#corinthian x child!reader

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

UPDATE

So I noticed I have a bunch of fics that I haven’t posted but are finished so I’ll just reread them once and then I’ll post them

btw if anyone has a request for the Umbrella Academy pls send them in bc I might be a bit obsessed at the moment and would really like to write something for them (platonically preferably)

So what I want to say is I guess that the Umbrella Academy Request are officially open now <3

And as always if you have any other requests I’m always glad to get them (that’s really why the requests are always open)

[the-californicationist]

Through a Glass, Darkly

A new priest is assigned to your remote abbey, but when you go to him for confession, you realize you are kneeling before the Devil himself.

Anonymous asked: Hiya Cali, crazy thought but happy october 🎃 brain worm, think about mirror sex with vampire!Price / 141 and the absolute flith that would pour from his mouth as he watches you stretch around seemingly nothing…

———

TW: vampirism, blood play, priest abuse of power, heavy religious imagery, fem!reader, rape/noncon, virginity loss, corruption, mind breaking, historical fantasy au, father/my child/sister religious titles, fully adult characters

You’ve been warned, and I don’t wanna hear it. Your click, your fault.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. — 1 Corinthians 13:12

—x—x—x—

When Mr. Hawthorne arrived that morning with fresh milk, eggs, and a cart full of potatoes and turnips, you thought you would forget yourself and fling your hands around his fat neck. It had been weeks since supplies had been delivered, and although you lived in what was probably the smallest abbey in the world, you were just thankful that you had not been completely forgotten.

“Oh, thank you, Mister Hawthorne! We are so grateful for your service. The Lord rewards the generous,” you praised him.

The plump man’s face flushed red and he took off his sweaty cap, holding it limply in his hands,

“Tha’s alright, Sister. I had a good yield this season. You send a letter over to us if you need anything more. Hopefully that new priest will be arriving soon. Margie said she spotted him at the inn yesterday afternoon.”

“New priest?” You asked, wholly unaware of your abbey receiving an actual man of the cloth.

“Yes, Sister. He looks a little rugged for a holy man, but she said he was wearin’ the collar, clear as day.”

“Oh,” you mused, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll take my leave of you, Sister. Hope he’s a good one. It’ll be nice to have services back in the old church.”

“Yes, it will. Take care, and safe travels, sir. May God bless your next harvest.”

You watched as his rickety cart, pulled by an equally rotund mule, delivered the farmer away from you and your tiny sanctuary. As soon as he was out of sight, you rushed back through the wooden doors of the abbey to find Sister Ruth and Sister Sarah to tell them of the news.

They were both as shocked as you were. You had all three been convinced that the good Pope had completely forgotten about your little sect, and no letters had come for months. But, a new priest in this parish would bring much needed governance to the provincial people of your small village, and you needed to prepare.

You and your fellow nuns cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more. By nightfall, the abbey gleamed anew.

As you were preparing for bed, you heard the whinny of a horse outside of the abbey doors. You looked out into the corridor, and Sister Ruth was peeking out as well. Arming yourselves with long, steel fire pokers, you made your way to the entrance. Ruth nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to call out. So, you said,

“It is past hours. Please come back tomorrow!”

“I’m Father John Price, and unless I’m mistaken, this is my abbey,” a deep, gravelly voice called out to you, seeming to flow and roll through the door with a convincing ease.

You cracked the wooden portal and looked out.

There, holding onto a frothy, exhausted steed was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He wore an all-black capello romano on his head, towering above you by at least a full cubit. His face was pale, protected from labors under the sun, but his hands looked like they had certainly known the true meaning of work. His body was well-muscled and immense. Even in the midst of his flowing black robes, you could see the bulging form of his shoulders stretching the fine fabric. Around his thick neck, his white clergy collar sat dutifully under a jutting Adam’s apple and a proud chin, shaven although the rest of his beard was trimmed to full length.

But it was his eyes that unnerved you. For all of his brutish form, the look in his gaze made your blood run cold. There was something hypnotizing about the pale blue irises. It made him seem almost inhuman.

That deep, purring voice returned, and he stepped closer to you, threatening your threshold with white, sharp teeth pulled in a tight smile,

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Forgive me, Father. Please, come in. Sister Ruth will take your horse to the stables. Allow me to take your bags and show you to your chamber.”

He followed behind you at a close distance, studying the abbey’s courtyard and walls, judging its worthiness. You were proud of the work you had done to keep it in good working order, but you knew it was in desperate need of repairs.

As you walked, you tried to make small talk to ease the tension,

“I have been in prayer thanking God for your arrival, Father. It has been many years since we have been blessed to house a priest within our abbey walls. Our parishioners will be filled with joy to return to their pews.”

“Mm.” His hum was polite but noncommittal, so you gave up on the niceties.

Finally, you reached his cell, you pried open the door and allowed him to enter before you. He studied the spartan room with the expected amount of enthusiasm, and watched you lay his bag down on the small chair at his desk. You straightened out the Bible that lay on the table, making sure the corner matched up with the edge of the table, placing it just so.

“Will you take supper, Father Price?”

“No, I am not hungry. You will find that I eat very little, in fact,” he said, taking off his cloak and laying it on the freshly-made bed. He hung his hat on its hook and tried to straighten his hair.

“Should I have a mirror brought in for your cell?” You asked, thinking that he may need to look presentable. As a nun, you never used a mirror as a rule, but you were willing to accommodate your new steward as best you could.

“Do you use a mirror, my child?” Price’s voice deepened and smoldered like a bundle of kindling, threatening to burn. He stepped toward you, using his size to impose himself upon you in the small space.

“N-n-no,” you stammered, “Of course not, Father. But I am not in a position to be perceived such as yourself.”

“Recite Proverbs 31:30, my child,” he commanded, stepping closer to you, slowly creeping into your personal space, close enough that you could smell the scent of the sun and the grass on his robes, mixing with the sweat of his skin.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, and obeyed,

“Yes, Father. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

“Good,” Price smiled, using his finger to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “We must not succumb to vanity, my child. A dutiful disciple is one who serves others, yes?”

“Yes, Father,” you said, stepping backwards, away from his touch, hanging your head in reverence.

“In fact,” he purred, “It is James 1:23 which reminds us that those who look into the glass will be blinded by their own desires, only seeing themselves, incapable of suffering God’s divinity. It is the good works done that are worthy of praise, my child, although…”

He stepped forward again, grabbing your chin in his huge hand roughly, clutching the very bone of your jaw, making you gasp,

“Our Lord has taken special care to display his almighty talent in your face, has he not? Such delicate features. Like an angel.”

His mouth was so close to yours that you could smell the heady scent of iron and musk on his breath. His piercing eyes never left yours, pinning you in place.

Then, he released you, and you left the room without being dismissed, closing the cell door behind you and rushing back to your own cloister. You rushed into your room, locking the door fast, and knelt at your altar to pray for forgiveness.

Except… you were not asking to be forgiven for suggesting vanity to your new priest. No. You were asking to be forgiven for the warm, wet lust that was smearing across the crease of your thighs. Father Price had awakened strong feelings in you not of enlightenment, but of lurid desire, and you begged to be cleansed.

The next morning, Father Price called the abbey together. Yourself, Sister Ruth, and Sister Sarah reported to the small courtyard, along with two young pilgrims who had lived there since the past summer, Timothy and David. You and the nuns had suspected them as runaways, but they pledged themselves to the cloth and took care of the manual labor around the premises since you lacked any monks to speak of. They were well into their young adulthood now, and they would become apprentices to Father Price, if he saw fit.

You tried to put what had transpired between you and the good Father out of your mind, but seeing him in the cold light of day did nothing to quell the sinful desire you felt towards him. The way he had grabbed you…

“Good morrow, everyone. I ask that you will join me in our Biblical studies every morning. I find that the word of God helps me put the rest of my day right. I want to begin at the beginning, yes?”

He looked around at all of your faces, as if anyone would protest against his power, and then he continued,

“What does Genesis 4:7 tell us, Sister Ruth?”

“Speaking to Cain, the Lord said: If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.”

“Sin lieth at the door,” Father Price mused, then, as if shaking himself from his thought, he said, “Please continue, Sister.”

“And Cain talked with Abel, his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and slew him. And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?”

“You are,” the priest’s voice rose in his chest, startling Sister Ruth and silencing her words. He began to pace back and forth, slowly stalking through your small ranks, “You are your brother’s keeper. You are more than that. You are keepers of this entire parish, are you not?”

“Yes, Father,” you all said in unison.

“There will be a reckoning in this parish,” Price snarled, “I will not lead a flock of demons disguised as sheep. If any of you hear witness or see evidence of sin, deliver it to me at once. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” you repeated.

“I will now take your confessions. I understand that it has been a number of years since you were cleansed, so be prepared to repent lest you allow the Devil into your soul.”

“Yes, Father.”

The day dragged on through the gray clouds, and Father Price had taken his time with the confessions of the members of your abbey. Sister Sarah had gone into his cell after the boys, and she had emerged with red eyes full of tears. You had comforted her in hushed whispers in the corner of her cloister, asking her what he had done, thinking it was something even more awful that how he had accosted you last night.

“He…” Sarah sobbed, “He made me kneel on sharp stones while I recited my prayers. It hurts so much, Sister.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Although sharp stones were not a gentle punishment, they were at least devoid of physical contact. He had not taken a hand to her. But, Sister Sarah was young. She had avoided some of the harsher training practices of the more traditional members of the church. You knew that there were a bevvy of punishments that would make kneeling in discomfort feel like a blessing.

Sister Ruth also came out sniffling, reporting that she had fifty lashes across her palms for the sin of plucking figs off of a nearby tree owned by the neighboring farm.

Again, you sighed and thanked God that he had a little mercy within him.

His cell door opened, and Father Price locked eyes with you and demanded,

“Come, my child. It is time for your confession.”

“Yes, Father Price,” you complied, taking your leave of the other nuns and following him into his cell.

Inside of his room, a shaft of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his eyes and stunning you, keeping you from moving forward.

“Shut the door, my child,” his timbre was ominous, and you tried to hold yourself together.

“So far,” he rose from his seat and walked over to you, “I have cleansed the souls of a nun who is a thief, another who is a sloth, a young man who is a liar, and another who is filled with pride. It seems, Sister, that you have allowed the Devil through the door, indeed.”

“Forgive me, Father. I knew not of their wicked ways, nor have I your wisdom to correct them.” You stared at the stone floor. It was easier than looking at him.

“I do not believe that the wickedness was borne within them,” Father Price mused, tapping his finger on his lips as if deep in thought, “Because I discovered this beneath your mattress, and so I know the evil is inside of you.”

In his hands, Father Price held up a square, familiar, looking glass. You trembled, watching as your own reflection met you back. You could see the fear spread across your face, and you were disgusted by it.

“Tell me, my child. How did you use this mirror?” He asked sweetly, but as he watched you think about how best to answer the question, his voice became hot with fury and he snarled into your ear, “And don’t you dare lie to me. I will know your deceit.”

Your heart was banging in your chest, and so, beyond your better judgment, you told him the truth.

“I used it to… examine myself, Father.”

“Show me,” he commanded.

It was as if his whole cell bent and bowed under the weight of his authority. Your body began to move against your own will, relenting to his instead. Without thinking, you pulled back your habit and let your hair fall down your back. Then, you began to peel away your robes. Underneath, you untied your shift, and you allowed the fabric to pool on the floor at your feet, staring at yourself naked in the glass.

He watched you in silent awe, his pupils darkening, his mouth parted at his full lips, his chest heaving as he watched you make yourself bare before him.

“Go on,” he said, knowing that you were not finished with your demonstration.

You felt yourself obeying him helplessly, and you performed the same inspection that you did in private in front of him.

“I wanted to see how God hath made me, Father. So, I looked.”

“Where did you look, my child?”

“Here,” you raised your hands to squeeze the supple flesh of your breasts, showing him how your nipples were bouncy and puffy until they turned stiff and tight.

“And here,” you allowed your hand to fit itself between your thighs, spreading your labia, covered in dense hair, until your pliant lips revealed a shining, smooth center, wet and ready for pleasure.

“Now that you have examined the Lord’s fine works, what did you do with this knowledge?” Price asked.

“I would touch this part of me, Father, and I would let it bring me to Heaven.”

“I would like to know Heaven, my child. Turn around.”

You tried to stop yourself, but he was using his power to bind you. You were nothing more than a toy, helpless to his every whim. You turned, your back facing him, and he set the mirror on his desk so that you could see yourself within it. Then, he moved in front of you and his body blocked your view, reaching down to grab your chin like he had the first night he arrived, raising your mouth up to his.

You thought he would kiss you. His lips were just within reach, but he commanded you darkly,

“Confess.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you recited dumbly, “It has been three years since my last confession. In that time, I have…”

His mouth covered yours, kissing you deeply, feeding you his long tongue and eating up your words before you could say them. Then, you felt his hands on your breasts, squeezing them cruelly, pinching your nipples to make them ache and sting. You couldn’t help the lewd sounds that escaped your throat, but he didn’t seem to care to stop you. Finally, he pulled away, and when you looked into his eyes again, the bright blue had been replaced with a Hellish red.

You gasped, and he grabbed you tighter, pulling you towards him by the soft meat of your breasts, making you cry out in agony. That noise seemed to please him because he smiled down at you, and you could see that his teeth had grown into long, wolf-like fangs. He chuckled,

“My pretty little sinner.”

“D-d-demon!” You cried breathlessly, shaking from fear as he held you to his body.

Price bared his fangs at your assessment, hissing from the title,

“Yes, and you have invited me in, so eager to be corrupted.”

Releasing you from his grip, he held you around your waist with one arm, and he used his free hand to dip between your legs, discovering your wetness there and sighing from it.

“Mmm… Let me taste your sweet, little Heaven, Sister.”

He knelt on the floor in front of you and held onto your wide ass cheeks in each hand, forcing your hips to tilt toward his face. You looked down and watched as his impossibly long tongue flicked against your swollen bud. His wide tongue parted your lips to drag wetly between them. You tried to hold back your cries, but you’d never known such pleasure, so you could barely keep it in. You prayed for forgiveness as you came apart against this demon’s mouth, succumbing to his vileness.

Then, you glanced into the mirror, and you noticed that you couldn’t see his head. Only the collar and robes were visible in the glass. All you could see is how your lips were being spread apart, seemingly on their own.

He had no reflection.

“You… you’re…” You couldn’t say the words, but Price knew what you meant to call him.

He looked over his shoulder, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide apart, gazing at them in the glass and smiling even though he didn’t have a reflection to smile at. Then, he looked back up at you, a sick grin spread across his lips,

“Cain, yes. The immortal wanderer, cursed from the earth which hath opened her mouth to receive my brother’s blood. And I have not tasted food, for it becomes ash in my mouth, just like He promised. But, blood… I can taste blood just fine.”

He planted the softest kisses between your shivering thighs, sucking on the thin skin, and then, after slaking his thirst with your sticky center once more, he sank his fangs right in the inside of your thigh, making you howl with pain.

His eyes were locked on yours, watching you writhe in agony, your nerves sensing his venom coursing through you as he sucked the life from your veins. You watched yourself in the mirror, seeing the puncture wounds, watching as blood spilled out across your skin, smearing and being licked away by his greedy tongue. Finally, he released you, and the poison of his mouth took effect. You became deeply fatigued, and you could barely stand on your own. He had to hold you in his arms to keep you in position.

He stood, smiling down at you, his mouth caked with your dark blood, his teeth stained red,

“What a blessing you are, my child. Such perfect innocence tastes so fine, so… pure. I almost hate to sour your ripe little fruit, but that will be sweet in its own way, yes?”

You watched as your demonic priest yanked at his collar, popping it from his neck. Then, he pulled off his robes, tearing away at his layers until he was as bare as you, both of you fully naked and pressed together, joined in a crash of skin and heat, his mouth painting your body with your own blood as he kissed and licked your breasts and belly, teasing you with his tongue as he explored you.

Then, he stepped around to your back, and you caught sight of his heavy cock as it swung between his legs like that of a rutting beast. You tried to fight the black spell you were under, but it was no use. You were trapped in his thrall.

“Watch yourself in the mirror, my child,” Father Price commanded you, grinning as you immediately obeyed, “Come and behold the marvelous works of God.”

You couldn’t turn your eyes away. You were alone in the mirror, and yet, your breasts were being crushed by invisible fists, your nipples tormented between unseen fingers. Then, you felt Price fit his phallus against the entrance of your sex and press it into you, stretching you wide across his prodding cockhead. You saw how your body was being invaded by him, pulling itself apart to allow him inside. The dark hole of your quim opened like a toothless maw, drooling and starving, hungry to take him deep within you, welcoming him up to your womb.

You sobbed at the strain, and then you felt something give way sharply inside you, and he had a much easier time of filling you with his engorged length. As he fucked himself up into you, he was grunting like an animal, praising you in your ear, telling you his own confession,

“Forgive me, my child, for I am sinning. Right now… I am sinning with you, and it is so sweet. God has made you for me. What a gift you are. See?”

He used his hand to swipe at your gaping hole, bringing his hand in front of your face so you could see the bright blood that coated his fingertips,

“You have broken so easily for me. The Lord knew you needed me to come and serve you. He brought me to you, my child. You welcomed me inside, didn’t you? Spread these lips for me, invited me in… Didn’t you? Say it.”

“Y-y-yes, F-father…” You whimpered, tears dripping down your chin and onto your bare chest.

The loud slapping of skin against skin filled the cell, and you watched as your hole spread wider and wider, taking more of him with each punishing thrust.

“Louder, my child,” he hissed in your ear.

“Yes, Father!”

His hand was playing in your slippery folds, massaging your hidden bud and forcing you to clench hard around him from the pleasure. In the glass, you could see your hole trying in vain to twist itself shut, pumping him in a steady beat.

“Didn’t you pray to God for a prick like mine when you touched your filthy quim in your mirror?”

“Yes, Father!”

It was true. You had touched yourself, hoping that you might one day know the pleasure of being taken by a man. You had watched the mating of cattle in the field next to the abbey many a summer past, hanging clothes and sheets on the line, and yet all the while looking into the grassy glade, staring at the bull who would mount his cow and thrust his turgid rod into her to breed her deeply. And she would croon for him, and when he left her, the spent seed would hang in long, thick strings from the head of his phallus, making him wet and ready to sink his sword through its next sheath.

“And the Lord answered your prayers, did he not? Begging him for someone to breed you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Father!”

Price was the bull, and you would be bred by him, and you would be cast out of God’s mercy forever. Ruined. Steeped in sin and tainted by lust.

“You smell like a ripe plum, my sweet child, and you’re just as soft in my mouth,” Price began to lick your neck from your sloping shoulder all the way to your earlobe, over and over, letting his spit cover your flesh. Then, he sank his fangs into your vein and began to drink from you in long, slurping sucks, swallowing your blood into his throat in audible gulps, moaning with each mouthful of your essence.

The venom of his demonic bite made your head cloudy and your will compliant.

“Touch yourself, my child,” he mumbled, quickly returning to his feast on your flesh.

You had no choice but to obey. You felt him increase his pace, his long cock bottoming out inside of you with each thrust, flinging his weight into you like a hammer. You began touching your breasts, pinching yourself gently as you watched your ruination unfold in the looking glass, helpless to stop it.

Then, you began to touch your rigid nub, taking over for him as he continued to drink from you. You made achingly slow circles around your most sensitive spot, and because you were so wet, you were able to go faster without any discomfort. You made yourself come quickly, jerking your hips against him as he fucked you, listening to him groan from the feeling of your tight hole trying to squeeze the come out of his body.

“Beg me for my seed, Sister. Beg me to spill it in you,” Price murmured, licking your neck in the spot where he had bitten to rub the taste of your blood across his tongue.

“Father, please… Please come in me. Spill in me… oh!”

You felt him jerk inside of you, and then you heard his growling orgasm rip through his body, his cock pulsing wildly, shooting ropes of creamy seed all over your walls, bursting through your tight, virginal core.

“So perfect for me, so perfect…”

Price caught his breath while he was still inside of you, panting and smiling against your neck before he pulled out of you, watching his invisible shaft slip through your cunt in the mirror, the gaping hole slowly shrinking before your eyes. As he retreated, you saw large strings of come drip out of you, white and endless, flowing out of you and onto the floor of the cell.

Father Price dressed himself in front of you, leaving you standing where he had last commanded you to be, admiring your ruined body. Once he clipped his collar back under his shirt and cloak, he stepped in front of you to pinch lightly at the tips of your nipples again, making you whimper like a hungry mutt.

“For all your virtues, Sister, you are prone to sin. An innocent such as yourself must be trained to resist the Devil. Come to my cell for confession every morning and every night. I promise,” he stroked your cheek and then your neck, right where he’d bitten you, “I will put my goodness deep inside of you, my child. Right here.”

His other hand came to touch your bare belly, gently caressing the skin and flesh that protected your womb.

“Yes, Father,” you said, trying to avoid his furious gaze, shaking with pure, gut-wrenching terror, understanding that for you, there was no escape. You were under his vampiric command, and if he wanted you, your body was going to obey. You’d taken the Mark of Cain on your neck, and the only hope for you now was to beg for his mercy.

“Take this mirror with you, my child. I want you to kneel in prayer over it, spread those plump legs wide, and I want you to watch my seed drip out of you. With every drop, you will thank God for me and my prick. When the Lord answers our prayers, it is our duty to be grateful.”

“Yes, Father,” you said, pulling your robes back on and adjusting your habit.

He handed you the mirror, and you took it with a crushing amount of shame, feeling his come still seeping in a steady stream out of your well-used hole.

As you left his cell, he smiled down at you, carefully petting your cheek,

“Don’t worry, my child. Your next confession is in only a few hours. You will feel the warmth of the Lord’s forgiveness again very soon.”

—x—x—x—

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

AO3 Link

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 22

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

Your wonderful vacation in the Dreaming came to an end as Morpheus bestowed gifts and boundless love. Upon arriving at Cape Kennedy, you learned that Lyta's child had already been born. Subtle changes had occurred in everyone's lives, unexpected transformations altering their paths forever. You, on the other hand, faced a tumultuous return to work, grappling with severe physical fatigue back in London.

Author's note: Hello! I hope you guys have been well. Here's another lengthy update for you. I recently realized that in the previous chapter, the name the Reader gave to the deer—Astra—is the same as the little girl Johanna tried to save and lost. This was initially coincidental, as I couldn't recall her name at all. However, it sparked a nice idea that I'll explain towards the end of the story. I didn't want to leave anything to chance, and since the name felt fitting, changing it seemed inappropriate considering all the research I put into it. Instead, I've found a clever way to explain this "glitch" in the narrative. It's not something huge plot-wise, just something that will justify the repeated name.

Now, this chapter delves deeper into the lore of Cape Kennedy's side characters, all of which I've created myself. I wanted to explore a few specific aspects here, as things might become a bit chaotic/dramatic in the next update. I need to ensure I've covered everything thoroughly.

Also, I'm currently revising the first chapters, improving the wording and adding some enrichment. While the story itself will remain unchanged, I aim to make it sound consistent and cohesive from start to finish. After returning to writing in 2022, I've dedicated time to studying and practicing, which has influenced the story's progression. It's hard to believe this fic will be two years old in December!

(The upgraded chapters haven't been uploaded yet. I'll edit each one as soon as they're prepared and ready for posting.)

Gazing at the magnificent Dreaming scenery before you, you heaved a sigh of displeasure. You were fully prepared—though not emotionally ready—to return to Cape Kennedy and depart from the enchanting realm of dreams.

It was absurd, really. You could visit Morpheus's domain every night in your dreams, and he'd even invited you to return physically anytime in the future. There was no logical reason for such despondency; this wasn't a permanent goodbye, after all.

Yet, as you contemplated going back to your normal life, a nagging feeling deep in your consciousness reminded you of the Dreaming's importance to your soul. Leaving it behind felt like bidding farewell to the most beautiful vacation of your life, your heart already aching for it before you'd even left.

Morpheus's arrival heralded your imminent exit from his world. As you turned to greet him, your eyes were drawn to a wooden box nestled in the crook of his right arm. Its intricate design lent it a substantial appearance, adorned with golden decorations reminiscent of your chamber's style and Morpheus' preference.

Curiously, you asked, "What is that?"

He stepped forward, cradling the box in his hands as he examined it. "This is a gift I have prepared for you."

"Another gift? Morpheus, you're truly being too generous."

He smiled, drawing closer to you. "You need only ask, and it shall be yours. All that you long for."

Overcome by a fresh surge of affection for this extraordinary being whom you cherished above all else, you gently cradled his face in your hands and brought your lips to his. The kiss was tender, yet laced with unmistakable determination. "And here I thought nothing could top last night's surprise."

You leaned in for another kiss, finding yourself unable to stop, lost in the moment with the man from whom you could scarcely tear yourself away. Morpheus seemed equally content, returning your kisses with matching fervor until you were both satisfied.

"Do you not you want to see it?" he asked teasingly.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly detached yourself, taking a deep breath. "Yes, of course."

Instead of opening the box himself, he offered it to you expectantly. You took it with extreme care, almost afraid it might slip from your grasp and shatter. As you held it, you were surprised by how light it felt compared to its sturdy exterior. When you unlatched the front lock, a warm pulse of power emanated from it, tingling your fingertips and running down your spine.

You lifted the lid, revealing the contents nestled on a black velvet cushion. Your eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before you: a luminous pearl-white moonflower that glowed like a living lantern, a palm-sized amethyst crystal of the deepest, most mesmerizing purple, a small glass vial filled with sand— its cap tightly sealed with a thin cord, and a golden bangle that looked tailor-made for your wrist, its surface embellished with tiny, star-shaped crystals that glimmered brilliantly in the light. 

"This blossom shall retain its ethereal beauty, forever in bloom, defying the laws of mortality even as it graces the realm of the Waking," he explained. "The amethyst, a stone of grounding, shall grant immediate solace upon your touch."

"What about the sand?”

"This sand, harvested from the very essence of your Dreamland, bears the same properties as that which resides within my pouch. It is a fragment of your dreams made tangible."

Morpheus's sand, granted to you as a gift…?

"Can I really accept this? Your sand is such a vital source of your power."

"Though but a mere fragment, I am confident in your discretion to safeguard it from unworthy hands."

"That goes without saying. I'll guard it with my life."

He raised his hand, gently brushing the box and allowing his fingers to meet yours in the process. "I have placed tokens of my devotion to you in this vessel of memories, eternal artifacts that shall evoke recollections of your stay in this realm."

Morpheus continued to surpass your expectations effortlessly, offering gift after gift without expecting anything in return. His boundless generosity left you feeling humbled and almost insignificant in comparison.

The bangle needed no introduction. Its aesthetic perfectly complemented the starry theme of the Dreaming while matching the bracelet your mother had given you. As you admired it, you eagerly anticipated wearing them together.

"This is beautiful," you whispered, gently closing the box and caressing its ornate surface. "Thank you, Morpheus. This means the world to me."

“Should you wish for anything else, I will provide it for you.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. "There's only one thing I'd love to bring home with me, but that's not allowed."

As you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his cool ones, Morpheus immediately grasped your meaning and responded with a subtle smile. "I shall be with you always, my love." 

“I know.”

"Are you ready, my love?" Morpheus asked gently.

“No.”

His shoulders slumped slightly as he gazed at you with affectionate amusement. "Y/N…"

"Sorry, I'm kidding. Well, sort of. Maybe. Not really. But yes, I am ready."

Clutching the strap of your bag, you awaited Morpheus's magic. He gathered you in his embrace, his forehead gently touching yours as he closed his eyes, yours following suit instinctively. A gust of wind tousled your hair, accompanied by the soft swoosh of rising sand. You sensed your surroundings change, the Dreaming gradually fading into the distance, yet remaining forever tethered to you by an invisible thread.

As you remained motionless with your eyes shut tight, Morpheus called your name in a low, velvety voice. "Y/N."

“Mh?”

"We have arrived in the Waking World."

The familiar scents of Florida's natural environment and the subtle shift in ambient light confirmed your return to Cape Kennedy. Still, you found it difficult to release your hold on him, struggling to accept that the most unforgettable week of your life had come to an end.

It was childish, you reasoned, considering how much work awaited you in your waking life. You weren't truly separating from Morpheus or the Dreaming, but a part of you wondered if you could ever truly balance your existence between these two worlds, or if you were inextricably tied to just your own.

You were a mortal connected to an Endless being, with time's relentless march ever-present. Could you truly hope to make the Dreaming your permanent abode?

His lips grazed your cheek, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. "Do you intend to stand here indefinitely?"

“If I do, will you take me back?”

He tenderly caressed your jawline, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "My love, my heart longs to keep you eternally in my embrace. If only I could yield to such selfishness.”

With a resigned sigh, you finally opened your eyes to meet his countenance. "You could. I wouldn't complain."

He shook his head gently. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Everything." One hand clutched the memory box, while the other trailed along his chest, settling on his covered collarbones. "But I understand you have vital duties, as do I with my own responsibilities."

"Thank you, Y/N, for allowing me to bring you into my realm. Your devotion for the Dreaming is immeasurable, I cherish it with all that I am."

"The Dreaming is you," you said with a smile. "How could I not adore it?"

Every word you spoke to him, so honest and filled with humanity's most precious light, never failed to make him—the Lord of Dreams, an ever-darker creature—happier than he ever thought he deserved to be.

"I must leave you now, my love. Take heart, for I will seek you in your dreams.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to your side. "I love you, Morpheus. You know that, don't you?"

"I do. And my love for you, my dear, transcends the very fabric of existence, encompassing all realms, both dreamt and waking."

He pulled you close for one last, lingering kiss before reluctantly letting you go.

"Ever the poet," you remarked with a grin. "Just one of the countless things I like about you."

"Are you attempting to keep me here with you?"

“Is it working?”

He let out a soft chuckle. "I am afraid not. But wherever you go, I will follow."

"That's enough, I suppose."

For a moment longer, you looked deeply into each other's eyes as a wordless understanding passed between you. Then, Morpheus's sand reappeared, rising from the ground at his feet and gradually swirling around his form. You stepped back, giving his powers room to work, as a cloud of grains swallowed him completely. In an instant, the sand twirled and dissipated, leaving no trace of Morpheus as he vanished back to his realm.

You exhaled, feeling a complex blend of satisfaction and wistful melancholy.

