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rainbowmoonstonestories · 24 days ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 23

Chapters: 23/? 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!

As your physical illness persisted, Morpheus's absence from both your dreams and waking life only intensified your distress. Your biggest fear transformed into reality, with even more revelations coming to the surface.

Author's note: I had hoped to finish this chapter before the holidays, but I found myself unable to due to multiple reasons.

I suggest having tissues ready, as this update is quite emotional. While everything will be explained and resolved soon enough, this particular event, though heartbreaking, is necessary. Please bear with me! You'll learn more about the Reader and her "situation" as new details unfold, too.

Also, like I previously mentioned, I'm currently rewriting the old chapters to improve their quality and align them with my current writing style. It may take me a while.

The Dreaming felt strangely eerie and lacked its usual brightness, with rain pouring down as heavily as it had when Morpheus was exiled, sealed away from his realm and unable to control it.

It was disturbing and unnatural. With Morpheus missing for days and a mysterious illness causing your emotions to fluctuate wildly, a growing sense of unease consumed your thoughts day after day.

Although your new creative work assignment provided a much-needed distraction, you couldn't shake the gnawing fear churning in your stomach for multiple reasons. While Ella bounced around the office, checking social media and celebrating each new product request and purchase notification with impromptu dance moves, you felt completely disconnected from the office's upbeat atmosphere.

Upon receiving an invitation to model for Corbyn&Jones' latest jewelry collection, her infectious enthusiasm compelled acceptance. Through professional makeup artistry and a proper smile, you were confident in your ability to present a polished appearance despite your fatigue.

While the campaign achieved significant market success and engagement, you found yourself experiencing an unexpected sense of detachment from the accomplishment. Despite recognizing the need to schedule a consultation with Doctor Mills, you continued to postpone the appointment, using professional commitments as justification for the delay.

In truth, you were simply afraid to confront your deepest worries becoming reality.

"I don't want to alarm you, but if you experience stomach problems that last longer than five days, you should let me know right away,” he had warned you during a visit. “With your family history, we can't be too careful."

While your symptoms weren't as severe as your father's had been, the combination of eating difficulties, persistent nausea, and constant exhaustion was deeply concerning. The Dreamstone adorning your neck was intended to provide protection, but you questioned whether its safeguarding properties extended only to external forces, leaving you vulnerable to whatever internal affliction might be manifesting.

You needed Morpheus as much as you needed air to breathe, yet for some reason, he had never felt so far away.

You tried to rationalize his absence, telling yourself it wasn't serious. After all, Dream of the Endless was a powerful being who bore the weight of everyone's wellbeing on his shoulders. Though you longed to have him by your side, you understood his duties took precedence over everything else—perhaps even over his love for you.

You did the best you could to maintain a positive outlook, yet an undeniable sense of foreboding permeated your consciousness. The sensation came both physically and psychologically, particularly evident in the unsettling echoes that resonated through the forested landscapes of your dreams.

The Dreaming lay in turmoil, its mysterious affliction baffling you.

One night, you stood in a vast, barren field beneath a sky that was neither day nor night, just a faint, muted gray. The air hung stifling and oppressive, carrying only a dark silence broken by distant echoes that sounded like a mournful lament. When you turned toward the sound, the horizon stretched endlessly before you, offering no hint of its source.

Around you, the Dreaming existed in fragments and disrepair. The once-vivid flora had withered to mere shadows, while familiar places—your favorite glade and the garden where you and Morpheus had walked—flickered like dying embers, fading in and out of existence. Though you heard the distant sound of hooves, as if Astra were trying to reach you, the creature stayed hidden from view.

A faint light pierced the gloom like a dying star. You felt drawn to it, a tiny spark of hope against the crushing darkness. With trembling fingers outstretched, you whispered into the void: "Morpheus, please come to me!"

But no answer came. The dream dissolved completely, leaving you to wake in your bed with stinging eyes and a hollowness gnawing inside, the echo of your voice calling his name still lingering in the air.

What in the world was going on?

The library was still, its vast expanse of bookshelves and rolling ladders bathed in soft, melancholic light. At her desk, Lucienne meticulously cataloged a newly arrived tome, her brow furrowed with concern as she reflected of the realm's troubled state.

Outside, a haunting symphony of rain and thunder filled the air. The Dreaming had grown restless, its usual vibrancy dulled and its stability wavering.

