#Matthew X Eros

[living-only-for-love]

Matthew snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. He produced a rose for her and grinned, “Boo,”

@stay-out-of-my-mind-hydra

She held back a gasp when he wrapped his arms around her. Her hands instantly went to his but quickly traveled to her face when she saw the rose.

"Aw, you're hopeless." She smiled, turning her neck to peek at him.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Seven

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Nothing Explicit, Nudity, Language.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.1k

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The grand throne room of the Dreaming is shrouded in an atmosphere of unease. The usually calm and composed Morpheus sits on his intricately carved throne, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the marble in aggravation. His queen has vanished without a trace, and an uncharacteristic worry clouds his thoughts.

Lucienne, the loyal librarian, stands nearby, her face reflecting the same concern, and Matthew perches on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, his dark eyes flickering with anxiety.

“My lord, it has been two days,” Lucienne begins softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “We have searched every corner of the Dreaming. There is no sign of her.”

Morpheus’ usually serene blue eyes are stormy with frustration and fear. “She cannot simply have disappeared, Lucienne. We are bound together. There must be something we are missing.”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, shifting uneasily. “Boss, you don’t think it’s some kind of magic, do you? Someone messing with the Dreaming? Or worse, with her?”

Morpheus’ gaze hardens, and he looks down at Matthew, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought. “If she has been taken by magic, then the perpetrator will know the full extent of my wrath. But we must consider every possibility.”

Lucienne nods, stepping closer. “Perhaps we should review her last known whereabouts. Was there anything unusual in her behavior recently? Any disturbances in the Dreaming that could have indicated a threat?”

Morpheus’ mind races through the events of the past days. He has been preoccupied with the duties of the Dreaming, but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. “She mentioned feeling restless,” he admits. “She often spoke of her desire to walk in the Waking World.”

Matthew tilts his head. “Actually, boss, there was something. Just before she disappeared, she went to check out the Ocean of Dreams. There was a storm, and she thought something was wrong. She dove in to investigate.”

Morpheus’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and anger flashing across his face. “Why was I not informed of this sooner, Matthew?”

The raven flinches slightly, his feathers ruffling. “I’m sorry, boss. She told me to go get Lucienne, and by the time I got back, she was already gone and never came back up. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at the ocean after she disappeared.”

Lucienne looks thoughtful. “The Ocean of Dreams is a powerful and ancient part of your realm, my lord. If she went into it and encountered something unexpected...”

Morpheus stands abruptly, his robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. “Then she may be trapped within its depths or worse. I must go there myself.”

Lucienne nods. “I will continue searching the archives for any records of disturbances in the Ocean of Dreams. There may be something we’ve overlooked.”

Morpheus turns to Matthew. “You will gather the ravens. I want them scouring the Dreaming and the Waking World for any sign of her. Leave no stone unturned.”

Matthew nods, taking off to carry out his task. Lucienne bows and quickly departs for the library, her mind already racing through the possible texts she will need to consult. Left alone in the vast throne room, Morpheus lets out a slow breath. His connection with his queen, so strong and vibrant, is eerily silent. He cannot sense her anywhere, and that absence gnaws at him.

As he strides out of the throne room, determination etched into his features, he reaches out with his senses, feeling the vast expanse of the Dreaming. He will dive into the Ocean of Dreams himself if necessary. The thought of her being trapped, alone, fills him with a fear he rarely acknowledges.

With every step, he resolves to uncover the mystery of her disappearance, to bring her back to his side where she belongs. He will not rest until his queen is safe once more. Morpheus arrives at the shores of the Ocean of Dreams, the usually tranquil waters now churning with an undercurrent of unease. He stands at the edge, his eyes scanning the horizon, feeling the pull of the ocean's ancient magic. He will find her, no matter the cost.

Taking a deep breath, he wades into the water, letting its cold embrace wash over him. As he dives deeper, the currents grow stronger and more aggressive, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. He reaches out with his mind, seeking any trace of her presence, any clue that could lead him to her.

The depths of the Ocean of Dreams are vast and mysterious, but Morpheus is relentless. He will search every corner, face every danger, to bring his queen back. His love for her is deeper and more powerful than any magic, and he will not rest until she is safely in his arms once more.

Morpheus paces the floor of your shared chambers, the ethereal light casting long shadows across the room. His normally composed demeanor is shattered by the torment of not knowing where you are. He has scoured the Dreaming, reached into every nook and cranny of his realm, and found nothing. Even the Ocean of Dreams has turned up nothing! His thoughts race as he considers who could have caused your disappearance. His anger simmers beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

His mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, but none seem plausible. You are powerful, and the protections around the Dreaming are impenetrable. It would take formidable magic to whisk you away without a trace. He stops his pacing and runs a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a flicker of a memory—your wedding, the joy in your eyes, the warmth of your touch. He had asked you whatever you wished for, he would give you… you had told him that all you wished for, was him, and he had only fallen deeper in love with you.

He is about to turn to make another round of the room when a shimmering light appears, and you are suddenly standing in your shared bedchambers. You are naked as the day you were born with wide round eyes and shock plastered across your features. Morpheus should have been staring at the state you are in—love marks covering your body and evidence of lovemaking thoroughly coating your thighs—but memories flood his mind like a rampant tidal wave.

You wake with your face buried in a pillow smelling of marjoram and flowers. Feeling like your entire body is one big ache, you struggle to roll over onto your back and blow the hair out of your face. You blink a few times, making sure that you do, in fact, still have legs, before trying to roll to the edge of the bed. Son of a—

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself, feeling embarrassed that you are this sore from copious sex alone. Oneiros certainly has a healthy appetite for the indulgences of the flesh. You wouldn’t complain though, you haven’t seen that catastrophic glower of sadness and devastation upon his face in days. Job well done, you suppose. But you really need a bath... you glance down at your thighs and cringe. Your combined releases are smeared all over your discolored thighs, and when you stand up, you all but moan out loud when you feel it dripping from you.

“Bath, definitely need a bath,” you grimace, nearly waddling forward on what feels like newborn legs. Mustering up the strength, you take careful steps, teetering around on sore muscles. But as you make it to the center of the room, a flash of electricity runs along your skin, and your vision goes black. Floundering for a few seconds, you force yourself to remain calm until your vision returns moments later… but you are certainly not in the same place as you were a second ago.

Blinking away black dots, your eyes go round the moment you spot Morpheus standing not far from you, frozen where he stands. He looks disheveled and ill, paler than you have ever seen him. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved.

“Morpheus?” you question in a small voice, your voice cracking a little from soreness and the shock of the sudden change in surroundings. Morpheus remains still, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had thought he would never see you again, feared the worst had befallen you. The sight of you standing before him, albeit disheveled and confused, is like a caress to his tortured soul.

How many weeks has he spent looking for you after you disappeared from his bed into thin air? Endless. It was impossible to understand your sudden disappearance from Athens. He had wallowed in misery and despair, the absence of your presence weighing heavily on his heart until he ultimately moved on.

“αστέρι μου,” his voice is raw with emotion, his usual composure shattered in the wake of your sudden return. Your brain connects what is going on in his head. He is remembering you. His gaze drops to your body, and you shift as a flush crawls up your neck.

“In my defense, you seduced me first,” you softly mutter, not seeing the raging jealousy flashing through silver-blue eyes. You think, perhaps, that he would be angry at you for having sex with his past self, and he would certainly have every right to be so… but that is not what is running through his mind. All Morpheus can think about is how Oneiros has indulged in your body and repeatedly filled you with his seed. Jealousy rears its ugly head all the while the Endless can’t help but feel an intense lust for you. He wants to reclaim you from Oneiros. Right. Now.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Morpheus takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness. Then, in an instant, he is on you. His lips crash against yours in aggressive possession as a hand buries itself into your mussed hair. You can feel the intensity of his need in the way he kisses you, a mix of hunger and desperation that sends shivers down your spine.

You instinctively grab onto his shoulders, not quite expecting this aggressive onslaught but also not wanting to fight it. His kiss is raw, unfettered, a testament to the depth of his feelings. As your minds meld once more, you can feel the mixture of relief, desire, and possessiveness radiating from him in waves.

His hands move from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer. The hard lines of his muscular body press against you, reminding you of the intense passion the two of you have shared. The desperation in his kiss becomes more apparent and your own desire stirs within you. The realization dawns on you that he is trying to reclaim you from Oneiros. The clothes have to go.

“Clothes,” you barely manage to eke out between tongue-tying kisses that leave you feeling drunk. His lips never leave yours as Morpheus dissolves his clothing from his body and pulls you against his naked flesh. As he envelops your body in his strong embrace, your skin tingles with the sensation of his warm, bare skin against yours. His touch is electric, a mixture of tenderness and urgency that brings forth a whirlwind of emotions.

His hands roam over your curves, tracing every line, every contour, sending a storm of desire coursing through your veins. Each touch, each kiss, is a claim, a valid reaffirmation that you belong to him. The memory of Oneiros fades into oblivion as Morpheus' deep, silken voice whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"You are mine, and only mine," he growls, his eyes burning with possession and an intense desire to make you his own once again. It is a claim that reverberates through your very soul, leaving you breathless and completely under his control.

“For as long as you shall want me,” you return, raising your hands to cup his face. His eyes flare with intensity, fueled by the raw desire that courses through his body. He knows that his claim to you is unmistakable, yet he can't help but feel the reassurance in your words. “But I do have to ask…”

Morpheus’s eyes glow as he waits for you to air your question.

“Are you jealous?” You watch as his expression twists with a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and, yes, jealousy. It is an emotion he has kept well-hidden, but seeing it now, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"You think I would be jealous?" he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous.”

Well, shit.

Date Published: 6/12/24

Last Edit: 6/11/24

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[tleeaves]

Thank you @luciehercndale and also @faithfromanewperspective (I am pretty sure you also tagged me and I forgot to make my reply then) for tagging me 🥺 It means the world, honestly, since I don't update a lot nor write too many fics, yet I'm still remembered.

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

(All of the below are in The Last Hours fandom)

Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine 136,108 words. Work in progress. This fic is my most ambitious and it is a various x OC story (James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, and Matthew Fairchild). It's my own take on how multiple universes of the same characters work and what would happen if a time loop was created by trying to save someone who is meant to die. Basically, it's the fracturing of reality, the occasional dose of heavy existentialism and derealisation/depersonalisation, fixing of some canon complaints I had, but it all takes place during Chain of Iron. It's a re-write of an earlier and now deleted fanfic of mine called Chain of Lies. Oh, and there's romance. Everything kind of revolves around that, one way or another, even in some rather dangerous ways.

The Rain (It Rains Every Day) 7,912 words. Work in progress. This is a Beauty and the Beast AU but greatly inspired by the myth of Eros/Cupid and Psyche, as well as earlier versions of the Beauty and Beast story (the French version, as well as some others under different titles like East of the Sun, West of the Moon, which is basically Cupid and Psyche in a different font). It's got James Herondale x Cordelia Carstairs, Lucie Herondale x Grace Blackthorn, and Alastair Carstairs x Thomas Lightwood. The setting is 1900, Greece in an alternate universe where a whole bunch of the TLH cast immigrated to the country or live(d) in Bulgaria or Persia.

A Diamond On Your Pillow 1,978 words. Complete work. A crack-ship fic about Christopher Lightwood x Lara Croft because of a silly joke I had with @thevagabondexpress. I still maintain that it is the most genius of my works, even if I did not get around to writing out any of the backstory we talked about. Also, it's the strangest ship in the fandom corner right now and I am proud of that. The moment someone takes my title, I will be publishing a James Herondale x Alastair Carstairs fic and no one can stop me. Not even your mother. Heed my warning because after that it might be Peeta Mellark x Cordelia Carstairs AND I WILL DO IT.

Love, We Did Our Best 3,354 words. Work in progress. A Matthew Fairchild x pregnant OC fic. I came up with the idea after a weird dream I had about IVF, but anyway. It takes place in France (past) and Tortuga (current story), 1906. Matthew has been travelling the world and generally avoiding Shadowhunters until he gets to Tortuga and meets a Nephilim woman with her marks stripped in exile there. She is a widow expecting to give birth to her first child in somewhere over three months. It only has two chapters so far, but it's supposed to be a cute murder mystery (..."cute" as in there's romance, but also the murder mystery itself is not actually cute, it gets quite dark).

Pride and Prejudice 2,460 words. Work in progress. It is literally just a Thomastair Pride and Prejudice AU. It has one chapter. I intend to continue it one day, but I have to refer to the book often so it's on the backburner because I am too lazy to refer to the book to write and this AU requires it. I'll get around to it eventually. Probably.

I am tagging @griddle-cakes, @sourlemons262, @zoyalannister, and @all-this-panic-still-no-disco (mostly because I know you're also fanfic writers, 3/4 of which have written also for TLH. You absolutely don't have to do this though if you don't want to.)

[stxrliasfics]

Two of Cups - Jack Hunter x Eric Matthews Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Eros's Spear

“I know myself more than you ever would."

[anxiousnerdwritings]

What are some of the DC or marvel characters do you wanna write more about?

These are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head but there are plenty of others I would love to eventually get to.