Hal's B&B stood just a few feet away. As you retrieved your phone from your bag and powered it on, you were astonished to find that barely a few hours had passed since leaving the hotel in Georgia. Morpheus had mentioned that time flowed differently in the Dreaming, but it was still mind-boggling to realize you'd spent seven days in his company, only to essentially travel back in time.

With a final loving glance at the box, you carefully tucked it into your bag and set off. The house's door stood unlocked, and as you entered, Hal's voice greeted you warmly as soon as you crossed the threshold.

"Welcome back!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. "How was the Cereal Convention? I heard it was brimming with fascinating events."

If only he knew the mayhem you had witnessed there. "Fascinating? That doesn't even begin to describe it.".

You wondered if the news had reported anything about the man who had taken his own life in the car, or if they had even remotely mentioned the rest of the cult, now cursed by Morpheus to a lifetime of regrets.

"I bet," he said mischievously. "Rose told me you got quite a pleasant surprise."

You blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Come now, no need to be coy, sweetheart. You know secrets don't stay hidden for long in this house."

You realized Rose must have concocted a story to account for your absence. Whatever tale she had spun, you found yourself at a loss for how to navigate this unexpected situation. 

“Well…”

"Your boyfriend showed up unexpectedly to pick you up, didn’t he? Now that's what I call romantic!"

Oh.

You had to admit, that wasn't entirely inaccurate. "You've caught me red-handed."

He graciously helped you remove your jacket as you clutched your bag tightly, guarding it as if it contained your most precious possessions, which couldn't be nearer to the truth.

"No wonder you look radiant. I'd recognize that glow anywhere."

"What can I say? He has a flair for dramatic appearances."

As you entered the dining room, you found only Chantal and Zelda at the table, their brunch plates cleared. An unusual hush blanketed the house, a stark departure from its typical bustling energy.

“Hey girls.”

“Good morning, Y/N,” Chantal replied cordially. "Zelda says hello as well."

"Where's everyone else? Have they not risen yet?"

Hal joined them, gesturing invitingly towards an empty chair. "Ah, you've missed quite a bit. You won't believe what's happened."

Taking a seat beside him at the table, you narrowed your eyes. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"No, no, quite the opposite. You see... it's about Lyta; she's given birth."

Your jaw dropped so suddenly that you half-expected it to clatter onto the floor. How could Lyta have delivered her baby so quickly? Could her time with her husband in the Dreaming have stretched longer, similar to your own experience with the King of Dreams?

“What…?”

"I know. Crazy, right? Did you even know she was pregnant? I don't think Rose ever noticed either."

"I didn't," you replied. "It's generally not something you easily miss... though, I've read about cryptic pregnancies before.”

"Yes, but can a belly grow that big overnight? It wouldn't be the strangest thing I've seen lately, but…"

You pursed your lips, wracking your brain for a plausible explanation for such an extraordinary occurrence. Yet, try as you might, no rational justification presented itself.

"Rose and Jed accompanied Barbie and Ken to the hospital," Chantal interjected.

"We're heading there in a couple of hours,” Hal said. “Are you free? You're welcome to come with us."

You agreed without hesitation. "Absolutely. I've got plenty of time before my next appointment with Andrew, so I'm in."

"Great! We're all eager to meet the little one."

Despite the maelstrom of thoughts in your mind, you chose to set aside your confusion. There was little point in fixating on inexplicable events, especially since you'd come to understand that the Dreaming's magic and uniqueness often transcended conventional reasoning.

Eager to keep your mind occupied, you insisted on helping Hal with the cleaning, brushing aside his protests. After your ample rest, staying active appealed to you more than idling about in the living room. As he washed the dishes, you meticulously dried the tableware and set everything neatly in its place. Hal hummed random songs intermittently, his voice filling the kitchen with cheerfulness and positivity.

"So, this boyfriend of yours. Does he travel often?" Hal inquired, passing you a freshly washed glass.

"Mm, you could say he's practically omnipresent," you replied with a knowing smile.

"He must have quite an important job," Hal observed, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

"It's vital, indeed. His work shapes the very fabric of our existence."

Realizing you had inadvertently revealed more than intended, you bit your tongue. Fortunately, Hal didn't seem inclined to pry further.

"I admire people like that. Those who can truly change the world."

"You have that power too, in your own way."

"I'm not so sure about that," Hal replied modestly. "Though I must admit, I'm finally considering selling this place."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You're going to sell your grandmother's house?"

Hal chuckled. "I've been thinking; dreams can really change your perspective. No matter how bizarre they get."

You gave his upper arm a friendly squeeze. "Whatever path you choose, I'm confident it'll be the right one for you."

"I haven't made any final decisions yet, but I'm now open to giving my career a real shot. Who knows? Maybe next year you'll hear my name as the greatest Broadway performer of all time."

"I can absolutely see that happening. You shine on stage, Hal. I'm sure I've mentioned that before."

The conversation flowed naturally, weaving through various topics, from Hal's future aspirations to your creative pursuits and life in London. Amidst the discussion, he brought up the unusual dream experience that he and the others had collectively undergone, featuring Rose and the Vortex in action. Remarkably, they all vividly recalled the events leading up to Morpheus's attempt to halt Rose's power, but none of them could adequately describe or explain why—or how—this dream had manifested for all of them at once.

His willingness to openly discuss the event with you, regardless of your apparent status as an outsider and his unawareness of your actual involvement, left you astounded. Although he intentionally kept his descriptions vague, they unanimously agreed that Rose had been rather special since her arrival. 

You refrained from confirming or denying it. While the truth was irrefutable, you were reluctant to raise further questions about a girl who had already endured so much on her own.

The dream had left an indelible mark on each of them, sparking a self-reflection and personal development. Apparently, cracks had begun to show in Barbie and Ken's relationship, and Hal was confident it was only a matter of time before it crumbled completely. This revelation didn't surprise you, as you'd harbored reservations about Ken from your very first encounter.

As the late morning wore on, you carved out a private moment in your room. Seated on the bed, you gazed at Morpheus's gifts, a broad smile illuminating your face and a bright sparkle dancing in your eyes. You picked up the golden bangle, turning it over in your hands to look at its minimalist design. Despite its simplicity, it was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry you'd ever seen, with its diamond-like stars twinkling brilliantly in the sunlight. As you slipped it onto your wrist, you marveled at its perfect fit, neither too loose nor too tight. It sat snugly against your skin, complementing your mother's leafy bracelet perfectly, as if it were crafted specifically for this pairing. Considering Morpheus's particular attention to detail regarding your appearance, you realized that this harmonious combination was no accident, but rather a deliberate choice on his part.

You missed him deeply, craving his presence with an intensity that eclipsed even your need for breath. It was natural, given that you had been virtually inseparable during your time together, except for the brief absences he was compelled to make. 

Still, you found yourself contemplating your relationship from a new angle, considering the prospect of deepening your bond with him. Was it even possible for a mortal to unite in marriage with an Endless?

Theoretically, given the universal rule that barred Nada from being his lover, you might conclude the answer was no.  Nevertheless, Morpheus had speculated that your Goddess DNA could have shielded you from the dreadful fate his ex had endured as punishment for her transgression.

Ruminating on the matter excessively would only result in mental fatigue.

Shortly thereafter, you journeyed to the hospital with Hal, Chantal, and Zelda, feeling strangely fidgety since leaving the house. You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden unease, yet you were convinced it wasn't tied to any specific ill omen. There was simply an odd, indecipherable voice in the recesses of your mind, somehow linked to Lyta and the newborn child. You sensed that the baby's unusual conception, coupled with the Dreaming's essence flowing through its small body, had heightened your innate sensitivity, likely stemming from your deep affinity with Morpheus's realm and the Dream King himself.

Upon arrival, you found Rose and Jed already visiting Lyta and her newborn son, while Barbie and Ken waited patiently in the lobby for their turn. Barbie's characteristic cheerfulness and signature smile masked an entirely different story lurking behind her eyes. Ken appeared oblivious to her distress, his nonchalant demeanor indicating either genuine ignorance or—more likely—a callous disregard for her feelings.

Men like him were utterly contemptible, nothing more than walking deceptions.

The door to Lyta's room creaked open, prompting Barbie to spring to her feet and stride forward, Ken trailing behind. Rose and Jed emerged from around the corner, looking refreshed; their nightmarish ordeals hadn't been enough to break their spirits.

“My turn!” Barbie chirped, her laughter bubbling up.

"Prepare yourself," Rose noted with a smile. "He's pretty cute."

Ken exchanged a playful, masculine handshake and fist bump with Jed. “Oh, we are ready.”

From your seated position, you caught a glimpse of Barbie vanishing around the corner. Her voice dropped drastically, taking on a serious and resentful tone. “Uh, it’s one at a time.”

Ken's face fell, and you couldn't suppress a flicker of satisfaction. Bravo, Barbie!

“Wha… Oh, come on. Babe! Baby, it was just a dream!”

Glancing at Hal, you noticed he was equally captivated by the unfolding drama. "See? I told you," he whispered.

"Do I really want to know what he's referring to?" You asked.

"Oh, that he was caught being literally blown by another woman in his car? No, I don't think you want to know."

Your jaw clenched instantly. "Well, I'll be damned."

Chantal and Zelda, as composed as ever, exuded the aura of gothic countesses in their distinctive black dresses and veils. You'd grown accustomed to their dark appearance, finding them both incredibly beautiful and sophisticated.

Rose and Jed joined you in the waiting room, the girl’s eyes meeting yours with a silent understanding.

“How are they doing?” Hal queried, adjusting his position in the chair.

“Great,” she answered. “The hospital’s releasing them tonight and then we’ll fly home tomorrow.”

“Oh, so soon?” Chantal exclaimed.

Indeed, it felt as if no time had passed since you first met Rose. You'd grown so attached to her that it seemed you'd known her for years, not mere days.

“To New Brunswick,” Hal concluded. “How far is that from New York?”

“Mm, less than an hour. Why?”

“I don’t know, I had this dream last night and now I’m thinking, what if I sell the house and move back?”

Evidently, Hal's indecision about his future plans had dissipated, and his mind was now set on a clear course of action.

Rose's eyes lit up with delight, while Zelda and Chantal exchanged a meaningful look. Words were superfluous between them; Zelda's face, though usually expressionless except for her shy smile, conveyed all her companion needed to know with subtle nuances that only Chantal could interpret.

“We’ll buy the house,” she declared.

A collective gasp of shock rippled through those present, with Hal himself rendered speechless by such an unexpected announcement. The initial bewilderment quickly gave way to joyful smiles as everyone recognized how perfectly all the pieces were falling into place.

Your heart swelled with joy as you beheld the radiant expressions adorning the faces around you, a sight that filled you with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

As time wore on, Hal, Chantal, and Zelda took turns visiting Lyta and her unnamed newborn. Barbie's despondency had resurfaced, even as she tried to hide it from the others. Ken persistently badgered her to accept that he meant no harm, but any self-respecting woman would banish a man who dreamed of another straight to Lucifer's hell.

As you approached the vending machine for a drink, Rose excused herself and followed, clearly seeking a private conversation out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Hey.”

"Hey," you answered with a warm smile. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. I'm still a bit shaken when I think about everything that happened, but... Jed's here with me. That's all that matters."

"He's adorable, by the way," you commented.

"You should've seen him when he was five."

You cracked open your favorite caffeinated beverage, offering Rose one as well. She declined with a shake of her head, her eyes fixed on her feet, revealing a nervousness about what she wanted to say.

When she remained silent, you broke the awkward moment. "Thank you for covering for me," you said gratefully. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I figured they'd ask where you went. I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so."

"I must say, you're quite talented when it comes to coming up with excuses on the spot."

Rose laughed softly.  "It wasn't easy. I also had to tell them Gilbert returned to his country due to an "urgent family matter."”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

You leaned against the vending machine, sipping your drink as another silence settled between you. Rose crossed her arms, shifting restlessly with her foot—an anxious tic that only accentuated her growing discomfort.

You sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Rose, it's okay. Whatever you want to ask me, go ahead."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

You shook your head reassuringly. "It's fine, really. I imagine you have quite a few questions."

"I hope I'm not overstepping, but... is there something going on between you and Lord Morpheus?"

While the question didn't catch you off guard, you considered your options. You could have lied, keeping your relationship with the Endless private and shielding your love from potential judgment. Rose had likely witnessed only the darkness surrounding the Lord of Dreams, unaware of the heart of gold it concealed; a heart heavily scarred from suffering and betrayal.

Ultimately, you decided against it.

A faint smile played on your lips. "Yes, Rose. We are together."

"Oh. Wow, I... I had a feeling, but..."

"You didn't want to jump to conclusions."

“Yeah.”She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s just�� there's so much I don't understand. When Dream said Jed and I are ‘Children of the Endless’, what did he even mean?"

How could you explain it to her, considering her great-grandfather was one of the cruelest entities in the entire universe, willing to callously manipulate their own sibling and any mortal they came across?

"Is it related to the golden-eyed man Unity saw in her dreams?"

"I'm afraid I can't provide a definitive answer to that," you confessed, feigning ignorance. "In a way, you and your brother are very special, Rose. That’s all I know.”

She mulled over your words, clearly unsatisfied with the explanation, yet accepting it as sufficient for her current needs.

"He's not… really that bad, is he? Morpheus."

“No. He’s not.”

"I know he didn't really want to kill me. I was damaging his world without even knowing what I was doing. It was all my fault to begin with."

You gently touched her elbow, your hand warm against her skin. "You didn't ask to become a Vortex, it was just an unexpected twist of fate you didn't deserve."

"Yes, but I still hurt my friends. Lyta, Hector... even Jed, Hal, everyone around me."

Your hand slid along her wrist as you took her hand in yours. "It was the Vortex. Not you."

"But I was the Vortex. When Dream took Hector, I hated him. I thought he was a monster. Lyta was suffering, and I blamed him for it."

“And now?”

She hesitated, contemplating her response. "Now… I don't, really. It was harsh, but I was the one who set all this in motion. He did what he had to, I guess."

Your smile widened. “Rose…”

"And Unity," she continued. "She gave her life just to save me."

The pain she endured defied consolation, and a persistent guilt would likely shadow her for the foreseeable future.

"She was happy, you know," you revealed. "And very proud of you."

“Unity…?”

"I won't pretend to understand what you're feeling right now. The trauma you've endured is not something that can be easily erased. But I can tell you this: your great-grandmother is at peace.She made her sacrifice for you without any regrets.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Having weathered numerous losses throughout her life, Rose had honed the ability to remain resilient in most situations, a strength she maintained not only for herself but also for those she held dear.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her voice quivered, and you pulled her into a comforting hug. She gratefully melted into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth she could no longer receive from her mother's arms.

“You’re welcome, Rosie.”

Lyta's baby was a true delight, innocent and tiny, with cheeks so soft they resembled the most delicate confection. You could feel the Dreaming's traces on the infant, yet to anyone else, he appeared perfectly human.  The moment you drew closer, his little hand instinctively grasped your finger, awakening an unexpected maternal, protective instinct in you. Lyta simply smiled, observing how you'd make a wonderful mother someday, a comment you met with a nervous laugh.

The strange gut discomfort you felt vanished as soon as you left the hospital. You had the impression that something about Lyta was not ordinary, but you couldn't quite discern what it meant. Perhaps it was a consequence of your travel between the Dreaming and the Waking World, causing unusual perceptions as you readjusted.

That evening, Lyta and her newborn son were discharged as expected. While Hal finalized the house sale with Chantal and Zelda, you joined the group for a pleasant conversation in the living room, idly toying with your new bracelet as you slid it up and down your wrist. You thoroughly enjoyed your time at the B&B, appreciating the company of wonderful people (with one notable exception) who helped brighten Lyta's mood. The loss of her husband had left an indelible mark, and you admired how everyone tactfully avoided the sensitive subject, refraining from asking questions about the baby's father.

Barbie looked somewhat distracted, her face less vibrant than usual, a subtle alteration that seemed to go unnoticed. She maintained a facade of joy and vivacity, barely interacting with Ken, who sat uncomfortably close to you on the couch. You felt urged to speak with her, but that would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

Despite the tragedies and misadventures he'd faced, Jed was an incredibly adaptable and optimistic kid. His face beamed with smiles, clearly overjoyed at being reunited with his beloved sister. At some point in the evening, you engaged in an enthusiastic discussion with him about popular superhero movies and comics. Rose playfully teased Jed about how, under Gault's influence, he had impersonated a Marvel-esque version of The Sandman. Her lighthearted comment drew genuine laughter from both of you, and Jed rolled his eyes, insisting he had been incredibly cool and powerful in that form.

As night fell, everyone retired to their rooms. Lyta excused herself first, cradling her precious newborn away from the adoring eyes. Rose followed shortly after, and Jed was offered the vacant attic room, formerly Fiddler's Green's quarters. 

Sliding beneath the covers of a bed that wasn't the grand canopy in the Dreaming felt oddly unfamiliar to you. You longed for the soft caress of your enchanted nightgown, the mesmerizing sparkle of crystals, and the soothing ebb and flow of gradient waves on the walls. It seemed paradoxical to long for a place you visited nightly, yet a strange void persisted inside you, like an emptiness you couldn't quite articulate.

With heavy eyelids, you succumbed to slumber, hoping to find Morpheus awaiting your return in the realm of dreams.

You felt weightless, adrift in an ocean of billowing fabrics that obscured the path ahead. Wandering without direction, you pressed forward into the unknown. A distant cry pierced the air, beckoning you closer. As you continued, the fabrics parted, revealing a crib in the distance. The surroundings were hazy and barren, bathed in an ethereal, blue glow.

The more you walked, the farther the crib seemed to get. No matter how hard you tried to reach it, it was as if you were walking on an infinite treadmill. The child inside was whimpering, pleading for you to arrive. 

You pressed on, yet the distance remained unchanged. Anxiety constricted your chest, making it hard to breathe, despite the absence of any visible threat. 

Then the crib began to fade, enveloped by a soft, nebula-like cloud, vanishing into nothingness. You were left uncertain about what you had witnessed, wondering if the baby represented Lyta's son or simply acted as a subconscious symbol; perhaps indicating fresh starts and possibilities. 

Unable to decipher its significance, you endeavored to interpret the dream's significance to no avail. As the vision continued, your consciousness gradually reasserted itself, and you immediately transitioned into an entirely new dreamscape.

You stood in an expansive, surreal forest where trees spiraled upward like great pillars, their trunks woven from shimmering threads of silver and dark purple. The sky above pulsed with colors you'd never seen before—streaks of emerald, amethyst, and soft coral flowing and colliding like auroras. A gentle mist blanketed the forest ground, and as you moved, flowers bloomed beneath your feet. With each step, you ventured deeper into the woods, where strange, beautiful creatures drifted past in the mist, unusual animals with translucent bodies and magical eyes. You felt at peace now, as if this place knew you, welcomed you.

Whatever the crib represented, it couldn't be anything sinister.

The fog lifted, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed a figure nearby. From the shadows between the trees, Morpheus emerged, his presence both distinct and seamlessly integrated into the scenery. Clad in black that melded with the night's darkness, he seemed to carry the very stars in his eyes and attire. As he approached, the dream's colors intensified, responding to him like a lover's touch.

Your breath itched as he stopped before you, his gaze soft yet filled with an intensity that only Morpheus could hold. You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing his cool hand. He took it gently, as though grazing something precious. The bracelet he gifted you gleamed golden alongside your mother's cuff. 

"Your dreams grow more beautiful with each passing night, in ever more resplendent tapestries," he murmured, his voice resonating through the forest.

A smile lit your face, and he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you to bring you into his loving casing. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The dreamscape reacted again, a gentle breeze sweeping through the trees, sending petals into a soft dance around you.

"Every time I'm with you, I feel complete," you whispered.

Morpheus tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as his eyes softened with a tenderness that was becoming more frequent. "Then let this moment last for as long as you're asleep," he said, his lips meeting yours in a kiss as warm and infinite as the dream itself. 

You cuddled against him, sinking into the tranquility and depth of your connection, as the environment continued to pulse with revitalizing energy. 

As you parted, he held your face in his hands, his cerulean irises tracing your every feature as though etching this moment into his memory. "I am bound to you, in dreams and beyond," he uttered genty. "No place, nor time, can keep me from finding you."

"Never cease seeking me. Please."

"Never, my love. And you, forever call upon my name, through the realms of fantasy and waking.”

It was rather striking to reflect on how Rose and Lyta had arrived in Cape Kennedy as a pair and were now departing the B&B as a quartet, a poignant example of dreams' transformative power. Their journey exemplified how the seemingly impossible can indeed materialize into reality.

Hal assured he would join them once everything was properly settled and his belongings were packed, ready for the grand opening of a new live show; the next chapter of his life.

While you couldn't reveal to Rose the book she'd one day write, you encouraged her to pursue graduate school, confident in her potential for extraordinary accomplishments. Your time together had been brief, yet saying goodbye to her tugged at your heartstrings. What had begun as a simple work collaboration in Florida had flourished into something far more meaningful; you'd cultivated new friendships that you hoped would stand the test of time, enduring long after this unexpected adventure.

In the blink of an eye, the house suddenly felt much emptier.

Throughout the day, you noticed Barbie's conspicuous absence from the common areas, rarely catching a glimpse of her around the house. Ken mentioned that Barbie was feeling unwell and had decided to recuperate in their room. The situation raised suspicion, especially since Ken seemed more intent on hovering around you in the kitchen, attempting to engage you in unwelcome conversation. Oblivious to your signals, he disregarded your curt responses and clearly disinterested tone, persisting in his efforts at dialogue.

"You know, I was thinking, you haven't seen much of Cape Kennedy, have you? I could take you on a tour one of these days."

You froze with your cup of tea suspended midair, staring blankly at him as Hal cleared his throat.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have work commitments," you replied, your tone icy.

"Ah, yes, of course. But maybe I could, you know, offer you a ride after dinner one evening?"

You felt utterly disgusted, the tea suddenly losing its flavor in your mouth. Ken's partner was confined to their room, claiming to be ill. But here he was, attempting to flirt with you behind Barbie's back.

His behavior was reprehensible. You abandoned your drink, pouring it down the sink and hastily rinsing the mug.

"Oh! What about dining out? I know a lovely restaurant by the beach."

Ugh.

You considered answering with more excuses to make him desist, but you knew such tactics wouldn't deter a man like him. Ultimately, you decided that a razor-sharp response was your only way out.

"Look, I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate your persistence. And believe me, he's not the forgiving type."

Ken's grin faltered, though he still tried to maintain his charm. "I was just—"

"You're asking me out while your girl is sick upstairs. How considerate of you."

Hal, clearly intrigued by the unfolding scene, became more attentive, his eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You may be accustomed to women fawning over you, but let me be crystal clear: I wouldn't consider someone like you even if you were the last man on Earth."

Ken stood frozen, his smile fixed and hollow, utterly speechless. He seemed incapable of formulating any coherent sentence, caught off guard by your blunt rejection.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," you said, turning on your heel and striding away.

Without looking back, you left Ken to contemplate your rebuff as you climbed the stairs, the kitchen falling into a telling hush. There was only one pressing matter you wanted to address now: Barbie. If Ken was failing to provide the care and support she needed, perhaps a friendly visit could lift her spirits more effectively than her inconsiderate partner could.

You recognized that Ken's intentions weren't specifically malicious, but his casual fantasizing about other women and viewing dates outside his relationship as normal proved he was incapable of full commitment. How Barbie had managed to tolerate him for so long was incomprehensible, but you couldn't help admiring her patience.

You paused before her room, knocking softly a few times, and waited for a response that never came. Though you surmised she might be asleep, an intuition whispered otherwise.

"Barbie?" you called gently. "It's Y/N. Are you all right in there?"

Soft footsteps padded across the floor, followed by the click of the door's lock. As it swung open, Barbie showed up, looking visibly drained. Her face, devoid of its usual makeup, and her refined clothes replaced by simple pajamas, presented a notable difference from her typical polished appearance.

“Hey!”

Her forced glee hit you right in the chest, totally unconvincing, with puffy eyes revealing recent tears.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" You inquired again.

"Yeah! It's just a headache. Nothing serious!"

You exhaled softly, your brow furrowing with concern. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, really! I just need some rest," she insisted with another artificial grin, her voice wavering slightly.

"Barbie, I know I'm still relatively new to you, and you might not feel comfortable opening up to me. But if you need anything at all, even just a listening ear, I'm here for you."

She looked at you in silence, her veneer of cheerfulness intact but slowly crumbling. Her smile faded, lips curving downward as her head dropped in defeat. “Would you like to come in?”

Relieved, you nodded. "If I may."

“Sure.”

She stepped aside, inviting you in. As you entered, the door closed behind you, cocooning the two of you in privacy. Barbie walked to the rumpled bed and sat down, patting the spot in front of her with the familiarity of an old friend at a sleepover. On one of the nightstands, an empty mug stood sentinel beside a few untouched, stale cookies.

"I hope I didn't disturb you," you said, settling onto the mattress.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping at all.”

"What's wrong? I promise you, anything you say will remain confidential."

Barbie let out a chuckle that quickly morphed into a sniffle. "I feel like I can't confide in anyone. People would think I’m silly for even considering this."

You moved forward, tentatively placing your hand on hers. "It can't be foolish if it's keeping you locked into your room."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes welling up as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Have you ever felt like you've lost something important, something that doesn't even exist?"

“What do you mean?”

She released a desperate laugh, a hysterical sound that bore no resemblance to genuine mirth. "I... I used to have this beautiful dream. I had many incredible friends, talking animals that cared for and protected me. Can you imagine?”

You offered an encouraging smile, listening attentively.

"My closest companion was Martin Tenbones, a creature resembling a giant dog... or whatever he was meant to be. You probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Not at all. I'm intrigued and would love to hear more about your dream world," you replied warmly.

"It's hard to put into words. It wasn't just a fantasy, it felt like another life. A place where I could be more than just 'Barbie', but finally myself."

"You're speaking about it in the past tense..."

Her tears flowed more freely. "I’m afraid I can’t dream about it anymore."

Oh…

"Last night, I had no dreams. I know it may not seem like a big deal, but I can tell that something has severed my connection to that world.”

Having witnessed your own dream beach reduced to an arid desert, you deeply empathized with Barbie's attachment to her personal subconscious place. Yet, you were fortunate to be with the Lord of Dreams, who could easily restore it to its original splendor, perhaps even enhance its beauty. Morpheus guided you through the Vortex's perils, extracting you from the Dreaming before your link to it could be irreparably damaged.

“I had a mission, something very important to do. And now I’m lost.”

“Barbie…”

"Ken wouldn't understand," she said with a hiccup. "He never does."

You squeezed her hand comfortingly, warmth spreading between your palms.

"I'm sorry. I told you this would sound stupid."

"Well, it's not," you replied with conviction. "As someone who understands the significance of dreams, I can tell you that your sadness is completely justified."

“Really…?”

"Yes. And please, forgive my frankness, but what do you see in a man like Ken?"

Her lower lip quivered as she wiped away her tears. "Honestly, I don't even know anymore. I thought we were perfect together, as ‘cliché as it can be, given our names."

You shrugged. "Names are just names. I doubt that's why you chose him."

"No. He made me feel special, loved… but I fear that was only a beautiful fairy tale. I knew he enjoyed flirting, but this? It’s just too much for me."

You hesitated to disclose Ken's invitation, fearing it would only exacerbate her distress. Considering her fragile emotional state, you couldn't bring yourself to be so insensitive.

"You deserve far better than what he's giving you. I can see that plain as day."

"I don't know. Maybe I set myself up for this. I should have seen the signs."

"We all make mistakes, we're only human. I've certainly had my share of faults in past relationships."

Barbie's lips quirked into a genuine smile, her first in a while. "Do you think I can find someone who'll treat me like a princess in the real world, too?"

"Not a princess. More like the magnificent queen you truly are."

Barbie chortled, and you joined in, feeling the atmosphere in the room finally lighten. "I mean it. You're beautiful, fun, sweet, and open to imaginative possibilities. You don't need a knight in shining armor, real princesses are perfectly capable of writing their own happy endings. Ken doesn't realize how lucky he is."

She swallowed hard, brushing away fresh tears with trembling hands.

"This is your life, Barbie, and I can't tell you what to do. I just hope you'll make the right choice for yourself. That guy's a perfect idiot, too immature to see how amazing you are."

As you stood from the bed, she sighed shakily, drawing her knees to her chest and curling into a ball. "Y/N… can I ask you something absurd?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I'll ever be able to dream again?"

As you opened the door, you glanced back at Barbie's huddled form. Without Morpheus' insight, you couldn't fathom the fate of dreamers severed from the Dreaming by the Vortex. Lacking this crucial knowledge, you found yourself unable to offer a concrete answer to alleviate her sorrow.

Nevertheless, your heart told you there was only one logical, compassionate answer.

“I’m sure of it.”

The moment you left her to her own reflections, Barbie silently opened the bedside table's drawer, rummaging for an object she had discreetly tucked between books. As she retrieved it, she stared at the rose quartz pendant in her hand, now cold and lifeless, its power inexorably spent.

She clutched the pendant to her chest, inhaling deeply before exhaling, her resolve crystallizing.

As your first week in Florida concluded, your collaboration with Andrew grew more intensive with each meeting. More briefs poured in, shaping the project's trajectory for its official launch. When the first prototypes emerged from the workshop, it became clear that additional revisions were necessary. You had to conced that some of your ideas hadn't translated from concept to physical materials as seamlessly as you'd hoped. Undeterred, you offered to refine the sketches, either by incorporating crucial missing elements or starting anew with concepts that seemed to spring effortlessly from your imagination. This time, Andrew's approval wasn't required; his expression alone conveyed that the newly sewn sets embodied the perfection he had envisioned.

Meanwhile, Ken avoided approaching you in the house, hanging his head like a scolded puppy and barely mumbling greetings in the mornings. The atmosphere grew tense as Barbie silently declared her breakup with him by moving out of their shared room and into Rose's and Lyta's vacant chamber. Unsurprisingly, Ken's futile efforts to win Barbie back were nothing short of ridiculous, every excuse failing spectacularly, as if he were hurling himself against an invisible, elastic barrier.

To compound matters, Hal—Ken's sole confidant—had finally summoned the courage to permanently leave. With newfound confidence, he was determined to reunite with Rose and her family, bolstered by his belief that he could make it on Broadway. 