The silence shattered as Matthew swooped in, his wings beating frantically and his demeanor uncharacteristically tense. He perched on the edge of Lucienne's desk, shifting nervously before fixing her with concern.

“So, uuhh” he began, his voice low and insistent. “Do you know what’s going on with the boss? He’s been quite... off.”

Lucienne paused, her quill hovering mid-air. “Off?”

"Yeah, you know—gloomy, silent. More than usual," Matthew elaborated. "I mean, he's not exactly Mr. Sunshine on a good day, but this? This is different. Stuff's weird and unstable, like it's feeding off his bad mood.”

Lucienne sighed deeply, setting her quill down. "I've noticed. Lord Morpheus has been unusually withdrawn. He either sends me back to the library or deliberately changes the subject whenever I try to speak with him."

Matthew ruffled his feathers, hopping closer. “Yeah, well, that’s not helping anyone. The Dreaming’s a mess, again. There are storms brewing in places that were peaceful a week ago. Some areas are just... disappearing, like they don’t know whether they should exist or not. And that howling? Yeah, Not creepy at all..."

Lucienne’s eyes darkened, the lines of her face deepening. “The howling...” she murmured. “It’s grief. Pain. And it seems to be coming from him, though he would never admit it.”

Matthew tilted his head. “But why? For what? Did something happen?”

“I suspect it may have something to do with her,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“Her? You mean Y/N?”

“He hasn’t mentioned her name, but I’ve seen the signs. His avoidance, the strain in his bearing… she hasn't been seen around here at all lately."

Matthew let out a low whistle. “Man, the boss sure knows how to complicate things. So, what do we do? Just let him stew in his misery? If they've had a fight, they'll likely kiss and make up later. I mean, couples go through rough patches all the time.”

Lucienne adjusted her glasses, her expression growing grave. "I don't know. I sense this has to do with something else, something far more troubling."

Matthew tilted his head thoughtfully. “Troubling how?”

"I've yet to determine the cause. Perhaps you could prove useful," Lucienne suggested.

"Wait, me?"

“You have a way of getting through to him,” she said with a faint smile. “You’re blunt, unorthodox. You can say what I cannot.”

Matthew flapped his wings, exhaling a resigned sigh. “Great. No pressure, huh? Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if he turns me into a puff of smoke, it’s on you.”

Lucienne’s expression softened, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Matthew."

As the raven disappeared into the shadows, caught between determination and dread, Lucienne sank back in her chair with a weary sigh. She could only hope that whatever darkness had seized their lord wasn't beyond the comfort of those who cherished him.

Throughout her extensive tenure as Morpheus’ librarian, she had never observed him in such a deep state of distress. She had been witness to countless moments across the spectrum of his experiences, from triumph to tribulation. The good, the bad, and yes, the utterly dramatic.

However, this situation was unprecedented in its severity and implications. Neither they nor Morpheus himself could grasp just how complex it truly was.

Morpheus sat on his throne, rigid and unmoving, his eyes locked intently on the Book of Paradoxes in his lap. The black leather tome caught the faint light, its obsidian and gold letters writhing across the pages as if alive. His fingers rested motionless on its surface as his mind wandered through a maze of thoughts. He had been consulting the book incessantly, hoping for a new interpretation that never emerged. No matter how the words shifted and molded themselves, their significance remained unchanged.

Avoiding your presence in his realm at night and ignoring your calls was the most excruciating act Morpheus had ever undertaken. His actions were driven solely by a desire to ensure your safety, though he meticulously examined the book's cryptic passages in search of alternative solutions that might alter the predicted course of events.

As time progressed, the possibility of a positive outcome grew increasingly remote, challenging what little hope he had left.

Matthew silently flew in, landing on the throne's armrest. He shuffled his wings, watching nervously as the Dream Lord closed the book and tucked it away. Morpheus appeared silent, offering no acknowledgment of the raven's arrival.

“Uh, hey, boss,” Matthew began, his tone hushed. “You’ve been in here for a while. Just thought I’d check in, y’know? See how you’re holding up.”

Morpheus was as still as marble, his darkened eyes wandering on some distant point, as though the raven's words drifted past him like echoes in darkness.

Matthew cleared his throat and continued. “So... Lucienne’s been worried. And, uh, not to snitch or anything, but the Dreaming’s been acting kinda weird too. You don’t exactly look like you’re winning ‘Most Cheerful Dream Lord of the Year,’ either.”