DC Characters

Midnighter/Lucas Trent

Apollo/Andrew Pulaski

Blue Beetle/Ted Kord

Booster Gold/Michael Carter

Inertia/Thaddeus Thawne

Black Canary/Dinah Lance

Talia al Ghul

Ra’s al Ghul

Punchline/Alexis Kaye

Wally West

Bart Allen

Starfire/Kory Anders

Blackfire

Superboy-Prime

Lady Shiva

Cheshire

Power Girl/Karen Starr

Darkseid

Brainiac

Two-Face/Harvey Dent

Captain Cold/Leonard Snart

Sinestro

Bane

Green Lantern/Guy Gardner

Green Lantern/Kyle Rayner

Green Lantern/Jessica Cruz

Green Lantern/Simon Baz

Shazam/Billy Bateson

Marvel Characters

Sentry/Robert Reynolds

Ghost Rider/Johnny Blaze

Ghost Rider/Robbie Reyes

Knull

Emma Frost

Cyclops/Scott Summers

Black Cat/Felicia Hardy

Elektra Natchios

Black Bolt

Medusa/Medusalith Amaquelin

Franklin Richards

Legion/David Haller

Any of the Symbiotes

Starfox/Eros

Silver Surfer/Norrin Radd

Matthew Malloy

Daredevil/Mathew Murdock

Shadowcat/Kitty Pryde

Rogue/Anna-Marie

Gambit/Remy LeBeau

Silk/Cindy Moon

X-23/Laura Kinney

Havok/Alex Summers

Polaris/Lorna Dane

Vulcan/Gabriel Summers

Angel/Warren Worthington III

Iceman/Bobby Drake

Dazzler/Alison Blaire

Colossus/Piotr Rasputin

Magic/Illyana Rasputina

Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner

Madelyne Pryor

Mister Sinister/Nathaniel Essex

X-Man/Nate Grey

Daken/Akihiro

Psylocke/Betsy Braddock

[lilpunkrock]

where you go (i will go) — iv

Summary: A visit to the Dreaming brings about new revelations and confrontations.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Words: 5.5k+

AN: Originally posted to my other account, @alittlepunkrock, I'm now uploading this to my second blog because my main is having some issues. RIP. I've mapped this story out to be a good 15-20 parts, so I hope you all will come along on this journey with me! Thanks so much - part v will be up soon!

series masterlist // mood board // ao3

. . .

“I flew solo most of the way,

Until you popped up and got in the way;

And I mean that line in a good way.”

    - hazel inside, blackbear

. . .

Part iv

“Let go,” he growls, pressing down on your throat harder. The hot tears clouding your vision are growing dark and blurry, the room around you dimming in spite of the smoldering fire beside you. You blink, trying to clear them away, but they don’t leave this time around. They persist, crawling inward, inching over your sight. The anxiety in your chest rises to a new pitch. You feel your body try to hyperventilate, only to choke on the emptiness in your lungs.

Something at the edge of your awareness calls to you, encourages you to do as he says and just let go. The rest of you bucks and rebels against it, fighting tooth and nail to hold on. Even in this moment, in spite of all that’s happening, you’re not ready to go. Not ready to leave him. You had so much to look forward to, so many plans. So much love to give. You were ready to give him it all.  It was all happening tomorrow.

The chaos in your chest reaches a fever pitch. Your heart hollows out at the thought that there will be no tomorrow for you.

As darkness envelopes what’s left of your vision, you feel his hot breath on your face one last time. “I don’t want you anymore.”

. . .

When mortals think of heartbreak, their minds typically turn to thoughts of star-crossed lovers, of loved ones lost, of relationships ended on bitter terms. As you creep through the small motel room you’ve found yourself in, tip-toeing around empty liquor bottles and haphazardly tossed cigarette butts toward the sleeping figure in front of you, you understand that heartbreak comes in many forms. You see it in the way the man sleeps slumped over in his chair, his hair unkempt, skin pale and sweaty, face covered in a gritty stubble. You feel the heartbreak in the way his fingers twitch for drink, seeking the comfort of a glass bottle even in slumber. Heartbreak is the fact that he sits in this dark motel room alone, though you can see a picture of himself, a kind-faced woman, and two young boys glowing on his phone’s lock screen. They looked happy.

Your eyes settle on the withering white, red, green, and orange attachments trailing from his heart, across the litter-strewn floor, under the motel door, and out into the night. A pale halo of blue philautia stutters around him. The solid black thread pulsing out of his chest is darker than all the shadows in the room.

Your heart sours at the sight. Ever since your assignments had been dropped at your door at midnight, you’d been flitting across the globe, trying to finish your daily duties before sunrise. Today was the day Matthew was to take you to see Morpheus in the Dreaming, and you wanted to be ready for him. The sight of the black attachment makes you all the more eager for your visit with the Dream Lord.

“Come here,” you whisper as you take the pale philia, eros, storge, and pragma threads in your hands. You hold them gently as you take a moment to ponder your choice of action. “When you wake, call your wife and sons. Be honest with them. Your wife has already found the help you need, but she’s waiting for you to love yourself enough to take it.” You pause, wetting your dry lips. Your fingers shift to trail over the weak glow of philautia surrounding him. “You may not feel you’re worthy of love. I know. But you are. You don’t have to do this alone. Accept the love they have for you. Let it sow the seed for you to love yourself again.”

As your voice trails away, the rainbow of attachments solidify and shine. The black thread remains, but seems less daunting when surrounded by a halo of radiant colors. You smile softly, pleased with your work. In the back of your mind, though, you fear it won’t be enough. What if Desire’s attachment overcomes what you’ve done?

Staring at the black thread before you, an unsettling air creeps through the room. The back of your neck prickles, hairs rising as you get the eerily distinct feeling that you and the mortal are not alone. That you’re being watched.

You spin around hastily, eyes sweeping the shadows of the room. But nothing, or no one, is there. You jump slightly at a low rumble arising beside you, only to exhale in relief when you realize the man has begun to snore quietly. With a shake of your head, you glance over the room again. Though no one else is here, you still can’t deny what your body is feeling. The sense that something is wrong.

With a run of your fingertips over the next set of names on your list, you slip into a new part of the world. The sensation slips away with it.

. . .

“Hey, uh, Lady Love? It’s me, Matthew. Remember, the talking raven? Can you let me in, please?”

“Matthew!” you exclaim with a grin. At the sound of his sharp beak tapping on your kitchen window, you toss your fantasy novel aside and jump out of your chair. Always eager to be part of the action, Theo slips between your feet as you hustle to the window. With an appropriate “Oh shit–,” you stumble forward, narrowly catching yourself on the kitchen window sill. Matthew’s large, dark eyes blink at you in surprise. With a laugh, you open the window, righting yourself as the messenger raven steps inside. “Sorry about that. Guess I should have left the window open for you, shouldn’t I?”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, stretching his wings after the long journey. You note that a new pouch of sand is tied to his leg. “Oh no, you’re fine. Honestly, I’m just glad you were awake. I told the boss– or, uh, Lord Morpheus that you might still be resting. It’s pretty early.”

Your eyes slide over to the clock on your stove, noting the time there. He’s right – it’s just barely past six in the morning, but you’d been up for hours. You were sure you’d never finished your daily assignments as fast as you had today. And without coffee, no less. It really was a shame Cliff didn’t open until seven.

As you finish setting up Theo’s food, water, and toys for the day, you make idle conversation. “So, ‘Dream?’ ‘Boss?’ That’s some friendly language. You and Dream Lord must be pretty close.”

Matthew’s dark beak inclines slightly, his inky chest feathers fluffing with pride. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean, like I said, I’m basically his best friend. Besides Loosh. Funny, when I first came along, he didn’t even want me around.”

You give Matthew a friendly grin as you finish lacing your canvas sneakers. ‘“Sometimes the people we don’t expect to need are the ones who become the most important to us.”

Matthew seems to cock his feathered head in contemplation. You extend your arm to him, and he hops on with a flutter. “Huh. You know, I like that. That’s pretty good. The next time he tells me he can handle something himself, I’ll be sure to use that one.” Your laugh rings through your quiet townhome, and Matthew ruffles his wings appreciatively. “Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” you breathe. You’d be lying if you said that your trip to the Dreaming wasn’t all you’d been thinking of for the past two days. Not only were you eager to get onto your partnership with the Dream Lord for the sake of your Realm, you were incredibly curious to see his work crafting dreams and nightmares. How did one create something so intimate, so unique to each individual, so limitless? Maybe you’d end the day with a better idea of what was going on in that tousled head of his.

“Alright, then. Matthew, Grand Messenger Raven of Dream of the Endless, first class provider of transportation, at your service.” With a caw, Matthew dips his head and snips the sand pouch on his leg with a flourish. Sand spills to your feet, settling for only a moment before it jumps to life. The vortex that forms around you is becoming more familiar, the fierce winds that whip around you less startling than your first go around. In spite of this, you still find yourself closing your eyes when the sand starts to skim your cheeks.

When the winds have died and you hear the sand whisper against the floor, you open your eyes to find yourself in the Library of Dreams. Though you’ve seen it before, its majesty is not lost on you. A slow smile warms your face as you turn in a slow circle, drinking in the sight. “This place is incredible,” you murmur.

Matthew hops from your arm to perch on a tall stack of books sitting on one of the tables. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty awesome if you like books and all. Which, by the look on your face, I’m guessing you do. I wasn’t much of a reader in my life as a human, but I’m gaining a better appreciation for them now,” Matthew says. Though his face gives nothing away, you can hear the grin in his voice. The sound of soft footsteps sound behind you, and Matthew’s attention flicks that way. “Hey, Loosh!”

You spin to find Lucienne emerging from one of the breaks in bookshelves behind you. Each room is filled with so many books that the spaces between the shelves are almost camouflaged. Her dark eyes smile as they land on you. “Ah, Miss Love. Welcome back to the Dreaming.” Her dark lips pull upwards, her expression open and kind. “I trust your journey went smoothly?”

“Oh, yes. Matthew is an excellent escort. And I’m getting used to all the sand.”

“I’m quite glad to hear that. Such an acclimation will serve you well here.” You chuckle softly, watching as she places a fresh stack of books on the table beside you. “Lord Morpheus is attending to some business with Mervyn, the palace’s custodian. One of our resident dreams, Fashion Thing, appears to have spilled a blood and perrier cocktail in the main hall. Quite the mess.” She shakes her head tenderly, obviously amused. “He should be finished shortly. Perhaps you’d like to peruse my library in the meantime?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Oh, absolutely.” Lucienne smiles widely, a glimpse of bright white teeth peeking through her lips. “Matthew, please inform Lord Morpheus of Miss Love’s arrival,” she requests. At her instruction, Matthew caws a, “Yes, ma’am!” and takes flight toward the colossal stained-glass doors at the end of the long hall. Meanwhile, Lucienne beckons you farther into the library, away from the throne room.

“As I informed you at your last visit, this is the Library of Dreams. The dreams and events of every human life reside here, as well as the stories they invent, published and unpublished,” Lucienne explains, her bespectacled eyes drifting over the bookshelves with adoration. “I am the keeper of them all. The entire library is organized by century and alphabetically by last name. It makes it quite easy for myself, Lord Morpheus, and any other guest to find whatever record they like.”

You nod, lips parted in awe as your gaze moves from the stories of floors above you to the long bookshelf beside you. At the top of the shelf, you find an iron signpost reading “1500s - S.” Within moments, your eyes land on the book you’re looking for, the name embossed on the thick spine in gold lettering: William Shakespeare. “Shakespeare,” you murmur, fingers slipping the book from its shelf and thumbing through the pages. “Now, this guy and I have been through some times together. He made my job easy in some ways.” You laugh, eyes drifting over the countless thoughts, stories, and dreams recorded in Shakespeare’s book. “And maybe harder in some others.”

“Oh, yes. Lord Morpheus paid a special visit to Shakespeare in his youth, inspiring two plays in particular. Lord Morpheus has been instrumental in the inspiration and success of playwrights, composers, writers, and other dreamers all throughout history.”

A small smile graces your lips as your fingers close Shakespeare’s record gently. Your mind ponders all the artists that you yourself have encountered throughout the years, so many of them inspired by love, both reciprocated and unrequited. Bach, Mozart, Austen, Goethe, and so many more. Perhaps you and the Dream Lord’s paths had crossed more times throughout history than you’d thought.

“As I said, Miss Love, my library holds all records of mortals from the dawn of time. Perhaps you should like to take a trip down memory lane with your own volu–”

“No.” The exclamation is out of your mouth before you can reign it back in. Your eyes snap to Lucienne, register the surprised look on her face. You hastily try to stamp down the rising panic in your chest, to smooth your strained expression into something more neutral. A weak laugh escapes you as you try to play off the outburst. “Ah, sorry, Lucienne, but that won’t be necessary. It’s impossible, in fact. I don’t recall my mortal name. I don’t recall anything about my mortal life, really. I lost all of that when I became what I am today.”

Liar.

Lucienne’s face softens, her dark eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, Miss Love, I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean to overstep–”

You raise your hands hastily, shaking your head. You can’t deny the guilt that gnaws at your heart in the wake of your dishonesty, but you press onward. “No, please don’t apologize. There’s really no need. You didn’t know.”

Just as you’re trying to find some avenue of conversation to change the subject, the towering doors to the throne room slowly creek open. Your attention turns, grasping the distraction like a lifeline. With Matthew perched on one cloaked shoulder, Morpheus sweeps through the doorway, walking past the many reading tables to approach you and Lucienne. As he draws nearer, you can’t help but notice the same distinct feeling you did during your first visit to the Dreaming. A hum against your skin, a whisper in the air, a pull in your chest. Having seen him in the Waking World and the Realm of Attachment now, you realize just how potent his presence is in the Dreaming. Some distant part of your mind absentmindedly wonders if you give off a similar presence in your own Realm.

When he comes to a stop a few steps away, Morpheus dips his head slightly in a polite welcome. “Greetings, Love, Deity of the Realm of Attachment,” he murmurs, his voice a rumbling timber in the expansive library. He lifts his head, blue eyes catching yours. “I trust that Lucienne made for excellent company while you waited.”

You nod earnestly, smiling brightly at Lucienne. Though she returns the gesture, you can still glimpse a lingering apology in her eyes. “Yes, thank you. Lucienne was just showing me around her library. It’s extraordinary.”

“Indeed.” With a gesture of his hand, Matthew lifts off Morpheus’s shoulder to land on a lamp by Lucienne. The Dream Lord takes a step closer to you, his long cloak sweeping the floor near your sneakers. “I regret to interrupt your exploration of the library, but we have much to accomplish before dark. It is time for us to go.”

“Alright, Dream Lord. Lead the way.”