You had to admit, upon seeing Hal fully prepared with his suitcase and giant bag, he would likely be the person you'd miss the most in Cape Kennedy. Although Gilbert had quickly become your favorite (for reasons that now made much more sense), Hal had treated you like a best friend from the instant you emerged from Andrew's vehicle, seeing past your 'celebrity' status and addressing the authentic you with complete naturalness.

Moved by an irrepressible need to repay his kindness, you offered to create the perfect costume for his Dolly persona in the future, a gesture that made Hal's eyes sparkle with pure excitement. The prospect of wearing your design on stage made him feel like a star, and you eagerly anticipated seeing him perform for audiences worldwide.

As the days passed, the house grew more solitary, transforming into an unrecognizable place. Even Barbie decided to depart for New York by the tenth day of your stay, unwilling to endure Ken's omnipresence and compelled to rediscover herself through a new beginning. One by one, they were all witnessing their lives completely turned upside down, for better or worse, by the hand of Destiny. A fate that was clearly set in motion by the Vortex's influence, affecting their Waking World just as much as their dreams.

"Thank you, Y/N. You're a sweetheart," Barbie uttered gently, embracing you on the threshold. Her hug was so tight it nearly squeezed the breath from your lungs. "Let's keep in touch. I'd love to see you again sometime.”

"Absolutely," you said, gently rubbing her back. "Take good care of yourself, Barbie."

“You too.”

As the taxi pulled up, Barbie strode out of the house without a backward glance. Inside, Ken slumped on the couch, his face a portrait of total defeat. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had royally messed up, with no hope of mending the rift he had caused.

Barbie radiated a diva-like aura with her impeccably styled hair, flawless lipstick, and chic sunglasses that gave her the stunning look often adorning magazine covers. She waved at you, Chantal, and Zelda before entering the car, occupying the backseat with the grace of a regal swan. A large pink pendant hung from her neck, one she had never worn before, glistening and glowing under the sun.

In fact, it shimmered more brilliantly than any ordinary gemstone, causing your own necklace to suddenly warm against your skin. Before you could take a closer look, Barbie was gone, leaving her former home behind for an uncertain future.

You shook your head, dismissing that persistent feeling of déjà vu. Your attachment to the Dreaming was simply playing tricks on your mind, causing you to see things that weren't actually there.

Probably.

During your final days in Florida, you toiled relentlessly at Andrew's workshop, scarcely finding time to return to the B&B for rest. Chantal and Zelda seemed now solitary figures, quietly enjoying their drinks in the hushed house. Ken often disappeared into town, presumably in pursuit of a new conquest to seek solace in new companionship. Yet they looked unperturbed, their sweet smiles ever-present and nary a complaint voiced. 

While they genuinely missed their friends, Chantal and Zelda were self-sufficient women who found complete contentment in each other's company.

On the eve of your return to London, you had another vivid dream. While the recurring image of a newborn crying in an empty, bluish space persisted, your nightly visits to the Dreaming were becoming increasingly lifelike.

Morpheus accompanied you on most of your explorations, walking beside you or standing amidst the evocative landscapes of his realm. He always welcomed you with the warmest expression the Lord of Dreams could muster, his subtle smiles illuminating his face at your arrival.

After much hesitation, you finally broached the subject with Morpheus about Barbie and how the Vortex had removed her from the Dreaming. 

"Is there anything you can do to help her?"

Morpheus shook his head, giving you a thoughtful but firm response, rooted in his views on the purpose and temporality of dreams. “Each dream has its time, its arc, and its end. Her connection to The Land was severed as part of a larger design, one that is beyond any individual's desires, even mine."

Noticing your crestfallen countenance, he elaborated. “Dreams are both gifts and lessons, my love. They are there to guide mortals, but they must also be let go when their purpose is fulfilled. To restore it now would be to disrupt the path she must walk."

"So, she's unable to return to her dreams?"

"One day, perhaps. A dream is alive only when it meets the dreamer’s true need."

You averted your gaze, allowing his words to settle in your mind. After a moment, you turned back to him, your eyes glistening with emotion. "If I were severed from this world and from you, it would be unbearable. I can't imagine my life without the Dreaming, I would probably die."

Your words deeply moved him, though he tried to conceal it behind his characteristic gravitas. "You would not be disconnected from me, my love. Not truly. No matter the forces at play, I told you I would always find you, in dreams or beyond them."

He reached out to touch your face, offering comfort and promise, acknowledging your compassion and worries without dismissing them. "If ever such a fate were threatened, I would bend the realms themselves to keep you close."

Your smile returned as your fingers toyed with the lapels of his coat. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Even the King of Dreams is not immune to the fear of loss," he admitted. "And you possess a unique quality that no other mortal will ever match."

"Are you implying that the Dreaming would suffer without me?"

"Not only the Dreaming. I am its ruler, yet above all, I am a being irrevocably bound to your heart."

That very heart raced with exhilaration, sending waves of warmth cascading through your body like a gentle fireworks display.

"You’re so sweet,” you expressed.

“Sweet?”

You tilted your head. "I know you're all powerful and mighty, and that 'sweet' isn't typically associated with you. But with me, you're so wonderful that I doubt any other being in existence could ever compare."

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with veiled intentions. “Perhaps I should remind you of my true nature, my love. As befits the King of Nightmares.”

You laughed, crossing your arms with a glint of curiosity on your face. "Oh? Is that a challenge? Because, Your Majesty, I'm not one to run away so easily."

For a moment, silence blanketed the space between you. The air grew still, charged with electric anticipation as Morpheus's posture shifted. An otherworldly darkness seeped into the scene, dimming the ambient illumination. Cold moonlight took its place, casting elongated shadows on the ground. The world around you transformed into a vast canvas, painted in shades of deep blue and ink-black, completely bereft of stars.

With a flick of his hand, Morpheus stepped back. The space stretched into an endless void, where whispered secrets echoed and your surroundings dissolved into an illusion of midnight sky. His form began to transform, subtly at first. His robes billowed like storm clouds, infused with silver strands that glinted like trapped starlight. His eyes glowed with pale fire, and his hair flowed freely, no longer tethered by gravity.

Despite the imposing figure before you, you felt no fear. In fact, the beauty of it—the raw, infinite greatness—thrilled you to no end and made you shiver in awe rather than terror. He embodied everything he claimed to be: powerful, enigmatic, and fearsome—yet he remained, undeniably, the man you loved.

He circled you slowly, his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned in from behind. His voice boomed, almost demonic, though unmistakably his own. "So bold… and so fragile. Will you not bend and yield to your Lord?"

You recognized this as an enthralling performance, a thrilling roleplay that left you completely spellbound.

"You are magnificent," you breathed, your voice brimming with admiration and something else. "Truly, I don’t need to tell you how willingly I'd surrender to you. You already know."

His hands wrapped around your waist, strong and secure. "It seems," he said with a wry smile, "that even the King of Nightmares cannot dissuade you."

"Never," you replied, tracing delicate patterns on his hands. "Not when I know that you'd never harm me."

His dark and menacing guise melted away, replaced by a soft chuckle as he reverted to his normal form. The inky blackness dissipated, giving way to the previously vibrant colors of the dreamscape.

With a touch of reverence, he lifted your hand to his lips. "Perhaps," he murmured, "I shall remain 'sweet' for you alone."

You threw your head back, sinking against his chest as laughter bubbled from your lips. Your eyes sparkled with immense happiness and love. "Now I wish I never had to wake up."

For the remainder of the night, Morpheus granted your wish, keeping you blissfully ensconced in the realm of fantasies.

As you settled into your seat on the plane home, you went through a curious distortion of time. The fortnight in Cape Kennedy and week in the Dreaming had passed in a blink, yet paradoxically left you feeling as though you'd been away for eons.

You were exhausted, the jet lag evidently taking its toll on you. Readjusting to your regular routine proved unexpectedly daunting, as you had to deal with frequent migraines and an unsettling tendency to nod off at inopportune moments throughout the day. 

You missed the friends you'd made, the cozy ambiance of the former B&B, and the tranquil Floridian nights that contrasted so starkly with London's bustling soundscape.

The newborn continued to make sporadic appearances in your dreams, but the crib remained just out of reach, its cryptic message undecipherable. Curiously, this recurring vision didn't unsettle you; upon waking, it often slipped from your mind entirely.

Upon returning home, you quickly established regular long-distance communication with Hal and Rose. They now shared a peaceful home as a family, along with Jed, Lyta, the baby, and an intriguing man—a friend of Rose's—who had seemingly won Hal's heart. Rose had finally submitted her college application and begun brainstorming ideas for her future book. Meanwhile, Hal was actively pursuing a career as a Broadway performer, eagerly anticipating news of a potential audition.

After carefully considering numerous options, Lyta finally settled on a name that perfectly suited her son: Daniel Hall.

Corbyn & Jones was busier than ever, inundating you with work the moment you stepped into the office. The company overflowed with orders and requests for new projects, which Ella presented as promising opportunities for the future. With the Fashion Show behind you and sales skyrocketing across online platforms, local stores, and social media, your friend decided to entrust you with an equally creative venture, one with the potential to become the company's crown jewel. Both figuratively and literally.

"Are you serious?" you asked, your eyes wide as you stared at her face in disbelief.

"I don't see why not. You've always had a passion for jewelry, and I distinctly remember you designing some back in high school."

"Those were just early experiments, hardly worth mentioning."

She grinned, casually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You used to say the same about all of your sketches. Yet here you are." 

You sighed, massaging your throbbing temples and stifling a yawn. "Fine, you've got a point. But I'm wondering, are we really prepared to take on more work? It's not exactly difficult for people to find quality accessories from other sources."

"We've received numerous requests for jewelry to complement our products. It's a bold move, but we can't afford to ignore our competitors."

You brought your finger to your lips, contemplating. "I guess you’re right."

"Look, I know you've just returned from Cape Kennedy and haven't had a chance to catch your breath, I can see how tired you are. Still, you're the only one I can trust with this," Ella explained. "Whenever I scroll through my social media feed, all I see are the same products being marketed as 'exclusive drop collections' by different brands or influencers, simply because they're trending. I don't want to slap our name on a generic necklace, bracelet or ring and claim we made it. I want something special, something that only you can create."

Ella had always been fiercely competitive. Seeing an opportunity to make a real impact, her eyes lit up with a reinvigorated enthusiasm.

"I'm not asking you to do anything complex, I swear. You have an excellent sense of style, and you're very distinctive. You emanate this constant aura that's simply goddess-like."

You couldn't help but chortle, amused by the unintended accuracy of her statement. Whatever she saw coming from you was no longer a coincidence, now that you were aware of your true origins.

"I'll cover the material costs, and Oliver has connections that could help with soldering services and gem sourcing. Perhaps you could do some research? Visit a few places, gather inspiration, and compile elements you find appealing?"

As Ella elaborated, you found yourself increasingly drawn to the idea. You couldn't shake the concern about managing deadlines with yet another project on your plate, but it was worth a try if it meant outperforming competitors and surpassing market projections.

"I've already got a couple of places in mind for you to check out."

Your gaze drifted to your wrist, where your mother's bracelet and Morpheus' bangle gleamed under the artificial light. With these treasures as inspiration, you realized you might already possess the guidance needed to excel in this new endeavor.

“Fine, let’s do it,” you declared.

"Really? You're on board?"

"I mean, you're still my boss. We might be friends, but that's no excuse for me to slack off or neglect my responsibilities. Besides, you might be onto something here, and I'm genuinely curious to give it a try."

Ella slammed her hand onto the desk with such force that you nearly jumped out of your seat.

"Ha! Those businesses better brace themselves. We've got a secret weapon right here!"

"Come on, Ella. I'm hardly a secret weapon."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to us. And to me, because I've found my bestie again. I'm absolutely thrilled to be working with you!"

You nodded, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips. "Right. Remember how we used to daydream about this when we were teenagers?"

"How could I forget? I always wanted to run my own company with you as my creative genius. You'd tell me it was too good to be true, but I never stopped insisting it was possible. And now, look at us!"

"Indeed, I was wrong. I must admit, I was quite the pessimist back then."

Ella rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips with an air of confidence and satisfaction. "Yeah, and I definitely prefer this version of you."

"I could take offense to that, but honestly, I feel the same way."

“Yaaaaas! Slay!!!”

The office door swung open, and Oliver strode in, clutching a handful of papers. His eyebrow arched quizzically at the scene before him. By now, you were certain he'd grown accustomed to his wife's antics, yet the expression on his face was absolutely priceless, especially as he caught sight of her, arms thrust triumphantly skyward.

"What's all this ruckus?"

"Oops, sorry, love. Was I too loud?"

"I'd wager they heard you clear across the street," Oliver quipped, his lips quirking into a sardonic smirk.

Ella waved off his comment, taking the papers he offered. "Is this the list you mentioned?"

"Yes. I assume you've already informed Y/N about our new quest?"

"Indeed, I have. We were just discussing it."

Oliver pushed his glasses up his nose, turning his attention to you. "Given Ella's reaction, I take it you've accepted our proposal."

Your friend’s bouncing movements reminded you of a cartoon character, the passage of years only enhancing her comedic charm.

You gracefully crossed your legs, settling into the swivel chair with your arms and back comfortably supported, ignoring the looming fatigue and headache. "When do I start?"

Once again, you found yourself wandering through an unknown landscape, a twilight meadow bathed in the deep, velvety indigo of night. The profound quiet was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves as you stepped forward, drawn toward a soft radiance in the distance. Fireflies danced around you, their tiny lights twinkling like celestial guides along your path. The air carried a mysterious warmth, a gentle weight that felt both calming and comforting, as if something unseen were embracing you.

As you moved closer, the glow revealed itself to be a single flower blooming amidst the grass, its petals as bright and sparkly as moon dust. Intrigued, you knelt down, extending your fingers. The petals pulsed with a gentle rhythm, reminiscent of a soft heartbeat. Your hands hovered over it, sensing the energy of something alive, tender and delicate, yet infinitely strong. A deep connection stirred, an instinctive awareness that you were being entrusted with something precious.

When you touched the flower, warmth spread through your palms, wrists, and elbows, life itself flowing into your veins. You closed your eyes, breathing in the faint scent of lavender and sweetness. An overwhelming tenderness rose inside your heart: a love you couldn't describe, a caring that was simply boundless.

A delicate whisper drifted through the meadow, a soothing voice that seemed to come from both earth and sky. "This light now belongs to you," it echoed. "Soon, it will flourish. And so will you."

The flower dissolved, sinking into your chest like a subtle pulse settling inside your heart. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, silencing any sound. A thin layer of bright blue fog descended, and then you heard it again, the familiar cry of a child, the now visible distant crib beckoning you.

You attempted to rise, but were anchored to the grass as if you were a deeply rooted tree. Strangely, you felt no desire to resist or struggle. A flicker of concern crossed your mind, yet an underlying calm reassured you that there was no cause for worry.

This time, your voice emerged, speaking a single name, the only one that occupied your thoughts.

“Daniel…?”

The baby neither reacted, cried, nor moved. Suddenly, silence blanketed the scene, and everything around you faded into nothingness.

You awoke, the residual warmness from your dream still occupying your chest—a mysterious sensation yet to be understood. However, as comforting as it felt, the moment you pushed yourself into a sitting position, reality struck. You were drenched in sweat, your nightgown clinging uncomfortably to your skin. A wave of nausea surged from the pit of your stomach, twisting your face into a grimace. 

You dismissed it as insignificant, attributing it to the minor anxiety that had followed you from the realm of dreams into the Waking World. The recurring presence of that child in your subconscious remained an enigma, leaving you uncertain about its nature. As Morpheus had explained, Daniel Hall's conception during Lyta's dreams forged an unbreakable bond between him and the dream realm. Could the newborn be reaching out to you in Morpheus' domain for some unknown reason?

Despite wracking your brain for answers, you were simply left with even more questions.

You tried to lie down again, pushing aside the bedsheets as you took deep breaths. Unfortunately, the queasiness persisted. Instead of easing, it grew more intense, significantly so.

And then you felt it, that dreadful urge to expel whatever was churning in your stomach. You leapt out of bed with lightning speed, one hand clamped firmly over your mouth as you raced to the bathroom. You despised it and fought to contain it, but whatever it was, it refused to subside on its own.

Unable to hold it back any longer, you hunched over the toilet, your body convulsing as you violently ejected the remnants of your dinner. The ordeal continued relentlessly until you felt completely hollow, as if you'd purged every last morsel from your system—intestines and all.

When it was finally over, you relished the relief, washing your mouth and face to rid yourself of the sticky residue of sweat on your skin and the acrid taste persisting on your tongue. Your abdominal muscles contracted painfully, as if you'd just completed an intense set of sit-ups at the gym.

Good lord. You felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

Whether you had eaten something bad or were experiencing delayed symptoms of travel burnout, you desperately wished for this nausea to leave you alone. It had ebbed and flowed throughout the night, barely relenting even as you left the house. 

It was unusual, you rarely had digestive issues. Considering the whirlwind of your recent trip, flying to Cape Kennedy, physically moving in and out of the Dreaming, and then back onto the plane home again, it probably made sense that your body was finally feeling the strain. 

Fortunately, you made it through your workday without a repeat of your previous night's disaster, successfully keeping your lunch where it belonged. You convinced yourself it was just a random occurrence, a fleeting ailment that would pass as your body naturally recovered.

You pored over your sketches and scoured your Pinterest boards for further inspiration. With an array of gemstone pieces and chains spread across the table, you let your creativity flow, crafting designs that were both unique and original. Ella desired something innovative, jewelry that stood out from the current market offerings, and you were determined to exceed her expectations.

The process was unexpectedly enjoyable and fulfilling, surpassing your initial skepticism. Your research and material acquisitions produced impressive results, with several of your creations already sent to the workshop for soldering and welding. Weariness was a constant companion, testing your resilience and mental focus over the following days. Nevertheless, a few stifled yawns and tired eyes paled in comparison to the joy of seeing your efforts appreciated.

Just as you were ready to forget about your mysterious illness, the nausea suddenly resurfaced one day as you walked out of the shower. It lasted only a few minutes before subsiding, allowing you to sleep without feeling sick or making another dash to the toilet. 

Over a week had elapsed since your return, and with your appetite slightly diminished, you began to question whether your random symptoms were truly related to the trip and the tumultuous circumstances you had encountered in Florida. Ella and your colleagues appeared unaffected after your recent restaurant outing, yet you couldn't shake the suspicion that something on your plate might have caused potential food poisoning. 

On the other hand, you wondered if this physical disorder was merely a result of exhaustion. Your father had noticed your pallor and evident fatigue, expressing concern about how unsteady you seemed on your feet. With the new jewelry project underway you'd been bustling about, visiting stores and different studios to source new supplies. You hadn't exactly been cautious, willingly pushing yourself far beyond your limits.

During your walk home from a fruitful excursion, you had to stop multiple times due to unexpected breathlessness and lightheadedness. These strange manifestations left you feeling disconcerted, as your body behaved in ways you didn't recognize.

Ultimately, you dismissed your condition as a mere stomach bug or something equally benign. You saw no reason to fret over what you believed would be a short-lived malady.

Yet, was it truly so insignificant…?

You hadn't seen Hob Gadling since before your trip abroad, and your work subsequently left little room for socializing. In spite of his persistent invitations for drinks, you regrettably had to decline repeatedly. Hob, true to his nature, remained incredibly patient and understanding, encouraging your professional growth while reminding you to prioritize self-care.

Finally meeting him felt like reuniting after an eternity apart. His bright smile was better than any medicine, his company one of the most precious things in the world. To be honest, you felt so sleepy and generally under the weather that you were tempted to reschedule. However, you knew that finding a better opportunity in the near future was unlikely.

"Are you sure you just want tea? You're not ordering anything else? It's my treat, you know."

"I know," you replied. "It's just that I've been feeling a bit off lately."

"Oh, is that so? Sounds like you might be burning the candle at both ends again."

"My job keeps me busy, but it's nowhere near as hectic as when I worked in Wych Cross. I can sit for hours without being called away."

Hob bit into a piece of tart, humming in response as he chewed. 

"How are things going at school?" you inquired.

"Some students can be quite a handful,” he said after swallowing. “But you know how it is."

"You've become a role model for so many young people. That's something to be proud of," you observed.

"Well, when you've lived as long as I have, you inevitably accumulate quite a trove of useful experiences."

"It's not just your extensive knowledge that makes you awesome, Hob. You're intelligent, kind, and always attentive to those who need support."

"If you'd known me back in 1600, you might think differently."

"But I know you now, and I truly appreciate the man sitting in front of me."

His grin widened as he reached for your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe, I have the best influence right here."

"Oh, come on. You were already like this when we first met."

Immersed in the joyful atmosphere, you savored the shared laughter and companionship of a treasured friend. While you loved your creative job, having a day free from work finally gave you the chance to unwind and momentarily set aside thoughts of impending deadlines.

The afternoon progressed perfectly until an unexpected disruption occurred. As the waitress approached the adjacent table, a potent coffee aroma wafted through the room. The scent went straight to your head, compelling you to abandon the remaining of your tea as a sudden wave of sickness engulfed you all over again, reminiscent of a rising tide.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Hob asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Yes, it's just... isn't this smell a little too strong?"

“What smell?”

“The coffee.”

Hob furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. He sniffed the air, taking a moment to analyze it. "I don't know," he said. "It smells like normal coffee to me. I don't find it particularly overpoweri—"

You abruptly sprang from your chair, weaving through customers and tables to reach the mercifully vacant bathroom. Stunned, Hob followed in your wake, gently rapping on the door and calling your name with apprehension. Curious onlookers paused their conversations to observe the scene, while the waitress craned her neck inquisitively.

You heard him, but couldn't respond. Doubled over and coughing, you felt your fluids rushing out uncontrollably. The malaise hit you with full force, dropping you to your knees as your body eliminated its contents a second time, leaving your throat raw and burning. 

"Y/N, please say something. What's happening?"

Only when you were certain you had nothing left to expel did you open the door. A searing pain shot through your forehead, and the entire path from your trachea to your stomach felt inflamed, as if ready to burst from the inside out.

"I'm sorry about that," you mumbled, your voice hoarse. "I'm fine."

"That didn't seem like 'fine' to me. Would you like me to drive you home? I think some rest might do you good, Shortcake."

Completely drained, quite literally, you nodded silently and returned to your table. You gathered your belongings, leaving behind your dinks, unfinished and forgotten. Each step felt leaden and sluggish as you made your way to Hob's car, shrouded in a thick, uncomfortable silence. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the seat, shutting your eyes and clutching your bag's strap tightly.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized dejectedly. "I've ruined our outing."

"I'd rather see you feeling well than keep you out when you're sick to the bone. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have postponed it to another day."

You pouted. "I really wanted to see you today, though."

"And I want you to take care of yourself. I can't die, remember? I've got all the time in the world."

"I just don't get it,” you protested, your voice wavering. “I can feel fine for a few days in a row, and then suddenly I'm puking my guts."

"How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

"I've been feeling a bit strange since I landed last week, but nothing major, really. Just the occasional headache, fatigue, that sort of thing."

The car halted at a red light, its engine rumbling in the quiet street.

"You mentioned the coffee smell was particularly strong."

"Yes, I don't know why. I could not stand it."

“Mh.”

Noticing his unusual quietness and the contemplative look on his face as he mulled over your words, you narrowed your eyes. "Why?"

"Ah, it's nothing, Shortcake. I've heard there's some sort of stomach bug going around. You might have caught that."

The car resumed its journey, winding through the thoroughfares of London as you gazed out the window, your eyelids feeling impossibly leaden. “Yeah. Could be.”

Morpheus strolled through the library, his presence as ubiquitous as the tomes on the shelves and tables, as if they were fragments of his very essence. He returned the volumes borrowed from Lucienne: various dream records he'd examined to evaluate his realm's current state and its power's impact on the Waking World following the Vortex incident. 

He scanned the spines of the books before him, striding along the rows of shelves with his customary regal bearing. A faint smile played on his lips, a testament to his renewed control, now bolstered by your unwavering support and endless affection.

His fingers glided along the leather bindings, caressing centuries—if not millennia—of transcribed stories. From across the library, Lucienne and Matthew's distant voices wafted through the atmosphere, lively and tranquil, signaling the full restoration of every fracture caused by the previous disturbances.

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented, profound sense of bliss and inner peace. After innumerable centuries of existence, he finally grasped the true meaning of being cherished, and his understanding of love had undergone a drastic metamorphosis. A human had taught him more in a brief span than eternity ever could, smoothing the sharpest edges of his being. You had believed in him when everyone else saw him as a monster, perceiving his past misdeeds as steps in his growth.

Little did he know that his newfound self-assurance was about to shatter in the face of an imminent revelation.

As Morpheus turned to depart for the throne room, a whisper from behind arrested his attention. A large, weathered tome jutted out from the long row of books, awaiting the Lord of Dreams to hold it. The Endless paused, pivoting slowly, and gazed at the book with surprise as he approached. 

Its cover was pitch black, adorned with faintly scratched embroideries and devoid of any visible title. As Morpheus lifted it from the shelf, he was struck by its physical lightness, yet felt a spiritual weightiness emanating from it. Gingerly, he opened the volume, unsure of its contents. The title was emblazoned in large, inky letters on the first page:

Morpheus felt his blood run cold, his fingers turning even icier. He had heard of that name before, old tales circulating from one shaman to another, handed down to priests and storytellers until they remained nothing but a legend with no foundation. It was described as a book full of dire predictions, destiny itself written upon its pages, bringing forth catastrophic prophecies that were never proven.

Not once in his eternal lifetime had Morpheus encountered this book in the castle's library, or in any library, for that matter. He had long dismissed it as nothing more than a fanciful myth. 

Its sudden appearance in the Dreaming could only mean one of two things: either it was a product of someone's vivid imagination, or it heralded an impending catastrophe. Morpheus dreaded the latter possibility, considering all that he and the Dreaming had endured over the past 106 years.

The second page lay blank, its rough, ancient parchment unyielding beneath his ethereal touch. He flipped it over, and the third one featured a Celtic-inspired illustration in black and gold ink, depicting a tarot-like tableau of a full moon reflecting on still waters, with a solitary female figure wading into the depths. In the center, a short paragraph had been inscribed.

Morpheus's entire form tensed as he continued leafing through the book, only to discover another image, a counterpart to the previous one. Instead of the moon, the sun now dominated the landscape. The same woman stood with her back turned, clad in a long gown, still traversing the vast ocean ahead. In the middle, another caption stood out.

Morpheus staggered, clutching the shelf before him for support. These images weren't unfamiliar; everything depicted on those pages represented only one thing—what he treasured most in the entire universe: you.

He pressed on, both terrified and desperate to uncover more. With each turn of the page, he saw more of you, and even himself, intricately woven into the written lines and painted details. The book revealed something he had never wished to know, yet somehow, deep in the core of his love for you, he had already foreseen it.

A once-distant fear, something he fervently hoped would never recur as it had in the past, now a tangible possibility.

As understanding dawned, Morpheus sank to the floor, his legs buckling beneath him. His chest tightened agonizingly, as if a hidden power sought to tear his heart from his body and destroy it. He was in agony, metaphorically shattered into countless fragments, as the mental image of you splintered like a fractured mirror, your radiant smile morphing into the deepest frown.

Sequestering himself in that spot, he read the enigmatic messages obsessively, only to conclude they portrayed the most unfavorable fate imaginable. One he was determined to protect you from, no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing everything you represented for him.

And for the Dreaming.

Mere moments ago, he was elated at the thought of having you by his side, bringing out the best in himself, shaped by your unconditional love for all that he was.

The next, his eyes closed, a solitary tear tracing a silent path down his pale skin at the devastating prospect of what he had to do for your sake.

I'm sharing this for reference, so you have a clear image to associate with it; the bangle Morpheus placed in the memory box is essentially like this one. I purchased it online recently, and it reminded me of The Sandman and my fanfiction, so I've decided to include it. ✨

What did Morpheus find in the library just now??? 😱 😶 🙊 😭

Also, if you're wondering what I suspect you're wondering, the answer is… it could be either yes or no. 😏

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 23 (coming soon) ->

[just-some-random-blogger]

Reborn & Remade

In which Cori hands you your husband, literally, because he, well, turned into a baby.

Dream of the Endless x Reader (& The Corinthian) | 1k+ | cw: gender neutral!reader, remade!corinthian, the dad that stepped up!corinthian, babie!dream, crackfic, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: ok #1 this is technically an x reader but is really not cos dream is a BABY, and #2 this is technically based off the comics... but is also not lol. dw if you didn't read them, it's fine, and if you plan to read the comics, no spoilers here (; I just love remade Corinthian a lot 😩 he is so special to me hes such a Great Pyrenees.

Tagging: @sloanexx @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @aralezinspace @shadow-pancake9

I stretch my legs straight out on the bed. I adjust my laptop on my pillow then type away as I eat a chocolate éclair. I sigh and link my fingers together, stretching my arms up overhead. I yawn and check the time.

I go through my work, scrolling down the screen that was beginning to burn my tired eyes.

You know what would be great right now? A cuddle. Beds were meant for cuddles not this. Gosh, I wish someone would hold me right now.

I sigh through my nostrils and wrap an arm around myself as I examine the paragraph I had typed out.

I wonder what Dream is doing. I don't even remember the last time he's been here.

I flinch when I see a typo. I go back a sentence and realize I've zoned out on a whole paragraph. "Fuck," I scroll up the whole page.

I grab another éclair and raise a brow at my plate when I find there were none left, "what the fuck, I already ate 3?" I push my laptop away, "ain't no way."

I grab my empty plate and leave my laptop on the sheets. I head to the kitchen, dump my plate near the sink, then inspect my fridge. I pull out the box of eclairs and spot there were only 3 left, meaning I really did eat 3, "I don't even remember eating the third one."

I whip my head to the side when I hear a knock on the door. I stuff the box back in the fridge, "who is it?!"

"It's me!"

I make a face and walk to the front door, "that didn't help at all."

My expression tightens when the knocking gets louder and the words, "it's me!" are repeated.

Once I get to the door, I ask, "do you have a name, it's me?"

"That would be Corinthian, your grace."

My eyes widen. I immediately open the door.

Corinthian, with his tousled blonde hair and ear to ear grin, stretches his arms out and curtsies, "a pleasure to meet you, my liege."