Morpheus’ fingers idly traced the throne's armrests with a touch both reverent and laden with frustration.

Matthew tentatively shifted closer. “Alright, look. I know something’s eating at you. Is it... her? Did you two have a fight or something?”

At the mention of you, Morpheus' hands froze. His head turned slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to reveal he had been listening all along. “I have not quarreled with her,” he said finally, his voice low and clipped.

“You didn’t? Well, that’s good I suppose,” Matthew replied hastily. "You see, Lucienne's been wondering why Y/N hasn't visited the castle these days. We were thinking that maybe—"

“Matthew,” he interrupted. “You will refrain from speaking of her.”

Matthew flinched but held firm, maintaining his position beside the Dream Lord's arm. “Boss, I’m just trying to help here. I mean, this isn’t like you. Even for you. If nothing's wrong between you two, then what is happening here?"

Morpheus rose from his throne with fluid grace, his towering form casting a shadow over the raven. His movements were deliberate and restrained, as if containing a tempest within.

“You presume much,” he said, his deep voice edged with frost. “The matters of my heart are mine alone to bear. And the Dreaming is my responsibility, not yours.” He exhaled a slow, deep breath that resonated with his inner torment. “There are matters that cannot be ignored.”

Matthew cocked his head, his curiosity piqued. “Matters, huh? Are you talking about that book you were reading just now?”

Morpheus' jaw tightened at the question, but he didn’t answer.

“Look, I’m not trying to stick my beak where it doesn’t belong. But whatever’s going on, you’re not exactly handling it great. The Dreaming’s feeling it, and so are the ones who care about you.”

Morpheus's expression flickered, a glimpse of guilt crossing his features momentarily. "That is not your concern," he stated sternly.

“Not my concern?” Matthew repeated, flapping his wings in agitation. “Boss, come on! You think she’s not gonna notice something’s wrong? You think Lucienne and I aren’t gonna notice? You’re shutting everyone out, and it’s not working.”

The Endless’ eyes closed briefly, as if shielding himself from the raven's words. Once more, his tone sliced through the mounting disquiet like a blade of ice. “Leave it, Matthew.”

Torn between pressing further and respecting the Dream Lord's boundaries, the raven huffed, lowering his head with a defeated slump of his shoulders. “Alright, fine,” he muttered. “But for what it’s worth, boss, you’re not doing her—or yourself—any favors by staying in here and brooding. Just think about that, okay?”

Morpheus's gaze drifted into the distance as Matthew departed, the fluttering of his wings echoing softly through the vast emptiness of the throne room, leaving behind a weight of unspoken truths and unresolved pain.

Your throat burned as you hunched over the toilet, retching up what little dinner you'd managed to eat again. The nausea had grown more persistent, becoming so severe that you struggled to hide your condition even at work. With your shortened shifts and frequent naps during quiet moments at the studio, Ella assumed your body was breaking down from physical and mental exhaustion—a result of your Florida trip and the heavy workload you'd taken on without pause.

Out of guilt, she suggested taking a few days off to recover, but you promptly refused. Having too much downtime would only let your mind wander to uncomfortable thoughts, exacerbating symptoms and impeding your ability to cope effectively.

Multiple times you'd started to reach out to Doctor Mills, drafting emails you never sent and almost calling but finding yourself unable to follow through. Keeping busy with your demanding work schedule meant you could focus on surviving each day without falling into the cycle of anxiety and overthinking.

Making matters more difficult, Morpheus had vanished entirely from both your dreams and waking life. The abandonment stung as deeply as any mortal lover's silent withdrawal, and the Dreaming's deteriorating state only amplified your growing distress.

After the bout of vomiting subsided, you splashed cold water on your face and trudged back to bed. The nausea had barely let up, and an odd pressure weighed heavily in your stomach. Your abdomen had become noticeably distended recently, and it was clear that prolonging this for another week would be inadvisable. The situation warranted a proper medical evaluation, and you resolved to schedule an appointment with your healthcare provider sooner rather than later.

Perhaps it was nothing, just a food intolerance acting up, or a particularly nasty virus that had weakened your immune system. Or more likely it was simply your body's response to mounting stress, a combination of your grueling workdays and Morpheus' unexplained silence.

The symptoms fluctuated in intensity, ranging from mild discomfort to severe episodes that necessitated immediate trips to the bathroom. In those brief intervals of physical relief when eating and resting became manageable, your mind would invariably wander to other pressing concerns.

