander." They're bittersweet words, ones that he knows off by heart by now, ones that she spoke to him on her final morning. But they didn't know that then.

"You're nothing." He says, "You're not here."

And he's right. He knows, it she knows it, and it's an awful moment of truth. No matter how long he waits for her, she will never come back to him. He will never know what she felt, sitting on that bench, waiting for him in the darkness and the moment that he finally appeared out of the forest that surrounded their home, and walked back into her arms, how he longs to do one more time.

#shadow and bone fanfic #aleksander morozova X reader #the darkling X reader #aleksander X reader #idk what else to tag #angst #angst fanfic #“I will stand in the dark for you” #thebigsl33p #EHHHHHHHHHH

[thebigsl33p]

Let Me In If I Break and Be Quiet If I Shatter

Part one.

Probably wrong canon wise. I wrote this while watching I, Tonya and Constantine.

Lord Morpheus was making a right fool of himself and he was really hoping that no one could see him. He wasn't sure he'd care too much if it was Y/N but Matthew and Lucienne would never let him hear the end of it.

He was scrambling over the Sand dune's, his big black boots making him trip and get sand in his socks. He was trying really hard to get up that dune as fast as possible but it just wasn't working and then-

"Dream?" She had bent her head over the edge of the Dune, tilting it at him.

"Y/N..." His words were choked in his throat, his mouth hanging open as if he couldn't breathe, "Is it you? Are you real?" He had finally made his way up the dune and was standing in front of Y/N.

She was now looking up at him, "Of course it is silly. You'd think the King of Dreams would know what's real and what isn't."

He dropped to his knees. Morpheus just couldn't help it, he didn't care if his fancy trousers got dirty or if he sunk into the sand, he just needed to know that Y/N was real.

"You're back." He said, though it came out as little more than a whisper.

"I'm back." She assured him, "There's been a rise in um...witchcraft, actually. Neo-Paganism, Wicca, y'know people are really getting into it. And all these people starting to believe again means that...I get to exist. And I get to be with you."

"We're going to find a way to make sure you can stay. For good." Morpheus told her, before quickly correcting, "I didn't mean to insinuate that people would lose faith it was just..." He looked like he choked on his own words, "I can't afford to lose you again. After you left I was different. I couldn't cope. You can ask Lucienne, I could barely rule my kingdom." He chuckled slightly, as if his bad mental health was funny, "But you're here now."

"Do you remember the last thing I said to you?" She looked down at her hands, picking at her nails.

"Yes. Do you?" He was watching her every move.

"Mhm. Do you still feel that way?" Y/N asked rather quiet, "It's been a few centuries hasn't it? There's not much point being presumptuous."

"Oh, that's a silly question and you know it." He cracked a smile, soft and barely noticeable.

The type of smile he hadn't let shine through since they were last together, sitting on the stairs of the Pantheon, laughing.

And before he knew it, he had kissed her for the first time.

The world changed around him. The sunlight felt different, the breeze, the smell of the sea, the sand beneath his knees, her skin under his palms.

Dream of The Endless was awake for the first time in Twenty Five Hundred years.

#dream of the endless X reader #thebigsl33p #lord morpheus X reader #the sandman X reader #the sandman netflix #morpheus X reader #Dream X reader #king of dreams X reader #lord of dreams X reader #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #X reader

[thebigsl33p]

Hello. I was wondering if you could do a Morpheus x F!Reader where Morpheus and reader are not in a relationship but have some chemistry going and then somehow, the reader ends up in Desire's realm where Desire basically kidnaps her once they found out about the readers "relationship" with Morpheus? I hope this makes sense. I just really want a Morpheus vs Desire over the reader

I'm very excited to write this!!! This sounds like something out of my 3 AM specialised playlist imagining sessions and I am loving it!! Desire Vs Morpheus showdown it is!! I kinda just started to write so sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm also sorry this took so long, i's been sitting in my drafts being edited for ages

TW: violence and mild mentions of Gore but if you watched The Sandman you should be good.

Desire had always been friendly to Y/N, Eleos, the Goddess of Kindness, mercy, clemency, compassion, and pity. And being the kind woman she was she never read much into the friendly flirtations that Desire offered back.

But she was aware of other things, such as how a certain Endless' jaw would clench whenever he saw her and his sibling together, walking through the fields that he had carefully crafted for her and himself.

Dream and Y/N had been friends for an eternity, and often they visited each other's realms. Eleos would bring compassion and an overwhelming bout of happiness to Morpheus' realm, and Morpheus would bring sweet dreams to the citizens of Eleos' realm. Often their people visited the opposing realm, and each creation got along well, reflecting the good tidings they felt for each other.

Eleos had been beside Dream for a long time, outlasting any of his relationships (which she sometimes teased him about when the mood was right). She was there when Dream was captured and felt his absence more than anyone else, but she held her head high nonetheless. She was the only person Dream would ever consider calling a friend, and when he returned to The Dreaming after 200 years, she was there with open arms and kind words. She helped him rebuild his realm and bring back his citizens and the wayward nightmares.

There were other things in the time that he had returned, a vortex causing significant damage to The Dreaming which was swiftly dealt with. But upon the revelation that this was all part of a plan,one concocted by Desire and Despair, Dream paid his younger sibling a visit.