Today, when you catch a glimmer in his eye, you’re not so sure it’s simply a trick of the light. “We shall take a shortcut today,” he says. In a flourish, he grabs the long tail of his black cloak and sweeps it over the two of you. As the fabric flutters around you, a gasp passes over your lips. Because you were right the other day - within the Dream Lord’s cloak lives an endless expanse of cosmos. Stars twinkle all around you in the midst of deep navy, a particularly dark ripple of space snaking through the sky above you. The Milky Way. The constellations glimmering around you feel close enough to touch.

Just as quickly as you found yourself in the midst of a night sky, you find yourself exiting it. As Morpheus’s cloak ripples around you, sunlight pierces through the darkness. When the night scene is swept away, you find yourself standing on the black sandy beaches of the Dreaming. The sky of Dream Country, so bright and blue during your last visit, is softer today. The sun peeks through the thinly overcast sky, casting the clouds in muted shades of warm gold. A gentle breeze slips over the waters surrounding the Dreaming, carrying the refreshing scent of saltwater to your nose.

“This is where you go to craft dreams and nightmares?” you ask, following Morpheus’s dark form as he leads you toward the shoreline. As you approach the water, the black sand becomes speckled with dark beachrock. Its surface is slick and uneven under your canvas sneakers, and you pointedly step around the rocks to keep from falling.

“It is.” Morpheus comes to a stop just before the sand transitions into beachrock entirely. You halt beside him. The waves lap up onto the shore, nearly close enough to lick the tips of your shoes. A glance downward reveals small shells in a variety of hues nestled into the nooks where the sand meets the beachrock, tiny flecks of color amidst the dark. A tan sand crab scuttles out of a pit in the rock, hustling up the beach toward the sand. You smile at the sight. “The solitude permits me to think uninterrupted, and I find that the vastness of the ocean puts me in a productive headspace for crafting.”

You nod thoughtfully as your eyes survey the waters. He’s right – standing here on the edge of everything, anything seems possible. “So, how do you start?”

The Dream Lord remains silent for a moment, his blue eyes trained on the shifting waves before you. Then, he murmurs, “It all starts with an idea.”

You consider making some kind of teasing quip, an “of course it does,” but pause. Instead, you say, “Tell me more.”

Morpheus tucks his chin between the lapels of his cloak, closing his eyes in contemplation. When he speaks, it’s with the voice of something ancient, a tradesman with eons of experience, a master of his craft. An Endless. “It all starts with an idea. What does humanity require? What may the Dreaming offer them? What shall prompt them to thrive, what shall prompt them to learn? Dreams are meant to bestow joy, fantasy, inspiration, and hope. They are a reprieve from the Waking World, a safe haven where weary humans find rest. Nightmares, too, are meant to serve humanity. Their function is to serve as a dark mirror that reflects a dreamer’s greatest fears back at them. Nightmares afford dreamers the opportunity to face these fears in the safety of my Realm, so that they may overcome them.”

You nod, soaking in this information thoughtfully. The idea that nightmares were meant to serve humanity rather than frighten them was something you had never considered before. “Do you create dreams and nightmares for each individual mortal?” you ask.

“On occasion. To do so for each individual human would require a considerable amount of time. More often, I craft a dream or nightmare with a particular function. To take a dreamer back to their childhood, to allow them to fulfill a fantasy…then, my creation may go to the dreamers and fulfill their function whilst tailoring it to that human’s lived experience.”

You mull over his explanation in silence for several minutes. As a deity whose work involves visiting each mortal individually, albeit not every day, you understand firsthand how time-consuming that can be. “Okay, so we’re creating a dream with a blanket purpose that can be individualized to different dreamers. What are you thinking?”

Morpheus raises his head. As a sea breeze ruffles his dark feather-like hair, he opens his eyes and turns to you. “You walk amongst humans daily. I should like your thoughts on the matter. What do you believe would bring them joy, reprieve?”

You blink, surprised. You had expected to be more of a passive observer today than an active participant in Morpheus’s work. Your mind quickly turns to the man from this morning. Fingers twitching for drink in his restless sleep. His family, his joy, ripped away by a vice. He must feel so alone. “Freedom,” you say. “Freedom from the vices and burdens that feed upon them. That impair their ability to be happy.”

“Freedom.” The word sounds foreign on Morpheus’s tongue. “Intriguing. I spoke with someone very recently who wished for the same thing.”

“Did they get it?”

“One might say so. Though not in the way he expected.” Morpheus dips his hand into his cloak pocket, procuring a palmful of sand. “But we shall give the humans what they desire. Freedom.”

He sweeps his arm outward, scattering sand all around you. Rather than dropping to the beach, the sands dance through the air, shifting and shimmering. The world beyond them blurs like a mirage. You blink quickly, disoriented. When you open your eyes, you are no longer standing on the beach. Instead, you’re standing in the center of a lush, rolling meadow in full bloom. Wildflowers form a sea around you, each color of the rainbow represented in a speckled tapestry. The grass stretches as far as you can see, and an endless blue sky yawns above your head. It’s beautiful.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind whips around you, sending your hair flying in all directions. It whirls around you again and again, giving you only a moment’s reprieve before it spins around you a final time. When it does, it spirals with enough gusto to lift you off your feet. Your laughter is bright and joyful as it rings over the field. Though the wind is a fantastical creature, you don’t find yourself startled or frightened. As it suspends you in the air and twirls you around, it seems almost playful.

At your side, Morpheus seems untouched by the childlike breeze. He lifts one pale hand slowly, palm facing upward. The very air around you seems to hum with life. “Freedom. A world without limitations, without burdens. Where one can feel weightless.” He closes his hand into a fist, then unfurls his fingers and guides his palm outward. Slowly, the scene around you shimmers and shifts. The glimmering sands around you follow Morpheus’s command to drift forward. They dance along his arm, around his fingers, gathering into a humanoid shape in front of you. The soles of your shoes gently return to the ground, burying themselves in beach sand once again as the meadow fades away.

A quiet gasp escapes you as you gaze at the dream taking shape before you. A collection of grass blades and petals flitting around on an invisible breeze, confined in a humanoid shape. You can see dandelion pappus gathering in two curved lines on the being’s face like fair eyelashes resting against a cheek. Chinese silver grass fans down its back like hair. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

“It will be some time before she comes to,” Morpheus says at your side. His blue eyes sweep over his creation, giving rapt attention to each detail. For the first time since you met him, there is a glimpse of gentleness on his normally stoic face. “Even dreams require rest.” After a few quiet minutes, he turns to you. “Do you have questions?”

Questions? What a ridiculous thing to ask. Of course you had questions. Your brain feels like a shaken beehive; all chaotic, curious energy with no sense of direction. There is so much that you want to know. The only coherent thought you’re able to form is, “You spend so much time inspiring others. What inspires you?”

Your question gives the Dream Lord pause. He looks down at you in silence. It suddenly occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, no one has ever asked him that question before. What inspires the one who spends all his time inspiring others?

After a long moment, Morpheus turns his gaze back to the dream in front of you. Delicate chaparral currant blooms have gathered to form soft pink lips on her gradually evolving face. “I came into existence with the first being that required rest,” he murmurs quietly. “I understand that without them, I would not have become, and cannot be. One day, when my sister brings this world to its conclusion and rest is no more, I, too, will be no more. Some of my siblings – Desire, Despair – feel that their purpose is to be served while we exist. I recognize that my function is to serve. But although I am Endless, I cannot simply do as I please. The universe craves balance, requires it. As you have a set of scales, I have my own, in a way.” He pauses, pink lips pursing. “There cannot be fantasy without fear. But I have found that both fantasy and fear alike have the capability to transform.”

Your mind races, turning his words over again and again, reading the lines between his sentences. “They gave you your life and function,” you whisper quietly. Your eyes search his face for some vulnerability, some emotion, but find none. “You want to return that gift. You want to serve them by helping them reach their potential.” His lack of response is an answer in its own way.

The two of you stand on the beach in silence for some time, lost in thought. When you finally speak again, the dream before you has sprouted two cirrus cloud wings. “So, what’s next? A nightmare?”

Morpheus gradually draws out of his reverie. “Yes,” he says slowly, voice low. “You were once human. Tell me, what do you fear?”

Though his voice is soft, the question rings loudly in your ears. Your head thrums with the pounding of your heartbeat as you turn your eye inward. Looking within yourself is something you strive not to do, self-reflection something you have pointedly ignored ever since . . . well, ever since everything happened. You had tried, of course, to ask yourself in the aftermath: Why? What could I have done differently? Pain was the only response that had echoed from the depths within you. A solitary existence was, in a way, both the cure and the contagion. Loneliness served as both a coat of armor and an endless provocation to look inward, only to find that which you did not want to see.

Your mind turns to Desire’s opposition, your conditional divinity, all that happened eons ago. You know he expects an answer. You know precisely the one to give. It feels as if there is a vice grip around your throat as you choke out, “Not being enough.”

For several long moments, the Dream Lord is incredibly still. Then, in silence, he raises one hand ever so slightly. The black grains of sand at your feet start to sway and shift, pulling away from you as if answering a silent call. You watch with bated breath as they gather slowly, building upwards into two feet, two legs, a torso, two arms, a face. At first, it’s merely a mask of churning sand. But then, a flash of color – an eye. Your eye.

As you recoil backward, a flash of white teeth gleam through the dark grains before retreating back within them. Other features start to emerge from within the sand; a nose, a cheek, pink lips. Within moments, the being in front of you has transformed its face into a flawless imitation of yours. Something primal within you rears its head in response. The nightmare’s lips draw into a smile, but not a friendly one. There is an unnatural tightness in its lips. This smile is small and cruel.

Morpheus’s words echo in your mind. Their function is to serve as a dark mirror that reflects a dreamer’s greatest fears back at them. Nightmares afford dreamers the opportunity to face these fears in the safety of my Realm, so that they may overcome them.

As you confront your own reflection, you find you only want to run.

. . .

The black sand makes for a soft cushion as you plop down with a long sigh. The beach, teaming throughout the afternoon with dreams and nightmares of all designs and forms, is now empty save for you and the Dream Lord. The dream of freedom that Morpheus created – Fawn, he named her – was the last to depart several minutes ago. Her cirrus cloud wings cut through the night sky like shooting stars as she flew away, off to deliver feelings of giddy weightlessness to the Waking World.

As you peer up at the twinkling blanket of stars above, you can’t help but wish that you’d meet her in your own rest tonight. That you could ride on her playful coattails, soaring through an endless field of green without a care in the world. But dreams and nightmares were not for immortal beings. No, you know what awaits you in your dreamless unconscious tonight. It makes you reluctant to return home, yearning to stay out just a little longer.

Despite your lack of need for sleep, you can’t deny that you do need to rest. A distinct cloud of mental fatigue hangs over your brain after the long day. You turn to Morpheus, who stands still beside you, staring up at the stars. “I can’t imagine being responsible for the dreams and nightmares of all mortals. Not just giving them a place to rest or grow, but crafting ideas to inspire them and help them progress as a society. Spurring the world on through artists, engineers, inventors . . . all of it. It must be incredibly taxing, especially after so many eons.”

Morpheus’s gaze tracks the path of a shooting star streaking overhead. The inky sky is reflected in his eyes, two pools of black with a glimmering star in each. “My function goes beyond dreams and nightmares,” he murmurs. He speaks purposefully, thoughtfully, handling his words with the same care with which he crafts dreams and nightmares. “I contain the entire collective unconscious of the universe. Such a function requires laws, boundaries, structure. To have one being preside over something so incomprehensible without these would result in nothing but chaos. It is a responsibility of considerable weight. One I am well-accustomed to bearing.”

You study him in silence. You can appreciate his dedication to his rules, his structure. You had your own to follow, and you had seen what happened when the boundaries of duties were overstepped, when power was taken advantage of. Rules provided safety, security. In the midst of a turbulent, ever-changing universe, they were reliable.

As you reflect on the day, you’re surprised to find yourself feeling calm and content. You had expected to feel anxious in Morpheus’s presence, to feel inadequate as a mere deity in the presence of an Endless. You’d expected to feel nervous about your next steps. But as you sit here reflecting, feeling the soft grit of the sand beneath your palms, you find that you’re excited about what’s to come.

“Well, perhaps I can help remove a little of that weight. Just a little bit,” you say with a small smile. With a grunt, you rise to your feet and pat the loose sand off your jeans. “So, when would you like to start this new undertaking of ours? I’m ready anytime.”

Morpheus slowly pulls his eyes away from the stars to look at you. He appraises you in silence for a moment, something you’re becoming quite accustomed to. When he raises his chin ever so slightly, your instinct tells you to anticipate a challenge. “Why not tonight?” he asks.

You return the gesture, offering him a bright grin. Grateful for an excuse to not go home yet. To avoid rest for just a little longer. “Why not?” you say. You sweep an arm outward, gaze drifting over the beach, the mountains, the ocean beside you. “Where do you want to start?”

“No, here will not suffice.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “For an undertaking such as this, we shall require a concentrated source of power to work from. For this, we must travel to the location where the veil between the Waking World and the Dreaming is at its thinnest.”

You nod slowly in understanding. “Alright, Dream Lord. Lead the way.”

Morpheus’s boots whisper through the dark sands as he steps closer. For the second time today, he sweeps the long tail of his cloak over the two of you.

And in the blink of an eye, you’re gone.

[alittlepunkrock]

where you go (i will go) - part iv

Summary: A visit to the Dreaming brings about new revelations and confrontations.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Words: 5.5k+

AN: See end of chapter.

series masterlist // ao3

. . .

“I flew solo most of the way,

Until you popped up and got in the way;

And I mean that line in a good way.”

     - hazel inside, blackbear

. . .

part iv

“Let go,” he growls, pressing down on your throat harder. The hot tears clouding your vision are growing dark and blurry, the room around you dimming in spite of the smoldering fire beside you. You blink, trying to clear them away, but they don’t leave this time around. They persist, crawling inward, inching over your sight. The anxiety in your chest rises to a new pitch. You feel your body try to hyperventilate, only to choke on the emptiness in your lungs.