"Meet me?" I raise my brows and give a confused but bemused smile.

"I've been remade," he straightens up.

I immediately make a face of realization.

"So, I don't really remember you," he tilts his head and shrugs.

"Then why did you reply to me like you did?" I furrow my brows.

"Well, I took a chance that you would remember me," he smirks, lowering his shades, "and you did."

I chuckle and shake my head.

Corinthian grins with the teeth in his eyes and fixes his shades, "my lord has sent me to retrieve something from you as he is currently remaking himself."

I perk up, "Dream?" I step forward and look past him, "where is he?"

"Why," Corinthian bends down and picks something up, "he's right here."

I pull my head back when I am faced with a blue eyed baby, nibbling on his fingers. I immediately think of how similar the gleam of this baby's eyes were to my husband's but overlook it as I watch the poor thing hang from his armpit. I find myself instinctively reaching out for the child with messy, dark hair, and saliva coated lips.

I think to reprimand Corinthian for leaving a baby on the floor but turn to see he actually had a baby carrier by his feet.

I cradle the baby in my arms as Corinthian grabs the said baby carrier, proceeding to then walk in. He surveys the area, "my lord is incredibly soft, so no sharp edges please."

I step back, trying to make sense of what he just said, as the tall and slender nightmare continues to look around before placing the baby carrier on the coffee table. He rubs the edge of the table, "this counts as a sharo edge."

I make a face.

He turns to me, "I'm meant to take a necklace that was gifted to you by your husband. Mind telling me where that thing would be?"

I adjust my hold on the baby and look down at him. The child draws his slobber-covered hand out of his lips and reaches out to my face. I grab his wrist before he could touch me, "uh," my lips curl in disgust, "I think it's in my bedroom, on my vanity table."

Corinthian nods. He walks off.

"That's my bathroom," I tilt my head the other way, "bedroom's over there."

The Corinthian immediately pivots.

I look down at the baby and his wet hand, "did Dream say why he wanted it?"

"Not really. But you could try asking him."

"But he's not even-" I cut myself off when I realize the Corinthian is no longer in the room.

I walk to the kitchen and decide to wash the child's hand. After doing so, I am struck with the realization I was suddenly playing mother to an unknown infant. I look at the boy's face and wipe the dribble off his chin with the collar of his multi-colored jumper.

"Cori," I call out, "whose baby is this?"

The baby blinks at me.

I set him down on the counter and fix the jumper on him. The baby smiles. I find myself giggling because of how darling he looked, "you're a cute one, aren't ya?"

"Mine?" the Corinthian reluctantly replies, "I don't understand the question."

I furrow my brows and turn to where the door of my bedroom was, "what do you mean you don't understand? Does this child have parents? Is he a dream?"

"Oh, he's Dream alright."

I turn to the baby, "aww, you're a cutie little dream? That means your papa is my husband and that would make me your--."

"Why do you have so much trash in your drawers?!" Corinthian calls out.

I make a face and snort, "sorry."

I walk into my bedroom with the little dream and push the nightmare away from the mess he just made messier. I hand him the baby and he immediately takes him into his arms.

"Did you try asking him?"

I rummage through my things, "what?"

"About the necklace," Corinthian clarifies.

In truth it clarifies nothing to me, which is why I shoot him a look, "ask who?"

"Dream," he bounces the baby in his arms, "I figured because you're married, he might actually respond to you."

"What do you mean?"

"He really is just a baby right now," Cori says as the baby laughs as he is bounced. The two laugh at each other for a good moment.

My face falls by the time they stops cause I finally realize what Cori means, "are you saying that's Dream?"

Corinthian turns to me as he releases his final chuckle, "you don't recognize him?"

I stop in my search to really look at the baby. The child sighs after calming down from his giggles and tiredly leans his head on Corinthian's chest, eyelids growing heavy.

"Dream?"

The baby perks. He silently looks back at me.

Corinthian looks down at his master.

I gasp, "what happened to him?!" I walk towards them.

"He's remaking himself... I think," the nightmare raises a brow, "or I guess reborn... -ing?"

"So I'm married to a baby?!" my jaw drops. The baby tiredly looks at me as I gently rub his soft cheek. He smiles softly at this. I wipe my face in frustration.

"Oh, don't worry," Corinthian smiles and leans Dream on his hip. The baby turns to Cori and reaches out for his face.

"He just-" Cori stops himself when tiny hands grab at his shades. The nightmare looks at the Dream, whose motor skills are horrible. He hands the child his shades, "-needs to get his things-"

Cori stops again when his shades fall to the floor. We all look at it. He secures Dream against him before he picks it up, "-then he'll be back to his old self--" he raises a brow, "or I guess that means his," he puts his shades back on, "new self."

I make a worried face and walk to my vanity, rummaging through my things again.

Corinthian turns to Dream. He cradles him into his arms, allowing the baby to nuzzle into his neck. Dream immediately yawns.

He watches the rummaging before him then announces, "I think our little lord needs a nap." He looks over his shoulder, "mind if I tuck him in your bed?"

"Yeah, yeah," I respond but spare him no glance, "be careful with my laptop though, okay?"

The Corinthian nods and heads to the bed.

He grabs the laptop and puts it on the bedside table. He then sits down and sets Dream in the middle of the bed. The small thing immediately rolls on his side and closes his eyes. The Corinthian sighs, "sorry, my lord. I didn't know you were that sleepy."

He fixes the corner of a pillow underneath his master's tiny head and then puts pillows on either side of his body, as to make sure he does not roll off. He tucks him in and brushes his hair out of his face. He thinks out loud, "honestly, it's never occurred to me that Dream sleeps."

"He doesn't," I retort.

Cori's brows furrow. He adjusts his glasses as he gazes upon the baby, "must be why he's so tired."

I finally stop my rummaging and turn around. I walk over to Corinthian, catching the way his lips curled downward. I find myself frowning as well. I place a hand on his shoulder, "hey."

Cori turns to me, face glum.

I raise an arm, "maybe this will cheer you up?"

He immediately stands when he sees the necklace dangling before him. He exclaims, "you found it!"

I let out a surprised giggle when he takes me into his arms and seals me into a tight hug. He groans with excitement, "thank you!"

"You don't need to thank me, Cori," I smile, "but you're welcome."

He pulls away and tilts his head, "Cori?"

"Ah," I gather the necklace in my palms, "that's what I call you."

He smirks, "I like it. Sounds dapper," he places his hands in his pocket and poses.

Before I could even laugh and tease him for it, I let out a shocked squeal when he chucks something across the room, causing a loud thud.

I whip my head back just as the Corinthian walks off in that direction.

"YOU THREW A KNIFE?!"

"I killed a cockroach."

"YOU KILLED A COCKROACH WITH A KNIFE?!"

"I was protecting our Lord," he rips the knife out of the wall then looks down at his split victim.

Upon remembering the sleeping baby, I look back at him in panic. He wasn't awake though; he didn't even move an inch after the loud bang. Dream lets out a soft sigh of sleepy contentment.

The Corinthian sweeps the broken insect away with his shoe. He makes a face as he examines my room, "you should really clean up. This is no place for a baby."

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster (Three. Shadow)

Summary: Eros and Psyche retelling with soulmate!AU elements. Morpheus x oc/female reader

Master List

Chapter Track: "Dream State (Dark Day)" by Son Lux

18+ (violence, swearing throughout, referenced child murder)

TAGGING: Tag lists break my posts, BUT I reply to comments the day of new chapters, so you'll get a personal update every time you stop to chat. ;)

A/N: Very short chapter this time. Mental health is quietly shitting itself and making writing difficult. Thank you all for your patience.

3: Shadow

The Not Deer smelled blood.

It smelled her blood, sweet with sand, ripe with magic. And this time, unlike all the others before, she had not escaped – and she was alone.

Teeth aching to close on her living flesh, thirsty for the hot blood flecked with its master’s power, it screamed.

She’d fallen too far inside her little moving fortress, and it couldn’t reach her. It could see, though. It could smell. And wasn’t it wonderful? Fresh red bloomed on her face, filling the night with the scent of the hunt.

If it could get through the window or beat down the door, it could have her. Finally. Eat her all up and lick the fluids off the carpet, crunch her bones and chew the soft fat of her pretty brain. Then sleep off a full belly under a pile of last year’s lacy, skeleton leaves, as it did after every good feeding. It caught children who left the path and slipped just beyond their parents’ sight, drunk men daring the dark on a summer’s night, anyone foolish enough to put too much faith in their own skills under the trees when the sun went down. In a hundred years, there had been many.

But she would be the best meal, and the last, because word already spread that the lord was returned, and soon the Not Deer would be missed. Urgency fueled its attack, but its antlers caught on the window frame, and though its legs stretched too long for a deer, its hooves couldn’t strike the valley between the seats.

It rammed the van, furious. Grey foam frothed from its lips, turning the forest floor black with rot where it dripped.

“What are you doing?”

A century was not long enough to forget its master’s voice, and as it heard the whisper of eons at its back, shock froze over delight.

It stalked the dark long enough to recognize prey. It was not a deer, but it froze like one now with fate ringing in its ears. The hunter waited as the Not Deer came to rapid terms with its renewed vulnerability, and the nightmare turned, clicking, to face the Nightmare King.

The Not Deer did not have words. That was not how it had been made. But the king didn’t ask his question in search of an answer.

The Not Deer was meant to hunt in dreams, to threaten and rip at hunters who killed too many, to remind those without caution what they had to fear. But it feasted on living mortals instead. The Corinthian introduced him to the fantasy, made the cut in the nightmare’s mind that festered into fantasy, and when it had the chance, it left the Dreaming to hunt.

It consumed a young dreamer who’d left his bed to catch frogs under the full moon, and the boy had tasted well. So, the Not Deer found new dreamers to eat, glutting itself on muscle and marrow. Until it smelled her. Then it ate others in frustration, because nothing smelled as good as the one with his maker’s name scratched in her heart, glowing gold, drawing him like a new lamb’s bleats or a dying rabbit’s shriek.

The King of Nightmares simply looked at it and understood. He’d already known. He must have. It was in his nature as it was in the Not Deer’s to admire screams.

“You have betrayed your purpose.” The king spoke softly, and the Not Deer bowed, the tattered flesh on its antlers dragging along the dirt. “And you have chosen most dangerous prey.”

Dangerous not because of herself, for all her tricks. Dangerous as the mate of a greater monster, a jealous king with dominion over every night terror and the things night terrors feared.

Eyes darker than any shadow, hard and unforgiving as obsidian, the king stalked nearer. The Not Deer didn’t move. It had witnessed the Endless’s wrath, had seen others of its kind unmade, and knew it was too late to flee.

A low grown and the chime of shifting glass disturbed the dead quiet of the forest, and the Not Deer wondered if the king’s mate would wake. It hoped. She cared for the weaker ones, the creatures of the Dreaming that did not bite into the waking world as the Not Deer had. Even though it hunted her, hurt her, she may show mercy, may ask for it.

But she slept on, disturbed by other nightmares in the Dreaming, and the king’s frown grew deeper. His attention splintered between worlds, and just as her dreaming had led him to the threat in one world, her distress in the other called him home.

Perhaps he would forget. Perhaps the Not Deer may escape to find more dreamers and keep itself as itself.

Even as it began to imagine what it could chase, kill, taste with more days of freedom, the Nightmare King’s eye turned back to it, and he lifted one long arm to spin the Not Deer back to sand.

“I am needed elsewhere. I have not the time to return the tortures you are owed.”

It bucked while it still had legs, roaring and clicking as body, senses, and mind fell grain by grain. If it thought its master would return, it would never have dared. It did not want to disappear. It wanted, it wanted…

“And yet.” The king stooped to take a handful of the witch’s salt from the circle she’d made around her vehicle, and he sifted it between his fingers, thoughtful as the ash stained his fingertips. “Since it was her pain and fear you stole –” he lifted his hand above the half-formed Not Deer and let it rain down “– let her repay it.”

The black salt caught inside the nightmare and burned like it never had before. It wasn’t discomfort. It wasn’t an unpleasant, stinging shock. It was agony without end, and the Not Deer abandoned any idea of survival or escape in an instant.

It needed to be unmade. To stop. To forget.

Its lord did not lift his hand, and the legless, heaving beast of horror whined in desperation.

“Perhaps this taste of her power will satisfy you.”

If it had words, it would beg.

The Nightmare King’s attention had already shifted back to the Dreaming, however, and he paused only long enough for his shadow to swallow the wailing thing before moving on to where his mate’s dreaming mind called for help.

Then all the Not Deer knew was the darkness and its pain within it. Her scent twisted through the sand, and soon it summoned no hunger, no greed, only unbridled terror it could not escape. Not even when it tore itself apart.

----------------------------------------------

In the Dreaming, the Nightmare King pulled her from the nightmares and held her in his hands for the first time, negotiating an opportunity to soothe her, to feel the places in their souls where they met, so she might understand…

----------------------------------------------

She woke with something damp between her legs and glass studding her palm.

Spears of light poked through the forest canopy, glinting sharp through her eyes, into the sensitive spaces behind them, burning her retinas from the inside out. Rainbows danced in the broken window, reflecting in the shattered diamonds over the floor. The driver’s seat. Her clothes. She decided to wait before trying to move, get her senses together, give her head time to steady before she did anything stupid. Like grating herself like Parmesan cheese on the remains of her window.

She closed her eyes for a minute. Breathed.

Something was off.

Her mouth was dry as cotton, and her tongue did nothing to help her equally dry lips as she pulled it over the broken, peeling skin.

Damn.

She felt…

Confused.

Hurt from her encounter with the Not Deer, but also well rested. Lighter almost. Like she suddenly had more attention, more energy, even though she had glass in her hair and a situation she strongly suspected may lead to a UTI if not immediately addressed. Which of course led to the question of what the hell she and the monster had really done in her sleep, if it was just the wettest dream of her life or if she ought to be running for Plan B. She didn’t think he’d go that far without asking, not after he so carefully sought permission. And wasn’t that a hell of a thing?

Sought permission. Honored it. Soothed her and held in a way her waking mind struggled to grasp. The concepts melted in her thoughts like ice as she woke, dripping away in cool streams of sensation and memory.

He’d been grand, and big, and frightening, but he didn’t use his power to crush her, as she’d expected.

After so many years anticipating the worst, she wasn’t sure what to do with this reality. Where things hadn’t gone tits up. With a creature beyond a god who assumed he had boundaries before she even drew them. Where the worst hadn’t happened.

Her monster had made a riddle of himself for her to solve. She’d need time to come to terms with that. With him. After a lifetime of the darkest expectations… well.

Getting up, though. That came first.

She shifted, wary of the bad, bad glitter threatening an unplanned trip to an urgent care as she picked the best spots to plant her elbows.

Rolling onto her knees, she tried to crawl forward, but something snagged her foot, and she finally noticed the pull of a grip around her ankle. Her heart didn’t skip a beat. Her breathing didn’t stutter. None of the normal, horrified reactions burst from trembling lips and teary eyes.

She knew that hand.

Looking towards the passenger seat, she saw the desiccated arm vanishing into the shadows under the pilot chair. Dead skin flaked away from crusty patches of old blood, and misty black shadows curled within, ready to turn into nightmare claws to terrorize small children.

The fingers squeezed, questioning.

“I’m alright, Jeff.” She reached down to pat him, glad to find something as expected and faithful as the needy nightmare worrying after her wellbeing. “It’s okay. Not Deer still lurking outside?”

Two quick squeezes – No.

“Good.”

The bastard must’ve given up when Jeff arrived. Never did like an audience, and Jeff could be a real pain in the ass if he wanted to be. Pretty literally.

As far as she knew, Jeff was only the arm. Maybe he had a few more inky swaths of darkness he kept tucked under low furniture, but he never manifested anything past a bicep. He didn’t speak with words, only by touch, and they’d learned to communicate by squeeze ages ago.

Once upon a time, he’d been the first nightmare to find her, and on the last night she had a family, he’d clung to her leg like a shackle – warning her, begging her not to follow her curious ears to the raised voices outside her door. Ever since, even though he had terrible timing, she never doubted his intentions.

The touches in her dream with Morpheus told her a lot of other things she wasn’t fully prepared to analyze.

She hadn’t had a fucking cup of coffee yet. She couldn’t be expected to contemplate the single greatest threat to her continued freedom before caffeination. Simply unreasonable. Inhumane.

So, she shoved it out of her mind – again – and climbed out of the mess. Her first aid kit was in the back, under the narrow bunk where she usually slept. She popped the plastic case open with her back to the sliding door, the Not Deer’s dent poking into her peripheral vision as a grim reminder of the previous night.

Another nearly.

She had a strange relationship with death. Dozens of near misses over the years made the sickening adrenaline rush and following crash routine. Some people could schedule their periods in their planners. Some days it felt like mortal peril penciled itself into hers. She was afraid, but too often, and she’d lost the technique of it.

As she plucked a few stubborn bits of glass from her hands, cleaned the tiny holes they left behind, and bandaged everything up, Jeff made himself useful. He swept up the fragments he could reach in long sweeps, pulling it all into the fathomless darkness of his home under the pilot seat. When he’d cleared that side of the van, he withdrew and manifested on the driver’s side. He reached up to pluck shards from the cushions, and his fingers spidered along the carpet, seeking little dangers he could remove from her world. In the time she took cleaning herself up and shaking the glass out of her hair outside, the nightmare cleared the interior of debris.

“Thank you, Jeff,” she said as she hauled herself into the driver’s seat.

She caught her own eye in the rearview mirror. She caught her first look at the bloody goose egg over her left brow, too. Could be worse, though the swelling might get some attention she didn’t want. Rusty red flakes peeled away from the trails leading into her hair, and she tentatively poked the edge of the swelling. Like running her tongue over a canker sore – she just couldn’t help herself, even though she knew how it would end.

Yup.

It hurt.

She groaned, dropping back against the headrest. Fan-fucking-tastic. The scratch needed cleaning and antiseptic, which meant a stop at the nearest convenience store with a bathroom. Nothing like scaring some gas station clerks first thing in the morning.

At least gas stations had coffee.

Fresh air breathed through the broken window, washing the smell of fear and blood out of the van. She took in as much as she could.

She needed to go, but she wasn’t sure where, and going never got her very far without a destination. Her pockets had bottoms, and she’d hit the seams fast if she didn’t budget gas money.

Where should she head? What did she need?

Out of sight, Jeff softly grasped her left ankle. He hadn’t been so clingy in ages, and she wondered what the little nightmare knew that she didn’t. It wasn’t like he was a great conversationalist. Their talks took creative shortcuts – yes/no taps, Morse code, even a Ouija board once or twice – but they still chewed up time she wasn’t sure she had, and even when well-equipped, Jeff wasn’t chatty. He couldn’t help her work through this chaos.

Oh.

And there was her answer.

Help.

People.

She needed people. Folks to talk with, to lend her an ear and a shoulder to cry on. Someone to distract her, friends who knew her and would keep her safe from rogue nightmares like the Not Deer – maybe even help her pick apart her feelings over the star-eyed Endless and his… attention.

People. Friends. Plural.

Checking the date on her phone, she did some quick math and determined where her favorite group of miscreants might be found. Hadn’t they sent her a text? A few weeks ago? She’d been so consumed with the pull across the ocean to the Burgess estate she barely read it. No time or attraction. Now, though – different story.

Destination in mind, she put on her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the inevitable wind through the open window and turned the key. The van grumbled to life. Bouncing over the rough little road she’d called home for a few nights, she smiled to herself. Happy in the moment, alive with a little purpose and a goal to chase, on her way to friendly faces.

Only after speeding an hour down the highway did she realize what felt so off – the pain in her chest had eased.

Next chapter: Link

[skinnywalker]

Multifandom masterlist

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[undiscovered-horizon]

Hiii. May I request a Corinthian x Immortal Reader if it’s no trouble? Where reader was made immortal two or three thousand years ago and caught Corinthian’s interest when he had to give her a nightmare. Since then, it’s a game of cat and mouse as Corinthian became obsessed with her but reader kept running away from him. Thank you!

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

As many unbelievable stories do, this one also started with a dream: a dark alley, a blinking neon sign belonging to a run-down motel, steam from the subway erupting from underneath the drains, a smell of gasoline and old trash, a sound of distant motors.

You felt the hair on your neck standing up but no matter how frantically you looked around, the alley was unchangeably deserted. Shoving your hands further into the pockets of your beige macintosh, you marched on. In a minute you were going to be out of this unsettling narrow street and basking in the blinking, purple neon sign that once read BLUE IVY MOTEL (a more up-to-date version would be LE IV OTE, whatever that could mean).

Suddenly, you felt your head hit the grimy bricks between two trash containers. A painful ringing in your ears rendered you deaf for a moment. Your eyes wandered, a glossy look at the blurry world could not provide you with any information. Something definitely hit you and each second you didn't know what exactly did so, making your sweat only colder, your heartbeat quicker.

From the echoing ring in your head, a muffled voice emerged as if from far away: "I promise I'll be quick."

Forcing your mind to focus as much as it physically could in your state, you made out a silhouette of a man: tall, lean, confident. The distant blinking of the broken neon sign reflected off of something he was holding - long, thin, sharp edge...

"I'm too old for this shit," you murmured more to yourself than him.

With a clearly experienced punch to his wrist, you made the man drop the knife. The blade clattered against the wet, dirty pavement. The stranger appeared surprised at your skills, clearly having expected you to be nothing short of defenceless. When you had been alive for a good few thousand years, you're bound to pick up a thing or two, even if you’re not explicitly trying. Taking advantage of the confusion, you frantically shoved the man away and tun towards the blinking neon sign LE IV OTE.

A smile appeared on Corinthian’s face: you challenged him and that was something that happened quite rarely to him, if ever. His duty was only to scare you a little, live up to the title of a Nightmare, but by fulfilling his responsibility, he had found something a lot more interesting. Your fighting spirit was impressively vicious - more so than in other humans he had the honour to haunt in their dreams. Nevertheless, Corinthian had failed his one objective. Usually, such a course of events would frustrate him but now, there was a certain excitement inside him. Yes, actually, why should he catch the rabbit if he could chase it? And the rabbit, it’s bound to grow weary one day, isn’t it? He took in a deep inhale at the thought of that fateful moment: you’d be panting and staring at him with big, frightened eyes; begging him to spare your life, to leave you unscathed for whatever reason. There’d be no more strength in you to fight back when he slowly sinks his teeth into your neck. When your skin breaks, he’d ravish the ichor running through your veins.

Corinthian also pondered your words - too old? If he was asked to estimate your age, considering he had been alive for long long centuries, he’d say you were a child. But children don’t look evil in the eye with an impatient grimace; children do not snarl their teeth when trapped in a corner. But you did.

"I'll catch you," he sang under his nose, although you had been long gone by the time. A low chuckle left his lips - the hunt had just begun.



Things only became stranger since that night. Whenever you slept, no matter what horrors and marvels your dreams presented, he was there. Not always coming at you, sometimes he was part of the background, a silent voyeur you noticed only after waking up while recounting the nighttime fantasy. On other occasions, you were thrown into a frenzy trying to run away from him but no matter how fast you were going, he was right behind you, strolling only a few steps from your back. What made this whole game of tag even more disturbing, was that he never made any demands, never actually threatened you, just stalked. A glistening, thin blade in his hand.

But this nightmare had an odd affliction for becoming worse as time went by: from night terrors, the man in the sandy jacket flashed during your wakefulness as though this character had become so imprinted into your imagination, it seeped into your reality. In those short moments when the line between life and death is incredibly thin, between blinks and breaths, you saw him out of the corner of your eye. Watching. Waiting. Crawling towards you.



Your stalker seemed to disappear when you had travelled a few towns over - seeing that same sandy jacket around each corner of your hometown made you feel exposed, naked, as though there wasn’t a corner dark enough for you to hide in. Going on a trip to the middle of nowhere was desperate, there was no lying about that, but it was also very reckless: should the blade-wielding stranger find you again, how do you navigate your escape through streets you had never seen before? A rabbit willingly strolled into the lion’s den, it seemed.

The wind was cold as you were strolling through the deserted roads. Not a familiar face in sight - how surprisingly nice this felt. You were walking through the labyrinth of uncharted streets, busy with your wandering thoughts when a wraith of deja-vu breathed down your neck.

A cold shiver run down your spine as you recognized the noir-esque environment: a dark alley, a blinking neon sign belonging to a run-down motel, steam from the subway erupting from underneath the drains, a smell of gasoline and old trash, a sound of distant motors. Only this time, this wasn't a dream - you were sure of that.

Your back hit the bricks. The strong hand that had pushed you moved away from your shoulder. Opening your eyes, a leaded dread blossomed in your abdomen: a sandy jacket.

Corinthian leaned on his hand which was just next to your head, trapping you between himself and a trash container. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt his body against yours, pushing you further into the grimy brick wall behind you. Trying to calm your breathing down, your lungs were filled with the overpowering smell of musky cologne and a faint aroma of cleaning detergent. The cold blade grazing the skin of your cheek made you shiver - you were left disillusioned that if he did want to kill you, you wouldn't be here, alive. But such observation only complicated this strange game of cat and mouse (or perhaps rabbit and wolf? A lion?).

A humourless scoff left your mouth. With a slight shake of your head, you asked him: "Why do you keep chasing me?"

"Why do you keep running away?" he retorted in a quiet, raspy voice. His warm, surprisingly minty taking into account he's not of this realm, breath brushed against your cold cheeks.

"There's a guy with a knife who hunts me in my sleep.” You did your best to remain calm but the lack of distance between him and you made you unable to stay collected in the slightest manner. “I find it quite fitting to try and get away from him."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. Corinthian leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching your ear. You squirmed and he only continued laughing. "Come on, you can't have fun without at least a little bit of danger."

You moved your face away from his but that only caused the cold blade to put more tension against your cheek. "I don't find it fun or exciting to run for my life.”

"Then don't. Stop escaping and face the big bad wolf." You were fairly sure he was making fun of you but with a cold, sharp blade against your cheek, you couldn’t care less.

"I'll consider that once he puts the knife away."

He stared at you for a moment before he leaned away and slowly pulled away the knife from your skin. Closely watching his hand, you grabbed his forearm the moment he turned the blade away from you and towards himself to put it back into the harness underneath his jacket. With only static of panic narrating your thoughts, you drove the knife into Corinthian’s chest. He stumbled backwards and you run once again, never looking back. Dirty puddle water splashed on your light macintosh as you were mindlessly sprinting away from the Nightmare.

Corinthian watched you disappear around the corner. He didn't run after you, no, he simply stood there - a devilish grin on his face, the tip of the tongue darting between his teeth. Not a wince was seen in his playful expression as he pulled the knife out of his ribs. Great, the sweater was ruined…

If he was just a man, he'd lose all hope of ever crossing paths with you again but he was a hunter, a wolf - a beast born to stop pursuit only when their prey is bleeding out with his canine teeth sunk deep into your skin, devouring your desperation and submission.And the wolf... it only needs to find you once.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Thirty-Five

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: The Fates Meddle in the Affairs of the Endless and His Bonded, Language, Reader Gets Scolded, More Exposition Heavy Plot (For Reader’s Sake/Development).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later). Extra special thanks to my brand new beta reader! Hearts and kisses for you!

Word Count: ~2.1k

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You had been trying to come up with a way to deal with the Corinthian when you felt your soul get sucked from your body once more. Feeling like you were flying through dimensions, your stomach rolled in fear that you would end up, for a third time, at the mercy of Desire. But Desire’s realm was not the place you ended up, no, you ended up in a place you had never been before and had zero recollection of. Looking around, you noticed the crackling thunder and swift wind that seemed to come and go. You stepped forwards.

“This one’s a pretty one,” A woman said, appearing in front of you. You blinked in confusion and she was replaced with an older looking version.

“Yes, sister but this one is far more tenacious than those previously.” Your eyes went wide as the older woman was replaced by a middle aged one.

“You look exhausted, dear? Sleeping enough?” The middle-aged woman asked, your lips parted in confusion but she was replaced once more.

“Of course not!” The older one snapped out. “Not with Morpheus dragging her heart around!’

“You should rest, love,” It was the younger one again, what the bloody hell was going on!?

“Come now sisters, can’t you see we’re scaring the poor thing?” You baulked and shook your head.

“I’m not scared I just have no bloody idea what is going on or how I got here!” You exclaimed loudly, looking at the three woman lurking about. “The last time someone zapped my soul I ended up in Desire’s realm!”

“This one’s got fire,” The young one spoke with a smile.

“Clearly, who else would put up with Dream of the Endless?”

“We aren’t going to hurt you Y/N.”

“You’re quite interesting actually,” You pressed a hand into your forehead, already feeling a headache coming on from the constant switching.

“I do not wish to be rude, but will you please tell me who you are?” You questioned, looking between the three of them with a strained exhale.

“We’re the Kindly Ones, love,” The younger woman spoke, she was the Maiden. She was replaced with the Crone.

“We’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time, Y/N Burgess.”

“For what purpose?” The Mother appeared with a gentle smile.

“You’re fate is bound of Dream of the Endless, dear, it is only natural to be curious about whom Morpheus chose. You do not disappoint.” The Maiden was back.

“Your future is quite unsteady, love, you’d better decide what you are going to do with your bonded.”

“Unsteady?” You repeated. “What do you mean by unsteady?”

“There is no set path for an Endless, Y/N Burgess, the possibilities are Endless.”

“I’m not an Endless,” You stated, your eyebrows pinching at the Crone.

“You are now, love.”

“Your future hangs in the balance as long as you question your bond with Morpheus.” They were being maddeningly unhelpful.

“Well Morpheus can’t make up his bloody mind about whether or not he actually likes being around me so—“

“You do not listen,” The Crone cut you off sharply. You pursed your lips together so you didn’t bite back. “Many have told you of his desire for you, of his yearning. Yet you still refuse to believe.”

“I’m not a bloody—“

“Hold your tongue, child,” The Mother tutted, her eyes flashing sternly. “You do not comprehend the depth of emotion which the Dream King possesses.”

“Then help me understand,” You softly uttered. “I cannot choose a set path if all I feel is confusion and hurt.”

“I hope you don’t have a jealous heart,” The Maiden spoke with a giggle, covering her mouth.

“Morpheus has taken a few lovers in his time.” The Crone added, her wise eyes staring at you intimidatingly. “You might not like what you see.”