Since then things had been fraught between the two Endless.

And unbeknownst to her, Y/N stood right in the middle of it.

That's why it came as a surprise to her when she woke up, in a realm that was unmistakably Desire's.

Everything was red. A colour of red that constantly shifted, never the same, swirling from bright red to deep dark blood maroon. She noticed quickly that she was in a room with a fire burning in the middle of it and an uncomfortable, plasticky-looking Chaise Lounge to the side. There were leather straps wrapped around her ankles and wrists, holding her to a metal bar, suspending her slightly off the ground, and causing her arms great pain which was slowly spreading to the rest of her body.

The Goddess whimpered slightly, her arms burning. The noise caught the attention of the realm, and more importantly the realm's ruler.

The moment she let out the noise the energy of the realm changed, becoming hostile and off-putting.

And then there were footsteps, the clicking of high heels with close-to-impossible stiletto heels.

She felt Desire's presence before she saw them, this overwhelming encompassing feeling of want for anything and everything. And then they were in front of her and the feeling subsided.

"Desire," her mouth felt dry, the words hard to get out as she felt her lips crack, "How long have I been here for? Why am I here? What-"

"Hush, sweetheart." Desire grinned, "Don't you worry about a thing…"

She turned her head away from Desire as they reached out a hand to stroke her hair, "Desire." It was a warning, a demand, her words held as much power as she could muster in someone else's realm, "Let me go." She pulled slightly against her restraints.

Desire started giggling, "Let you go? No, no, no, darling, it's too soon for that! I haven't gotten my revenge yet." They twirled her hair around their finger.

Fear filled her veins. A Goddess stood no chance against an Endless, "Desire, please let me go…please. Whatever I've done- whatever I owe you-"

Desire gripped her jaw, pointed fingernails digging into her skin and making her grit her teeth together, "This isn't about you." They hissed, dropping the playful facade, "This is about my brother. I want to see him suffer, want to see him mourn and cry and beg." They grinned.

Desire took a step back but didn't release her face until a beat later before they turned around and faced the fire. They bent down, their fishnets stretching over their perfect skin, and reached into the fire in the centre of the room. Their hand disappeared into the flames and re-emerged holding a leather parcel. There were the remains of string tied around it which burned away in the fire.

She watched as Desire held it above their head and brushed it off of any ash from the leather outside. There was a buckle on the front which they undid, then held it high and let the leather unroll to reveal rows upon rows of sharp glistening knives that held the cosmos on the edge of their blades which instantly reminded her of Morpheus.

She bent her head down and began to speak as Desire ran their fingers over the knives, words of dreams and nightmares and ancient powers.

"He can't reach you here." Desire said, "Not unless I let him in."

"Well, he's got to be here if you want to see him beg and…grieve."

"You hold a very good point." Desire waved a hand and something changed again before they took a knife out of the holder, "Shall we start? Make sure he can hear you screaming and begging?"

-

By the time Desire is done there is no mistaking that Morpheus heard her, but Y/N's also sure half her skin must be hanging off. Desire held nothing back, and with their realm heightening her every sense each blade against her skin was pure agony and despair.

Finally, when Desire is done, knives and various other tools are scattered around Y/N's feet, they grin, "My brother is so very selfish." They pout playfully, "He has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter, and he's always been a little bit too much like Destiny. His moral compass is just overwhelmingly straight!" They're dramatic when they speak, "Until it isn't. And when Morpheus makes a mistake it's so easily overlooked, when he condemns past lovers to hell and is the reason for his son's death and misery, it's all fine! But try being me and try having a little fun? Well…you can't get anywhere in life."

They sigh, seductively laying back on the plastic chaise lounge, "So I decided, why not take from him what he values most." They shrug, "Show him what it really feels like to lose."

There's blood filling Y/N's mouth as she speaks, "I don't know that he'll care that much for me." She nearly laughs.

"What?" Desire grins, "You think I didn't think about The Dreaming? About sweet Lucienne and Merv and Cain and Abel and even Corinthian, when he was still around. I thought about the entire realm! Even its very substance, about tearing it apart from the inside until he begged for mercy but I knew…" They shook their head, "Oh, I knew he'd give it all up for you within seconds." They snapped their fingers.

"So what? You want Morpheus' realm?" Each word was agony but she needed to know Desire's motives, needed to figure out a way out of this.

Desire shrugged playfully, wiping blood off their fingers, "If that's what he happens to offer then so be it." And then they were gone with the faint echo of malicious laughter, leaving Y/N with nothing but Morpheus' name on her lips.

-

Y/N heard Morpheus before anything else, the sound of those heavy boots marching authoritatively down the red plasticky hallway. And then the feeling of static and electricity in the air, like the calm before a storm except…there was anger so ancient and so furious that it consumed everything around him and Y/N understood that in that moment, he held just as much power here as he did in The Dreaming.

When he arrived, Desire was lounging on that red chair, smiling leisurely in front of her, enjoying the degrading display of struggle.

Morpheus' voice echoed around the realm, a deep and relaxing tone to her ears but one that caused fear and worry in Desire. Not that they'd back down now.