Something at the edge of your awareness calls to you, encourages you to do as he says and just let go. The rest of you bucks and rebels against it, fighting tooth and nail to hold on. Even in this moment, in spite of all that’s happening, you’re not ready to go. Not ready to leave him. You had so much to look forward to, so many plans. So much love to give. You were ready to give him it all.  It was all happening tomorrow.

The chaos in your chest reaches a fever pitch. Your heart hollows out at the thought that there will be no tomorrow for you.

As darkness envelopes what’s left of your vision, you feel his hot breath on your face one last time. “I don’t want you anymore.”

. . .

When mortals think of heartbreak, their minds typically turn to thoughts of star-crossed lovers, of loved ones lost, of relationships ended on bitter terms. As you creep through the small motel room you’ve found yourself in, tip-toeing around empty liquor bottles and haphazardly tossed cigarette butts toward the sleeping figure in front of you, you understand that heartbreak comes in many forms. You see it in the way the man sleeps slumped over in his chair, his hair unkempt, skin pale and sweaty, face covered in a gritty stubble. You feel the heartbreak in the way his fingers twitch for drink, seeking the comfort of a glass bottle even in slumber. Heartbreak is the fact that he sits in this dark motel room alone, though you can see a picture of himself, a kind-faced woman, and two young boys glowing on his phone’s lock screen. They looked happy.

Your eyes settle on the withering white, red, green, and orange attachments trailing from his heart, across the litter-strewn floor, under the motel door, and out into the night. A pale halo of blue philautia stutters around him. The solid black thread pulsing out of his chest is darker than all the shadows in the room.

Your heart sours at the sight. Ever since your assignments had been dropped at your door at midnight, you’d been flitting across the globe, trying to finish your daily duties before sunrise. Today was the day Matthew was to take you to see Morpheus in the Dreaming, and you wanted to be ready for him. The sight of the black attachment makes you all the more eager for your visit with the Dream Lord.

“Come here,” you whisper as you take the pale philia, eros, storge, and pragma threads in your hands. You hold them gently as you take a moment to ponder your choice of action. “When you wake, call your wife and sons. Be honest with them. Your wife has already found the help you need, but she’s waiting for you to love yourself enough to take it.” You pause, wetting your dry lips. Your fingers shift to trail over the weak glow of philautia surrounding him. “You may not feel you’re worthy of love. I know. But you are. You don’t have to do this alone. Accept the love they have for you. Let it sow the seed for you to love yourself again.”

As your voice trails away, the rainbow of attachments solidify and shine. The black thread remains, but seems less daunting when surrounded by a halo of radiant colors. You smile softly, pleased with your work. In the back of your mind, though, you fear it won’t be enough. What if Desire’s attachment overcomes what you’ve done?

Staring at the black thread before you, an unsettling air creeps through the room. The back of your neck prickles, hairs rising as you get the eerily distinct feeling that you and the mortal are not alone. That you’re being watched.

You spin around hastily, eyes sweeping the shadows of the room. But nothing, or no one, is there. You jump slightly at a low rumble arising beside you, only to exhale in relief when you realize the man has begun to snore quietly. With a shake of your head, you glance over the room again. Though no one else is here, you still can’t deny what your body is feeling. The sense that something is wrong.

With a run of your fingertips over the next set of names on your list, you slip into a new part of the world. The sensation slips away with it.

. . .

“Hey, uh, Lady Love? It’s me, Matthew. Remember, the talking raven? Can you let me in, please?”

“Matthew!” you exclaim with a grin. At the sound of his sharp beak tapping on your kitchen window, you toss your fantasy novel aside and jump out of your chair. Always eager to be part of the action, Theo slips between your feet as you hustle to the window. With an appropriate “Oh shit–,” you stumble forward, narrowly catching yourself on the kitchen window sill. Matthew’s large, dark eyes blink at you in surprise. With a laugh, you open the window, righting yourself as the messenger raven steps inside. “Sorry about that. Guess I should have left the window open for you, shouldn’t I?”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, stretching his wings after the long journey. You note that a new pouch of sand is tied to his leg. “Oh no, you’re fine. Honestly, I’m just glad you were awake. I told the boss– or, uh, Lord Morpheus that you might still be resting. It’s pretty early.”

Your eyes slide over to the clock on your stove, noting the time there. He’s right – it’s just barely past six in the morning, but you’d been up for hours. You were sure you’d never finished your daily assignments as fast as you had today. And without coffee, no less. It really was a shame Cliff didn’t open until seven.

As you finish setting up Theo’s food, water, and toys for the day, you make idle conversation. “So, ‘Dream?’ ‘Boss?’ That’s some friendly language. You and Dream Lord must be pretty close.”

Matthew’s dark beak inclines slightly, his inky chest feathers fluffing with pride. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean, like I said, I’m basically his best friend. Besides Loosh. Funny, when I first came along, he didn’t even want me around.”

You give Matthew a friendly grin as you finish lacing your canvas sneakers. ‘“Sometimes the people we don’t expect to need are the ones who become the most important to us.”

Matthew seems to cock his feathered head in contemplation. You extend your arm to him, and he hops on with a flutter. “Huh. You know, I like that. That’s pretty good. The next time he tells me he can handle something himself, I’ll be sure to use that one.” Your laugh rings through your quiet townhome, and Matthew ruffles his wings appreciatively. “Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” you breathe. You’d be lying if you said that your trip to the Dreaming wasn’t all you’d been thinking of for the past two days. Not only were you eager to get onto your partnership with the Dream Lord for the sake of your Realm, you were incredibly curious to see his work crafting dreams and nightmares. How did one create something so intimate, so unique to each individual, so limitless? Maybe you’d end the day with a better idea of what was going on in that tousled head of his.

“Alright, then. Matthew, Grand Messenger Raven of Dream of the Endless, first class provider of transportation, at your service.” With a caw, Matthew dips his head and snips the sand pouch on his leg with a flourish. Sand spills to your feet, settling for only a moment before it jumps to life. The vortex that forms around you is becoming more familiar, the fierce winds that whip around you less startling than your first go around. In spite of this, you still find yourself closing your eyes when the sand starts to skim your cheeks.

When the winds have died and you hear the sand whisper against the floor, you open your eyes to find yourself in the Library of Dreams. Though you’ve seen it before, its majesty is not lost on you. A slow smile warms your face as you turn in a slow circle, drinking in the sight. “This place is incredible,” you murmur.

Matthew hops from your arm to perch on a tall stack of books sitting on one of the tables. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty awesome if you like books and all. Which, by the look on your face, I’m guessing you do. I wasn’t much of a reader in my life as a human, but I’m gaining a better appreciation for them now,” Matthew says. Though his face gives nothing away, you can hear the grin in his voice. The sound of soft footsteps sound behind you, and Matthew’s attention flicks that way. “Hey, Loosh!”

You spin to find Lucienne emerging from one of the breaks in bookshelves behind you. Each room is filled with so many books that the spaces between the shelves are almost camouflaged. Her dark eyes smile as they land on you. “Ah, Miss Love. Welcome back to the Dreaming.” Her dark lips pull upwards, her expression open and kind. “I trust your journey went smoothly?”

“Oh, yes. Matthew is an excellent escort. And I’m getting used to all the sand.”

“I’m quite glad to hear that. Such an acclimation will serve you well here.” You chuckle softly, watching as she places a fresh stack of books on the table beside you. “Lord Morpheus is attending to some business with Mervyn, the palace’s custodian. One of our resident dreams, Fashion Thing, appears to have spilled a blood and perrier cocktail in the main hall. Quite the mess.” She shakes her head tenderly, obviously amused. “He should be finished shortly. Perhaps you’d like to peruse my library in the meantime?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Oh, absolutely.” Lucienne smiles widely, a glimpse of bright white teeth peeking through her lips. “Matthew, please inform Lord Morpheus of Miss Love’s arrival,” she requests. At her instruction, Matthew caws a, “Yes, ma’am!” and takes flight toward the colossal stained-glass doors at the end of the long hall. Meanwhile, Lucienne beckons you farther into the library, away from the throne room.

“As I informed you at your last visit, this is the Library of Dreams. The dreams and events of every human life reside here, as well as the stories they invent, published and unpublished,” Lucienne explains, her bespectacled eyes drifting over the bookshelves with adoration. “I am the keeper of them all. The entire library is organized by century and alphabetically by last name. It makes it quite easy for myself, Lord Morpheus, and any other guest to find whatever record they like.”

You nod, lips parted in awe as your gaze moves from the stories of floors above you to the long bookshelf beside you. At the top of the shelf, you find an iron signpost reading “1500s - S.” Within moments, your eyes land on the book you’re looking for, the name embossed on the thick spine in gold lettering: William Shakespeare. “Shakespeare,” you murmur, fingers slipping the book from its shelf and thumbing through the pages. “Now, this guy and I have been through some times together. He made my job easy in some ways.” You laugh, eyes drifting over the countless thoughts, stories, and dreams recorded in Shakespeare’s book. “And maybe harder in some others.”

“Oh, yes. Lord Morpheus paid a special visit to Shakespeare in his youth, inspiring two plays in particular. Lord Morpheus has been instrumental in the inspiration and success of playwrights, composers, writers, and other dreamers all throughout history.”

A small smile graces your lips as your fingers close Shakespeare’s record gently. Your mind ponders all the artists that you yourself have encountered throughout the years, so many of them inspired by love, both reciprocated and unrequited. Bach, Mozart, Austen, Goethe, and so many more. Perhaps you and the Dream Lord’s paths had crossed more times throughout history than you’d thought.

“As I said, Miss Love, my library holds all records of mortals from the dawn of time. Perhaps you should like to take a trip down memory lane with your own volu–”

“No.” The exclamation is out of your mouth before you can reign it back in. Your eyes snap to Lucienne, register the surprised look on her face. You hastily try to stamp down the rising panic in your chest, to smooth your strained expression into something more neutral. A weak laugh escapes you as you try to play off the outburst. “Ah, sorry, Lucienne, but that won’t be necessary. It’s impossible, in fact. I don’t recall my mortal name. I don’t recall anything about my mortal life, really. I lost all of that when I became what I am today.”

Liar.

Lucienne’s face softens, her dark eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, Miss Love, I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean to overstep–”

You raise your hands hastily, shaking your head. You can’t deny the guilt that gnaws at your heart in the wake of your dishonesty, but you press onward. “No, please don’t apologize. There’s really no need. You didn’t know.”

Just as you’re trying to find some avenue of conversation to change the subject, the towering doors to the throne room slowly creek open. Your attention turns, grasping the distraction like a lifeline. With Matthew perched on one cloaked shoulder, Morpheus sweeps through the doorway, walking past the many reading tables to approach you and Lucienne. As he draws nearer, you can’t help but notice the same distinct feeling you did during your first visit to the Dreaming. A hum against your skin, a whisper in the air, a pull in your chest. Having seen him in the Waking World and the Realm of Attachment now, you realize just how potent his presence is in the Dreaming. Some distant part of your mind absentmindedly wonders if you give off a similar presence in your own Realm.

When he comes to a stop a few steps away, Morpheus dips his head slightly in a polite welcome. “Greetings, Love, Deity of the Realm of Attachment,” he murmurs, his voice a rumbling timber in the expansive library. He lifts his head, blue eyes catching yours. “I trust that Lucienne made for excellent company while you waited.”

You nod earnestly, smiling brightly at Lucienne. Though she returns the gesture, you can still glimpse a lingering apology in her eyes. “Yes, thank you. Lucienne was just showing me around her library. It’s extraordinary.”

“Indeed.” With a gesture of his hand, Matthew lifts off Morpheus’s shoulder to land on a lamp by Lucienne. The Dream Lord takes a step closer to you, his long cloak sweeping the floor near your sneakers. “I regret to interrupt your exploration of the library, but we have much to accomplish before dark. It is time for us to go.”

“Alright, Dream Lord. Lead the way.”

Today, when you catch a glimmer in his eye, you’re not so sure it’s simply a trick of the light. “We shall take a shortcut today,” he says. In a flourish, he grabs the long tail of his black cloak and sweeps it over the two of you. As the fabric flutters around you, a gasp passes over your lips. Because you were right the other day - within the Dream Lord’s cloak lives an endless expanse of cosmos. Stars twinkle all around you in the midst of deep navy, a particularly dark ripple of space snaking through the sky above you. The Milky Way. The constellations glimmering around you feel close enough to touch.

Just as quickly as you found yourself in the midst of a night sky, you find yourself exiting it. As Morpheus’s cloak ripples around you, sunlight pierces through the darkness. When the night scene is swept away, you find yourself standing on the black sandy beaches of the Dreaming. The sky of Dream Country, so bright and blue during your last visit, is softer today. The sun peeks through the thinly overcast sky, casting the clouds in muted shades of warm gold. A gentle breeze slips over the waters surrounding the Dreaming, carrying the refreshing scent of saltwater to your nose.

“This is where you go to craft dreams and nightmares?” you ask, following Morpheus’s dark form as he leads you toward the shoreline. As you approach the water, the black sand becomes speckled with dark beachrock. Its surface is slick and uneven under your canvas sneakers, and you pointedly step around the rocks to keep from falling.

“It is.” Morpheus comes to a stop just before the sand transitions into beachrock entirely. You halt beside him. The waves lap up onto the shore, nearly close enough to lick the tips of your shoes. A glance downward reveals small shells in a variety of hues nestled into the nooks where the sand meets the beachrock, tiny flecks of color amidst the dark. A tan sand crab scuttles out of a pit in the rock, hustling up the beach toward the sand. You smile at the sight. “The solitude permits me to think uninterrupted, and I find that the vastness of the ocean puts me in a productive headspace for crafting.”

You nod thoughtfully as your eyes survey the waters. He’s right – standing here on the edge of everything, anything seems possible. “So, how do you start?”