“It is not for me to like or dislike,” You carefully responded, choosing your words decisively. “It is Morpheus’ past and if I am to understand him, I should learn all I can.”

“You might just settle your scales, dear,” The Mother spoke before stepping up to you. You watched her wearily as she took your face in hand. “Be not quick to judge.” She then leaned forward and pressed her lips against your forehead.

You closed your eyes as that sucking feeling ran through your body and rock disappeared underfoot. You were floating through space, looking around you at the glittering stars and looming planets. Then you were tugged into a dream. A woman with blue skin, snowy white hair, and who glowed with green fire, was standing in front of a figure you recognized all to well. It was Morpheus, you were sure of that, and when he called her by her name, Killala, with such gentleness and adoration,you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. This must be Morpheus’s first lover, you were sure of it… the adoration and passion on his face was nothing you had ever seen before. Then the scene shifted and you saw Killala ultimately chose to embrace a glowing sun in a lover’s embrace.

The crushing heartbreak and depression emitting from Morpheus was breath stealing and made your body tremble, your knees weak. You were sucked away once more, spiraling around and flipping through space until you landed in an ancient city. It had the lodgings of a city in Africa, it’s architecture and sculpting reminiscent of pictures you had seen in University. The sun overhead beat down upon your body in an unrelenting fashion, you could feel perspiration gathering along your skin. Stepping forwards, the animal pelts you wore upon your body shifted with every step you took in exploration. Morpheus would be around here somewhere, surely. You felt a pull and followed it, weaving your way into the grand palace. You sandal covered feet barely made any sounds against the polished floor of the palace, and when you reached a highly decorated area.

You heard the sounds of moans and breathless sighs. You halted in step, did you really wanted to intrude on such an intimate moment? The subconscious urge to continue your path was all too much to refuse. Heart racing beneath your breast and adrenaline fueling your steps, you walked forwards until you were parallel to a room, out of the corner of your eyes you could see a very beautiful woman with rich dark skin. The man she was wrapped around had equally dark skin, but you could feel his very essence, his soul. That was Morpheus, once again caught up in the throes of love he always seemed to be without. This was not a side of Morpheus you had ever seen, or expected.

The palace faded to ruin, the native people long dead. Nada heartbroken, took her own life. What would Morpheus do now? He could not take a mortal lover without repercussion, but with Nada now in the netherworld, he was free to pursue her. Their confrontation was not what you expected. Morpheus wanted her to be his queen, his eternal lover within the Dreaming. Nada refused and the side of Morpheus you were more accustomed to emerged. He was enraged by her rejection after having such deep, emotional ties to her. Rejection was not something he was accustomed and it stung bitterly. You flinched when he cast Nada to hell, his cruelty just barely masking the agonizing pain you could feel ripping at his heart. He was genuinely devastated that she had refused him.

Your eyesight shifted once more, this time taking on a Grecian look. You didn’t even need to seek the pair out within the Parthenon to know that this was Morpheus’ muse lover: Calliope. The muse was drop dead gorgeous and even made you feel self conscious… but the way she looked at Morpheus, with such adoration and gentleness, you could hardly dislike her. She had an air of elegance that drew anyone in, even you were attracted to her beauty and light. Then you could feel a riff slowly forming between the married pair. It’s tipping point? The death of Orpheus, neither quite recovered from, let alone addressed the grief you knew they both felt. Well, the grief you were currently feeling from Morpheus had your knees bending and eyes watering. He had such strong love for his family, but that riff had entirely torn it apart to unrepairable pieces. You wept from the hurt and pain Morpheus had felt from losing his son.

Another shift, another lover, this one more fleeting then Calliope. A faerie queen and a narcissistic one at that. This affair ended the quickest and yet, you could still feel the sting of hurt that ate away at Morpheus’ brittle heart. By now your own heart felt like it was made of a crystal that was slowly breaking down, each lover chipping away at the softly beating glass.

The next one was a far more gentle soul, a woman by the name of Alianora, sent to aid Morpheus (by Desire of all people) in his quest to take back his realm from two ancient Gods. This time it wasn’t betrayal or death that separated him. Morpheus’ love for Alianora simply faded with time. But he hadn’t bid her farewell from his lands, no, he had created an island from which she could rule herself as long as she lived. From this memory, you learned how Morpheus’ creepy helm had been made, from the bones of the Gods Morpheus had defeated. A tad bit creepy but it certainly made a point when one saw it.

When you were torn from this world and found yourself standing in the familiar hall of the Dreaming’s palace, you knew that this was the last lover Morpheus would take. Thessaly, a witch who had lived for thousands of years. She could utilize any form of magic, including spells and charms, and even use powers from any belief system she chose to tap into. As the last of her people, she was a powerhouse. It was no wonder that Morpheus had been drawn to her. But the love was not entirely requited and upon parting ways, Morpheus had been crushed by the break up. You felt that pain, that hurt, and that sent you to your knees. But your knees didn’t hit the soft Dreaming grass, but hard rock of the realm of the Kindly Ones.

Gasping out from the physical pain in both your knees and heart, you caught yourself with your palms as the three woman looked down at you. Tears leaked from your red and watery eyes, falling to the cold stone below while your lips trembled. You felt everything, all of that emotional pain that Morpheus had gone through in his past relationships. The instability he felt within his relationships. The oppression of a love that was never bound to last. He had hurt so much and chose to remain emotionally closed off and stagnant. Afraid to love again because he would only lose it in the end. An agonizing cycle that always repeated and always gorged fresh wounds in his heart.

“Do you now understand, Y/N Burgess?” The Crone questioned. “Are you ready to seal your future, your fate, with the one you are bound to?”

Your eyes gradually lifted from the hard ground, fresh tears intermittently running off your chin. Looking into the Crone’s eyes, you faltered for words. You understood why Morpheus was the way he was, you understood that he felt so deeply, so passionately, that when his relationships ended he felt into a pit of despair. But to spend an eternity with an overly protective Morpheus who would rather have you locked up in the palace where you were guaranteed to be safe and always within reach should he need you? You couldn’t live like that, you refused to.

“No,” You told them, your eyes sparking silver. “You can show me all you want, Kindly Ones, I will not let anyone chose my future save for me.”

“You’ve got the spark of fire and life,” The Maiden said, appearing before you. “Perhaps you will be what he needs, or what will be his undoing.”

Your face started to harden, not likening the way the Maiden had worded her sentence, but you didn’t get the chance to respond before you were yanked away. Lurching upright with a gasp, you came face to face with the Corinthian who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Good ol’ Morpheus try to have a little chat?” He mused in question before offering his hand. You stared at the offered hand before grudgingly taking it with a snort.

“The Kindly Ones, actually,” You snipped back, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You reached up and felt your cheeks. They were dry, but that pulsating ache of heartbreak still lingered within your chest. “Now, don’t you have a speech to give?”

Date Published: 12/12/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

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[ilovewhiteroses]

Teasing You (part of "Workplace Affair")

Pairing: The Corinthian x Librarian of The Dreaming Reader Genre: Smut (although there’s no explicit sex), humour Warnings: references to sex, some curse words Rating: +18 Notes: - In the original ’Workplace Affair’ series, Reader was written as Female, but I wanted to write this story as Gender Neutral, so everyone could enjoy it 💕 - This one is shorter than my usual fanfics, but I hope you will like it

You and The Corinthian spice up your already exciting love life...

You and Corinthian have been together for a while. You often slept at his place and at work, when he dropped in sometimes, you tried to make time for each other. Lucienne and Merv soon accepted you together and after some time, Morpheus also managed to accept the fact that you are a couple. In your relationship, Corinthian was the dominant one, which you didn't mind at all, but sometimes you also liked to take control, especially in the bedroom. One night you decided that the next day, when he visits you in the library, you are going to tease him. Considering that Corinthian is very sex positive and often thinks with his dick, you wondered how long he would be able to hold back…

In the morning you got up a little earlier than usual so you could leave before Corinthian gets up. An hour later he also woke up and was a little scared when he found your place empty, but when he saw a note with the inscription "I left earlier", he calmed down. He went down to the living room and noticed a paper folded in half on the coffee table. He picked it up and read it.

"Have a nice day honey! I can't wait to feel you inside me again..."

"Baby, my dick is already hard, what will happen to me later?" he said to himself, reading your sexy message. He sighed contentedly, then went to get ready for work.

 It was finally time for the coffee break you've been waiting for since morning. You walked into the cafeteria and saw the nightmare having a conversation with Merv. You went to the coffee machine to make yourself a drink while waiting for the janitor to leave. When Merv left, you and Corinthian were finally alone. He walked over to you and pulled you close with a firm movement.

"Come here, you naughty librarian!"

He wanted to kiss you, but you didn't let him and escaped from the grip of his arms. You took a few steps back and started to move your body in front of him, then you went back to him, but this time you turned away and started rubbing your bottom against his crotch. You heard Corinthian purring in satisfaction like a big cat while placing his hands on your hips.

"Uh, Y/N, if you knew what you're doing to me. I wish I could fuck you right here right now on the table, I've had an erection since your message this morning." he said with a sexy smile. You turned to face him and reached down to grab his "package".

"I know and I really enjoy it." you said and caressed his cock through his pants, giving him a suggestive look. He tilted his head back slightly and sighed softly, causing you to bite your lip. You loved the way he gave himself in to you. You caressed him like that a little more, then before his thoughts could wander too much, you stopped and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Oh, why did you stop?" Corinthian asked like a disappointed child. You deliberately didn't answer the question, you just said:

"See you later baby!" You winked at him then went back to the library.

 You collected the books on your table and walked to the shelves with them in a good mood. After you finished putting them up, you went back to your desk. You saw Corinthian again and this time he was talking with Lucienne. When you got a little closer to them, you heard your boyfriend ask the chief librarian about the rumours he heard from the other dreams. You waved to them and had a thought. Since Lucienne was standing with her back to you, you decided you would take advantage of the situation and provoke the hot nightmare a little...

You sat up on your desk so that Corinthian could see you clearly. You usually wore a skirt to work, but this time you wore pants so you could spread your legs more easily. You slowly started caressing your thigh, then reached between your legs and in the process, you gave your boyfriend a seductive look. He glanced over every now and then, but he tried to keep Lucienne from noticing, because even though you were teasing him, he was still enjoying the show you were putting on for him. You continued to ”touch” yourself and bite your lip, then threw your head back for a moment. Corinthian, even though he can't sweat, felt like he was flooded with heat and loosened his shirt a bit at the neck. He felt that he was starting to lose control over his thoughts and he heard Lucienne's words more and more quietly, he could only hear the beating of his heart in his ears. As you imitated masturbating, deep inside you prayed that Lucienne wouldn't look back or you'd end up in an extremely awkward situation, and Corinthian hoped she wouldn't notice his erection. He was trying his best to pay attention to the conversation, and in his head he was thinking that when he gets home, he is going to fuck you hard for being naughty all day.

 When you finished work, you went to his apartment and waited for him to come home. The nightmare hurried home as fast as he could. When he finally arrived and saw you, he walked towards you with the intention of ripping your clothes off.

"Hey big boy! What are you doing?” you asked him pretending to be surprised by what he was up to, laughing to yourself.

"Listen, I've been so horny all day because of your little games that I can’t take it anymore! I’m losing my mind, I want you so bad!" he said and pulled you close, but you got yourself out of his arms again.

"I know, I have been very, very bad! But, it's still not over." you told him mischievously, then picked up a strawberry from the plate on the coffee table. Corinthian frowned, but he was curious as to what you were up to.

First, you slowly ran the strawberry over your lips, then you started to lick it with the tip of your tongue, imagining that you were licking the head of his cock like that. Corinthian no longer frowned, but instead smiled and grunted in satisfaction. He loved it when you sucked his cock, because you were always enthusiastic and creative and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

You then put the strawberry in your mouth and began to carefully suck it. While doing that, you moaned because you enjoyed the delicious taste of the fruit. You did all of this with your eyes closed, but at one point you opened them and saw Corinthian sitting on the couch, leaning back and looking at you. You were surprised that he didn't touch himself, although he usually never masturbated in front of others, he preferred his partner to do it in front of him, thus showing his dominant self. The way he was sitting there was so sexy to you that you felt yourself getting turned on. When you were sufficiently aroused, you bit into the strawberry and let the juice run down your chin as if it was the result of Corinthian's orgasm. The nightmare couldn't take it anymore, he went to you and kissed you passionately, then he took you in his arms and went up to the bedroom with you...😈

  Tags: @thecorilove86, @e-dubbc11, @harlekin6 @jessamydreams, 

@destiny-rahl, @merryandrewsworld @i-like-the-eyes, @drowningnikki, 

@mirandkimy,  @translat0r  

@delicateteenagerunaway, @imjustmessy, @zealoussaladsublime, 

@lilithsdreams, @cloudsofcondensation, @blondehotbrook, 

@enkelimoonstone, @bakerstreethound, @amidalasruby, @kittycat-kai, 

@hopeless-07,  @miss-wednesday98, @littlewierdalien, @littlefoxgirl-13, 

@dahlinq @dayleis, @idealai

@icytrickster17, @belladiaz, @smileymissbee

@foodlover123456789, @lazy-queen26, @yellowwithalisp, 

@onehundredyearsofyearning, @constantron, @violentviolet88, 

@strudelbug07​,  @underwater-garden

[bakerstreethound]

A Walk in the Park

Relationship: Single Father!Corinthian x reader

Warnings: brief mention of losing a child, absent parents, flirty Corinthian, pining, and sensual undertones towards the end if you squint. 

Summary: It all starts when you see a single father in the park playing with his kid. Alas, there’s more than meets the eye, for you find yourself drawn to the blonde stranger in dark shades and the child he has. What happens when his child just so happens to be the cause of a meet cute? Will something blossom? Or will you refuse the offer of his charming, albeit, handsome father? 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: When @novaracer and I get together, we tend to have crazy ideas this was one of the ones that came out of a brainstorm session. I have never created an OC child before, but I can’t wait for you all to meet Levi! Needless to say I dedicate this fic to them because hehe I definitely made them a sucker for some single father Corinthian. I hope you all enjoy. Graphic by @firefly-graphics. As always, comments and reblogs are most appreciated! 

You watch them from your bench in the park where you have a baguette next to you, your warm drink cold when you bring it to your lips, infatuated by the sight before you. 

The blonde stranger’s lips form into a subtle smirk while he watched the child before him tumbling through the grass, his blond curls wild are carefree, eyes a brilliant shade of blue. 

You smiled to yourself infatuated by the sight; you never were one to pay attention to children but the intelligence, the life, the joy pouring from the tiny human was enough to make you feel warm inside, a joy you thought had been long extinguished with the passing of your beloved Sam. 

You sigh, finishing off your sandwich before walking over to the trash to deposit the leftovers of your lunch, inhaling the fresh air, that is until you feel small arms wrap around your lower legs and you see him, the cute kid from before peering up at you with his beautiful baby blue eyes, blinking hopefully. 

“Hey there little fella, where’d you go?” A smooth southern accent breaks you from your thoughts and you see the tall blonde fellow in front of you, a smile forming on your face as you meet his gaze from beneath his dark sunglasses. 

“Are you looking for someone?” You ask, your heart racing and you wink down at the kid conspiratorially. He blinks up at you, giggling quietly. 

The stranger shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Nah, just my son. He likes to get up and play hide and seek when I turn my back you see. You haven’t happened to come across him, now?” 

The grip around your leg tightens and you fight off a smile. “Nope, don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the little fellow.” 

“You sure now? I did promise him ice cream if he didn’t get himself into trouble and all…” 

You can only imagine how wide the boy’s eyes grow at the mention of a treat and he squeals from behind you as he wiggles between the space between you and his father. 

"We can get ice cream?"

“Ahhh there you are!” 

You can’t help but smile at the exchange, the soft smile along the strangers lips widening a fraction. You can't help the warmth that spreads through you at the affection. “That did the trick, now didn’t it?” 

The man chuckles, pulling up the child in his arms, setting him promptly on his shoulders, the child squeeling happily.

“The pretty person knew where I was the whole time!” 

“Well good thing she did, cause now I’ve got you back where you belong, son,” the southern accent drawls, his sunglasses meeting your gaze once again. You wonder briefly if you overstayed your welcome. You surely don't want to intrude but something about this man and his kid well you want to know more. 

“Why don't you join us?” He inquires, inclining his head toward you. From this angle you can see his jaw catch in the light, its sharp edges cutting through the sunlight like glass. Something about this man felt otherworldly, but you can’t pinpoint why, or this draw you feel to him. 

You blink and shake your head, trying to pull yourself from your stupor.. "No please I couldn't possibly interrupt the rest of your day. I've already caused far too much trouble." 

"Nonsense, I insist."

"But-" your mind blanks. Why shouldn't you go with him? You'd only met minutes before after observing his son but for some reason you find yourself saying 'yes' and the man smiles at you. 

"Well alright then, let's go!"

You find yourself giggling, chasing around the little boy, his father smiling proudly at the two of you. Cori doesn’t want to admit it to himself either, but he’s enjoyed your company immensely and the way you took to his son was uncanny. 

“Haha! I got ya, little tyke,” you grin, the boy clinging to you profusely laughing as you tickle his sides, before he takes off running behind a tree while you follow swiftly behind. 

“Sir? I believe you forgot these?” The man at the icecream trolley rolls his eyes, huffing as he hands off the cones to Cori and he makes a mental note for his next target. What a shame to let him go to waste, he thinks. Truly a shame. “Ice cream is going to melt if you don’t get here faster!” His voice grabs his son’s attention and he smiles, making a beeline away from you over to him. 

You’re gasping for breath by the time you make it to the picnic table, and you hate to think of the state you’re in now while the man flashes a smile before his tongue swirls out to lick a stray drip of ice cream on his cone before handing one to you. “Hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of getting us all vanilla.” 

“That works fine for me,” you grin, and take a lick, the perfect balance of cold and sweetness hitting your tongue. You groan softly. This was much needed. 

“Good, right?” 

“Oh my gosh, yes.” 

“Yummy!” The kid pipes up, a messy smear of vanilla along his chin, makes you laugh as the man wipes it up. 

“Gotta be careful there, son.” 

“You and your boy are really close.” 

“Little Levi and I have had lots of adventures together in recent years. His parents aren’t quite in the picture anymore so I stand in for them now.” He shrugs and takes a bite of the ice cream and your gaze falls on Levi. Little Levi, his father’s voce was full of affection, some deeper meaning than he was letting on beyond the surface. You don’t have any right to prod further and the stranger seemed content enough to share what little he did with you. 

“He’s lucky to have you, not many children get a chance for so attentive of a guardian.” your finger brushes along the top of his hand before you can stop yourself, his gaze locking on to it, burning and searing through your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat. What are you thinking? you barely know this man, hell, he could be trying to garner your sympathy for money for all you know. 

He huffs a laugh as if he doesn’t believe the sincerity of your words. Why should you feel so empathetic towards him? You know what loss is, though you dare not think about it, the familiar pain deepening inside you, a past you thought was long forgotten. 

“Well, it looks like it’s time for us to go, Levi,” the man’s accent lays on thick this time, you swear it’s to startle you from your darkening thoughts, but your heart twinges at Levi’s boyish grin the last of his ice cream gone, dripping from his little hands as he pouts. His father smiles gently, wiping off the sticky mess with a napkin. 

“No! Wanna stay with pretty person!” Levi retorts, crossing his arms, the pout deepening. 

“We can come back tomorrow, perhaps, but you can play a little longer. We’ll be right at that bench, alright Levi?” the man smiles, pushing up the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose as he offers you his hand which you find yourself taking and sit next to him on the bench a few paces away under the welcoming shade of an old oak tree. 

The silence passes comfortably between you both while watching Levi chase around butterflies and picking up wildflowers, giggling happily, carefree joy radiating through his very being. You find yourself wishing to return to a day where you could find joy in the simplest of things, but you supposed today provided more than you found in the previous months you’ve been alone. 

He finally ends the silence. “You’ll come back tomorrow, won’t you?” He sounds so hopeful, gosh and you still can’t deny the inexplicable draw you feel to him. You want to say yes, but you knew how the ritual goes, how it only ends in pain. One question to make it or break it. You didn’t want to break again. It’s why you kept yourself alone, locked away but for a few friends and acquaintances in the world. 

“I’m not sure,” you find yourself responding. You’re surprised how sincere you sound. “Perhaps if there’s good reason to. I might have made plans.”

“Darlin’ if you had plans your phone wouldn’t be so void of calls and text messages.” 

“Well if I did, then would you still be so presumptuous?” You snip back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Perhaps I wouldn’t but it was unfair of me to make such an assumption. Would you perhaps think about it?” His demeanor is quiet, the confidence protruding from him undeniable, but under all that, the softening of his face you can tell he means well, is sincere. You reach out between the space between you where his hand is resting on his leg and you trace the top of his hand with your index finger gently. 

“I’ll think about it, then.” You find a smile tugging on the corner of your lips. 

Without another word he brings your hand to his lips, kissing the top of it, lips soft and warm along your skin before he pulls back, smiling as he slides a card into your palm. “Well, we try to drop by once a week, Same time, day and place. You’re always welcome to join us.” He scoots closer on the bench the heat between you thickening his, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “and if you ever get bored, I’m only a call away, sweetheart.” 

“But I-” You sigh, there’s no sign of them you would’ve believed you dreamt the whole thing. You didn’t even know his name, the card in your hand was real, though, your fingers brushed along the typography, the numbers spelling out your future or perhaps your eternal doom.

******

@bakerstreethound @lilythemadqueen @frostandflamesfanfic @novaracer @starks-hero @azu21 @strangelockd @roguelov @dearly-dreaming @starstruck-loner​

[lovelycreativecrafts]

Hidden Injury | Bakugo x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,218

Synopsis: Reader gets gets hurt and ignores her injury.

Inspiration:

Bible Verse: “We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us. As a fair exchange—I speak as to my children—open wide your hearts also.” - 2 Corinthians 6: 12-13

Author’s Notes: If you liked the short fanfic please like and reblog the post. If not, feel free to leave a comment on how the story could have been made better. I hope you all have a blessed day!!!

Warnings: None

Challenge: Febuwhump Challenge Hosted by @fanfictionlibrary01 and their discord server

I stared at the sun as I walked down the sidewalk. The sky was painted a mixture of an orange and pink color as the sun was beginning to set.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” Bakugo yelled back at me.

I glanced at Bakugo and held back a chuckle. Usually, I would be intimidated by him but it was hard to take him seriously when his hair was laid down.

Bakugo suddenly stopped and I stopped beside him. We were supposed to be patrolling the streets. To make sure that no villains hurt any of the civilians but we weren’t supposed to engage the enemy.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Bakugo ignored me and I crossed my arms. Bakugo never really thought much of me, he believed I was weak and I couldn’t exactly disagree with him. Despite my quirk being powerful, I didn’t know exactly how to use it in combat. It was like, I didn’t have a mind-to-muscle connection. Which only resulted in Bakugo calling me out of my name like how he does Midoriya. But I was determined to get better and I have gotten better.

Suddenly, an explosion erupted and I looked toward the sound to find a building on fire. Bakugo ran toward the building and I quickly followed.

We both soon made it in front of the building. A few people at the top of the building screamed for help and Bakugo activated his quirk and blasted himself toward the top of the building. I ran through the front door and was quickly met with heat. Fire grabbed at the walls as it began to reach toward the ceiling.

I yelled out to anyone that could have still been in the building and I heard a low response. I tried following the sound and traced it toward a door upstairs. I ran up the stairs as I activated my quirk and heated my hand before grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door open. A herd of people began to run through the door, almost crushing me in the process.

Once no more people came out the door, I stepped into the doorway and examined the room.

“Hello?” I yelled.

“Help.” A little girl’s voice pleaded.

I looked around the room but the only thing that was in it was fire surrounding the room.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the corner behind the fire,” The girl coughed.

I carefully examined the room further and there was one spot that the fire didn’t seem to completely engulf. I closed my eyes and tried focusing on heating my whole body. Once my body was hot, I quickly walked through the fire and I immediately saw a little girl scrunched up on the floor. I focused on cooling down the parts of my body that the child will soon touch and I lifted the child and brought her toward my chest.

“T-Thank you, Lady,” The little girl said.

I quickly made my way out of the room and began going down the stairs. A large bang erupted and I looked up toward the ceiling and it began to crack. The ceiling began to fall apart and I ran down the stairs. Just when I made it to the end of the stairs, something hit my lower spine and I heard a crack. I fell towards the floor as pain traveled up my spine and down my legs.

“Ah-,” I cut myself off and bit the inside of my cheek not wanting to worry the child.

“Lady, are you okay?”

“Yeah . . . I just wasn’t . . . expecting that to happen.” I forced myself to say.

I slowly lifted myself off the ground and a sharp pain erupted from my lower spine but I ignored it. I steadied myself onto my feet and took a step toward the exit. Pain shot through my legs with every step I took but I pushed past the pain and slowly made my way out of the building.

“Maria?!” A woman called out.

I fell to one of my knees and put the little girl down.

“Mama!” The little girl ran toward her mother and they both embraced each other.

“Thank you, Hero, for saving my child.” The woman thanked me.

I gave a weak smile and lifted my hand toward my back.

“Hey.”

I looked up toward the rough voice and Bakugo stood in front of me with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You better not have gotten yourself hurt in there.”

Bakugo’s red eyes stared into my own, “I’m fine, it was just really hot in the building.” I lied.

Bakugo frowned at me and he opened his mouth but something caught his eye. “Hey, get back here villain!” Bakugo yelled before taking off.

“Wait, Baku-,” Pain shot down my legs and I held my lower back again.

What am I supposed to do?

“DIEEE!!!” Bakugo’s explosions echoed from the alleyway.

I have to get up. I began to stand up and I ignored the pain that throbbed in my lower back. I walked toward the alleyway and my eyes widened. I ran toward them as I figured out the villain’s quirk.

The villain’s stomach began to grow large and Bakugo stood in front of him ready to take on whatever was about to come his way.

“BRING IT ON!” Bakugo yelled.

Fire came out of the villain’s mouth and I jumped in front of Bakugo. I activated my quirk and heat enveloped my back. My back stung and I fell to the ground as the villain stopped his quirk. Bakugo sucked his teeth and was about to take off again.

I whispered, “Bakugo.”

Bakugo stopped and glared down at me, “What are you doing? Get up, we need to go after him.”

“I-I can’t,” I took in a breath.

“I can’t . . . F-Feel my legs.” I stuttered.

Bakugo’s eyes widened, “What are you talking about? You said that you were fine. What happened?” Bakugo quickly said.

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes not wanting to hear the nicknames he would soon call me.

“Shoot,” Bakugo said.

I felt large hands touch my shoulders and pain shot up my spine as I was slowly flipped onto my back. “S-Sorry,” Bakugo whispered, noticing the painful expression I made.

I glanced at Bakugo and watched as he examined me. For once his expression wasn’t filled with anger or annoyance but with worry.

Bakugo looked into my eyes, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I . . . I just didn’t want you to think I was weak.” I explained.

Bakugo’s eyes knitted together and he looked down at my legs. He whispered something under his breath and looked back at me. He bent down lower toward me as he grabbed my hand and slowly brought them around his neck. Heat crawled up my cheeks as Bakugo slid his hand under my knees and back and lifted me off the ground.

“B-Baku-,”

“For the record, I don’t think you're weak. I think you just need more training.” Bakugo interrupted me.

Bakugo added, “So, when you get fixed up, don't be reckless again,” Bakugo looked at me.

My eyes widened and I stared at him.

“DID YOU HEAR ME?” Bakugo frowned.

“Y-Yes, I promise to be more careful.” I quickly said.

Bakugo then took off trying to find the nearest hospital.

[arcanechariot]

wanna get tagged when i post fanfic updates?

below the cut is a list of characters i write for/lust after (sorted alphabetically by actor) as well as request info for my inbox. the list will be updated over time 💛💛

boyd holbrook

billy (the skeleton twins)

cal (bikeriders)

cap hatfield (hatfields and mccoys)

cary james (behind the candelabra)

danny maguire (run all night)

donald pierce (logan)

eli klaber (indiana jones 5)

ethan miller (higher ground)

john mcbride (the cursed)

johnny cash (a complete unknown)

kaden (two / one)

kyle o'shea (the host)

mike ferro (the fugitive)

miracle guy ryan reiner (we can be heroes)

mo lundy (the free world)

peter kristo (a walk among the tombstones)

pinky (cardboard boxer)

quinn mckenna (the predator)

skip vronsky (morgan)

stephen tynan (beckett)

steve murphy (narcos)

tattooed guy mickey walker (out of the furnace)

the corinthian (the sandman)

thomas 'locke' lockhart (in the shadow of the moon)

ty shaw (vengeance)

vic owen (jane got a gun)

[boyd fic collection]

oscar isaac

abel morales (a most violent year)

anselm vogelweide (big gold brick)

basil stitt (lightningface)

blue jones (sucker punch)

bud cooper (suburbicon)

cecil dennis (revenge for jolly)

detective fartman marco cruz (lenny the wonder dog)

duke leto atreides (dune 2021)

evgeni kolpakov (w.e.)

jonathan levy (scenes from a marriage)

kane (annihilation)

king john (robin hood)

laurent leclaire (in secret)

moon knight system - steven grant, marc spector & jake lockley

nathan bateman (ex machina)

orestes (agora)

peter malkin (operation finale)

poe dameron (star wars)

robbie paulson (law & order: criminal intent)

santiago garcia (triple frontier)

victor frankenstein (??)

william tell (the card counter)

[oscar fic collection]

peter davison

albert campion (campion)

david braithwaite (at home with the braithwaites)

dc davies (the last detective)

elmer (the tomorrow people)

fifth doctor (doctor who)

gavin purcell (p.r.o.b.e.)

henry christmas (mrs. bradley mysteries)

herbie (gypsy)

ian mackerras (magnum pi)

jeremy tyler (tales of the unexpected)

lance fortescue (miss marple)

nicky frazer (midsomer murders)

professor callahan (legally blonde)

stephen claithorne (jonathan creek)

stephen daker (a very peculiar practice)

tristan farnon (all creatures great and small)

[peter fic collection]

tom hardy

bill sykes (oliver)

eames (inception)

eddie brock (venom)

johnny (bikeriders)

ronnie kray (legend)

walton goggins

cooper howard (fallout)

boyd crowder (justified)

lee russell (vice principals)

chris mannix (hateful eight)

venus van dam (sons of anarchy)

lemuel childs (them that follow)

[walton fic collection]

misc.

agent tequila (kingsman: the golden circle) ➤ channing tatum

agent whiskey (kingsman: the golden circle) ➤ pedro pascal

logan howlett (x-men movies) ➤ hugh jackman

remy lebeau / gambit (deadpool and wolverine) ➤ channing tatum

request info

drop me a line if you wanna request something. i might be a little slow (because i'm currently in the final year of my degree) but i'll get on it asap

i will write:

headcanons

sfw and nsfw stuff

stuff including mental/physical health issues or disabilities

x reader stuff (mainly afab! or ftm!)

lmk if things aren't clear

i won't write:

real people (rpf)

certain kinks: emeto, feet, scat

illegal stuff: noncon, necro, underage

i feel like this goes without saying but if a request makes me uncomfy then i won't be writing it but i trust you guys and i trust your judgement 💛💛

[breedaboyd]

26 with the Corinthian

Please 🙏 I'm obsessed with his voice

Prompt: "If you called me just to get off to my voice, I’m hanging up."