"Brother," their tone was velveteen and relaxed, "We're just in here, why don't you come to join us? We were having a wonderful time discussing you."

The wall split open to reveal Dream, eyes holding nebulas and constellations and rage. His hands hovered by his side as he took three long strides into the room, laid eyes on Y/N's state, and then had Desire pinned to the wall by their neck, long fingers curling tightly around their throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" He was angry, a type of angry Eleos had never seen before, despite being his side for most of his existence. He hadn't even used this tone when he dealt with The Corinthian and he was fuming then.

So this? This must've been pure unfiltered rage and it hit her like a brick.

"Of what?" Desire, despite currently losing the fight, was acting dumb. Ignorant.

Dream's grip tightened, and Y/N saw Desire physically struggle for breath, not that they needed it. But something told her they'd gotten a little bit too comfortable.

So they corrected themselves, "I wanted to see how far you'd go for your little goddess there. How much you'd sacrifice in her name."

"You. This is it Desire, this is the end of any connection or familiarity that I may have with you. Any positive feelings I once felt towards you are gone, you are no longer my sibling and I am ashamed to once have even called you family."

Y/N knew that all Dream had ever wanted, deep down, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself, was a family to call his own. His siblings were, for a while, all he had ever known. And deep down he had always hoped to himself that they could return to how it used to be, before -everything-. That perhaps, just like Delirium and Death hoped, they could call themselves an actual family.

But now, with Desire's actions and words, there was no hope of that. Not even in Hell.

And so Morpheus' hand just got tighter and tighter and tighter around Desire's neck, until the younger Endless' started clawing at his hands for mercy.

But it was Y/N that stopped it, "Dream. Enough." Her words were weak and quiet but he heard them.

Instantly he dropped Desire, leaving them to lick their wounds in a crumpled heap on the floor, and rushed to her, hands clumsily and hurriedly trying to undo the leather straps, eyes taking in all the cuts and bruises.

"I'm sorry…" the words were whispered so Desire would never hear as he shook his head before turning to his pitiful sibling, "You disgust me."

And then The Goddess and The Endless were gone.

-

She had passed out the moment they arrived in The Dreaming from a mixture of exhaustion and blood loss that her immortal body did not let her succumb to. But she needed the rest.

And for the first time in what felt like years, she felt safe.

The next time she was awake she was lying in the softest bed she had ever felt. Y/N could feel the multitude of bandages that had been wrapped around her, and when she looked down she saw Lucienne sitting in a chair reading a book and her heart soared with relief.

She moved to sit up slightly and noticed she felt the best she had in days. The librarian jumped at the noise, shutting the book with a slam before seeing Y/N, "Our Lady of Kindness, you're awake!" She was shocked, jumping out of her chair to prop some pillows up behind her, "Can I get you anything? I should tell Lord Morpheus you're awake-"

"Luc," Y/N reached out an arm, "Calm down." She said slowly, "Drop the formalities. I'm okay." She reassured, letting the librarian catch her breath before continuing, "I would like to see Morpheus. If he's around."

"He's been worried about you for days." She nearly laughed but then shut her mouth as if she'd said something she shouldn't, "I shall retrieve him."

She was gone and back in a flash, a dark shadow following her upon her return. Morpheus.

The Goddess and The Endless stared at each other a minute as the librarian excused herself and then he dragged the chair to her bedside and took a seat. A beat. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Much better. Thank you." She looked at her hands in her lap, "I'm sorry you had to…do that."

"Desire did awful things to you. This is the last time they will get away with it as if their actions were trivial." There was a subsided anger in his tone and Y/N sighed.

"Thank you, Morpheus."

"You have nothing to thank me for."

"You-"

"I'd do anything for you in a heartbeat." The words came out fast and suddenly, "I'm just sorry I didn't get to you sooner. And…Desire putting you in that situation…it's stupid it took that for me to realise how I feel about you."

The last part made her eyebrows raise and her heart beat significantly faster, "Oh." She blinked a few times before taking his hands in hers and then she was pulling him forward, "I owe you so much Dream Lord." She smiled sadly before leaning in and kissing him.

For the first time in the rest of their existence.

#dream of the endless X reader #dream X reader #the sandman X reader #morpheus X reader #lord of dreams X reader #sandman X reader #lord morpheus x reader #thebigsl33p #king of nightmares X reader #X reader #the sandman fanfic

[thebigsl33p]

We Were Angels Once, Don't You Remember?

A/NM: I love this musical and no one can stop me from titling my fics after it, or just general War and Peace quotes. (Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812). (I also tattoeed myself with the comet yesterday and idk abt it I reckon it'll be gone in three weeks)

Bold : Aleksander's letters

Italics: The Reader's lettersb

My Dear wife,

I have no intention to bore you with my journey to The Fold, nor the details of the First or Second Army. In summary, the armies are well, as was the journey save for the major flaw that you were not by my side. I suppose, however, that it is good to be with and among our soldiers, to see your plans into action.

Despite my previous words, I will tell you of something I saw during the journey. On horseback and taking a different route from everybody else on the journey, as usual, I came across a field. It was too early in the season for the flowers to have bloomed, however I could see many green, unopened stems and buds, and stopped to think of you. I would very much like to take you there when summer comes, to witness a natural beauty secondary to yours.