The Dream Lord remains silent for a moment, his blue eyes trained on the shifting waves before you. Then, he murmurs, “It all starts with an idea.”

You consider making some kind of teasing quip, an “of course it does,” but pause. Instead, you say, “Tell me more.”

Morpheus tucks his chin between the lapels of his cloak, closing his eyes in contemplation. When he speaks, it’s with the voice of something ancient, a tradesman with eons of experience, a master of his craft. An Endless. “It all starts with an idea. What does humanity require? What may the Dreaming offer them? What shall prompt them to thrive, what shall prompt them to learn? Dreams are meant to bestow joy, fantasy, inspiration, and hope. They are a reprieve from the Waking World, a safe haven where weary humans find rest. Nightmares, too, are meant to serve humanity. Their function is to serve as a dark mirror that reflects a dreamer’s greatest fears back at them. Nightmares afford dreamers the opportunity to face these fears in the safety of my Realm, so that they may overcome them.”

You nod, soaking in this information thoughtfully. The idea that nightmares were meant to serve humanity rather than frighten them was something you had never considered before. “Do you create dreams and nightmares for each individual mortal?” you ask.

“On occasion. To do so for each individual human would require a considerable amount of time. More often, I craft a dream or nightmare with a particular function. To take a dreamer back to their childhood, to allow them to fulfill a fantasy…then, my creation may go to the dreamers and fulfill their function whilst tailoring it to that human’s lived experience.”

You mull over his explanation in silence for several minutes. As a deity whose work involves visiting each mortal individually, albeit not every day, you understand firsthand how time-consuming that can be. “Okay, so we’re creating a dream with a blanket purpose that can be individualized to different dreamers. What are you thinking?”

Morpheus raises his head. As a sea breeze ruffles his dark feather-like hair, he opens his eyes and turns to you. “You walk amongst humans daily. I should like your thoughts on the matter. What do you believe would bring them joy, reprieve?”

You blink, surprised. You had expected to be more of a passive observer today than an active participant in Morpheus’s work. Your mind quickly turns to the man from this morning. Fingers twitching for drink in his restless sleep. His family, his joy, ripped away by a vice. He must feel so alone. “Freedom,” you say. “Freedom from the vices and burdens that feed upon them. That impair their ability to be happy.”

“Freedom.” The word sounds foreign on Morpheus’s tongue. “Intriguing. I spoke with someone very recently who wished for the same thing.”

“Did they get it?”

“One might say so. Though not in the way he expected.” Morpheus dips his hand into his cloak pocket, procuring a palmful of sand. “But we shall give the humans what they desire. Freedom.”

He sweeps his arm outward, scattering sand all around you. Rather than dropping to the beach, the sands dance through the air, shifting and shimmering. The world beyond them blurs like a mirage. You blink quickly, disoriented. When you open your eyes, you are no longer standing on the beach. Instead, you’re standing in the center of a lush, rolling meadow in full bloom. Wildflowers form a sea around you, each color of the rainbow represented in a speckled tapestry. The grass stretches as far as you can see, and an endless blue sky yawns above your head. It’s beautiful.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind whips around you, sending your hair flying in all directions. It whirls around you again and again, giving you only a moment’s reprieve before it spins around you a final time. When it does, it spirals with enough gusto to lift you off your feet. Your laughter is bright and joyful as it rings over the field. Though the wind is a fantastical creature, you don’t find yourself startled or frightened. As it suspends you in the air and twirls you around, it seems almost playful.

At your side, Morpheus seems untouched by the childlike breeze. He lifts one pale hand slowly, palm facing upward. The very air around you seems to hum with life. “Freedom. A world without limitations, without burdens. Where one can feel weightless.” He closes his hand into a fist, then unfurls his fingers and guides his palm outward. Slowly, the scene around you shimmers and shifts. The glimmering sands around you follow Morpheus’s command to drift forward. They dance along his arm, around his fingers, gathering into a humanoid shape in front of you. The soles of your shoes gently return to the ground, burying themselves in beach sand once again as the meadow fades away.

A quiet gasp escapes you as you gaze at the dream taking shape before you. A collection of grass blades and petals flitting around on an invisible breeze, confined in a humanoid shape. You can see dandelion pappus gathering in two curved lines on the being’s face like fair eyelashes resting against a cheek. Chinese silver grass fans down its back like hair. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

“It will be some time before she comes to,” Morpheus says at your side. His blue eyes sweep over his creation, giving rapt attention to each detail. For the first time since you met him, there is a glimpse of gentleness on his normally stoic face. “Even dreams require rest.” After a few quiet minutes, he turns to you. “Do you have questions?”

Questions? What a ridiculous thing to ask. Of course you had questions. Your brain feels like a shaken beehive; all chaotic, curious energy with no sense of direction. There is so much that you want to know. The only coherent thought you’re able to form is, “You spend so much time inspiring others. What inspires you?”

Your question gives the Dream Lord pause. He looks down at you in silence. It suddenly occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, no one has ever asked him that question before. What inspires the one who spends all his time inspiring others?

After a long moment, Morpheus turns his gaze back to the dream in front of you. Delicate chaparral currant blooms have gathered to form soft pink lips on her gradually evolving face. “I came into existence with the first being that required rest,” he murmurs quietly. “I understand that without them, I would not have become, and cannot be. One day, when my sister brings this world to its conclusion and rest is no more, I, too, will be no more. Some of my siblings – Desire, Despair – feel that their purpose is to be served while we exist. I recognize that my function is to serve. But although I am Endless, I cannot simply do as I please. The universe craves balance, requires it. As you have a set of scales, I have my own, in a way.” He pauses, pink lips pursing. “There cannot be fantasy without fear. But I have found that both fantasy and fear alike have the capability to transform.”

Your mind races, turning his words over again and again, reading the lines between his sentences. “They gave you your life and function,” you whisper quietly. Your eyes search his face for some vulnerability, some emotion, but find none. “You want to return that gift. You want to serve them by helping them reach their potential.” His lack of response is an answer in its own way.

The two of you stand on the beach in silence for some time, lost in thought. When you finally speak again, the dream before you has sprouted two cirrus cloud wings. “So, what’s next? A nightmare?”

Morpheus gradually draws out of his reverie. “Yes,” he says slowly, voice low. “You were once human. Tell me, what do you fear?”

Though his voice is soft, the question rings loudly in your ears. Your head thrums with the pounding of your heartbeat as you turn your eye inward. Looking within yourself is something you strive not to do, self-reflection something you have pointedly ignored ever since . . . well, ever since everything happened. You had tried, of course, to ask yourself in the aftermath: Why? What could I have done differently? Pain was the only response that had echoed from the depths within you. A solitary existence was, in a way, both the cure and the contagion. Loneliness served as both a coat of armor and an endless provocation to look inward, only to find that which you did not want to see.

Your mind turns to Desire’s opposition, your conditional divinity, all that happened eons ago. You know he expects an answer. You know precisely the one to give. It feels as if there is a vice grip around your throat as you choke out, “Not being enough.”

For several long moments, the Dream Lord is incredibly still. Then, in silence, he raises one hand ever so slightly. The black grains of sand at your feet start to sway and shift, pulling away from you as if answering a silent call. You watch with bated breath as they gather slowly, building upwards into two feet, two legs, a torso, two arms, a face. At first, it’s merely a mask of churning sand. But then, a flash of color – an eye. Your eye.

As you recoil backward, a flash of white teeth gleam through the dark grains before retreating back within them. Other features start to emerge from within the sand; a nose, a cheek, pink lips. Within moments, the being in front of you has transformed its face into a flawless imitation of yours. Something primal within you rears its head in response. The nightmare’s lips draw into a smile, but not a friendly one. There is an unnatural tightness in its lips. This smile is small and cruel.

Morpheus’s words echo in your mind. Their function is to serve as a dark mirror that reflects a dreamer’s greatest fears back at them. Nightmares afford dreamers the opportunity to face these fears in the safety of my Realm, so that they may overcome them.

As you confront your own reflection, you find you only want to run.

. . .

The black sand makes for a soft cushion as you plop down with a long sigh. The beach, teaming throughout the afternoon with dreams and nightmares of all designs and forms, is now empty save for you and the Dream Lord. The dream of freedom that Morpheus created – Fawn, he named her – was the last to depart several minutes ago. Her cirrus cloud wings cut through the night sky like shooting stars as she flew away, off to deliver feelings of giddy weightlessness to the Waking World.

As you peer up at the twinkling blanket of stars above, you can’t help but wish that you’d meet her in your own rest tonight. That you could ride on her playful coattails, soaring through an endless field of green without a care in the world. But dreams and nightmares were not for immortal beings. No, you know what awaits you in your dreamless unconscious tonight. It makes you reluctant to return home, yearning to stay out just a little longer.

Despite your lack of need for sleep, you can’t deny that you do need to rest. A distinct cloud of mental fatigue hangs over your brain after the long day. You turn to Morpheus, who stands still beside you, staring up at the stars. “I can’t imagine being responsible for the dreams and nightmares of all mortals. Not just giving them a place to rest or grow, but crafting ideas to inspire them and help them progress as a society. Spurring the world on through artists, engineers, inventors . . . all of it. It must be incredibly taxing, especially after so many eons.”

Morpheus’s gaze tracks the path of a shooting star streaking overhead. The inky sky is reflected in his eyes, two pools of black with a glimmering star in each. “My function goes beyond dreams and nightmares,” he murmurs. He speaks purposefully, thoughtfully, handling his words with the same care with which he crafts dreams and nightmares. “I contain the entire collective unconscious of the universe. Such a function requires laws, boundaries, structure. To have one being preside over something so incomprehensible without these would result in nothing but chaos. It is a responsibility of considerable weight. One I am well-accustomed to bearing.”

You study him in silence. You can appreciate his dedication to his rules, his structure. You had your own to follow, and you had seen what happened when the boundaries of duties were overstepped, when power was taken advantage of. Rules provided safety, security. In the midst of a turbulent, ever-changing universe, they were reliable.

As you reflect on the day, you’re surprised to find yourself feeling calm and content. You had expected to feel anxious in Morpheus’s presence, to feel inadequate as a mere deity in the presence of an Endless. You’d expected to feel nervous about your next steps. But as you sit here reflecting, feeling the soft grit of the sand beneath your palms, you find that you’re excited about what’s to come.

“Well, perhaps I can help remove a little of that weight. Just a little bit,” you say with a small smile. With a grunt, you rise to your feet and pat the loose sand off your jeans. “So, when would you like to start this new undertaking of ours? I’m ready anytime.”

Morpheus slowly pulls his eyes away from the stars to look at you. He appraises you in silence for a moment, something you’re becoming quite accustomed to. When he raises his chin ever so slightly, your instinct tells you to anticipate a challenge. “Why not tonight?” he asks.

You return the gesture, offering him a bright grin. Grateful for an excuse to not go home yet. To avoid rest for just a little longer. “Why not?” you say. You sweep an arm outward, gaze drifting over the beach, the mountains, the ocean beside you. “Where do you want to start?”

“No, here will not suffice.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “For an undertaking such as this, we shall require a concentrated source of power to work from. For this, we must travel to the location where the veil between the Waking World and the Dreaming is at its thinnest.”

You nod slowly in understanding. “Alright, Dream Lord. Lead the way.”

Morpheus’s boots whisper through the dark sands as he steps closer. For the second time today, he sweeps the long tail of his cloak over the two of you.

And in the blink of an eye, you’re gone.

. . . 

AN: Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for the kind words about parts i-iii. I am truly blown away by all your sweet, encouraging comments. I officially have the entire story mapped out, and we’re looking at a good fifteen to twenty chapters. I am so excited to have you all along on this ride with me and hope you come to love this story as much as I do!

I did want to let you all know that I am having some major issues with my Tumblr account. My posts aren’t showing up in tags, and I’m unable to message anyone or reply to any comments. Obviously, that’s causing a lot of problems, plus it means I can’t message those on the update list about new chapters. I sent a ticket to Tumblr several days ago, but haven’t heard back. I’m hopeful that this issue will get resolved soon, but if it doesn’t, I’m likely going to begin posting this story on my second Tumblr, @lilpunkrock. In the meantime, while I’m still trying to get things fixed, it would mean the world to me if you guys would consider reblogging part iv. Since my posts aren’t showing up in tags, reblogs are the only way to spread the mopey dream prince love right now.

Thanks so much for all you support! Love you all!

[thexdesk]

TO: SAGE (re: the X-Force)

FROM: Emma Frost

SUBJECT: Guest List & Security

Hello, darling.

It’s that time of the year once more. The Hellfire Gala is upon us and we are elated to welcome humans, mutants and all others to Mykines Island to celebrate the partnership between humans and mutants. This year, we’ll be honoring those who benefit from our medicines and petals. Of course, I’d be remiss if I did not mention the recent bombshell that Cyclops so lovingly blew up in our faces regarding the secrets of mutant resurrections. We expect people to attempt to crash the Gala in an attempt to prove a point, and as a result the Five have been prohibited from attending. They are to stay in the Healing Gardens with a chaperone at all times.

Like last year, I must thank you and X-Force the services you’ll provide to keep the event safe and secure. Unlike last year, however, I request that you do not let anyone get murdered again. What happened with Wanda Maximoff cannot be repeated. Keeping that in mind, please reach out telepathically if there is an EMERGENCY of any sort. Both myself and the Cuckoo’s will be keeping our minds tuned in.

In the meanwhile, I have attached the guest list below. Please do not let ANYONE in who is not on the list. There is one exception: foreign diplomats and politicians were sent over separately for security purposes.

Do note that many guests will be attending masks or other disguises to preserve their secret identity. Verify their identities before they access the Gates.

With Love,

Emma Grace Frost, the White Queen

ASGARDIAN -- for unity and future prosperity: korg. loki. king valkyrie. 