Pairing: Corinthian x GN!Reader.

If you called me just to get off to my voice, I’m hanging up. His tone is teasing but it still manages to make a shiver race up your spine.

You hum, trailing fingers across your collarbone to the slight hook of flesh just beneath. God, why didn't you call him weeks ago?

"But your voice is just so soothing…" You sigh, a slight whine in your voice. Feigning innocence is child's play, to you. "You sing me such lovely lullabies when I call you."

Then maybe I should come over there and put you to sleep? The husky tone is deep and rich like satin. He really has the voice of a debaucher, a dark and pretty siren.

"I won't lie, sleep is the furthest thing from my mind right now." You gasp slightly as your fingers find a nipple, circling it with a fingertip over your clothes. Your eyelids flutter slightly.

*So you *did* just wanna get off to my voice then?* Again, he sounds amused but there's no mistaking the raw arousal coiling in his tone, hidden under false indifference. A sound between a giggle and a moan works past your lips as you push yourself back against the headboard, legs parting just slightly.

You imagine him beside you, all flushed skin and soft curves. His head would be resting in the crux of your shoulder. And he would probably bite you there.

"Could you tell me…what to do? Where to put my hand?" You manage, voice breathless and hitching on certain syllables. It takes a lot for you not to cuss, stave the arousal you feel building like electricity by drumming your fingers along your hipbones, peaking up over the hem of the duvet.

Sure. I've got a few minutes. You can hear him move, just slightly, the clink of his belt.

"Yeah… Tell me where to put them."

Where are they now, hm? He asks and you sigh, pushing the covers back a little.

"Well, one's holding my phone and I've got the other one just on the sheets for now." You explain and he hums in response.

Move it under the covers, along your thighs… His voice is soft but commanding and it sends little rivers of anticipation down your inseam. You toss away the blanket completely now, following his instruction and running your fingers up along your legs. Tell me what you're wearing.

"Just a shirt, nothing underneath." You admit, curling your legs in a little. Another gentle rumble of pleasure comes through the speaker.

Good. You don't mind if I get off, do you? Been a long trip. A long while since I've seen you. He purrs and you gasp a bit when a clever touch circles the joint where thigh meets body, shaking your head slightly though he can't see.

"N-Not at all." You manage, rubbing closer and closer still. You ache so much. You kind of love the teasing edge he's pulling.

Perfect. Let's have some fun.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 21

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

Experiencing the Dreaming in your true, awakened state was the most incredible vacation of your life—one filled with magic, wonders, and an overwhelming amount of love from the King of Dreams.

Author's note: This chapter is most likely the LONGEST yet, and while quite chill and romantic, it is extremely important for something that will come soon enough. Warning: highly descriptive NSFW content included!

Upon your return to the castle, Morpheus granted you permission to explore his home further during his absence. Though he promised you an exceptional experience in his realm, an urgent matter required his immediate attention. You abstained from inquiring, recognizing that the situation, whatever its nature, necessitated his direct involvement.

At the end of the day, the sky had transformed into a magnificent starry expanse, simulating a perfect night. Morpheus had ensured everything was set and well-organized for your stay, unwilling to leave you without guidance.

Unity Kinkaid shared her great-granddaughter's compassion and wisdom, making your time together in the library rich with meaningful conversations. She regaled you with fascinating tales from her youth and the life she lived in her dreams during her long sleep, an experience that, though imaginary, led to the very real creation of a Vortex child.

Unity's charm and warmth made the prospect of her inevitable journey to the afterlife profoundly saddening. Though the compromise spared a young life with many years ahead, it left you feeling unsettled, wishing for a betterI solution.

Even in that moment of great reflection, you found solace in the warmth of Lucienne's tea, the comforting aroma of books filling the air, and the welcoming presence of your companions. These simple pleasures heightened your appreciation for being awake in such an extraordinary world, experiencing the Dreaming in a uniquely immersive way.

Meanwhile, Morpheus braced himself for an impending confrontation, one that would stir up bitterness, anger, and disappointment. The clash was unavoidable, given the recent Vortex incident and your role in it. He strode through the dark corridors of his palace, his coat billowing behind him, until he reached the area housing his siblings' sigils. He made a beeline for the one he sought, his pace slowing as he approached the object. Disgust contorted his features as he gazed at the black heart—a symbol bereft of warmth or affection, its shape a cruel irony.

He then grasped it, holding it in his hands before speaking in his characteristic low, deep tone. It was a formality, a customary phrase spoken to seek approval, albeit unnecessary. Any semblance of respect or cordiality toward his sibling had long since vanished.

“Desire. I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Talk to me.”

In that instant, red fog materialized within the heart, and Desire's face appeared on its surface, smiling in that languid way Morpheus could barely tolerate. “Why, sweet Dream, this is a surprise. Almost an event, I might say—”

Impatient with their response, he cut them off abruptly. “Good. I’m coming through.”

Desire's expression flickered momentarily, a brief flash of unease quickly masked by their typical nonchalance. “You are. But of course.” They lounged in their gleaming red chair, clad in a provocative black catsuit, legs elegantly raised. “You know you’re always welcome in my chambers.”

Morpheus stepped forward, his surroundings shifting from the opulent darkness of his castle to the bright, blood-red walls that enveloped the entire space, reminiscent of a human heart. He strode forward with measured steps, barely containing his seething rage. His clenched jaw and furrowed brow betrayed the intensity of his emotions.

“Lovely to see you,” they purred with a husky voice. “Can I get you anything you desire?”

They now lay on their front, facing the King of Dreams with a wide grin, their cat-like tail swaying sinuously of its own accord.

“I desire nothing from you, save some answers.”

“Ooh. Is this a test?”

“Unity Kinkaid should’ve been the Vortex of this era,” he began without preamble. “But someone took advantage of my imprisonment and fathered a child with her, knowing full well that it would become the Vortex, and I would be forced to kill it.”

Desire's unrepentant smirk and relaxed posture spoke volumes to Morpheus. Their bearing betrayed not even a shred of regret.

Not that he'd expect anything less from the one who consistently went to extreme lengths solely to wreak havoc on his existence.

“Was I really that obvious?”

Morpheus's face contorted in exasperation, a sardonic smile playing across his lips. “No. You covered your tracks remarkably well.”

“That’s high praise coming from you,” Desire replied, straightening up with effortless grace.

“What did you truly intend? That I should spill family blood? With all that would entail?”

Desire made no attempt to justify their actions. Instead, they snickered, a broad and proud smile forming as they reveled in the intricacies of their scheme. “This time it almost worked.”

Morpheus recoiled at such a brazen admission, despite having anticipated it. A faint glimmer of hope had persisted that his suspicions might prove unfounded. Now, it seemed, the die was cast.

“My sibling. We of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. We do not manipulate them.”

He advanced, circling Desire slowly, a movement laden with multiple implications.

“If anything, they manipulate us,” he continued. “And you and Despair, and even poor Delirium would do well to remember that.”

He halted behind Desire, who tensed visibly in their seat.

“Your meddling with the Vortex, attempting to bring about my destruction through Rose Walker… that, I expected from you. But to involve her...” His eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind his gaze.

Desire chuckled nervously, feigning innocence. "Ah, you mean your little mortal lover? I must say, I was quite intrigued by her charm. I merely wondered what captivates you about her, and if she might be easily swayed."

Morpheus' presence loomed behind them, an ominous shadow. “You attempted to use her against me, but she did not fall for your games.”

Desire’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “She was more resilient than most. But come now, dear brother, surely you can’t blame me for testing the waters. After all, love and desire are not so different, are they?”

Morpheus’s voice dropped, a chill entering his tone. “Do not mistake your nature for mine. Love is not a weapon to be wielded.”

“But isn’t that exactly what you fear, my sweet Dream? That your precious love could be your undoing?”

"Your aim was to ensnare her in your schemes, to draw her into your web of deceit. You have underestimated her. She is far beyond your reckoning—as am I. I shall not permit you to transmute her feelings into something malicious."

Desire's grin widened. "What can I say? She's a tantalizing blend of vitality and promise, an irresistible temptation to one such as myself."

In a swift motion, Morpheus seized Desire's hair, yanking their head back as he finally snapped. He leaned in close, his face mere inches from their nose, eyes blazing with barely contained fury. “Mess with me or mine again and I shall forget you are family.”

A foreboding silence ensued.

“Do you believe yourself strong enough to stand against me? Against Death? Against Destiny?”

Desire's crimson lips pressed into a firm line, their shoulders quivering from the strained position, and from something else entirely.

After a tense pause, they choked out a reluctant reply. “No.”

Morpheus released his grip, roughly shoving Desire's head forward, then strode away. “Remember that next time you’re inspired to interfere in my affairs.”

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn’t I?" Desire mused, though their brother had already returned to his own realm, beyond the reach of their taunting words.

Their toothy grin then faded, replaced by a more serious, menacing stance. “Next time, I’ll draw blood.”

The ominous declaration hung in the air, audible only to Desire in the unsettling silence of their domain.

You were utterly astonished, your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened in disbelief. Morpheus had invited you to stay in his realm for what would feel like several days to you, though it would translate to mere hours in the Waking World. His intention was to provide you with a peaceful interlude, free from any tumultuous events and offering you an extended respite from your professional responsibilities.

To accommodate your stay, a private room had been meticulously arranged for you atop one of the castle's loftiest towers. Its walls were painted in velvety shades of blue and purple, the colors transforming subtly as if alive. They flowed into one another like liquid silk, creating a gentle, mesmerizing motion around you. In the center, against the back wall, stood a magnificent canopy bed. Its frame, carved from dark, polished wood, featured intricate designs that seemed to weave a tale of ancient dreams.

The canopy itself was draped with gauzy, shimmering fabrics that sparkled as if woven with stardust, catching the light from crystals hanging above like a chandelier. The bedspread, a rich deep blue with silvery threads running through it, created patterns of constellations mirroring the night sky outside.

Around the room, clusters of moonflowers bloomed, their petals pulsing faintly with an otherworldly luminescence. The air was infused with their delicate, sweet fragrance, which mingled with a faint, earthy scent from large amethysts strategically placed throughout the space. The crystals emitted a soft radiance, creating a soothing atmosphere that calmed the mind.

Glass doors, framed by heavy curtains that echoed the room's rich hues, opened onto a spacious balcony. As you stepped out, a breathtaking panorama unfolded before you—an endless expanse of the Dreaming. Rolling landscapes stretched from lush forests to serene lakes, all bathed in the pale glow of a gracefully arcing crescent moon. The stars seemed impossibly close, larger and brighter than you'd ever seen, as if you could simply reach out and pluck them from the sky.

On the balcony, a couple of chairs and a small table were arranged for quiet contemplation of the realm's beauty. Silver vines, sparkling like frost, entwined the railings. The flooring appeared to contain a living galaxy, trapped within its surface.

You were gazing at a true sanctuary, a place so magical and fabulous that you almost feared staining it with your shoes. Yet, no matter how many times you paced back and forth to admire it, everything remained incredibly pristine.

"Morpheus, I... this is..." you stammered, your voice quivering with emotion. "I'm completely at a loss for words," you finally managed, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

Morpheus, who had been observing you quietly from the entrance, offered a contented smile. "I gather you find it to your liking," he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Your eyes lit up with joy, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Like it? Morpheus, I absolutely adore it! It's beyond anything I could have ever imagined."

He stepped forward, gently taking your hands, a gesture you immediately reciprocated. "You deserve this and more."

"You're amazing. I've said it before, but I feel compelled to reiterate just how incredible you are."

Morpheus's deep, cerulean eyes softened, his cool touch grounding you amid the surreal wonder of your surroundings. The faint light in the room reflected off his pale features, accentuating the timeless beauty of the Dream Lord. His smile, typically reserved, broadened at your words, revealing a rare glimpse of warmth.

"You flatter me," Morpheus replied, his voice like a gentle breeze that stirred the petals of the moonflowers nearby. "But the Dreaming is as much yours as it is mine. Here, you are not bound by the limits of your world. Let your imagination run free, for it is your dreams that shape this place.”

You shook your head. "No, Morpheus. It's your essence that keeps this realm alive. I'm eternally grateful that you've allowed me to experience even the tiniest fragment of it."

"All that I am, all that the Dreaming encompasses... it would be but half as vibrant without your presence within it."

You chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and giving his hands a gentle squeeze before releasing them. "I see. We could go on praising each other endlessly if we don't stop now."

Morpheus' smile persisted, a wordless acknowledgment of your observation. Indeed, he would express his admiration and love for you in countless ways, for as long as you lived.

Upon turning, your attention was drawn to an item that had escaped your initial inspection. A dark nightgown rested elegantly across the bed, its fabric decorated with tiny, shimmering filaments that also sparkled like distant stars. Approaching it, you marveled at its elegance, your fingers gliding over the smooth, luxurious material.

"Is it possible for me to stay here?" you inquired. "Wouldn't my physical presence in the Dreaming disrupt the natural order of the universe, or something?"

"I've granted you permission to stay," Morpheus assured. "The Dreaming recognizes and respects your reverence for it."

"The Dreaming is important to me."

"You are under my protection. While the Dreaming is not a place for mortals to explore in their waking, you possess a unique understanding of it."

Lapsing into silence, you began removing your shirt, the hem gradually rising past your arms, chest, and head. Morpheus respectfully averted his gaze, staring out at the dream sky as you changed. His consideration for your privacy was incredibly sweet and tender, especially given the number of times he had seen you naked.

You offered a sheepish smile, though he couldn't see it. Carefully, you removed your shoes, stepped out of your jeans, and deftly unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. The ambient air caused your nipples to harden, prompting you to instinctively cross your arms over your chest.

For a moment, you longed for his eyes to caress your form, for him to reach you and envelop you in his embrace, to press his lips against yours, to lose yourselves in passionate intimacy. Ultimately, you realized that despite your desires, the moment wasn't opportune. You had endured a long day filled with ceaseless events, each more intense than the last. Morpheus intended for you to rest, and try as you might to deny it, you could feel fatigue creeping in.

You took the nightgown, slipping your arms through the openings, and gently pulled it on. As the fabric cascaded down your body, it felt as if a pair of soft, velvety hands were sliding over you, a sensation both comforting and ethereal. For a moment, you stood mesmerized, staring at the nightgown adorned with glittering stars. The celestial pattern flowed from the delicate straps to the black lacy hem that brushed your thighs.

Ready for bed, you moved your bare feet across the polished floor, its surface lukewarm against your soles. Morpheus turned to face you, his visage fixed upon you with a concentration that quickened your pulse. His eyes lingered, his expression a mixture of awe and adoration. For a moment, he was rendered speechless.

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “What is it? Do I look weird?”

Morpheus moved towards you, coming to a stop mere inches away. "No," he murmured, his voice as soft as a gentle breeze. "You look exquisite."

A warm blush crept across your cheeks, suffusing your face with color. “You really think so?”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his once more. "You are more beautiful than all the dreams I’ve ever crafted."

“You keep saying that.”

“It is true.”

You pressed yourself against him, nestling into the crook of his neck. "You make me feel so good about myself," you whispered. "Truly special."

"You are. Beyond words or measure."

"I wish I could stay here with you forever."

His fingers curled around the material of your nightgown, circling your waist. "You may return whenever you wish, my love. For you, the Dreaming will always be open."

Morpheus possessed a remarkable ability to ground you, instilling a sense of belonging wherever you went, provided he remained by your side.

And so, you inhaled his intoxicating scent, brushing the tip of your nose along his jaw and cheek, bringing your lips tantalizingly close to his. Your breathing quickened as your mind wandered to all the intimate possibilities awaiting you, right there in that room, on that bed, with your body adorned in that breathtaking nightgown.

You kissed him, slow and deep, your fingers weaving through his hair. It was a desperate endeavor to kindle his passion, to tempt him into abandoning his restraint. But you should have known better; his resolve was as unyielding as a mountain.

"My love," he breathed, his lips barely parted, your eyes half-lidded.

“Yes?”

"You need rest," he said, his voice a calming reminder.

"I need you, Morpheus. I want you so badly right now."

Your boldness surprised even you, but given your recent trip to Cape Kennedy and the partial destruction his realm had faced due to the Vortex, you'd hardly had time to savor his company.

Though undeniably tired, your crave for him surpassed your physical weariness.

He claimed your lips again, exhaling softly as his body tensed against yours. However, just as you thought he was about to fulfill your yearning, Morpheus pulled away.

“You don’t want to…?” you asked, your lips forming a disappointed pout.

"I do. But your well-being takes precedence. Sleep now, my love. There will be ample time for that, and anything else you may wish for."

As he spoke, his fingertips caressed your cheek with heartwarming tenderness, leaving a trail of excitement in their wake. Leaning into his touch, you tilted your head slightly and released a trembling sigh. “I’m sorry.”

"You need not apologize to me."

"I don't want to come across as pushy or make you feel uncomfortable in any way."

"Y/N, I would never dismiss your advances.”

"Even if I become overly demanding?"

"You could demand the entire universe, and I would rearrange the stars and planets to give it to you."

You laughed, enveloping his neck with your arms and planting a final, impish kiss on his lips. "I'd appreciate it, but perhaps we should leave the cosmos as it is."

Subduing your appetite for him, you disengaged from Morpheus and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. But just as you prepared to return to the bed, the Endless bent down, scooped you up by your legs, and cradled you in his arms bridal style.

It was unexpected, but so delightful that you immediately relaxed against his chest. “What are you doing?” you queried, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

A rare gleam of mischief flickered on his face. “I am ensuring that your journey into sleep is as peaceful as the dreams that await you.”

"My, my, you never cease to surprise me, Dream King."

You draped one arm around his shoulder for support while bringing your other hand to rest gently on the nape of his neck. Unable to resist his nearness, you peppered his lips, chin, and temple with delicate kisses.

At times, you worried about being too clingy or intrusive, but Morpheus had never expressed or shown any form of opposition.

The trek from the balcony window to the bed seemed all too fleeting, and as he carefully placed you on the mattress, you found yourself reluctant to let go.

The covers had been magically lowered, beckoning you to sink into the pillows and let the sheets embrace your legs. The mattress was as plush as a cloud, gently hugging your body as you sank into its softness.

"Will I still be able to dream, even though I'm already in the Dreaming?" you asked, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Yes. The Dreaming reflects your mind, desires, and fears. Here, your dreams may spring to life, more vivid and interwoven with the world around you. They might merge with reality, bearing greater significance and substance."

Your eyelids grew heavy. "My dreams are always vivid, particularly those featuring you."

He stroked your hair, pulling the covers up to your chest. You felt as though you were bathing in a sea of stars, with the lively shimmer and constellations dancing all around you. "Then, let me reveal to you even more—all the wonders my realm has to offer."

Tiredness crept through you and shrouded your thoughts. The delectable scent of moonflower soothed your senses, while Morpheus's lips on your forehead cocooned you in a tranquil haze.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sandman," you said teasingly, an utterance which made him smile anew.

Your grip on him loosened as sleep overtook you. Morpheus watched your resting form, his eyes filled with wonder, as if beholding the most magnificent celestial being in all of creation.

"Sleep well, my heart. Know that I am with you in every shadow and every star. May the Dreaming guide you to a peaceful slumber."

His words vibrated in the recesses of your consciousness.

"Until dawn summons you back to me."

Tall grass brushed against your hands with remarkable clarity, and every color and detail stood out vividly, even in the nocturnal atmosphere. Towering trees loomed above, their leaves gleaming under an unseen moon. Cool air carried the scent of earth and pine, infused with a subtle magic that made each breath invigorating.

A mystical forest materialized before you, a scene glimpsed in previous dreams, yet now strikingly different. Your heightened awareness went beyond your typical dream lucidity, resulting in something you could easily mistake for reality.

In a sense, it actually was, for the Dreaming existed as a tangible dimension.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, the path beneath your bare feet began to glow with celestial light, guiding you forward. Your nightgown complemented the luminous trail, its imbued glitters sparkling with each step.

Emerging from the woods, you discovered a lake of spectacular radiance, its surface covered by an almost blinding blue energy, as if it were a pool of liquid sapphire. It resembled tonic water under UV light.

The air was rich with earthy aromas; damp soil, wildflowers, and fresh grass, mingled with the subtle sweetness of mixed herbs and trees. Perhaps palm or willow contributed to this intoxicating blend.

However, the scene was not yours alone to witness. At the lake's edge stood a magnificent deer, its form adorned with green patterns that swirled across its body in intricate designs. The creature appeared awe-inspiring, regal and enchanting in its beauty. Its grace seemed almost sculpted from the dreams themselves.

As the splendid animal turned its neck to face you, its identity became unmistakable.

"It's you," you declared, closing the distance between you and the familiar. "I've been wondering where you went."

He inclined his head, a gentle smile in his eyes. "Y/N, it's wonderful to have you here."

"This place is fantastic," you expressed. "It's as if it's been lifted from the pages of a fantasy novel."

"Like a dream come true?" he asked, his voice gentle and melodious.

You bent forward, delicately running your hand along the deer's neck. "Exactly.”

"This forest is a manifestation born from the very essence of your dreams," he explained.

The patterns on its fur seemed to dance in harmony with the lake's melodious ripples, reflecting in your eyes. They seemed to incorporate elements from Native American folklore and Celtic traditions, subjects that had always fascinated you in books and films.

You smiled, turning your attention to the luminous surface of the water. "What kind of lake is this? I've never seen anything like it.”

"It is formed from your spirit as well. The Dreaming molds itself to your subconscious."

Surrounded by the forest's brilliance and comforted by your familiar's presence, you felt a powerful connection to both the Dreaming and Morpheus. His care to you infused every aspect of your dreams, embedded into each detail, from the gentle rustle of leaves to the faintest whisper of wind.

"If you wish, you can peer into the water and observe the thoughts lurking just beneath your conscious mind. It's a mirror of self-discovery, offering a glimpse into parts of yourself that often remain veiled from awareness."

"Will it be scary?"

"It depends on your perspective," he replied thoughtfully. "Some mortals might find this daunting or unsettling, as it could bring up fears and guilt they're not yet prepared to face."

“Sounds harsh.”

"It can be. But you, my dear, will be just fine."

With a mixture of worry and trepidation, you approached the azure expanse and knelt at its edge. As you looked into the water, your reflection stared back at you, but it wasn't just your own image you noticed there. The surface immediatly revealed scenes from your life, both waking and dreaming, flashing across it like an animated slideshow of memories. Each scene was connected by even more glowing threads that took form, extending from the deer's fur to the lake itself in a delicate web of light.

Visions of your childhood flashed across the surface, moments of joy and tranquility shared with your father or spent in peaceful solitude. Your teenage self appeared next, sketching and planning dreams that would take years to materialize. A more recent picture followed: you with tears streaming down your face as fears about your future tore at your heart. Then Hob's warm smile came into view, followed by the kindly faces of Mr. Burgess and Mr. McGuire.

But there was more. Shadows expanded like black ink, staining parts of the moving canvas and distorting the images. The sight disoriented you, but only for a moment, as you recognized it as nothing more than a recreation of your darkest feelings; loneliness, anger, and pain.

All things you believed you had moved past, but clearly hadn't fully processed yet.

Finally, you saw Morpheus, seated in the glass bowl in the basement, a poignant reminder of your first encounter. Your relationship played like a documented love story, with scenes switching from one to another in a never-ending transition of moments. As the images flowed, the lake's radiance grew more intense. The water sparkled with an increasingly vivid glow, showcasing the depth and richness of your flashbacks.

Your eyes stung, yet tears didn't fall. The rolling clips formed a mosaic of emotions, where deep sorrow merged with pure joy, creating a bittersweet movie of your life's journey.

“Are you okay?” The deer asked, nuzzling your hair.

"Yes. This is really nice, actually."

"I am here with you, and so is the Dreaming. Always, Y/N."

“I know.”

You reached out to stroke him again, your fingers tracing each contour of his green swirls. You settle more comfortably onto the grass, your nightgown spreading around you like a silken carpet, now expanding gracefully to the ground.

"Morpheus mentioned that I could give you a name. And I believe you really need one at this point."

His eyes widened with intrigue. "A name? I hadn't considered that possibility."

"Would you like me to find it for you?"

“I mean… I suppose? Surely you can conjure something imaginative for a Dream like me.”

You furrowed your brow, deep in thought. Your extensive reading had introduced you to a treasure trove of captivating names and terms. One of them would certainly be fitting for your familiar deer. You wanted something meaningful, an appellation as majestic as he appeared to be.

"Let's see. Morpheus created you as a guide, and right now, you shine like a beacon in the night."

"Ah, I like where this is going," he said, his ears perking up with interest.

"Stars have long been used for navigation too. Are you familiar with Peter Pan? There's a famous quote: 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning.'"

Indeed, celestial imagery had become a recurring motif in your experiences within the Dreaming.

“Star… ‘Sic itur ad astra’, 'thus one journeys to the stars’. That’s what Virgil wrote in the Aeneid.”

The deer nodded attentively.

“Star. Astrum in latin, and ‘astron’ from ancient Greek. Astrum’s accusative plural form is in fact, ‘Astra’.”

In that moment, inspiration struck like lightning. "Hold on—'Astra'!"

Faced with a destructive force threatening the Dreaming and mortals losing their connection to the realm, Morpheus crafted a familiar to walk beside you in his absence. Like a celestial compass, the deer navigated you through the shadows, guiding you back to the right path whenever you lost your way. Such a name could not have been more appropriate.

He pranced excitedly. "That's quite impressive! You don’t disappoint."

"So, what do you think? Does it suit you?"

"It’s great!”

His enthusiasm was touching, and you delighted in the way he expressed his happiness, frolicking and pirouetting to an invisible rhythm.

He cleared his throat, assuming a solemn stance in front of you, and performed a reverent bow. "I, Astra of the Dreaming, vow to be your guiding star, now and forevermore."

A sense of warmth and gratitude filled your heart. He drew near, allowing you to cradle his muzzle in your hands as your forehead touched his. The green patterns adorning his fur intensified their luminescence, while your Moonstone pendant responded with its characteristic blue gleam.

A new bond was forming, a promise sealed by the very fabric of the universe.

Unbeknownst to you, the Dreaming was seamlessly intertwining with your essence, just as you had become an inseparable part of its grand design.

Several hours passed before you opened your eyes to find the sky had transformed into bright daylight. Your room remained as fantastical as it had been at night, though the overall magic was more pronounced in the darkness. You stretched your arms and took a deep breath, feeling your entire body rejuvenated in a way that defied description.

Rising from bed, you stepped onto the balcony and gazed in awe at the lively spectacle of the Dreaming unfurling before you. The greenery was even more lively and dazzling, while the sky stretched out like a clear, infinite canvas.

You returned inside, a bright smile adorning your face. As your eyes swept the room, you caught sight of something voluminous hanging from the canopy on the other side of the bed. It was a dress you instantly recognized, one that had adorned you in your dreams before. Evidently, it had captivated Morpheus’ attention, standing out among the myriad outfits you'd worn during your nocturnal adventures.

You ran your fingers along the dress's lengthy gown, admiring its softness and lightness. The Endless’ devotion to every detail your conscious mind conjured was a testament to his deep affection for you; he felt compelled to not only track those elements but also manifest them in physical form within his realm. At that moment, you felt certain that there was nothing he couldn't provide for you.

As it turned out, the room held even more surprises in store.

Your exploration led you to a stunning wardrobe tucked away in a distant corner, crafted from ancient wood and embellished with intricate gold carvings. As you opened its doors, you gasped audibly at the spectacular array of dream dresses inside, each one perfectly aligned, flawless embodiments of your creations.

But there was more. Upon checking the first drawer, you couldn't suppress a giggle upon discovering an elegant lingerie collection, perfectly folded and displayed as if in a high-end boutique. Though not overtly provocative, the pieces reflected Morpheus' refined taste and his preference for you.

It was exceptional, a level of care and consideration you couldn't expect from anyone else. It all made you feel at home, as if you had just begun to truly live there.

Smiling, you chose an elegantly embroidered set of undergarments, ready to begin your first full day in the Dreaming. The best aspect of that extraordinary sojourn outside your familiar world was the genuine feeling of wonder it evoked. Every moment unveiled itself as an authentic revelation, each one a miniature miracle in its own right.

Just as you thought you had unveiled all the room's secrets, you discovered a mysterious door partially concealed within the wall—one you were certain hadn't been there the night before. Carefully, you placed your hand on the golden handle, turning it slowly, until you heard a soft click. The door swung open, inviting you to step into the unknown.

What appeared before you made your knees weak, and you had to brace yourself against the doorframe, mouth agape and a hand pressed against your chest. You blinked repeatedly, your eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the vast, fantastical spa-like bathroom before you. Polished amethyst lined the walls, casting a soothing purple luminosity that danced across the crystalline surfaces and complemented the bedroom's decor. The air was infused with the calming scent of lavender, enveloping you like a sweet embrace.

At the room's center stood the focal point: a Greek-inspired bathing pool seamlessly integrated into the floor. Smooth stone bordered it, covered in intricate engravings of old symbols and designs that seemed to undulate with the flickering light. The water, crystal-clear, fresh, and pure, was in constant motion, regenerated by a neverending current. Its surface sparkled with a faint iridescence, reminiscent of the lake in your dream, inviting and warm.