I do sincerely believe it will be a sight you will favour, and we could make a nice break out of it - something different from our usual afternoon horseriding, and a savoured rest from The Little Palace. Do tell me what you think.

I beg of you to write me about the most trivial aspects of your day, just so I may have more of you with me while we are apart. Even though it is only a couple days we must spend away from each other I think of you endlessly. I must confess it is hard to work without thinking of you but if I had to choose any distraction, it would be you. In your absence, I see you in everything: in the maps the otkazat'sya cartographers, in the patches of greenery around the camp, in the ruins of the buildings we passed and the lights of the tents.

You haunt me, and yet you are not dead. I know you wait for me at home, and still I cannot help but feel grief over being apart from you.

I beg of you to write me swiftly, milaya,

All my love,

Aleksander.

-

To my love, Aleksander,

How you are so charming through pen and paper, I will never understand.

Moreover, I am well. Genya has been keeping me company between the Tsar and Tsarita, but she does not have your looks. On a serious note, I miss you terribly. A few days since reading your last letter has built a thousand years of longing inside me.

I find myself turning to speak to you in the library or in meetings which results in Genya's teasing when she sees my words catch in my throat. The bed feels unbelievably big and cold, and I'm reluctant to tell you that I have taken to falling asleep next to, or wearing, your old Keftas. Silly and childish, I know, but at night I can dream it is you.

There is not much else to tell. The Little Palace is... well, The Little Palace: teeming with gossip about who is betrothed to who, about us and so forth, Preparations have begun for the next upcoming ball, which I trust you will have returned for. I hope you, my husband, will not leave me to face those horrible people alone.

And you know how much I enjoy our private conversations in front of others. The little looks of distaste, slight taps of our fingers and slight turns of the head. They are very entertaining, even if the company is boresome.

I fantasise about your return too much. It doesn't matter how - whether day or night, whether I fall into your arms or wake up with you beside me - all that matters is that you are finally back with me, in our Little Palace. I long to sleep beside you, to hold you in the night and to wake up with the soft spring sun across us, soft sheets and your ever-inviting eyes.

I have spoken enough about myself. How are you, my love? How has The Fold been treating you? I send my deepest wishes that the work is not too hard... and there are not too many fights.

I wish for you to know that I wait for you, painfully. Though may I urge you to return soon, unless you wish to find Genya sharing your side of the bed...

My heart,

Y/N.

#aleksander X reader #aleksander morozova X reader #general kirigan X reader #kirigan X reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone X reader #the darkling X reader #letter styled fanfic #idk abt this tbh #thebigsl33p

[thebigsl33p]

So i dont know if you can or will but could you do ome where the reader is the daughter of luicfer and finds out Morpheus help calliope ( his x wife) amd is jealous since he her 1st love amd she scared she not as good as a goddess but he tells her how wrong she is :) amd he only loves reader

Y/N wasn't one to be jealous. That was much more up her lover's street, to be protective and overbearing. She didn't mind so much.

But something changed the two days upon which Morpheus left The Dreaming without telling her. It was unusual, especially after they'd spent so long apart, he had made a habit of telling her and Lucienne where he was going.

The first time he left in the evening under "business on the mortal realm", but being Daughter of the God of Lies gives you a little bit of intuition and Y/N could see right through him. She accepted it none the less.

And when he arrived home in the night, slightly dishevelled and with a look of anger, she went to comfort him.

"Morpheus, are you alright? Can I help?" For once she felt small in the massive throne room. She had only seen him like this a few times.

The Endless' head shot up from where he was slouched on his throne.

"There's nothing you can do I'm afraid." The words were little more than a whisper, "It's my...former wife, Calliope, muse of eloquence and epic poetry. She has been imprisoned by a mortal and called upon me for help...but there's nothing I can do. Only the mortal can free her."

"Then you must influence her prisoner." Y/N took gentle steps towards her lover, and despite the fact it hurt her more than anything she was willing to offer help and advice.

"Thank you." He reached up, held her face softly, and then he was gone. Just...gone. Leaving her standing there aimlessly.

And consumed by confusion, some form of jealousy and a sense of inferiority she fell to the floor and began to sob. He had never looked at her that way, never acted for her like that. And she knew she shouldn't feel this way, that it was bad to feel bad, but for some reason it ate her whole.

***

Morpheus returned not too long after.

But Y/N had locked herself in her room under the cover of being ill. She spent hours in front of the mirror, pulling at her face and body wondering if she could make herself better for Morpheus. Perhaps she should cut her hair? Maybe change her eyes?

She didn't even know what Calliope looked like, but it didn't matter.

She was a goddess and Y/N was nothing more than the Spawn of Evil. And the Spawn Of Evil was ugly and unworthy of love. She was after all, the daughter of Satan, and perhaps if she had been anything more she wouldn't have had these thoughts.

But for three days straight she woke up and she stared at herself until her form began to lose meaning.

There was a sense of vulnerability to it. Morpheus was her first and only lover and he could easily leave her for someone more...someone better, prettier, smarter, gifted. These feelings made her ashamed.