AVENGERS -- for their work saving the universe time and time again: bruce banner. carol danvers. clinton barton. hope van dyne. samuel wilson. scott lang. spider-man. doctor stephen strange. thor odinson. valkyrie.

CELEBRITIES -- for their accomplishments in the social and cultural world: Audra McDonald. Conan O’Brien. Dua Lipa. Eminem. George R.R. Martin. Jimmy Kimmel. Justin Bieber. Lin Manuel Miranda.  Meryl Streep. Patton Oswalt. Rihanna. Saweetie. Saya Ishii. Seol Hee. Snoop Dogg. Taylor Swift. Virginia Potts [ click for more names ].

* Please note Kanye West has been uninvited.

CHAMPIONS -- for their resilience in the face of C.R.A.D.L.E. and the promotion of change: amadeus cho. amka aliyak. joaquin torres. lana baumgartner. ms. marvel. nadia van dyne. nova. red locust. riri williams. spider-man. starling. viv vision.

ETERNALS -- for fostering new relations: druig. eros. makkari. kingo. phastos. sersi. sprite. thena.

FANTASTIC FOUR -- for their heroic acts across the multiverse: ben grimm. johnny storm. susan storm. reed richards.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY -- for their work defending the galaxy: heather douglas. gamora. hercules. nebula. noh-varr. peter quill. phyla-vell. richard rider. rocket raccoon.

HEROES OF TOMORROW -- for those who serve the future: america chavez. ghost-spider. ate bishop. ms. marvel.

HONORED ACHIEVEMENTS -- for accomplishments in their field:  daimon hellstrom. elsa bloodstone. greer nelson. hank pym. janet van dyne. jennifer walters. madame web. marc spector. michael morbius. natasha romanoff. steven rogers. tony stark. wanda maximoff.

HUMAN REPRESENTATIVES -- for fostering ongoing relationships: mary jane watson. matthew murdock. michelle jones. patricia walker. 

INHUMANS -- for unity and future prosperity: blackagar boltagon. crystalia amaquelin. daisy johnson. gorgon. karnak. medusalith amaquelin.

PLUS ONES -- for the association to someone who is more special: brian braddock (meggan puceanu braddock). cassie lang (scott lang). felicia hardy (spider-man). jack russell (elsa bloodstone). katherine bishop (clinton barton). layla el-faouly (marc spector).

SANCTUM SANCTORUM -- for their work on magical defenses: clea strange. wong.

SHI’AR EMPIRE -- for unity and future prosperity: cal’ysee neramano. gladiator. xandra neramani.

WAKANDA --  for unity and future prosperity: nakia. okoye. shuri. t’challa.

STANDY BY -- the following have received an invite during the second round and barely made the cut: barbara morse. james buchanan barnes. monica rambeau. yelena belova.

ERROR: When attempting to invite Spider-man, three invites were sent out and accepted.

MUTANT GUESTS:

alex summers

amara aquilla

angelica jones

anna-marie lebeau

betsy braddock

bobby drake

emma frost

forge

gabby kinney

gwen poole

illyana rasputin

jean grey

jeanne-marie beaubier

jimmy hudson

kate pryde

kurt wagner

kwannon

laura kinney

laynia petrovna

logan howlett

lorna dane

madelyne pryor

max eisenhardt

megan gwynn

meggan puceanu braddock

neena thurman

nikolai krylenko

ororo munroe

rachel summers

raven darkholme

remy lebeau

scott summers

stepford cuckoos

tabitha smith

xi’an coy manh

[creamecafe]

Will you put up a list on who would you write for?

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫

Last Updated: 05/27/24 3:54 AM EST

Of course!

I would write for:

[𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥]

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton

Tony Stark

Matthew Murdock

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Helmut Zemo

MCU!Tom!Peter Parker

TASM!Peter Parker

Sam Raimi!Tobey!Peter Parker

Miles Morales

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova

Bruce Banner

Jennifer Walters

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufeyson

Carol Danvers

Kamala Khan

Monica Rambeau

Darcy Lewis

Jimmy Woo

Scott Lang

Hope Van Dyne

Joaquin Torres

Mobius M. Mobius

Xu Shang-Chi

Xu Wenwu

Katy Chen

Xu Xialing

Foggy Nelson

Aunt May

Michelle Jones

Ned Leeds

TASM!Gwen Stacy

Sam Raimi!Harry Osborn

TASM!Harry Osborn

Otto Octavius

Hela Odinsdottir

Lady Sif

Peggy Carter

Agatha Harkness

Vision

Pepper Potts

Stephen Strange

America Chavez

Bruno Carrelli

Wong

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Layla El-Faouly

T'Challa Udaku

Erik Killmonger

Nakia

M'Baku

Okoye

W'Kabi

Shuri Udaku

Everett K. Ross

Baron Mordo

Wade Wilson

Maya Lopez

Kazi Kazimierczak

Maria Hill

Jack Russell

Elsa Bloodstone

Eddie Brock

Maria Hill

[𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲]

Peter Quill

Gamora

Mantis

Nebula

Drax

[𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬]

Druig

Ikaris

Makkari

Sersi

Thena

Gilgamesh

Kingo

Sprite

Eros

Dane Whitman

Ajak

[𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫]

Reed Richards

Sue Storm

Johnny Storm

Ben Grimm

[𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧]

Peter Maximoff

Logan

Rouge

Charles Xaiver

Erik Lehnsherr

Storm

Jean Grey

Kurt Wagner

Alex Summers

Sheridan!Scott Summers

Marsden!Scott Summers

Bobby Drake

St. John Allerdyce

Kitty Pryde

[𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞]

Regina Mills

Emma Swan

Killian Hook

Prince Charming

Snow White

Mulan

Aurora

Jefferson Hatter

Henry Mills

Drizella

Wendy Darling

Peter Pan

Belle

[𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐊𝐚𝐢]

Miguel Diaz

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz

Demetri Alexopoulos

Tory Nichols

Young!Daniel Larusso

Daniel Larusso

Johnny Lawrence

Robby Keene

Anthony Larusso

Young!Johnny Lawrence

[𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬]

Steve Harrington

Eleven

Max Mayfield

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Lucas Sinclair

Jim Hopper

Joyce Byers

Robin Buckely

Nancy Wheeler

Enzo

Eddie Munson

Chrissy Cunningham

Dustin Henderson

[𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲]

Naveen

Jasmine

Aladdin

Tiana

Mulan

[𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬]

Harry Hook

Mal Bertha Maleficent

Evie Evil

Jay Jafar

Uma Ursula

Gil Gaston

Carlos De Vil

Audrey

Jane

[𝐏𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐫]

Bruno Madrigal

Camilo Madrigal

Flynn Eugene Ryder

Maribel Madrigal

Isabela Madrigal

Luisa Madrigal

Félix Madrigal

Pepa Madrigal

Rapunzel

Hiro Hamada

Tadashi Hamada

GoGo Tomato

Honey Lemon

Wasabi

Fred

Dolores Madrigal

Julieta Madrigal

Agustín Madrigal

Fix-It Felix

Ralph

Maui

Moana

Elsa

Anna

Kristoff

Helen Parr

Raya

Merida

[𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬]

 Lokius (Loki Laufeyson x Mobius M. Mobius)

 Petergwen (TASM!Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy)

 Drukkari (Druig x Makkari)

 Starmora (Peter Quill/Star Lord x Gamora)

 Shuriri (Shuri Udaku x Riri Williams)

 WandaVision (Wanda x Vision)

 Cherik (Charles x Erik)

 SamBucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes)

 SpideyChelle (MCU!Peter Parker x Michelle Jones)

Sleeping Warrior (Mulan x Aurora OUAT)

StarkStrange (Tony Stark x Stephen Strange)

ValCarol (Valkyrie x Carol Danvers)

ThorBruce (Thor Odinson x Bruce Banner)

Zenmasters (Jackie Burkhart x Steven Hyde)

Wenclair (Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair)

[𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬]

Wednesday Addams

Xaiver Trope

Tyler Galpin

Enid Sinclair

Ajax Petropolus

Eugene Otinger

Bianca Barclay

Yoko Tanaka

Rowan Laslow

[𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞]

Tim Bradford

Lucy Chen

John Nolan

Angela Lopez

[𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐧 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞]

Jake Peralta

Any Santiago

Rosa Sanchez

Basically, I write a LOT of different characters from different fandoms. I'll update this list if I watch a new show or movie or have an interest in a character

You can also add inserts like in my Request Guidelines to these characters.

[double-knots-archive]

@thcsevoices​ said:    ❤ ((👀))

Hey send me a heart and I’ll write up some possible ships between my muses and yours because yeah

OKAY Let’s go!!!

This will be under a cut cause ,,,there’s a lot of muses lmao

Romantic ideas are marked with a *

All other things are non-romantic (platonic, enemies, family, etc) ideas that we can totally work out if anything seems good

( notes about ideas are in parenthesis if I have any lmao) 

Note: These are not ALL the possibilites. This is just what I could think of off the top of my head lmao (Also it was so tempting to write ‘all’ on a few of these but i stopped myself lmao)

Hector: Alice (i do have a verse where hector adopts her s o), Nightingale, Robin, Ellery

Lance: Alice, Nightingale, Robin*,,  Ellery

Matthews: Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Nuru: Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Quirin: Alice, Nightingale, Robin* (She has a thing for older men, so),  Ellery

Varian: Alice*, Nightingale, Robin,   Ellery

Vex:  Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Zhan Tiri: Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Callum: Alice, Atlas,  Petal, Annella,  Ellery, Mira, Bai, 

Wakko: Cyra, Elliot, Kit* ( they’d totally have a crush on wakko), Arlo, Ash, Aurore, Valerie

Zuko: Aura* (listen im a simp for canonxoc okay), Dallan, Bai

Dawn: Caroline* (,,,im just saying), April, 

Alberto: Capri*

Barley: Alice, 

Eilonwy: Alice, Bai,

Felix: Alice, Caelan, Eros, Killian, Hayden, Any of my disney muses

Kronk: Alice, Caelan, Eros, Killian, Hayden, Any of my disney muses

Luca: Capri*

Mowgli: Aura, 

Peter: Alice, Killian, Hayden, Eros, Caelan, 

Ursula: Killian, Caelan, Eros, Hayden (I think he’d hate her and it’d be fun)

Amity: Jinx, Xia

Dipper: Rita

Eggs: Back, Katie, Morty, Rita, 

Glluntz: Nobody* (It’s a possibility. Cop x Badguy, com’n)

Jojo: Nobody (THATS THEIR KID)

Betty Boop: Cyra (She’d be inspired to hell by her)

Snufkin: Aamu* (im a weakling)

Daisy: Valerie* (forget donald, let the girls date),  Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Dewey: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot*, Kit*

Gosalyn: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

June: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Launchpad: Valerie*, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Louie: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit*

Lyn:  Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Magica: Valerie, Aurore*, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Mark: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Bernard: Clarke

Wayne: Clarke* (I can see it ope)

Cousin Mel: Clarke

Lock: Jacklyn, Skyler, Walker, Seine, 

Shock:  Jacklyn, Skyler, Walker, Seine,

Barrel:  Jacklyn, Skyler, Walker, Seine,

Artemis: Alice, Nightingale, Robin*,  Ellery

Andromeda:  Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Beatrice:  Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery

Hannei: no idea who, cause I don’t know hero academia stuff lmao

Hilde: Bianca* for sure, im sure there’s others 

Jareth: Jinx, Xia, Capri

Jenkins: Jinx, Xia, Capri

Millie: Valerie, Aurore, Arlo, Ash, Cyra, Elliot, Kit

Saros:  Alice, Nightingale, Robin,  Ellery, and im sure others but ersfdssgh 

Kin: i know exactly 0 things about zelda, but uhhh all my muses will adopt them lmao

Mikia: no idea about their source, but uhhh i think they and mira would get along

[askmcsmnextgen]

Third and Fourth Generation

Muse x Rachel- Admin Family 

Dominic 

Matthew 

Christopher 

Naya- Admin 

Tegan (Jordan) 

Grace- Hodgman Family 

Sara (Jordan) 

Jordan x Kiki- Reubens Family 

Myra 

Melanie 

Francis x Songbird- Feldman Family 

Blayke 

Scylla, Charybdis, Freya, Medea, and Iris 

Eros x Zahra- Tatasciore Family 

Samuel 

Moses 

Jerome 

Louis 

Jack Jr. x Rawlings- Tatasciore Family 

Arthur 

Oliver 

Reana, Horus, Seth, Victor, Victoria, and Pluto (all deceased) 

Tybalt x Mercutio- Admin Family 

[living-only-for-love]

announcement by Eros

Um, hello others and New York. As some of you know, I am the Winter Soldier's handler. Granted, I was used by HYDRA just as much as my others. But I have decided of my own will to renounce HYDRA. I will live my own life.

And I am releasing @iwasmadetobeasoldier from my control. He is free to live his life as well and I wish him and his family the best.

I will be spending the rest of my life with @stay-out-of-my-mind-hydra, the love of my life.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter One

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Language, Time Travel.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.9k

Masterlist | Next

You spent a lot of time staring at the throne adjacent to the intricately carved marble one depicting the helm of Dream of the Endless. It was more feminine, carved out of the same marble as the Morpheus’, but designed with a softer touch. It was a marble forest, twisting branches and flowers that were inspired by Fiddler’s Green, your fingers always ended up tracing little grooves and bumps absentmindedly.

“Hey boss lady,” You turned your head in time to see Matthew fluttering his way up to your shoulder. His feet clutched the fabric of your sweater and shuffled his wings, looking at the two thrones. “You know you’ve been married for like, two months… right?”

“Distinctly,” You answered dryly, having very vivid memories of your wedding night. You hadn’t left the bed for three days, and then couldn’t walk right for three weeks. Morpheus had been very smug with the way you hobbled around, while you felt like crawling into a hole in embarrassment. You’d married a voracious Endless that aspired to paint every millimeter of your body with his love, and ensure that everyone knew it. “But it’s not like I was born knowing I was going to marry an Endless and become the queen of a realm.”