At the far end stood a fountain, similar to the famous statues you'd encountered in museums and presenting a similarity to those in Morpheus’ throne room. The soothing sound of water cascading into the pool sent pleasant shivers down your spine, creating an atmosphere of ultimate relaxation.

You twirled around, hands clasped over your mouth, laughing in amazement. More Amethyst crystals of various sizes were scattered throughout, adorning the stones, ceiling, and columns, adding to the room's ambiance.

However, what you found incredibly shocking were the basins and sanitary fixtures, their surfaces glinting with a soft luster. Morpheus had accounted for every aspect of human physiology, attending to every facet of it. While it might have been embarrassing to contemplate, you were far too stunned to feel self-conscious about it.

A plush seating area was included, with soft towels and robes made of the finest materials, ready for you to use before, or after your bath. Makeup supplies were arranged on a table, complemented by a hairbrush and what appeared to be the Dreaming's version of essential oils.

As a final touch, Morpheus had added a large mirror, also decorated with gold and a hint of something more—perhaps moonlight itself captured and forged into a frame.

Words failed to express your emotional state, for such lavish treatment seemed befitting only of a king's devotion to his queen.

Accentuated by the joyful occurrence, you wanted nothing more than to become Morpheus' true partner in his realm. Your heart fluttered with the fervent hope that one day, in the not-too-distant future, you might join in matrimony with the Lord of Dreams himself.

Somehow, someway, as improbable as it seemed. It was an idea taking shape in your mind, one you wanted to indulge in for a while.

Feeling refreshed and clad in your newly acquired attire, you settled onto the balcony, allowing the Dreaming's breeze to caress your gown and hair. You were aware that Morpheus had numerous responsibilities, including ongoing repairs in the wake of the Vortex incident. You didn't mind that he wasn't there to greet you, because you knew he would always keep a watchful eye on you.

Lost in your reverie, you were startled by a gentle knock at the door. It opened softly to reveal Lucienne, bearing a tray laden with what looked like an exquisitely prepared breakfast. Her smile radiated warmth, and her demeanor exuded respect and kindness.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you slept well?"

My lady…?

"I did, thank you, Lucienne. But please, there's no need for such formality. We're friends, after all."

"You are an honored guest at the moment," she stated. "It is of utmost importance that you are treated as Lord Morpheus desires."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you said, "Oh, come now. I'm certain Morpheus won't take issue if you treat me as you normally would. I may be a waking guest at present, but I've visited the Dreaming countless times in my dreams."

Lucienne's tension visibly eased at your words, her smile broadening with sincere friendliness. “You really don’t know how important you are, do you?”

"I'm not really that important. I'm just… me. I'm the same person you found in the throne room months ago."

She placed the tray on the table, pouring inviting tea into a cup. She artfully arranged fresh fruit in a glass bowl, and set out a small plate with a pastry that looked too delectable to eat. But what sent your mind reeling was the aroma of bacon and eggs, smoky as though they had just been prepared.

"And how many dreamers have reached Lord Morpheus' castle during the Sleepy Sickness?” She quipped. “It is not even possible without his explicit permission, unless you are a Vortex. I recognized your uniqueness even then."

"I think that was more his doing, but... fair enough."

“Lord Morpheus has ensured that your breakfast is to your liking,” she said with pride. "Take your time and enjoy. He will be with you shortly.”

The bacon was perfectly juicy, just as you preferred it. The eggs were flawlessly cooked (you wondered if they were even created manually) with pristine whites and yolks that resembled liquid gold. The fruit platter displayed a selection of the plumpest, most luscious blueberries, blackberries, and strawberries you'd ever laid eyes on. The pastry, a slice of rich, velvety cheesecake drizzled with melted caramel, looked positively divine. The tea's aroma wafted through the air, a delightful blend of sweet vanilla and zesty citrus notes.

You were certain that every bite and sip would be nothing short of heavenly.

"Thank you, Lucienne. I truly appreciate this."

Maintaining her professional composure, Lucienne departed with a reverent bow, leaving you to your peaceful corner in solitude. As you gazed at your breakfast with a growing appetite, you realized that even winning the lottery couldn't compare to the extraordinary hospitality you were receiving.

Perfectly content with a full stomach and properly brushed teeth (yes, the bathroom even had a toothbrush for you with the necessities), you tidied up the table and set the tray aside. Your original clothes were neatly placed on a small couch in front of the bed, along with your forgotten bag, which you wouldn't really need. Your phone retained its charge, but predictably, there was no signal available. You switched it off completely to avoid unnecessary battery drain.

Given the difference in time flow between realms, you knew your absence from the Waking World would likely go unnoticed—or at least be perceived as brief compared to your stay in Morpheus’ realm.

True to Lucienne's word, the Endless appeared shortly after, his arrival as silent and graceful as a cat's. He manifested silently behind you, his breath warm against your ear, his hands gently resting on your waist. The moment felt intimate and romantic, like newlyweds sharing their first day together. You caught yourself, suddenly aware that your imagination might be getting a bit carried away.

"Thank you for this," you expressed. "It's been absolutely wonderful."

"I am pleased, my love," he replied. "And you are truly a vision to behold."

"I see you've been paying close attention to my wardrobe choices."

"I attend to every detail that concerns you."

"I can see that. And honestly, I have no grounds for complaint."

Turning in his embrace, you planted a delicate kiss on his lips. "I'm curious. What else do you have in store for me?"

"There is a task that requires my attention, and I wish for you to accompany me."

“Of course! What is it about?”

His hands trailed along your arms with a slow, gentle caress. "Would you care to observe me work?" he asked.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? You mean, like watching you create things?"

“New Dreams and Nightmares.”

"Oh, I'd love to see that!"

His characteristic subtle grin betrayed how deeply your enthusiasm filled him with pride and satisfaction.

“Then, come with me,” he invited, extending his hand with an elegant flourish.

You grasped it firmly, ready to embarking on a new adventure with the King of Dreams. Your anticipation grew as you prepared to explore more of his daily routine, in a world that differed exponentially from yours.

The possibilities were boundless, with no path set in stone. Your imagination was the only limit, as every thought and desire that crossed your mind could shape and fall within your grasp without constraint.

Thus, finding yourself in Morpheus' work area, you weren't surprised to see that he had chosen a seraphic beach. The calm sea waves lulled you, while the surrounding mountains created a Nordic atmosphere, with just the right amount of stillness in the air. In a way, it mirrored your own dreamscape, deepening your link with him.

You observed Morpheus standing before partially formed creations, beings yet to be fully defined and brought to life. He gazed at them in contemplation, hands clasped together, his head tilted slightly. As you watched, one of the figures’ face morphed according to his vision.

He remained silent, and you matched his quietude, perched on a nearby rock, taking care not to disturb his concentration. As an artist yourself, you comprehended the importance of uninterrupted focus.

The sky was dotted with scattered clouds, casting a somber mood, while occasional sunbeams pierced through the gloom. The weather was intentional, with not a single element left to chance.

You adored every aspect of it, the Lord of Dreams and his realm in all their multifaceted glory.

Eventually, Lucienne returned, walking calmly towards you and Morpheus with a book in her hands. It was a new piece of literature that had just appeared in the library: "Into The Night," a fantasy novel Rose Walker would write in the near future. The idea that any story could be found in the Dreaming before its author had even put pen to paper was mind-boggling. You felt a flood of happiness for Rose, knowing her long-cherished dream would become reality, a future she had yet to discover.

Morpheus then entrusted the Corinthian's small skull to Lucienne, asking her to safeguard it for him. She took it without any hesitation, offering a wider smile as the silver ring on her pinky caught a glint of the subdued light.

“Lucienne. Do you not wish to say hello?”

Right before the librarian could retreat, her footsteps silent on the ground, Morpheus' voice rang out, halting her departure. His newest creation, a humanoid silhouette formed from dense purple and blue smoke, seemed vaguely familiar, yet you couldn’t exactly place where you had seen it before.

The Dream expanded and transformed, revealing an evolved form you finally recognized from your recent dream visit. Before you stood none other than Gault, the Nightmare Morpheus had once banished for challenging the Dreaming's balance and rules, now reborn from her former essence. As butterfly-like wings unfurled from her back, she shrugged her shoulders, adjusting to the unexpected metamorphosis. Her eyes opened, revealing first a glimmer of confusion, then shock as she noticed the fluttering membranes.

“I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to freighten.”

“The choice is not yours to make. We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

You inhaled sharply at the spectacle. Like a caterpillar, Gault had emerged as the new version of herself, elevated to the status of Dream after enduring such a painful time as a harbinger of fear.

Lucienne, for her part, was equally overjoyed. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”

Gault's jubilation could be perceived through the blissful smile illuminating her dark complexion. She stepped forward, looking at her appearance in disbelief. “Thank you, Lucienne!”

She was stunning, a living embodiment of an authentic fairytale. The same delicate purple cracks and lightning patterns she bore as a Nightmare still traced along her body, accentuating her unique presence.

“May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?” She asked Morpheus.

“I had no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that. So did you.”

His gaze briefly met yours, seeking a moment of connection. “But now I’m listening.”

Your eyes glistened at Morpheus' growth. His willingness to reconsider past decisions and embrace change signaled a significant shift in his character.

You never saw malice or wrongdoing in Morpheus' actions, always understanding that his choices were necessary for both the Dreaming and the sake of the Waking World. However, you couldn't help but find it endearing to see him soften towards his Nightmare's wish.

“Or trying to,” he concluded, glancing towards Lucienne again.

The librarian was touched and satisfied with her lord's new interpretation of the rules. They exchanged a silent look of complicity, one that demonstrated their enduring trust would transcend centuries of separation.

“New Dreams,” he declared. “New Nightmares. A new age.”

How had you found yourself in such a privileged position? Being present in the world of dreams had already proven invaluable, despite only a few hours passing since your awakening. You were amazed by the serendipity that had brought you to that point, allowed to explore the creation of dreams firsthand.

“Miss Y/LN, I present you Dream of the Endless.”

Who could have imagined that a humble job as a maid would blossom into a love surpassing the vastness of the universe and all conceivable realities?

“Thank you, sir.”

Gault's wings undulated in unison, their pace quickening as they sent gentle gusts of wind your way. She ascended from the ground, flying higher into the sky towards the sun. She embarked on her new calling, seeking dreamers to inspire, fulfilling the very dream she had long held for herself. The three of you looked at her soaring form until she became nothing more than a twinkling speck in the distance, like a fairy vanishing into the heavens.

The scene was breathtakingly beautiful and poetic, something worth seeing with your own eyes.

“I might be here a while,” Morpheus said, addressing Lucienne. “Would you mind taking care of things while I work?”

“I am back now. You may return to the library.”

The stark contrast between his current statement and his previous one, the latter driven by anger and frustration over the Vortex claiming parts of his realm, did not escape the notice of either you or Lucienne.

The librarian, visibly moved by Morpheus' words, responded with a teary smile. “With pleasure, sir.”

Despite life's complexities, you couldn't help but relish in those moments of happy resolutions. While perhaps idealistic, they always warmed your heart in a way that was difficult to dismiss, even in the face of the inevitable ups and downs.

With a final nod, she turned and strode away confidently, carrying the power of the Dreaming with utmost diligence and care.

You waited for tranquility to settle over the scene again, leaving you and Morpheus alone in the serene surroundings.

Your smile spoke volumes without the need for words. As soon as he noticed it, he mimicked it with a restrained grin of his own. "What?"

Rising elegantly from the rock, your gown sweeping elegantly behind you, you moved toward him. "You have no idea how proud I am of you right now."

“Are you?”

"Yes. Gault is perfect, and you couldn't entrust your realm to better hands than Lucienne's."

"Y/N, you have been instrumental in bringing about these changes."

You blinked in surprise. "How so?"

"You possess wisdom and composure. You view everything from a distinct perspective, one that has never passed judgment on my decisions."

You smiled warmly. Your insights about change and the parallels you drew between his work and mortal creativity weren't intended to sway his perspective. Yet, as he acknowledged, Morpheus had truly taken your words to heart.

"For that, my love, I must express my deepest gratitude."

His lips caressed yours with a feather-light touch, his arms encircling your back in the sweetest enfolding gesture. The kiss tasted of midnight breeze, carrying whispers of starlight and moonlit gardens. An almost imperceptible flavor lingered, like the first sip of crystal-clear spring water after a long, arduous odyssey.

"Why are you so good to me, Morpheus?"

"I see no reason to treat you any differently."

You hummed contentedly against his neck, tightening your arms around it. "I hope you don't mind if I hold on to you for a while."

"On the contrary, I welcome it. You are a wellspring of inspiration."

As you stood in each other's arms, you felt the unmoving creatures behind you, their blank eyes and empty faces watching you both in silent witness.

“If that’s the case, then take all the inspiration you need from me.”

And so he did. His creativity flourished, and the Dreaming itself seemed to pulse with renewed energy and possibility.

Witnessing Morpheus craft his new subjects was incredibly entertaining, and his willingness to seek your input on his decisions filled your heart with elation. He deeply valued your human perspective and was committed to honoring it fully, incorporating your personal views and minor suggestions into some of his creations.

Throughout the day, Morpheus fretted that his tasks might bore you or that you could find your time in his realm filled with activities you weren't particularly interested in, but you consistently assured him of your fascination and expressed how fortunate you felt just to be there. You found time in the Dreaming passing far too quickly for your liking, a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself.

The only thing that began to concern you was the visible weariness on Morpheus' face, an understandable result of his ceaseless work. Although the King of Dreams required neither sleep nor sustenance, you realized that even an Endless like himself ought to take an occasional respite.

Thankfully, you persuaded him that operations were running smoothly and he had capable assistance at his disposal. Heeding your advice to step away from his responsibilities, Morpheus joined you for a walk through the palace's garden, another celestial oasis teeming with enchantment and ever-changing elements.

Some flowers' petals, like the walls in your room, glowed in a beautiful spectrum, switching from soft blues to pinks and purples. Other blossoms defied nature, appearing from thin air and floating like lanterns. Towering trees with silver-like bark stretched skyward, their translucent leaves unlike anything in the Waking World. Instead of water, streams of liquid light meandered through the ground, defeating logic as they formed from unseen sources. The air hummed with distant sounds, breezes rustling through trees, tinkling of invisible bells, and the quiet murmur of whispered dreams.

Morpheus remained silent, observing you as you explored the garden with childlike exuberance. He stood before you while you sat beneath one of the main arches, your gown cascading around your legs. You smiled, extending your hand to him in a wordless invitation.

Although his lips curved into a soft expression, you detected a hint of hesitation in his demeanor, as if he were uneasy about taking a moment's rest in his own domain.

"Come on, the ground won't swallow you whole."

He chuckled, taking your fingers in his and following your lead with curiosity brightening his face. You parted your legs to create a space between them, gently guiding him to turn around and sit with his back against you.

Initially perplexed, Morpheus wasn't sure what to expect from you. But as you encouraged him to recline, his head resting comfortably upon your chest, your intention became clear.

You encircled his torso with your arms and pressed your lips to his temple. "Hi," you said affectionately.

Morpheus exhaled, the weight of centuries momentarily lifting from his shoulders. For one who bore the vastness of dreams and the neverending burden of his duties, that moment of simplicity felt foreign, yet profoundly welcome.

“Hello,” he whispered back, his voice carrying a vulnerability you had never seen before.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” you asked quietly, your fingers bushing through his dark, tousled hair.

“I am not afforded the luxury of rest.”

"Well, even the Lord of Dreams needs some time to unwind every now and then."

Your hands rested gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"You make it natural for me to let go," he proclaimed

"Then I'll be here to remind you whenever you need it."

He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "And here I thought I would be the one caring for you."

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It is just… unfamiliar.”

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

“I have always been the protector, the guardian. To allow myself to be cared for is a vulnerability I have seldom embraced. But with you… it feels different. It feels… good.”

A tranquil sigh escaped your lips. "I told you. You don't have to do everything alone. Let me share the weight with you."

"My love, these burdens are not yours to bear."

“You’re wrong.”

“Why?”

"Have you forgotten my words at the convention? I vowed to be your light, regardless of the challenges you face.”

Unlike those who had forsaken him, you swore to stand by his side, come what may. Knowing of a sibling who seemed particularly invested in destroying Morpheus, you were even more determined to stand your ground for him.

You were even prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, laying down your own life if it meant ensuring his safety and continued existence.

"As a mortal, my abilities may be limited, but my commitment to you runs deep. I want to be a place where you feel safe and appreciated. That's what being devoted to you means to me."

Morpheus closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax fully. Lying somewhere without defenses, doing absolutely nothing—an activity he had previously dismissed as unnecessary—had now become his absolute favorite pastime, provided you were the one supporting him.

“You already are,” he responded. “And with you, Y/N, I find that I do not mind it.”

Unity Kincaid had permanently left the Dreaming during one of your night retreats. Missing your final opportunity to bid her farewell left you with a twinge of regret, but Lucienne assured you that Unity had been escorted to her perfect resting place, where she now dwelled in peace.

As time passed in the Dreaming, you grew increasingly certain that no other journey or getaway could ever compare. It seemed impossible to experience anything more extraordinary, with every imaginable marvel lying within arm's reach.

Amidst the vast oases, mystical caves, and worlds blending fantastical and realistic features, along with the food and drinks you savored, you were at a loss for words to describe the peace it brought you. The castle was a dynamic maze, unveiling new rooms and mysteries each day.

Assisting Lucienne with organizing literature and archives proved surprisingly enjoyable. Matthew's companionship was invaluable, always ready with witty remarks to lighten the mood. Even the seemingly cantankerous Mervyn the Pumpkinhead turned out to be pleasant company during his maintenance. Gradually, each Dreaming entity was becoming significant, leaving an unforgettable impression upon your soul.

At the heart of it all was Morpheus, who transmuted the impossible into reality in ways beyond imagination.

In the end, just when you thought he was not particularly inclined, he granted you that precious time for intimacy you had long waited for. Morpheus exceeded expectations, enthusiastically extending these moments across multiple rendezvous, offering far more than you had initially requested.

The first time Morpheus made love to you in his realm, fully awake and present, it unfolded naturally, without premeditation or orchestration. What began as a leisurely stroll through one of your favorite spots in the Dreaming, hand in hand, soon blossomed into a passionate exchange. Your lips met in a heated dance, kisses deepening with each passing instant, your desire igniting like wildfire. Morpheus gently lowered you to the ground, cradling your body close to his, the soft grass and fragrant flowers yielding beneath you to create a natural bed.

Your clothes vanished in seconds, leaving your naked forms pressed against each other as he delivered a series of precise thrusts that sent waves of pleasure through your body. The grass transformed continuously, enveloping the two of you with its velvety blades like a supportive cuddle. As you connected with the King of Dreams, you also became intimately intertwined with the Dreaming itself, becoming an integral part of it, seamlessly incorporated into its very terrain.

The ecstasy crescendoed to its zenith. Morpheus, though withdrawn, remained atop you, kissing you and basking in your warmth. Your fingertips traced the contours of his back, feeling each defined nerve and muscle. Lean yet powerful, his form was both comforting and sculpted. The delicious feeling of his statuesque body against yours rekindled your arousal, one that burned equally in Morpheus as your lips locked in an infinite pas de deux.

While making love in your dreams was extraordinary, the reality surpassed it by leaps and bounds.

Soon, his body signaled his readiness to rejoin with yours again. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes seeking your approval before proceeding. “May I?”

His unwavering respect for you was admirable, his devotion relentless.

“Yes. Please.”

Never had you longed for someone as intensely as you wanted him. It was intoxicating, an irresistible addiction. The moment he entered, gliding through your slick folds and exploring your depths, your eyes rolled back in sheer bliss. You moaned and trembled, biting your lower lip and whining whenever he struck the right spot, your sensations heightened and reset.

Morpheus required at least three rounds in a row to feel thoroughly sated, yet the resulting soreness in your limbs didn't bother you in the slightest.

Nonetheless, he sought your private company again the following day.

Seated before the bathroom mirror and swathed in a silky robe that clung to your curves, you prepared for a luxurious soak in the pool before bed. As you delicately removed the last traces of makeup with the plushest towel, you barely noticed Morpheus suddenly standing just steps away.

As you turned around, your breath caught and you froze in astonishment. Despite your best efforts to contain it, the shock was evident on your face. Morpheus appeared before you completely nude, his alabaster skin radiant in the soft light. His form embodied the perfection of classical sculpture, an excellent vision of flawless beauty. His overall magnificence was so outstanding that it nearly overshadowed his raging erection, sturdy and proud, irresistibly tempting.

In a way, yes, but not exactly.

With a mischievous smile, you abandoned the softness of the stool to approach the King of Dreams, your eyes briefly pausing on the flushed tip of his arousal before meeting his face. Confident and majestic, he waited for you to draw near, his jaw tightening as your robe loosened, revealing more with each step.

“Were you thinking of me?” you asked with a smile, sliding your fingertips along his chest, your lips mere inches away from his.

“My thoughts are always with you, my love,” he answered naturally.

You moved lower, grasping his length with your hand, guiding it in a slow, gentle motion. "It seems you're particularly pleased to see me."

“’Pleased’ is not quite the word I would choose.”

You circled his tip with your thumb, teasing the sensitive flesh. “Oh? And how would you describe it?”

He swallowed, his lips parting to release a soft sigh of relief. "I would describe it as... inevitable."

“Inevitable?”

"It is as inescapable as the pull of the tide or the turning of the stars. When you are absent, the Dreaming seems diminished, as if a vital part of me is missing."

Your stomach twisted, and your heart raced. “You saw me just an hour ago.”

"You are here, within the boundless walls of my realm. I am loath to squander even a minute of it."

Your smile widened with love. “Well, in that case…”

As you released him, your hand took his, which lay motionless at his side. Untying the sash of your robe, the garment fell open, revealing your womanhood and the swell of your breasts. You guided his index and middle fingers to your core, their tips slipping through your wetness and barely dipping inside.

Your knees quivered at the contact, but you held firm. “I’d say this is inevitable as well,” you concluded.

He inhaled sharply, the sound echoing in the intimate silence between you, a wordless understanding passing as he leaned closer. Your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment rich with unspoken promises.

"You have an uncanny ability to enthrall an Endless."

“Are you suggesting that I'm driving you wild?”

"Perhaps," he mused, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "But only in the most delightful ways," he added, his voice full of affection.

You draped an arm around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his cheek. His hand moved away, leaving you empty and craving more, only to pull you into his arms. He kissed your eyebrow and the bridge of your nose, treasuring the melodic sound of your soft chuckle reverberating through the spacious room.

As you gracefully retreated, your robe fell to the floor, uncovering the rest of your body. His eyes traveled from your neck, rested on the glowing Dreamstone, then trailed down to your nipples. He admired every curve, each detail a testament to the allure that attracted him. The air charged with anticipation as he advanced, once again grasping your hand in his.

Shifting aside, you led him backward to the pool's steps. Cautiously, you eased into the glistening water, the steam cloaking you both like a gossamer veil. The crystal-like liquid engulfed your feet, legs, and waist until it reached your shoulders. Morpheus followed, his hardness bobbing as he descended the marble stairs, submerging himself to chest level.

He could transform even such an erotic view into the highest form of art. He was absolutely hypnotic, something to admire without a trace of shame or embarrassment.

Holding onto his shoulders for support, you hooked your legs around his waist, the water's buoyancy aiding your graceful movement, as if you were weightless. Morpheus immediately clasped your thighs, aligning himself with your open folds and brushing his lips along your cheek. The fountain's sound created a heavenly retreat, its soft trickle providing a soothing backdrop.

With just a few more kisses, he cast aside any inhibition and entered you in one fluid motion. You moaned, adjusting your position to allow him to set the rhythm, and surrendered to his growing ardor as he moved in and out. Your bodies undulated together, the soft splashes of water creating a symphony.

Time seemed to fade away as the purple hue of the crystals illuminated the pool, generating a beautiful gradient transition. Morpheus' movements grew more erratic and fervent, eventually pressing you against the edge of the pool to gain leverage. His muscles tensed and rippled, his deep groans pulsating through his chest.

Your voice escaped you, uncontrolled, as you arched your back, overcome with intense pleasure. Your fingers interlaced with his dark locks, your nails gently grazing his scalp in a soothing caress. Morpheus was relentless, enraptured by your moans and how your body responded to his touch.

“Scream,” he commanded, delivering a powerful thrust that made you jolt and gasp. “Scream for me,” he urged again.

Unable to resist him, you let out a moan so powerful you could hear it bouncing off the walls, returning to you like a siren’s call.

He escalated his efforts, becoming more insistent, rough, and daring. He reached the most sensitive parts of you with practiced precision, coaxing soft whimpers from you. Your orgasm erupted suddenly, crashing over you like a tidal wave and leaving you limp in Morpheus' embrace. Moments later, Morpheus reached his peak alongside you, spurred by your inner walls contracting around him, and the unconscious fondling of your breast.

While some claim that aquatic sex falls short of expectations, with Morpheus, there was no possibility of disappointment or inadequacy. You felt spent yet complete, absolutely satiated.

"You are sublime, my love. Have I caused you any discomfort?"

You smiled, feeling him soften inside you, yet cherishing the physical union for as long as your bodies allowed. "Not at all. You're incapable of causing me harm."

"You have never feared me."

"No. How could I possibly fear you?"

Despite his capacity for intimidation, you consistently discovered enchantment in Morpheus, even during his darkest demonstrations of power.

"Yet, I can be truly terrifying," he said with a wry grin.

"Ooh, now you've piqued my curiosity."

He drifted away from the edge, carrying you with him as you clung to his form, your bodies connected in the water. "You do not wish to witness that side of me. But, if your curiosity is insatiable…"

Gently threading his fingers through your hair, he guided your head back without force, then placed an open-mouthed kiss on your neck.

"I shall utterly consume you," he purred playfully.

You let out a soft, contented sigh followed by a gentle laugh, folding your arms around him as if he were your lifeline. “Best way to die, really.”

"I'd much prefer to keep you alive and by my side."

Brushing your nose against his, you replied, "Good thing I have no intention of leaving you anytime soon."

Or ever, for whatever eternity might mean to a mortal like you.

Morpheus tightened his grip on you, plump lips grazing your right shoulder. Even the fountain statue across the room seemed to smile upon the scene, its constant waterfall creating a circular halo around your forms in the pool.

The third and final time you made love eclipsed any prior experience with the King of Dreams.

The night before your scheduled return to the Waking World, you had the most delectable dinner of your entire life. Though a week in Morpheus' realm had flown by, you couldn't postpone your work indefinitely, no matter how much you wanted to stay.

Although you were accustomed to dining in your private quarters, Morpheus chose a far more elegant setting, where he could also keep you company throughout the entire meal. He didn't eat, of course, but he remained seated at your side from the first course to the last, absolutely adoring the way you smiled with every bite.

The place he chose for you was a secluded area within his castle, situated on a high-ceilinged terrace with a breathtaking view of the landscape. The decorations resembled those in your bedroom, with silver vines adorning the columns, arches, and railing, interspersed with moonflowers and dark green leaves. The long, dark-polished wooden table was adorned with a delicate white lace covering.

The plates were night-blue ceramic, decorated with the customary theme of intricate constellations and twinkling stars. Complementing them were large, weighty glasses, masterfully crafted from the finest Aura crystal and purest gold. Candles scattered throughout emitted a soft, amber glow, their flames swaying in unison.

The dinner itself was a magnificent feast, each dish meticulously prepared to cater to your tastes and desires, yet infused with a celestial twist. Ingredients harvested from the very essence of dreams transformed every bite into a sensory experience far beyond anything the Waking World could offer you. From the most succulent meats and freshest fish to the tastiest, softest bread and the most delectable chocolate tart, you devoured every element with the appetite of someone who hadn't eaten in months.

As you enjoyed the final morsel of dessert, Morpheus inquired if you wished for anything else. You felt so pleasantly full that the mere thought of additional food seemed impossible for the foreseeable future.

Following your generous dinner, you embarked on a much-needed walk that proved essential for aiding digestion after your hearty meal. Morpheus regaled you with tales from the past, stories that had faded into forgotten legends. One such story recounted the time two ancient gods invaded the Dreaming in an attempt to seize control, and you were undoubtedly shocked as Morpheus described his imprisonment within his own castle

Despite his powerlessness, Morpheus ingeniously carved his siblings' sigils on his prison walls. In an ironic twist, it was Desire who answered his call, dispatching a dreamer to aid him.

Although Morpheus initially withheld certain facts, your inquiries prompted him to reconsider. He realized that hiding aspects of himself from you would be unwise, and recognizing this, he transported you to the very gates of his kingdom, a location you suddenly recognized as familiar from a distant dream.

Darkness enveloped you both, the night sky casting long shadows, yet you could still clearly discern the intricate details of the massive gate standing at the edge of the Dreaming. It rose imposingly from a vast expanse that looked more lively and flourishing than before, a sentinel marking the boundary between worlds.

"Morpheus... this is..."

"These are the Gates of Horn and Ivory," he explained, his voice resonating with ancient power. "I carved them myself many eons ago."

Your eyes narrowed as you scrutinized the intricate figures etched onto the entrance. "I've been here before.”

Morpheus turned to face you, his eyes widening slightly. "You have? That should be impossible."

You shook your head firmly. "No, I'm certain. I remember this place vividly."

You stepped forward, your dress billowing in the breeze alongside Morpheus' flowing coat. "It happened a few months ago, when we were still barely acquainted. In fact, I believe this was my very first dream ever. I had completely forgotten about it upon waking."

Morpheus listened intently, his silence encouraging you to continue.

"I suppose this is not a typical destination for mortals in their dreams, yet I found myself here. I distinctly recall these doors and the carvings. I remember touching them."

"And then?"

"Then I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Waking World. Nothing particularly thrilling to report, I'm afraid."

His cool fingers gently clasped your hand. "Would you like me to explain the significance of these gates?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yes. I'd love to hear about it."

"Dreams that pass through the Gate of Ivory are lies, while the the Gate of Horn only admits the truth."

You gazed upward, taking in the towering doors and the massive horns protruding from the rocky pinnacles above. "I assume this is the Gate of Horn?"

"You are correct."

"And… who is the woman depicted in these carvings?"

Morpheus stiffened, his eyes shifting away. "Her name was Alianora."

"Alianora… was she the dreamer Desire sent you?”

“Yes.”

His answer was brief and to the point. You noticed him glancing at Alianora's face, the tendons in his neck tensing.