It was the third day of her solitary that Morpheus demanded an audience with her. He came bearing soup for her fictional illness and turning him down would be suspicious. So she let him in, but as he opened the door and looked at her, he tilted his head, "You're not sick...?"

She didn't say anything just shook her head from where she was sitting on the side of her bed.

Morpheus placed the soup down and rushed to her side, "Then what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No, no." She was laughing but she was crying and it confused him to no end.

"Then...what's wrong?" he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"It's silly." She sniffled.

"Tell me, please. You can tell me anything." he begged.

"...Calliope. I just feel so...inferior. I mean- She's a goddess, a muse and I'm just...me...you could have anyone else." The words were whispered.

"Oh My love, " He stayed on his knees, "Look at me please, it's you, it's always been you and always will be. She is in the past. Hell, look at me, do you see me kneeling for anyone else?" He reached up a hand and caressed her face.

She shook her head as he wiped her tears and she allowed a small smile to slip through.

"There's that beautiful smile...my sweet, beautiful, girl."

Masterlist

A/N: Requests are open and encouraged!!

#the sandman fanfic #the sandman X reader #morpheus X reader #dream X reader #dream of the endless X reader #king of nightmares X reader #thebigsl33p #lord morpheus x reader #dream x reader

[thebigsl33p]

I Am No Mother, I Am No Bride, I Am King

A/N: This one's a bit different from the usual stuff, a bit less fluff and more...worship? I don't really know how to describe it but ya girl's a Florence fan.

TW: mild g0r3, description of blood, going blind?/willingly blind?

When The Dreaming received a Queen there were massive celebrations, festivals and parades, feasts and parties.

And at the top of it all was The King and Queen of the Dreaming, Morpheus and Y/N. On the day of their wedding it was all smiles and sweetness. They had been lovers for a long time, and waiting for this day even longer.

The better half of Morpheus' siblings even joined the celebrations, Delirium and Death having a wonderful time. Even Destiny dropped by to offer a gift (a lovely set of matching necklaces that would be worn for the rest of the time), and his congratulations.

And they were sure that Desire had gifted a little something...

It was all fabulous and amazing for the first couple of hundred years, ever second of ever day savoured and cherished. But that was before the day Morpheus disappeared, before the day Y/N changed...

He had been gone for a long time when the change finally happened, The Dreaming had crumbled and there were very few citizens left, only fifty years into his absence.

Y/N had been doing her research. As queen of The Dreaming she had power over it, but not enough to restore it to it's beauty. But she would do if she turned herself into something more.

So she did.

She ran to Lucienne, the palace librarian, and told her of her plan. That she would demand an audience with the fates, offer them a gifts of extreme importance in return for power. The fates were stronger than the Gods, and it seemed likely that if anyone was to understand her situation it would be them.

But of course, Lucienne questioned her plan. What if the fates didn't accept? What gift would she give them that would be good enough?

Y/N simply told her not to worry about it.

But when she returned to the dreaming, Lucienne waiting for her in the throne room, the librarian didn't know what to say.

She watched as her queen fumbled her way towards her, head hung low in despair and agony.

"My Queen? Are you alright? Did it work?" Lucienne gently hooked her arms under Y/N's and hoisted her up, and when she caught a glimpse of her face she gasped.

There was blood streaming down her cheeks, old and new. Slashes ran deep through her skin, her eyes, marring the white and the E/C, turning them milky white and bloodshot, "It's all they wanted." She heaved, "All they wanted was my vision, my sight." her hands wandered around her face, "I can feel it all Lucienne, I can feel all of The Dreaming, all that he has made, I can feel leftover traces of him..."

Lucienne didn't know what to do, but the best she could say was, "My lady, we should get you to the infirmary."

***

Within two weeks The Dreaming was up and running again, Dreams and Nightmares returning, the palace and the kingdom shimmering with hope.

And despite the fact that Y/N couldn't see it, she sat on that throne with bandages wrapped around her eyes and her nails dug into the wood and she felt. She could feel the very essence of her re-built dreaming coursing through her veins and she understood the burden Morpheus had to carry.

Over time it hardened her, and when Morpheus finally returned, neither the king nor Queen of the dreaming would be the same.

Masterlist

there will be part two bcs also doing a Wife!Death X reader bcs I love her sm she is the loml

#the sandman X reader #morpheus X reader #dream of the endless X reader #morpheus #dream #lord morpheus #lord morpheus X reader #the sandman #king of nightmares X reader #thebigsl33p

[thebigsl33p]

Our Last Summer

A/N: Hello! It's been so long since I posted something, oh my God! It is my birthday on Sunday, but I thought I'd pump out loads of work. There will be another fic coming out soon with a similar title but instead with "I can still recall Our Last Summer" and that will be a Lockwood and Co. Fic (book based. I loved those books but Skulduggery Pleasant comes first. British schoolgirl things.) So Yeah... It will probably be an Anthony Lockwood X Reader!

Morpheus remembers that summer so vividly.

When he closes his eyes he can still smell the oranges, can still see her stretching up to pull them off the tree and her fingers messily digging into the skin, juice trickling over her hands. It's the smell that really pulls the memory to the front of his mind.