“True, true,” Matthew echoed with a bob of his head. “But ma’am, has anything actually changed in your life? Ignoring the fact that you live here now…”

You thought about Matthew’s words. Not much had changed in your life save your happiness. You had only ever really felt happy when visiting the Dreaming, so there wasn’t much you missed in the Waking. The people in the Dreaming themselves had always gone to you for advice now that you thought about it. They felt confident speaking to you about their problems… so you had been their queen long before you became their official one.

“No, nothings really changed… and it’s just a title,” You mused softly walking towards your throne and running your fingers along the warm marble. Warm and cool, just like you and Morpheus. You were an unusual pairing and not one that you’d think would work in the first place. “Alright, I’ve stared at the thrones for long enough, it’s time to go outside and touch some grass.”

“Ya know I think Lord Dream could touch some grass time to time,” Matthew muttered from your shoulder. “He’s been kinda uptight lately.”

“Probably cause of all the changes, you know he likes things certain ways,” You said dryly, thinking back to all the arguments you’d gotten into with him just because he was being a giant dunderhead who didn’t want to listen to you and pretended that your opinion and decision didn’t matter.

“Yeah you might be onto something,” Matthew chirped in agreement. Exiting the palace, you wandered through the gardens while letting your fingers brush along the flowers and bushes of the garden. “But at least he’s trying!” Matthew added, trying to be positive about his boss.

“He got pissy with me because I wanted to take a walk in London by myself after we had lunch with Hob,” You couldn’t help but point out. “It was London, in the middle of the day when families were having picnics!”

“And we both know humans can be assholes,” Matthew reminded you. “The boss doesn’t have a lot of good experience with mortals to go off of.”

“Pretty sure I have more experience in the human department than he does?”

“Point,” The raven agreed, taking off and swooping through the limp branches of the weeping willow in front of you. You passed beneath the little tunnel of gnarled branches carefully grown and kicked out your foot. You’d been feeling antsy lately, cooped up and in need of stretching your limbs. Maybe you’d go for a swim? Morpheus didn’t exactly like you swimming in the Ocean of Dreams, but you and the entity had a pretty good relationship and she didn’t try to drown you when you went swimming. “He’s still gonna throw a tantrum.”

“And I dare you to say that to his face,”

“I’ll pass I like having feathers… and living in general...” Matthew shuddered to think what Morpheus’ reaction would be of learning he’d said that.

“It would be funny though,” You giggled to yourself, imaging the initial confusion that would cross Morpheus’ face… then perhaps just a hint of an eye tick, then the whole: you dare… Your husband was entirely too predictable at times and you found it very amusing. You were deaf to Matthew’s disgruntled grumbles and continued walking, not realizing that your feet were carrying you towards the beaches of the Ocean of Dreams.

“Holy shit,” Matthew’s curse behind you jarred you from your thoughts. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had caused him to curse, the Ocean of Dreams was churning in unhappiness. High above violent waters were storm clouds, flickering with lightning and letting out echoed of thunder. “Uh, you ever seen this before ma’am?”

“No,” You informed the raven, trying to see if you could feel what was wrong to have the Ocean of Dreams so agitated. “Matthew return to Lucienne, speak with her about this matter. Surely she has a clue.”

“Right on it, boss lady,” Matthew called before surging into the air and flying back to the palace as fast as he could. While Matthew was doing as you asked, you quickly hurried up to the waters edge. Oh yes, something had agitated the Ocean of Dreams, she was not happy. Without hesitation, you strode into the cold water, determined to figure this out. Morpheus was away on business, you could handle this, you could handle this.

When you were waist deep, you dove deeper, fully submerging yourself. The water, while a usual chilly cold, seemed to be colder than normal. Even the currents were stronger, more aggressive. You tried to look around for the physical manifestation of the Ocean in the form of your shadow figure, but you couldn’t see her anywhere. A smattering of bubbles escaped your lips as you sighed in frustration and swam further towards the depths. In your efforts to hunt down the physical manifestation of the Ocean of Dreams, you failed to notice that the currents were getting far too strong for you to swim through.

Now, you didn’t need to breathe oxygen thank to Morpheus making you immortal… but it wasn’t exactly comfortable holding your breath, or accidentally inhaling the salty water. So when your body began getting tossed and turned like you were in a hamster ball and it was being shaken, you started panicking. Floundering, the water around you began shifting from chilly cold to warm… and then back again. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Your arms cartwheeled through the salt water until the temperature stayed warm and a bright light appeared. The storm must have finally disappeared!

You kicked your way towards the surface, hoping that Lucienne would know why the Ocean of Dreams had gotten so upset and the weather so irritable. The moment your face broke the surface you knew that something was very wrong.

First, it was way to hot for you to be in the dreaming. Second, it didn’t sound like you were in the dreaming. Third? When you opened your eyes you were most definitely not in the Dreaming!

“Ah shit,”

You spent a solid five minutes panicking about the fact that you were most definitely not in the Dreaming anymore. Morpheus was going to go ballistic when he found out. Then your panic increased because you didn’t know where you were, and you were in the middle of an ocean! At least you could see land, but it was a distance away from you. Still coming to grips with what you were dealing with because hello, some magic fuckery had just occurred and you were not kosher with it, you paddled towards a weird looking boat in the distance.

As you grew closer, you could hear shouting in a language you didn’t quite understand, and the sounds of screaming. Focusing on the words, the power Morpheus imbued within you shifted the strange words until you could understand them. Greek. A child had fallen overboard. Your eyes dropped to the water and you spotted a dark haired child splashing around violently. You didn’t think twice about quickly swimming towards the child as they disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Dipping back below the oceans surface, you swam your way over to the squirming child, a girl. She was wrapped up in a beautiful white cloth that was currently hindering her ability to swim. You made to her and wrapped your arms around her thin body before looking up and kicking your way back to the surface. When your head broke the surface, you made sure you pulled the child up so her head too, was above the choppy waters.

She was clutching your forearm in a death grip, nails digging into your flesh. You were glad that she wasn’t trying to claw her way on top of you. Spitting out ocean water you’d accidentally swallowed, you began carefully side stroking your way over to the odd boat. You weren’t sure what was going to happen, given that people didn’t just appear it the middle of the ocean. As it turned out, luck was on your side and the greeks who hauled you and the little girl up onto the ship were entirely convinced that you were some lost noble… all because of of the clothes you wore.

Apparently only the rich and noble people of Greece could afford to wear purple clothing.

The boat was taking the little girl, a daughter of one of the nobles in Athens (how the hell did you end up in Ancient Greece?), home after visiting her aunt in Crete. She’d accidentally tumbled over the side and now refused to let you go for fear of a repeated event. So you were awkwardly standing around in your ‘strange clothes’ while the little girl held onto you like a baby monkey. At least when the boat docked at the harbor of the ancient city of Athens, in all its blazing glory, you were offered a cloak to cover your strange clothing.

Clearly the little girl you’d rescued came from a very rich family, because the carriage that you’d been herded into was lavish. You sat inside it while warriors on horses surrounded you, and spent a good twenty minutes trying to think of what the hell you were going to do, let alone say, because this was way out of your realm of expertise.

“What is your name?” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Well, they already thought you were some lost noble or princess… might as well play it off as some greek god blessing or something… hopefully the gods wouldn’t be too upset with you. Not that they would be able to raise hand towards an Endless’ wife…

“You may call me Elpis,” You told the little girl. “What is yours?”

“Kynna, are you the great spirit Elpis mama told me about?” Soft brown eyes gazed at you with such reverence, you wanted to say yes and make her dreams come true. But you couldn’t exactly claim to be someone you were not. You stroked your hand over her still damp hair.

“I’m afraid it is only a name sake,” You replied, lifting your gaze to see several grand buildings pass by as the carriage rattled and shook. “I was lost at sea but the gods brought me to you.”

“Well if you’re lost… you can just live with us while we find your family!” Kynna exclaimed with a wide beaming smile. “Panathenaia is starting tomorrow, they’ll be lots of parties and pretty dresses, and we get to give a new peplos to Athena!”

“I don’t think that will be up to me,” Your words didn’t hinder the excited babbles of Kynna, and while she continued to talk animatedly, you mulled over what you were going to say when you got to your destination.

You didn’t have to say much, the greek noble woman of Kynna’s family, along with the other aristocratic women from surrounding families living in the housing surrounding the communal living space and baths, were entirely convinced you were an aristocrat who had some how fallen overboard and lost most of her memory. You were fine playing amnesiac as it meant less questions. You just had to get used to a different lifestyle while you tried to figure out what the hell had happened to you.

A circle of woman around your age, Merope, Agapia, and Helike, had taken you under their wing while servants scurried about in preparation for the Panathenaia. Your modern clothes had been ditched for a silk peplum that draped around your body and showed skin in several places, and you’d been adorned with a multitude of jewelry by Kynna’s father for saving his little girl. In essence, you looked exactly like the woman everyone thought you to be: Elpis, a greek aristocrat with amnesia.

You’d spent the first couple of days hiding out in Kynna’s household, not sure of yourself and not wanting to make trouble for the family, but your trio of new friends had convinced you to come out to the communal space on the promise of seeing several handsome men and enjoyable drink and food. Eye candy and snacks, you were down for that. So you were walking with your gaggle of friends and contributing to the objectification of several fine greek men who had arrived home for the Panathenaia, when Merope had wanted to visit the sun room to see what special guests had arrived.

“Oh I heard Theos returned from Sparta looking for a wife.” Agapia gushed as she combed her fingers through her hair.

“Forgive me for not immediately fawning over this Theos… who is he?” You asked as Merope and Helike giggled.

“He’s Athen’s most prized warrior, competed in the last Olympic Games and won several events.” Agapia explained to you as your group walked beneath a trellis tunnel of roses. She went on to explain, in detail, every millimeter of the specimen known as Theos and by the time Helike was telling Agapia to stop drooling, you were very interested in seeing if this Greek was as handsome and strong as he sounded.

“Oh don’t stop now, you’ve gotten me interested,” You mused with a soft laugh while passing a group of men who eyed each and everyone one of you. Your laugh was like a gentle bell softly ringing and easily drew eyes. Helike rolled her eyes, Agapia was oblivious (far too busy drooling), and Merope fluttered her eyelashes but stayed silent.

“I am sure there shall be a man at the festival who willwin your hand, Elpis,” Agapia said while holding her hands to her chest. “Because while we all know that you’ve got heads turning, you appear to have very little interest in those we have crossed paths with so far. Mark my words, you shall find someone you desire by the end of Panathenaia.”

You rolled your eyes, you’d humor the women. They’d been so kind and generous to you despite you being a total stranger… but it wasn’t like you could admit that you were already married, and didn’t even belong in this era.

“As you say, Pia,”

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” Merope gasped quietly the moment you entered a large room with many lounging chairs and dozens of greeks laying about. You hummed in question and looked at her. “Lord Oneiros has decided to be in attendance!”

Something perked up within you at the mention of Oneiros, and your head snapped to the dark haired beauty in confusion.

“Sorry, did you say Oneiros?” You asked, your voice coming out in an odd tone. You’d heard that name before, when Morpheus had assisted Calliope upon hearing her call. She referred to him as Oneiros. Morpheus was Oneiros. How could he be here? The girls gathered around you and gestured to a corner of the room. Your eyes followed and you felt your heart freeze your chest. This wasn’t possible, was it?

How could it be that your dark and broody husband, was sitting in the corner of the room dressed in robes of black, complete with a laurel crown perched upon his midnight curls? You trembled in place, fighting against the urge to charge forwards and throw yourself at him because you really missed your husband and just wanted to go home. But as you gazed at the Dream Lord, you began picking up on his mood, his temperament. He was surrounded by a cloud of pain that you could feel in your heart, deep within his beautiful blue eyes was a raw hurt that nearly pulsated from his being. Oh. Oh fuck. Ancient Greece… Calliope the Muse… Orpheus. As if feeling your stare, sharp blue eyes shifted and met yours. No recognition could be found within their depths. He didn’t know you. But he was intrigued.  

“I wonder who the lucky women will be this year,” Agapia softly wondered, the other two agreeing with her sentiments. “They say he is a voracious lover, indulging in the delights of many before finally picking the ones he desires.”

A dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly accompanied by the smallest of smirks, and something within you cracked. He was Morpheus, but he wasn’t yours. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and quickly tore your eyes away from those of the Dream Lord.

“We should fill our bellies before the rest of the men arrive, the gods know they’ll eat it all,” You rushed out, your heart pounding in your chest painfully. Herding your friends in the opposite direction of Oneiros, you were desperate to get away from the being that you, one day, would call yours. 

Date Published: 12/30/23

Last Edit: 12/30/23

Masterlist | Next

[scientificphilosopher]

Book List 2018

I’m a couple weeks behind on this, but here’s the list of books I read in 2018. I’ve broken it down by category, though this is pretty loose since, you know, genres bleed into one another and such. You can also find reviews of some of these books here, and I always take requests for reviews as well. Follow me on Goodreads to see what I’m reading and rating. 

Let me know what you think if you’ve read any of these books or have recommendations, and, as always, please feel free to send me malicious personal attacks if I say something you disagree with.