"She was more than that, though. Right?"

"Why do you ask?”

"These carvings tell something else. I can see they are not mere decorations, Morpheus. She was your lover once, wasn't she?"

When your eyes met again, you saw the pain inscribed in his furrowed brows and pursed lips. You immediately perceived it as yet another star-crossed romance, one of the many heartbreaking narratives he'd rather forget than relive.

Most likely, it was a subject he would hesitate to discuss with you, out of consideration for your feelings.

"…We were in love," he confessed. “But—”

"It's all right. You don’t need to talk about it if you'd prefer not to."

He swallowed nervously, unconsciously tightening his grip around your hand.

The thought of his numerous past girlfriends and a wife, coupled with the likelihood that you wouldn't be his last, still caused an ache in your heart that was incredibly hard to suppress. However, you were confident in Morpheus’ love for you, believing it to be as strong as—or even surpassing—his affection for others, which had faded over time.

The future remained uncertain, an unpredictable path that remained beyond anyone's ability to predict. You chose to embrace the joy of the present moment, savoring a reality worth living without dwelling on hypothetical outcomes.

"Thank you, Morpheus," you said warmly.

“For what…?”

"For telling me the truth about Alianora, and for bringing me to the Gates. Your honesty and opennes about your past demonstrates how much you trust me.” You returned his squeeze, giving him a reassuring smile.

His irises captured the quintessence of the Dreaming as he looked down at you. His voice, usually so measured and distant, softened as he replied, "My past is filled with mistakes, and with those I have loved and lost. I have lived countless lifetimes, seen the rise and fall of empires, and walked through the dreams of gods and mortals alike.”

He cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. "With every breath, every dream, and every waking moment, I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of the precious gift that is your love.”

Grabbing the lapens of his coat, you whispered against his lips, “You already are,” repeating the same words he had spoken to you in the castle's garden.

That revelatory moment was followed by a final return to your chambers, where Morpheus departed with a sweet kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone with your bittersweet thoughts. You slipped into your luxurious nightgown, its glittering fabric evoking the starry sky above and mirrored the opulence of the castle. Perched on the bed’s edge, you found yourself engrossed in contemplation, your familiar world now seeming oddly remote, as though it were a tale belonging to someone else.

It simply defied description. Your journey into the Dreaming had awakened something different in you, a newfound certainty that shattered your previous understanding of yourself. It felt as if your perception had expanded, your inner vision broadening to embrace new possibilities.

Sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to succumb to slumber. You wanted to memorize every detail of the view into your mind—the majestic mountains, the winding rivers, and the vast forests painting the ground with sprays of verdant colors. Drawn to the balcony, you rested your hands on the broad parapet, your eyes drinking in the landscape.

You knew, with dreadful certainty, that you'd miss every aspect of the Dreaming, down to the tiniest grain of sand.

Little did you know, Morpheus had kept an additional surprise under wraps.

“Y/N.”

He stood right behind you, his lips curving into a subtle smile as you swiveled to face him. Surprisingly, he had returned despite your assumption that he'd retired for the night to handle his responsibilities, only to reappear the next morning to escort you back to the Waking World.

Overjoyed, you rushed to him as if reuniting after a long separation. You flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your limbs around his neck and waist in an elated embrace.

Morpheus caught you smoothly, his cool, steady hands supporting your back. A soft chuckle escaped him as he cradled you close. “You were not expecting me.”

“No, I wasn’t. I thought you had work to do.”

"I do," he replied, setting you down on the floor, his fingers resting on your sides. "But I have a more pressing duty at the moment."

The Dreaming seemed to narrow, focusing solely on the two of you. "Really? Are you referring to me?"

"There is something I have prepared for you that you must see."

"Another surprise? You're officially spoiling me now."

"You deserve the entire universe to bend to your will."

"What use is the universe when I already have my wonderful Dream King?"

"Then, allow your king to present you with one final offering. Close your eyes."

He placed his palm on your temple, his fingertips lightly covering your eyes. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyelids and finding yourself enveloped in darkness. His touch was reassuring, a comforting presence in the void.

For a moment, you felt a subtle change in your environment. The air around you became salty and fresh, and the sound of crashing waves replaced the gentle flickering of burning lanterns.

"You can open them now, my love."

You complied, your trepidation mounting. As your vision cleared, you beheld one of the most sensational natural paradises, a scene you'd only glimpsed in documentaries and videos.

The ocean before you echoed the lake from your dream and the Greek pool in your bathroom. A distinctive blue bioluminescence formed along the shoreline, ebbing and flowing with each sinuous wave. The night sky displayed a mesmerizing array of moving galaxies, slowly swirling in a celestial loop.

"Morpheus... this is... it's not a new place, is it?"

"No," he confirmed, his voice deep and resonant. "This is your dream. I have restored it for you."

"You didn't merely restore it. You've enhanced it beyond my wildest imagination."

"Does it please you?"

“It’s perfect.”

Your voice quivered with emotion, and you made no attempt to conceal your feelings from him. The realization that he had taken the time to recreate your beach, amidst his countless duties, sent your heart racing to heights you feared might be difficult to reclaim.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, his breath whispering against your ear as he held you securely from behind. Leaning into his form, you delighted in the velvety sand under your feet.

You remained like that for a while, enveloped in serene silence, listening to the calming pulse of the waves. Morpheus' fingertips traced delicate paths along your arms as he placed feather-light kisses on your neck. His lips traveled lower, brushing against your shoulder, causing the thin strap of your nightgown to slip off. It rested loosely on your upper arm, revealing part of your chest while maintaining modesty.

Nevertheless, it was clear his intentions surpassed merely showcasing a reconstructed dream. His touch was intentional, his breath growing deeper and more impassioned.

You let him proceed, welcoming his hands as they explored your body. One palm moved across your stomach, while the other toyed with the delicate strap of your nightgown, now resting precariously on your arm. His lips found the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, leaving another trail of kisses that expressed his fondness for you.

Your breath quickened as he pulled you close. His fingers curled around the fabric of your nightgown just above your pubic bone, tortuously grazing the edge of your clit without quite reaching it. The gentle brush of silk against your skin caused your nipples to harden, heightening your sensitivity to his every gesture.

"My love," he uttered softly. "I wish to make your final night in my realm unforgettable."

You swallowed hard, a new rush of desire instantly coursing through your veins.

"Permit me to embrace you wholly, to delve into the depths of our connection in ways yet unexplored.”

Unexplored…?

"Allow me to worship you in a manner that truly honors your worth."

Undoubtedly, that was the most eloquent and heartfelt way anyone could express their longing for intimacy with their beloved.

"I was already convinced the moment you brought me here, but please, don't stop with these beautiful words."

His breath caressed the nape of your neck, a subtle sign of his amusement. "You do relish having your king plead for your attention."

"Well, you've uncovered my secret," you said with a smirk. "But I have to say, I adore the sound of your voice."

“My voice?”

"You could say the most outlandish statement imaginable, and I'd still be on my knees for you."

As his fingertips traced along your bare shoulder, a delicious shiver ran down your spine. “Then you shall hear it as often as you require, for you are the only one to whom I wish to speak so freely.”

"I mean, I'd prefer those words be reserved solely for me, anyway."

"The words I speak, the things I feel, they are only for you.”

You turned your head, looking at him with wide, loving eyes. "I fell head over heels for you when you were still confined to that sphere. But I'm sure you're well aware of that."

Despite his omniscience, Morpheus seemed to ponder your confession, his face a canvas of curiosity and wonder. "Were you truly?"

"You didn't know? I thought it was rather obvious.”

"I was aware of the possibility, yet the full realization that your heart had already pledged itself to me eluded my grasp."

You melted against his chest, your fingers intertwining with his. "You were my anchor during the darkest times, and that's not an exaggeration."

The strap slid further down, leaving your breast nearly exposed.

"You saw me, even then. When I was trapped, powerless... you looked upon me with love, when I could give you nothing in return.”

Shaking your head, you spoke with a soft but resolute voice. "You gave me far more than you realize."

“How?”

"How could you not? Your eyes, your strength, your grace… it was all there, Morpheus. Even in silence.”

With gentle precision, he lowered the other strap. Though no words were exchanged, your silent consent had already been given, rendering his actions both accepted and awaited.

"I know you probably want to forget your time in captivity, but to me, you were incredibly beautiful. I wanted to set you free, to show you the respect they'd denied a god of your stature."

The top of your nightgown fell away, exposing your chest and gathering around your waist.

"Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel like I haven't done enough."

"It was your kindness that became my true escape," he intoned, his fingers easing the fabric down your sides. "You cared, even when I was not your responsibility."

"I wish I could have been there for you when they captured you. When they hurt you."

It was astonishing to think that during those events, you had not yet come into existence.

“If I were to endure another eternity of confinement, I would do so willingly, without hesitation, if it meant having just one moment with you by my side.”

The nightgown dropped to the sand, leaving you practically bare, clad only in delicate, lacy cotton undergarments.

"In all the time I have existed, I have known many things; creation, destruction, endless cycles of time and change. One moment with you eclipses the eternity I have lived, and I would sacrifice a thousand more eternities for a single heartbeat in your presence.”

Smiling, you stepped out of the nightgown and gently nudged it aside with your foot. Even crumpled on the beach, it remained a spectacular sight, its starry fabric seeming to have a life of its own.

"Well, let's hope you're never imprisoned again. I much prefer you free and close to me."

"I have no desire to be anywhere else but here with you.”

You hummed appreciatively, feeling a pleasant tremor as his palms moved up and down your stomach, teasing at the curve of your breasts, leaving them achingly untouched.

Then, something unexpected occurred. The sand around you began to rise, forming undulating, snake-like shapes that slithered up your ankles, calves, and thighs. As the grains coalesced into two sandy hands, you startled slightly at the unexpected intrusion.

“Ah—”

"Shh," he soothed. "Fear not. Every part of this realm is an extension of myself."

The newly formed hands, perfect replicas of Morpheus', skillfully caressed your skin. They delicately explored the line of your inner thighs, reaching the lace edges of your underwear. As they touched the fabric, it began to dissolve into nothingness, like wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.

"Does this discomfort you, my love?" I will cease if you wish it so."

It was unfamiliar, certainly not something you'd ever imagined in your fantasies. Yet, as you found yourself completely exposed, handled with such gentleness by Morpheus and those peculiar appendages made of sand, you couldn't deny the allure of your situation.

"No, it doesn't. In fact, I think I like it."

The touch was unmistakably his, belonging to Morpheus alone.

"Let my realm witness your magnificence in your entirety," he said huskily. "Let the Dreaming become one with you."

Fully unclothed, your body responded to the intimate atmosphere. Your nipples hardened into taut peaks, while your aroused clitoris emerged from its delicate folds, reminiscent of a flower in full bloom.

The ethereal hands drifted upward, skimming over your hipbones before trailing their fingers across your upper abdomen. This time, they continued to your breasts, cupping them with a soft squeeze and creating an immediate friction against your nipples.

More hands emerged from the beach, steadying your legs as they threatened to buckle beneath you. Morpheus' solid form melded with your back, his physical hands remaining still. The Dreaming itself, an extension of its master's will, came alive with purpose, its magical touch caressing your skin with a gentleness that belied its nature. As the boundary between Morpheus and his domain blurred, you found yourself immersed in a torrent of sensations, each grain of sand, each whisper of wind, an instrument in this symphony of ecstasy orchestrated by the Dream King himself.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your chest heaving as the sandy fingers performed a synchronized dance around your nipples. Your hips shook and swayed, seeking more stimulation, while your lower body yearned for something that remained elusive. Your clit throbbed as the cool air blew over it, while waves of pleasure emanated from those dreamy hands, sending tingles through your limbs and causing your muscles to ache.

"M-Morpheus," you gasped.

“My love?”

“Please… touch me…”

Your desperation had grown with surprising speed, bordering on shameful. Yet, when it came to the Endless, your self-restraint evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

He breathed into your ear. "I already am."

Ah, so he wanted to play that game now.

"Are you really going to feign ignorance about my meaning?"

"No. I would never leave my precious queen wanting."

Queen? Oh my. He certainly knew which buttons to push.

"You wouldn't, would you? Then, please."

As the sandy hands continued their sensual ministrations on your breasts, Morpheus' fingers skimmed down to your upper thighs. He kept them there, motionless, teasing you with their proximity to your most sensitive area and leaving you writhing for more.

"However, I must confess—I find pleasure in witnessing your insatiable hunger for me, my sweet."

Your sharp intake of breath punctuated his effect on you. "Well then, Your Majesty, what's it going to be?"

"I could grant your wish. Perhaps I will. But I am quite certain you possess the strength to resist it."

Ugh.

“Morpheus, I swear—”

"I could leave you here, at the mercy of my realm, watching you from afar. Admire your body writhing in pleasure and need for me."

As he continued his speech, the hands intensified their movements. Your nipples were pinched and flicked, while your entire body was covered by rivulets of golden sand.

“Don’t you dare—”

“—But I shall not.”

Morpheus grew bolder, his fingertips delicately brushing your sensitive folds, parting them with exquisite care. He exposed your clit to the cool ocean breeze, unveiling it like a pearl freed from its shell, as if the sea itself were a silent, mesmerized spectator.

"You're lucky I can't conjure extra limbs," you quipped.

“Or what?”

"You'd find yourself stripped naked in a heartbeat."

He loved every moment, each playful remark, every gasp, moan, and whimper that fell from your lips.

"But tonight, my love, is not about me."

"I don't care. You're breathtaking. I don’t need an excuse to crave the sight of you."

“Beauty is not something often attributed to me.”

You giggled as he began to lower you, all hands maneuvering your form onto a perfect sandy cushion. "You may not be typically described using human aesthetics, but you are beautiful, Morpheus. Not just in appearance, though that's undeniable. It's in the way you move, how your presence transforms the world around you, like an interplay of shadows and light."

He opened his legs, enveloping your smaller figure as he settled onto the shore, his arms encircling your waist. Only two of the sandy extensions remained, continuing to caress and fondle your chest, while those around your legs dissipated.

"B-but more than that, it's what I see when you're not trying to be the Lord of Dreams. When you're just... you. The way you care, the way you protect, the way you love.”

Finally, you yielded to the moment, settling against his torso as you spread your thighs. His fingers, at last, found their way to their eagerly awaited destination.

"You perceive more of me than anyone ever has," he said. "Perhaps I am as you describe, because I reflect what I see in you."

With masterful skill, he teased your clit in a slow, light stroke that transported you into a state of blissful rapture.

"Every part of you is a masterpiece," he whispered reverently. "Surrender yourself to me, my love. I will treasure it all."

A moan escaped your lips as your nails dug into the sand. His touch quickened, gathering your wetness and creating a perfect, slick stimulation that brought you closer to the edge. Your nipples throbbed and tingled, while Morpheus' unmistakable arousal pressed firmly against your back through his trousers.

"Don't stop," you begged, your voice thick with urgency. "I'm so close."

“I will not. Let me feel it.”

His fingers accelerated, tracing tight circles around your swollen bud. Simultaneously, the additional hands on your breasts tightened their grip and kneaded, causing your hips to buck wildly as his fingers pressed harder against your sensitive flesh. Pressure built to a crescendo, threatening to crash over you at any moment.

The familiar tension in your lower abdomen coiled tightly, ready to unravel. You draped one leg over his thigh, which he supported firmly, holding you in place.

“Ngh—you’re so good. Please, please, please—oh!”

It was indescribable, unprecedented, exceptional, unmatched.

Your orgasm struck you like a thunderstorm, so powerful that you felt certain your shudders and spasms would ripple through the entire Dreaming. The hands made of sand released you, dissolving and streaming down as the grains returned to their original form. Morpheus' fingers persisted, scarcely slowing their pace, continuing their relentless stroke even as the electric current of your climax began to ebb.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, his fingers offered a few final, gentle caresses to your sensitive clit before coming to rest. He remained there, unmoving, allowing you to catch your ragged breath in the sanctuary of his arms.

Morpheus consistently made you feel secure, completely at ease with yourself and your surroundings. He effortlessly maintained an atmosphere of naturalness and comfort, perfectly attuned to your needs.

You rolled onto your side, disentangling yourself, and swept your hand across his chest before letting it drift up to touch his face. He smiled tenderly, drawing you closer as he affectionately pressed his forehead against yours.

"That was incredible," you breathed. "Absolutely mind-blowing."

"You truly inspire my creativity to reach new heights."

"Are you saying I could expect a full doppelgänger of you made of sand next?"

"If that is your wish, I could certainly arrange it for you."

You chuckled. "As great as this was, I prefer the original you over any replicas."

You initiated a kiss, which he reciprocated with ardent devotion.

"Speaking of which," you purred, breaking the contact. "I believe someone's eagerly **awaiting attention," you added with a grin.

Your hand trailed downward, touching the firm outline of his erection constrained within his black trousers. Morpheus held perfectly still, aquamarine eyes meeting your own, as he anticipated your next move.

You unfastened the button and zipper, carefully lowering his garments as much as his seated position allowed. As his hardness sprang free from its restraints, you let out a smug "Ooh," followed by a flirtatious "Hello." It was rather comical, to the point that even Morpheus, who seldom laughed and rarely joked, seemed genuinely entertained by your reaction.

There was no mischief, however, as you found genuine happiness even in your most intimate situations. Gently wrapping your hand around his tip and sliding it along his length, you stifled your giggles against his clothed chest.

"And you claimed you could leave me here and watch. Yet look at yourself now."

"I am not human. My capacity for restraint far exceeds that of mortal men."

You nodded. "True. But could you really just stand there and watch me without taking action?"

“…No.”

You were beaming, catching your breath, before giving Morpheus one confident, rather audacious lick along his neck, swiping your tongue over his pronounced Adam's apple. "Oh, Dream Lord, the things you do to me."

"I am here to offer you everything, and to receive all that you wish to give me."

Without releasing your grip on his manhood, you shifted onto your knees, steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder. "How would you prefer to take me, my love?" you asked, your desire for him resurging in your core.

He grasped your waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. "I wish to have you in every way conceivable," he said in a low voice. "But for now, I'd like you to turn around and position yourself on all fours."

His commanding tone sent a thrill through you, quickening your pulse. You pivoted and settled onto your hands and knees enthusiastically, presenting your body to him like a precious prize, one he had rightfully earned and deeply deserved.

You could feel his piercing scrutiny, the rustle of his clothes as he adjusted his stance, and his long digits traversing your outer thighs.

"Your beauty rivals the stars above and surpasses the splendor of the ocean before us."

His rigid length pressed against your slick folds. "Be my light, tonight and for eternity."

Then, he fully sank in, his impressive length stretching and filling you completely. Your bodies merged in perfect unison, a testament to your physical and emotional compatibility.

“Yes!!”

Your response erupted as a strangled cry, both answering his words and reacting to the way your body accommodated him. You clenched around him instinctively, jerking forward as he began to move. He slipped in and out of you with a passion that spoke of a century of starvation, you were already primed and ready for him to claim you, requiring no further preparation.

The wet sounds of skin meeting skin, punctuated by the slick noises of his thrusts, blended perfectly with the pulsing sea waves. The shore shimmered and glowed, as if echoing the cadence of a heartbeat.

You pushed yourself up, remaining on your knees as your arms sought his form, your face turning to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your tongues entwined as your lips collided, fitting together like two halves of a whole. Sighs and more laughter mingled with your breathless encouragement for more. His satisfaction was evident in the darkening sparkle of his eyes, the open grin that graced his face, and the impossible growth of his hardness in you.

His hands cradled your breasts before gliding downward again. You invoked his name repeatedly, shaking and shouting in total bliss, your throat almost burning from the exertion. Your clit quivered with pleasure the moment he pinched it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers like a delicate knob.

"So good!" you exclaimed breathlessly. "I love you so much!"

"Your love is my lifeblood, matched only by the infinite depths of my devotion to you."

"More, please! Harder!"

He doubled his efforts, each powerful thrust accompanied by a deep groan, synchronizing with the relentless waves crashing even faster against the shore. The second orgasm built up so quickly that you wished you could prolong the tension, but judging by the way he throbbed against your core, you could tell that Morpheus was teetering on the edge right along with you.

A few more thrusts, coupled with the deft twirling of his fingers around your clit, were all it took to send you to the moon and back a second time. It was explosive, earth-shattering, and all-consuming.

Morpheus followed suit, his rhythm becoming erratic before he released himself into your depths with a guttural groan. His body shuddered and stilled as he reached his climax, his hands clutching your hips as he breathed in the intoxicating scent of your hair.

Even a being as powerful as him found himself vulnerable and defenseless before your charm.

He had given you the stars, quite literally. He incorporated you into his realm as an essential element, as if its very existence hinged on your presence there.

"You belong to me," he proclaimed, unfurling his coat and enveloping you in a protective cocoon as you collapsed onto his chest. "No one else will ever claim you or know you as I do. Your heart, your very dreams... they are mine alone."

His possessiveness surfaced, and you curled up close to him, his coat enveloping you like a warm, soothing bath. "I would never want to belong to anyone else, Morpheus. And you... you are mine too, right?"

It was a daring question, but one you had every right to ask.

“You hold my heart. In every way that matters, yes: I am yours.”

Your smile radiated as brightly as the luminescent ocean. Relaxing into Morpheus's arms, you were lulled by the natural melodies surrounding you, feeling his essence trickling out of your opening. You found it neither unpleasant nor embarrassing, but rather a fundamental aspect of your intimate bond that you hoped would endure forever.

Imperceptibly, you drifted into slumber protected by the Sandman himself, as if suspended amidst stardust. As the night progressed, Morpheus gently carried you back to your king-sized bed, your nightgown magically restored to its proper place on you.

Your skin was immaculate, clean and smooth, notwithstanding all the sand that had previously covered it.

For the first time, he stayed with you, seated on the edge of the mattress, observing your form in reverent silence. His gaze traced your angelic face framed by silken tresses as your head rested on the pillow, your chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The moonstone gleamed in his presence, a unique token he could never craft for anyone else. The knowledge that you carried a part of him with you filled Morpheus with profound joy.

Out of the stillness, Astra appeared from the shadows, his hooves barely making a sound as he approached the bed. The delicate glow of the green patterns on his fur illuminated the space around you, casting a soft light on your sleeping figure. Morpheus watched as Astra lowered his muzzle to you, his warm breath brushing against your hand.

"Her presence in the Dreaming... it's unlike anything I've witnessed since you created me," he said. "She enhances everything here. Every corner of this realm, every dream, every creation you've ever made… they all respond to her, as if she breathes life into them."

Morpheus's eyes flickered contemplatively as he listened, attention drawn to you again. You stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously reached for the Dreamstone around your neck.

"She is no ordinary mortal," Astra continued, taking a step closer to Morpheus. "A unique aura emanates from her, and I believe it is her love for you. It permeates everything she touches."

Morpheus inclined his head in agreement. Since your arrival, the Dreaming's familiar landscapes had undergone a subtle transformation. Initially, the change was so slight that it escaped his notice, but as you rested, your body radiated an unmistakable energy, enveloping both him and Astra in its protective shield.

"I have noticed it," Morpheus replied, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "She is unlike any being I have encountered in all my existence."

Astra took another step, his glassy eyes softening as he looked back at you. "She is bound to this realm in ways that neither you nor I may fully comprehend yet."

Morpheus's fingers clenched briefly before relaxing. "She is leaving soon," he answered quietly, more to himself than to Astra. "But the Dreaming will always be a part of her. And she of it."

"Some bonds transcend severance, impervious to time or the barriers between worlds."

His emotions were conflicted—saddened by your impending departure, yet astounded by the impact you'd had on him and his domain. You had wielded the extraordinary ability to shape not only his heart, but the intrinsic character of the Dreaming along with it. How could someone as precious as you love him so deeply and unconditionally?

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented revelation. For the first time in eons, he grasped the significance of sharing the Dreaming with another being, of unveiling his true self and all he possessed. This revelation surpassed any insight he'd gained from past loves, be it Nada, Alianora, or Calliope.

His mistakes were indelible, and their consequences irreparable. But your gentleness was immeasurable and irreplaceable, your wisdom a fount from which even Morpheus himself could learn. You were extraordinary, delicate yet powerful, so intensely significant to him that Morpheus understood he had never loved anyone as strongly as he had fallen for you.

Losing you would threaten to leave an unfathomable void in his existence, potentially shattering him beyond imagination. Your absence would leave him utterly bereft.

"While she resides with us, my Lord, this realm thrives in ways even you did not foresee.”

Morpheus could only concur with his own creation's perceptive observation. He vowed to cherish every moment of your time together, knowing that your impact on his world, and his heart, would endure long after your return to your world.

For as long as eternity would allow him to adore you.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 22 ->

[book-place]

In Your Eyes

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Parings: The Corinthian x child reader

Request: Can you do a Corinthian x reader? I am absolutely obsessed with the series now. And when the reader finds out about Corinthian's eyes, she doesnt care (still quite shocked tho) because she loves him

Request by: @popfishjr

*not my gif*

Summary: When you asked about his glasses, he prepared himself for the worst

A/N: This was really short and rushed 😭😭 Sorry

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“It’s time for bed, little one.” The Corinthians teasing voice echoed off the walls as he crept closer and closer to your hiding place.

A giggle erupted through you, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to tried and silence it and not give away your hiding place.

He grinned, staring at the closest door he knew you were hiding behind, “Hmm,” He made as sound as if he were thinking, “I wonder where she could be?”

This time, a full blown laugh raked through your body at your adopted fathers inability to find your top tier hiding place.

Without a warning, the door flew open and you let out a scream, jumping backwards and letting your back hit the wall.

The Corinthian chuckled, reaching out and scooping you up in his arms, “I said it was time for bed.” He playfully poked you in the tummy and you squealed.

“Not tired!” You protested, trying to dodge his fingers.

“No,” He tutted, “I think you’re actually very tired, you just don’t know it.”

A frown tugged on your lips as you pondered this, “Why don’t I know?”

He suppressed a grin, “Well, that’s for you to figure out, little one.”

You were silent as he trekked the two of you through your apartment before dumping you on the bed and emitting some giggles from you once more.

“Okay, little one.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple, “Good night.”

He was just about to turn on his heel and exit when your small voice called out, catching his attention, “Daddy?” He turned with raised eyebrows, “Why do you wear glasses?”

The man stilled, every nerve in his body tensing up at the innocent question, suddenly becoming aware of the slight weight that the black shades held against his ears and nose.

“Why do you ask?” He asked after a painful moment of silence that consisted of you looking up at him with those wide, doe eyes of yours.

You crawled over your sheets and reached as high as you could while sitting on your knees, trying to take them off, “You always wear them.” You said matter-of-factly.

He forced a smile, gently pushing your hands away, “Well, it’s probably for the best, if I’m being honest.”

You dropped back down with a pout, crossing your arms and staring up at your father with wide, puppy dog eyes that you both knew he couldn’t resist. It was his fatal flaw, if he was being completely honest.

A sigh escaped from him as he braced himself for the worst, slowly as possible moving his hand up and removing his glasses, waiting for the screaming and crying to begin.

His eyes quickly averted before they could analyze your surly horror filled expression, but when no sound was emitted from you, he slowly peeled his gaze off the ground before looking over at you.

The look on your face was the exact opposite of what he expected and feared. You were sitting with your mouth open and eyes wide as you stared up at him in complete awe.

Without hesitating, you once again crawled along the bed and stood up, reaching your hands to lazily grab the sides of his face and pull him down to your height.

The Corinthian was in such shock that he didn’t even know how to react, just allowed you to do as you wished.

Quickly, you gave him two sloppy kisses, one on each cheek, before happily saying, “Cool, daddy.”

Then, you flopped back on the bed and crawled under your warm covers, falling asleep before your head even hit the pillow.

He was still standing there, frozen, long after your breathing evened out.

You weren’t scared. You didn’t run away screaming. You still loved him. Nothing changed.

A ghost smile slowly made its way onto his face as he bent down to kiss your forehead. He really couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.

The Endless 🌌- @popfishjr

[writing-fanics]

morpheus x reader

[ summary: y/n leaves their newborn’s room for a moment when the Corinthian enters tormenting the newborn. ]

[y/n] smiled as they looked down at the bundle of joy. swaddle up in blankets, eyes closed and sound asleep. they watched as their baby slept watching the rhythmic rise and fall of their little chest.

“my little Idony, shall the sandman bring you beautiful dreams.” they whispered planting a gently kiss on their baby’s head. smiling softly walking toward the door and leaving the room, for a moment to retrieve something for brier and morpheus’ bedchambers.

“aw, look at you.” Corinthian cooed looking down over the crib. a mischievous grin grew across his face. Idony stirred in her sleep whimpering from the nightmare.

“ah are you having a nightmare?” he asked her cries getting louder. as she moved in her blanket. she then opened her eyes and the Corinthian revealed his teeth for eyes.

scaring Idony causing her to burst into tears. [y/n] rushed into the room hearing their babies cries.

“oh you bloody! get out of my child’s room now!” y/n shouted, rushing over towards Idony holding her close to their chest. soothing their infant.

Idony’s cries eventually were heard from Morpheus who’s eyes immediately furrowed, on Corinthian.

“Corinthian.” Morpheus said coldly looking at his nightmare. oh how he wanted so badly to uncreate his nightmare. he’d been disrespecting him and [y/n] and now scaring their newborn.

“ah, I was just having fun my lord.” Corinthian says smiling looking toward Idony.

“I only wanted to see the princess.” he says.

“hold your tongue Corinthian.”

“you stay away from my family. you as much touch a hair on my daughter or my spouse. go near my daughter again I’ll uncreate you.” morpheus says his eyes glaring daggers at the nightmare.

after sending the Corinthian away. morpheus walked towards [y/n] who’s still holding a crying Idony. [y/n] with bags under their eyes tries too soothe the baby to no avail.

“Idony it’s okay shhh I’m here.” they whispered, but nothing is helping.

Morpheus takes Idony from [y/n]’s arms, and does something he hasn’t done in awhile. he sings a song he hasn’t sung in years. ever since his first son Orpheus was a baby to help him sleep. now he’s singing it for his daughter many many years later.

it seems to work like magic, Idony. Falling asleep moments later her little head leaning against her fathers chest. he places a kiss on her forehead and places her back into her crib.

“I’ll always protect you my little one.” he says smiling while watching her sleep in her crib.