The smell of fields. Fresh cut grass, the oranges, the spots of lavender that surrounded her as she splayed out amongst the green blades and offered him half her orange before plucking a piece of lavender, smelling it and closing her eyes.

He would let her lay there for a while, looming over her. He would watch her, take in the complexity of her hair and skin under the sunlight, the slight warmth in her cheeks and the curls of her hair, how her eyes were so dark you could barely see her iris but when the sun hit her just right they would light up with gold.

He had loved wholly, and he would love wholly again, but none of his lovers would bring the sense of comfort Y/N did. With her, life was so simple. All the decisions he had to make were so straightforward, and every single one of them was made lying in a field, with her next to him or in his arms.

Morpheus also remembers the last day of that summer.

He had waited for so long, until the sun began to set. Until the sky burned with clouds of orange and pink and blue. And then finally, on a hill in the distance, he saw a figure - a shadow. It waved slightly, gently, before it began to walk down the hill towards him and the moment she came into view he frowned.

"Where were you?" he asked, once she'd reached him.

Gently, she folded her hands in front of herself, "I must go." She said, simply.

"Go? I don't-"

"This is the last day of summer." She waved her hand to the sun which was setting in the sky, earlier than the previous days, "I must be gone by tomorrow's dawn, the first day of winter." She stared at him, the slight confusion in his eyes, "Didn't you ever wonder who I was?"

He felt stupid, staring at her with lovestruck and pained eyes. It was so obvious now. He had presumed that other personifications were myths, extinct stories that were whispered on the air, but now she was standing in front of him. The golden sun hit her perfectly, she smelt like a warm breeze, the way nature seemed to hug her.

Summer. She was Summer. And now Winter was coming, she had to go.

"Summer," he had to say her name out loud, to know that she was real and he watched the slight recognition in her eyes and the slight nod of her head, "Where will you go when Winter arrives tomorrow?"

"I don't know." She was honest, "It's always Summer somewhere. I'm always needed, I'll always have a home. I just chose to make mine with you."

"There are places where it's always Summer in The Dreaming." The words just slipped out so easily, "Come live with us." Come be with me. Stay with me.

"Really?" She let an excited little smile slip onto her face, "You mean it?"

"Yes." He nodded and took her hands, "Yes."

And that was how, a year later, the smell of Oranges haunted his throne room. Occasionally Lavender followed it or Rose. Every time it took him back to that day, that summer spent in fields and sun. Y/N, which Summer went by, had ust left the throne room, and would be back within three hours with a basket of fresh fruit and freshly baked bread from The Dreaming. True, he could just provide her with these things with a flick of his hand.

But she liked to interact with the people of The Dreaming, and who was he to deny her. Especially considering his plans to make her their Queen.

#the sandman X reader #dream of the endless X reader #morpheus X reader #dream x reader #lord morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman x readern #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #thebigsl33p #fanfic #X reader fanfic #not sure how to feel abt this icl

[thebigsl33p]

I Know You, I Walked With You Once Upon A Dream

A/N: reader is Life.

She can feel the dirt under her feet, the swish of the grass and her dress on her legs, the sun on her face and the wind in hair. There are birds chirping, a creek running.

And in the distance is a man, dark dressed and sitting on a bench under a tree.

This is Life's first dream.

She walks through the field towards the man, taking a seat on the bench in the shade and turning to face him.

"Do you do this to everyone's dreams?" She asks.

"No," he turns and smiles, "This is Life's first dream. I wanted to be here."

She nods before looking around once more, "Your creations are beautiful, Dream Lord."

"This is Fiddler's Green, completely conscious, completely in control of his own domain." He stands up and offers life his hand, "Shall we?"

There's a formality between the two beings that is hardly found these days. It's quite unusual that the two haven't met before, especially considering how Life and Dream's sister, Death, work hand in hand.

She takes his hand and they begin to walk. The field slowly but surely shifts into refined hedges, statues and fountains.

"It's nice not having to feel everything." She says and Dream raises an eyebrow, "Being Life means you feel everything. All of my creations are apart of me, as yours are apart of you. I feel the life coursing through every blade of grass, every beating heart, every little ant and spider. I feel everything from when a fly dies to when a human dies. I feel their absence and I feel a piece of me returning." She sighs, "But here...I feel normal. This isn't my creation, none of it. It's lovely."

"I'm glad." He says.

***

She dreams of Morpheus, King of The Dreaming and Fiddler's Green every night now. Life tells Death and she simply smiles.

Their relationship goes on for two months. Every night, they meet up. Sometimes they paint, sometimes they read and sometimes they just walk and chat and exist together and for the first time since Hob Gadling, Morpheus considers someone a friend.

Dream and Life are friends, and he wonders what they add up to together, perhaps Hope?

But one night, everything changes.

Instead of her usual meeting with the King of Dreams, Life is visited by a Nightmare. It lurks in the corner of her vision, guides her down a dark tunnel and once she reaches the end of it she falls to her knees.

She watches the world end. Watches all her creations burn and die and it hurts her so very much. Then she watches as her best friend and only companion for centuries, Death, perishes next to her brother, Dream, and Life realises just how much they mean to her.