Non-Fiction

Philosophy

Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric by Charlene Haddock Seigfried

The Pragmatic Turn by Richard J. Bernstein

Race Matters by Cornel West

Democracy Matters: Winning the Fight Against Imperialism by Cornel West

American Philosophy: A Love Story by John Kaag

Ethics Without Ontology by Hilary Putnam

Meaning in Life and Why It Matters by Susan Wolf

The Variety of Values: Essays on Morality, Meaning, and Love by Susan Wolf

The Really Hard Problem: Meaning in a Material World by Owen J. Flanagan

Meaning in Life by Thaddeus Metz

The Human Eros: Eco-Ontology and the Aesthetics of Existence by Thomas Alexander

Naturalism and Normativity by Mario De Caro (Editor), David Macarthur (Editor)

Truth in Context: An Essay on Pluralism and Objectivity by Michael P. Lynch

Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom by bell hooks

The Origin of Others by Toni Morrison

Experiments in Ethics by Kwame Anthony Appiah

Ethics in the Real World: 86 Brief Essays on Things that Matter by Peter Singer

The Ethics of Ambiguity by Simone de Beauvoir

A Very Easy Death by Simone de Beauvoir

The Story of Philosophy: The Lives and Opinions of the World's Greatest Philosophers by Will Durant

Why Buddhism is True: The Science and Philosophy of Enlightenment by Robert Wright

A Defense of Buddhist Virtue Ethics by Jack Hamblin

Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh

The Infidel and the Professor: David Hume, Adam Smith, and the Friendship That Shaped Modern Thought by Dennis C. Rasmussen

The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World by Dalai Lama XIV, Desmond Tutu, and Douglas Carlton Abrams

Reality, Art and Illusion by Alan Watts

Democracy and Social Ethics by Jane Addams

Common Sense by Thomas Paine

From Bacteria to Bach and Back: The Evolution of Minds by Daniel C. Dennett

Science

Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst by Robert Sapolsky

The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs: A New History of a Lost World by Stephen Brusatte

Why Dinosaurs Matter by Kenneth Lacovara

I Contain Multitudes: The Microbes Within Us and a Grander View of Life by Ed Yong

The Evolution of Beauty: How Darwin's Forgotten Theory of Mate Choice Shapes the Animal World—And Us by Richard O. Prum

Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal by Mary Roach

Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife by Mary Roach

Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach

She Has Her Mother's Laugh: The Powers, Perversions, and Potential of Heredity by Carl Zimmer

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari

21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harari

Caesar's Last Breath: Decoding the Secrets of the Air Around Us by Sam Kean

Why Evolution is True by Jerry Coyne

What Is Real?: The Unfinished Quest for the Meaning of Quantum Physics by Adam Becker

Brief Answers to the Big Questions by Stephen Hawking

Seven Brief Lessons on Physics by Carlo Rovelli

The Physics of Time by Carlo Rovelli

Physics of the Impossible: A Scientific Exploration of the World of Phasers, Force Fields, Teleportation, and Time Travel by Michio Kaku

The Spinning Magnet: The Force That Created the Modern World--and Could Destroy It by Alanna Mitchell

Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space by Carl Sagan

Visions for the 21st Century by Carl Sagan et al.

The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee

What the Dog Saw and Other Adventures by Malcolm Gladwell

The Soul of the Night: An Astronomical Pilgrimage by Chet Raymo

The Virgin and the Mousetrap: Essays in Search of the Soul of Science by Chet Raymo

Politics/Race/Gender

The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love by bell hooks

Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture by Roxane Gay (editor)

Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Brittney Cooper

Women & Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

I Am Not Your Negro by James Baldwin

The Origin of Others by Toni Morrison

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson

Race Matters by Cornel West

Democracy Matters: Winning the Fight Against Imperialism by Cornel West

Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America by Ibram X. Kendi

The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois

Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond

Tears We Cannot Stand: A Sermon to White America by Michael Eric Dyson

What Truth Sounds Like: Robert F. Kennedy, James Baldwin, and Our Unfinished Conversation About Race in America by Michael Eric Dyson

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo

White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America by Nancy Isenberg

The Common Good by Robert Reich

Transgender History by Susan Stryker

Memoir

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxane Gay

South of Forgiveness: A True Story of Rape and Responsibility by Thordis Elva

Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou

The Chicken Chronicles by Alice Walker

The Last Jew of Treblinka by Chil Rajchman

My Own Life by David Hume

Tough Shit: Life Advice from a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good by Kevin Smith

Tibetan Peach Pie: A True Account of an Imaginative Life by Tom Robbins

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass

The Sun Does Shine: How I Found Life and Freedom on Death Row by Anthony Ray Hinton

Black Klansman: Race, Hate, and the Undercover Investigation of a Lifetime by Ron Stallworth

Calypso by David Sedaris

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris

Ink Spots by Brian McDonald

No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters by Ursula K. Le Guin

History/Biography

Hidden Figures: The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race by Margot Lee Shetterly

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West by Dee Brown

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson

Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston

No god but God: The Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam by Reza Aslan

God: A Human History by Reza Aslan

One Nation Under God: How Corporate America Invented Christian America by Kevin M. Kruse

The Etymologicon: A Circular Stroll through the Hidden Connections of the English Language by Mark Forsyth

Quackery: A Brief History of the Worst Ways to Cure Everything by Lydia Kang 

Fiction

Literary Fiction

Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin

Another Country by James Baldwin

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin

Blues for Mister Charlie by James Baldwin

Going to Meet the Man by James Baldwin

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

East of Eden by John Steinbeck

Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville

Home by Toni Morrison

God Help the Child by Toni Morrison

The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

The Dead by James Joyce

Ishmael: An Adventure of the Mind and Spirit by Daniel Quinn

Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

A Confederacy of Dunces by Jonh Kennedy Toole

The Dork of Cork by Chet Raymo

Genre Fiction

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green

Slice of Life by Kurt Vonnegut

2BR02B by Kurt Vonnegut

The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin

I, Robot by Isaac Asimov

Foundation by Isaac Asimov

Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer

Kindred by Octavia E. Butler

Bloodchild and Other Stories by Octavia E. Butler

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Pure Drivel by Steve Martin

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by J.K. Rowling

Pet Sematary by Stephen King

The Green Mile by Stephen King

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams

Life, the Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams

The Bad Beginning: A Series of Unfortunate Events #1 by Lemony Snicket

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary by David Sedaris

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Worst of 2018

Every single book I read this past year had redemptive value. Even if it was total garbage, it still taught me some stuff (like how not to write a book). Even a bad book can be a good book if you let it be.

So, here’re a few books that didn’t quite hit the spot for me:

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Ishmael: An Adventure of the Mind and Spirit by Daniel Quinn

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife by Mary Roach

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

Ink Spots by Brian McDonald

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson

Best of 2018

It was genuinely difficult to choose my top books of 2018. What a literary year it has been for me. 2018 marks the most books I’ve read in a year, and I was lucky enough to come across some real game-changers. I finally read the Harry Potter series and, boy howdy, did it ever live up to the hype. What took me so long?? But this was, more than anything, the year of James Baldwin. He has made an indelible mark on me as a reader, a writer, and a human. What a year this has been! I hope to read a fraction as much beautiful, lovely, challenging, profound prose in 2019. 

In no particular order, here are the books of 2018 that most moved me, shook me, rattled me, rolled me:

Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst by Robert Sapolsky

Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom by bell hooks

The Pragmatic Turn by Richard J. Bernstein

Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric by Charlene Haddock Seigfried

The Ethics of Ambiguity by Simone de Beauvoir

What Is Real?: The Unfinished Quest for the Meaning of Quantum Physics by Adam Becker

Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space by Carl Sagan

The Soul of the Night: An Astronomical Pilgrimage by Chet Raymo

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxane Gay

Well, there you have it, folks. Here’s to many more good books in the years to come! 

The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story. —Ursula K. Le Guin

[ohsnapitzlovehacker]

3, 6 , 7 for Ivy and Matthew (Hayden), and 7, 12, 18 for Aaron and Sloane!! 😍

thank you! @lizzybeth1986​ 💖

Matthew x Ivy

3. Most common argumentTo use or not use the turn signal. Ivy sometimes forgets to flick her blinker on, but Matthew is a stickler for following the rules of the road. Any and every time she does it, Matthew goes on a rant (one which Ivy basically has memorized and has performed for Nadia when they hang out!)

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?For Ivy, it's Matthew's ass, hands down. Matthew's favorite feature is a little more innocent; he loves her nose. He'll sometimes give it a little 'bop', which never fails to make her crack a smile

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other? I think at the back of both of their minds since their blind date set up by Eros and they saw each other for the first time, the feelings were there. And the moment Matthew speaks on his feelings first, Ivy realizes that loving him is the most natural thing in the world. So really, nothing significant changes, but it's the little things. Matthew's eyes turn all soft, and there's more purposeful touching: hand-holding, gentle hugs, cheek caressing, etc.

Aaron x Sloane

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?Nothing at first! In public, Sloane is still awkward and shy (the exact opposite of in private lol) but before long these two are attached at the hip. Names are spoken more tenderly, PDA happens more often than it doesn't, that sort of thing!

12. Who initiates kisses?

Aaron, always Aaron. Sloane tends to hyper-fixate on things, and all it takes is a kiss on the cheek or somewhere else on her face to pull Sloane out of whatever problem she's solving or thought process she's fixated on. And often, Aaron will just kiss her because he can. They'll be watching a movie and he'll pull her close just smother her in kisses. And then there's no more moving watching aha.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)For the time being, Aaron has gone back to substitute teaching 8th and 9th grade English as he considers his next career move and supports Sloane's NASA endeavors,  She takes a lunchbox with her, and so he started stuffing cheesy notes in there at first for her to read on her breaks, like "you're gonna rock it today!" and "I love you to the moon and back". But then he got cheeky and started writing things like "you're wearing that new blouse Nadia bought you...can't wait to tear it off later", so now Sloane reads her notes in private!

[omigooness]

Nemesis(pain): Sugar

Ares(fear): Cinnamon

Nike(fame):Orange

Afrodite(love): Plum

Eros(warm love / evil): coffee

Poseidon(wonder): Vagina

Artemis(kindness): Strawberry

Athena(happiness): Salt

Gaia(care/worthlessness): Ginger

Apollo(fun/opportunity): Black Pepper

Hephaestus(bitterness): Lime

Hades/Surrey(sleep): Mulberries

Hermès(scum): Cheese or Wasabi

Demeter(sympathy): Butterscotch

Mnesmone(memory): Basil

Zeus(mercy): Olives

Charles Wallace(trust):

Persephone/Popoki(mad love): cherry

Apate/Miyuli(deceit): honey

Ouranos/Kiem(focus): Onion

Harmonia/Olivia(music): Nutmeg

Dionysus/Danny(luxury): Marmalade

Deimos/Chicory(dread): Vinegar

Hecate/Cosita/Bunny(darkness/magic): Black Licorice

Polythemus/Matthew(curiosity): Copper

Pan(sorry): Maple Syrup

Helios/Mushu(hatred): Old Bay

Selene(admiration):

Ops/Leia(clumsiness): RoseMary

Sylvia Plath(perseverance): Caramel

Robin Skinner(annoyance): Lemon

Shinji Ikari(hope): Apple

Sherlock RD(blame): Broccoli

Themis/Erin(justice): Wheat

Dave(loving wrath): Vanilla

Neil Smith(humor): Corn

Hestia(loyalty/family love):

the Doctor(freedom): Grape

Hera(mistrust): Pomegranite

Peter Pan(night dreams): Walnuts

Marcus(daydreams): fig

IT(loneliness): meat

Liam(secrecy): Carrot

Prometheus/Shawn(forethought): tobacco

Epimetheus/Ke-von(afterthought): weed

Natsume Hyuuga(fire): bell pepper

Napoleon(awkwardness):

Miranda(confidence): Peaches

Spongebob(sarcasity): munster cheese

Patrick(contentment/gratitude):

Pomona(to miss): dirt

Gelos/Yogi(laughter and tears): cucumber

Angelo(sadness): spinach

Rhea(doubt):

Iris(communication):

Yasmin(affection):

Nico(greed):

Tsubomi Takane(decision):

Oizys/Teresa(misery): fish

Erica Rosmin(grudge):

Petunia Elkwood(confusion): toffee

Sherlock BBC(boredom): eggplant

Melanie Wolf(bad luck/discipline):

FRODO(forgiveness):

Kronos/Eric(anger): garlic

Walter lll(shame):

Circe/Taylor Swift(worry): oyster

Helen(patience): banana

Gramma Ann(embarrassment): X

Colton K(trembling): dragon fruit

Chase K(panic): mango

Andrea/Ramona Quimbly(frustration):

Raheel Raad(to criticize): pine apple

Beroe/Yuri Eggin(doing somthing for (NO) reason):

Shakespeare(foolishness): rum

Kasey’s first boy(terror):

(Pri-)Scylla/Krishonda(indecision):

Charybdis(desperation):

Kayleigh(regret):

Daniel Radcliffe(attentiveness):

Keira Knightly(concern):

Emma King(responsibility):

The LICH(calamity):

Ananke/ Safiyah(inevitability):

Erebus/Hideaki Anno(black matter):

Leto/Alexandra Feodorovna(motherhood):

Metis(wisdom):

Aeneas/Kevin(demigod):

Perceus/Justin Bieber(demigod):

Hercules/Sean Blackman(demigod):

Achilles/Jessie Foster(demigod):

Limos/Yani(starvation):

Perses/boy from BlackRock(destruction):

Horkos/Harper Wolf(oath): wine

Shoto Todoroki(doom):

Riley Joy(arrogance):

Echo/Sheila(sensitivity):

Damel(dirt):

Olga Romanov(gluttony):

Ceres(food crops- corn):

Tyler Joseph(demigod):

Shirayuki(jealousy):

Bo Burnham(meeth):

Japan(thriving):

England(modesty):

China(acceptance):

France(wisdom):

America(individuality):

Amaterasu(luck):

Spain(goodness):

Amaitaru(pain you cannot feel): chocolate

Lucas(pure energy):

Cain(retribution):

Abel(betrayal):

Cloth(foresight):

Yukio Okumura(empathy):

Layfa(thought):

Nanate(giddyness):

Ginger(rescue):

Sin(aggression): doritos

James(squib):

Lawliet(possessiveness):

Calypso/Mel:

girl I called a boss(bossiness):

Starr(excuses):

C.W.(sweetness):

Maia/Miranda Cosgrove(rudeness): guava

Merope2(embarrassment):

Msomne(memory):

Ariadne(self respect):

BlackStar: peppermint

(This is very important in potion making)