She wakes up drenched in sweat, her bed sheets twisted around her and a knocking at her door. Quickly she gets out of bed and answers it.

The last person she expects is standing in her doorway and when Morpheus grabs her shoulders she is shocked, "Y/N," oh, her actual name, it's the first time he's used it, "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is there anyone in there with you?" He's looking around her shoulder, into his flat, eyebrows furrowed.

"Dream, I'm okay." She grips his hands, "It was just a nightmare."

"Just a nightmare?" His voice was dark and it rumbled through his surroundings like thunder, "It's never just a dream, it's never just a nightmare. You of all people should know that...It was a rogue nightmare of mine." he confessed, "He caught wind of my fondness for you and wanted to scare me. I am almost ashamed to say it worked."

"But I'm okay." She insisted, "Come in." She moved out of her doorway and invited him in, "Have a seat. I'll put on the kettle." There was the sound of her pottering about her kitchen before the sound of the kettle as he took a seat on her sofa.

When she returned, she took a seat next to him, "I watched you die. You, Death, all of my creations."

"I'm sorry." He said, and they sat there for a minute, bathing in the silence before the kettle finished boiling.

Life left the room and came back with two cups of tea. She handed one to Morpheus, took her seat, and spoke, "The worst part about it was not being able to do anything. Watching people I love be brutally killed, and not being able to give them a piece of me...not being able to give you life."

He felt the weight of her words, and he gave all he could offer her. He reached down into the pocket of his coat and gave her a necklace with a miniature version of his Helm on it and he handed it to her. She took it, and in return slid a golden ring off her finger, engraved with stars and plants that seemed to forever change, and handed it to him.

There was a deeper meaning in the exchange and the two of them could feel it.

Later on that night the words "I love you." Would be whispered to the darkness and to Life for the first time.

Masterlist

A/N: Requests are open and encouraged!!

#the sandman X reader #Morpheus X reader #dream X reader #dream of the endless X reader #lord morpheus X reader #king of nightmares X reader #thebigsl33p

[thebigsl33p]

Emotional Affair, Overly Sincere

A/N: All of the fics I've read have a reader who's so willing to welcome Dream back and I want a reader who is so fucking angry that he left that they're blinded by rage and they're so perfectly mortal so here it is

Y/N had been a part of The Dreaming for as long as she could remember. Once upon a time, she was a lost soul, wandering Death's realm with no concern for the laws of the universe, and eventually, she was placed into the care of The Dreaming.

At first, the ruler of the realm was reluctant to take her in, not feeling the need to have another problem on his already full hands. But upon observing the mortal woman he found that she slotted into place next to Lucienne in the library just perfectly, and that was where she stayed.

Morpheus spent a lot of time in the library, and more often than not Lucienne was busy categorising books and such. So he'd go to Y/N for help in finding something. She'd be happy to assist him, grinning from ear to ear with mortal joy as she found the book or scroll he had asked for.

In return he'd ask about the books she liked to read when she was alive and she would start off on her favourite books, suggesting and recommending title upon title. Morpheus found her enthusiasm endearing.

And that's how an overexcited mortal woman and Dream of The Endless became friends. While Morpheus would rather the word "companion" they were friends nonetheless. They spent whole weeks together walking through Fiddler's Green, creating new Nightmares and Dreams, reading to one another, or just sitting in mutual silence. It was a friendship that made Y/N enjoy (after) life and made Morpheus realise just how adventurous and wonderful Mortals could be.

But everything changes the day Morpheus disappears. She remembers that day with ease, how she had wished him well and as she had said the words there was something else in his stance and eyes. Something more than friendship...

He had leaned down, took her hand, and gently kissed her knuckle, "I shall return to you within seconds." he had promised before throwing on his Helm and disappearing in a whirlwind of sand.

...But he never returned. He never came back.

Within three months of the Dream Lord's absence, the Dreaming began to crumble and decay, Dreams and Nightmares fleeing from their homes and parts of the realm disappearing. The only people who stayed were Y/N and Lucienne, the librarians of the dreaming. And when the library disappeared, they found themselves stranded.

Y/N's attitude began to change. Once a happy and cheerful woman, she became harsh and cold to everyone but Lucienne. She let her anger consume her and by the end of it all, she was a completely different person. She had split off from Lucienne to live somewhere else in The Dreaming, a place that had appeared overnight with no explanation.

It was a forest, dark and threatening, wary of visitors to all but Y/N. Just looking at the place from the castle balcony made Lucienne's stomach turn and she watched as the figure of Y/N walked through her garden every morning and every evening...until he returned.

Upon Morpheus' arrival to The Dreaming, he explained all, his imprisonment, his captors, and his regrets. Some of the first words out of his mouth were, "What of Y/N?"

"She-" Lucienne falters before picking back up, "She lives just outside what's left of the dreaming. Really, the area shouldn't exist but I think her anger fuelled its creation." she theorises aloud.

"Anger?" Morpheus asks, walking with Lucienne through the winding streets of his city.

"...She hasn't been well." Lucienne sighs as they reach the start of the forest. It parts willingly for Morpheus and Lucienne was sure she could follow him in but...she's not sure she feels like it, "Good Luck, my lord." She whispers and then he is gone.

-

Morpheus' return comes as a shock to Y/N. She feels a presence in the dreaming and presumes it's Lucienne's doing, but when the Lord of Dreams is standing in front of her she is taken aback.

"This place isn't good for you. It's feeding off your anger." this is the first thing he says and she knows he means well: I care for you, let me help your wellbeing, but she doesn't see rationally.

"I have a right to be angry, Morpheus."

"I know-"

"You left. You left us, you left me." The words cut through him like a searing knife and he forgets who he is for a minute.

His eyebrows scrunch together and his words quieten, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry." She doesn't look up from where she's sitting in her garden as she spits the words back at him, "Lucienne and I waited for two hundred years, you finally return, and the best you can do is sorry? For Fucks sake, Dream, I loved you! I loved you and you promised me you'd be back and then you weren't!" She's standing now, so close to him he can see the tears forming in her eyes, "God...it took me so long to realise how I felt about you, it's a shame it hit me after you'd abandoned your realm." She throws at him.

She turns her back to him, "Being mortal is so...overwhelming at times. You feel everything." She tilts her head to the sun in the sky, "I waited for you, every night in this garden, to see if you would descend from the cosmos."

"I was captured," He explains and guilt hits her like a truck.

There's a beat, a minute's silence for the regret of her words to fester, before she speaks, "I'm sorry." it's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper and it's all he needs to take her into his arms and hold her close, finally with the woman he thought about every single day for two hundred years.

#dream of the endless X reader #morpheus X reader #the sandman X reader #anrgy reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #lord morpheus X reader #dream X reader #thebigsl33p

[thebigsl33p]

Morpheus angst blurb bcs I suck at titles but love the lord of dreams and angst

reader turns i

Morpheus thinks of her. She would be his first and last mistake.

He thinks of all the beautiful songs the mortals sang for her, about her. And he thinks of the many names they gave her, how she smiled when she gazed upon them. She loved them.

She loved to be one of them, to walk amongst them in the streets and to feel their air upon her skin, the sun on her face. And he loved her.

He remembers how she would sit with him, in her realm, in amongst wine and poetry and music and they would talk until the sun went down and came back up again. How freely he smiled around her.

And he remembers the day the tides changed. When the mortals’ words became poisonous and their poems sour, their instruments placed to rest and their wine undrunk. Morpheus remembers how she would fall into his arms, sobbing “What did I do?” through gritted teeth.

And he remembers how he couldn’t answer. 

He could simply hold her, with no explanation as to why mortals turned so quickly on their deities. She never asked him to help her, instead she gave the mortals more creativity, more food and wine and poems, stories, arias. But they couldn’t see nor hear her pleading, her begging for love. Because oh, how she loved them so...

Morpheus thinks of the night on the beach; the moon reflecting off the black waters and the dot of light from a ship in the distance. He feels the wind on his skin, cold and harsh. And he recalls how she had looked him, a firm goodbye, how she had placed a hand on his face and kissed his other cheek, purposefully avoiding his lips.

And then, she had removed her shawl and shoes, placed them in his arms with a whisper of “Remember me, loved one.”, turned her back on him as she began to cry, taking shaky steps towards the sea. 

And as her feet met the water, the foam and the sand, she began to dissipate, slowly but surely, into sea foam. Morpheus simply remembers watching, helpless, her shawl and shoes in his arms as his lover disappeared into the ocean. It was as if she had tumbled in and slipped under the current. And all he could do was watch.

#X reader blurb #X reader blog #morpheus X reader #dream of the endless X reader #Dream X reader #Dream lord X reader #thebigsl33p #lord morpheus X reader #the sandman X reader #King of nightmares X reader

[thebigsl33p]

Stars Hide Their Fires, Let Not Light See My Deep and Dark Desires

A/N: this is written as a half-joke for my friend

The knock comes late at night.

She knows who it is. Knows why he's there. The same reason he comes every night.

But this time, Macbeth doesn't wait. He simply pushes open the door, the fire in the hearth casting a golden glow over him. Blood. Blood everywhere, on his hands, on his face, staining his white shirt, his fingernails and his soul. He's ragged, dark eyes wild and hair askew, brow viciously furrowed. His hands are doused in blood, but they do not shake.

She's only wearing her nightgown, and her eyes widen slightly. It is not the first time he has come to her like this, furious and mad and doused in another man's blood.

He stumbles into her rooms, stumbles into her, his hands finding her jaw, smearing blood across her cheek, and without warning he kisses her. Its not soft, and its not easy, and there's a metallic scent in the air as the blood touches her skin, as his hands travel down to her hips to grip at her, to give her a gentle squeeze, so different to his anger.

#thebigsl33p #fanfic #macbeth #GCSE revision #British secondary school #crackfic #macbeth X reader #shakespeare fanfic #helloooo mutuals #Wip

[thebigsl33p]

Say I wrote a Sandman X reader howl’s moving castle AU would any read it? 

(I already have the first few chapters sitting in my drafts)

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus X reader #dream X reader #dream of the endless X reader #sandman X reader #lord morpheus x reader #king of dreams X reader #thebigsl33p