Morpheus had consistently demonstrated the depth and sincerity of his affection. His declarations of love were always accompanied by meaningful actions, from welcoming you into his realm to crafting extraordinary gifts that showcased his devotion. His sudden withdrawal seemed entirely incongruous with his character, and considering the negative conditions within the Dreaming, it wasn’t difficult to understand that a matter of significant importance demanded his attention.

Still, you wished he would communicate openly about his troubles, even if you couldn't directly assist with the situation. At minimum, you wanted to offer emotional support and help lighten his burden as you had during the Vortex crisis.

Perhaps this time, Morpheus was deliberately keeping you at a distance, all for your own protection. At the very least, even a short word would have been welcome.

"So," Matthew said, clicking his beak. "What's the plan?"

"I don't know," Lucienne said. "Whatever is troubling Lord Morpheus, it must be something deeply personal for him to maintain such silence."

"Yes, but how much longer will he shut himself away?"

"I cannot say. After all, this is Lord Morpheus we speak of."

The Dreaming's sky had taken on an unsettling shade of gray, neither the soft twilight of contentment nor the ominous darkness of unrest. The realm's usual rhythm was disrupted, driving even Mervyn the Pumpkinhead up the metaphorical wall.

With a huff, he stomped his way to the library, his boots thundering against the marble floor while his carved pumpkin face twisted into a permanent scowl. He shoved the library doors open with excessive force, sending echoes through the vast expanse of shelves.

Lucienne looked up from her desk, maintaining her calm professionalism as her eyebrows arched slightly at Mervyn's dramatic entrance. “Ah, Mervyn. What brings you here?”

“What brings me here?” he repeated, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Lemme tell ya what brings me here. The Dreaming's gone completely bonkers for days now. DAYS! The sky's throwin' a temper tantrum, can't make up its mind whether to drizzle, shine, or go full tornado on us. And the ground? It's wobblier than a drunk gargoyle on rollerskates! But here's the real kicker; them trees have lost their marbles completely. One of the wise guys actually tried to snatch my rake this mornin'! Can you believe the nerve?"

Lucienne’s lips twitched in amusement. “The realm is reflective of the Dream Lord’s current emotional state.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mervyn grumbled, crossing his arms. "Now we're all stuck in this screwy limbo situation here. Look, I ain't dense - he got troubles up to his eyeballs. But for cryin' out loud, the rest of us are tryin' to do our jobs in this mess! Can you go knock some sense into him or somethin'?"

Lucienne straightened in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “The Dream Lord has much to contemplate, Mervyn. Matters of great importance weigh heavily on his mind.”

"Heh, not that I haven't tried already," Matthew interjected.

Mervyn rolled his empty eyes. "Can't his lordship deal with it without makin' the whole joint go haywire? I swear, I'm this close to hangin' up my rake and startin' a nice, normal garden topside. Least there I won't have to deal with plants that think they're critics!"

Lucienne stifled a chuckle. “You must remember that the Dreaming and its ruler are intrinsically linked. His moods influence the realm just as the realm influences him.”

"Sheesh, ain't it obvious? What's got his royal nibs all twisted up like a pretzel, anyway? Another one of them Endless family squabbles? Or maybe some mortal mess he's got himself tangled in?"

"I am not certain," she replied.

"Whatever. This whole mess needs fixin', and pronto."

While reviewing the Dreaming record, Lucienne paused mid-nod as something significant caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she studied the page intently, adjusting her spectacles as she stood to examine the text more closely.

"Uh, Lucienne? Everything okay over there?"

Lucienne glanced between Matthew and Mervyn with a grave expression before returning her attention to the volume. “Oh dear.”

"Aw geez, what's got ya spooked now, Luce?"

“I wonder if this is part of the reason,” she murmured.

Matthew hopped closer. "Mind filling us in?"

"A new heartbeat has appeared in the Dreaming," she explained. "It has just been added to the records."

"A new what?"

"Eh? Some kinda fresh face round these parts?"

Lucienne's expression grew solemn as she carefully considered her response. "Not exactly."

"Now you really got me on the edge of my perch here," Matthew quipped.

Lucienne folded her hands on the desk as she sat again. "A new heartbeat signifies the creation of life, fresh energy stirring within the Dreaming."

"Okay. So who's the mystery guest showing up?"

"Not a guest," she clarified. "A newly formed being. One that, as it happens, is directly connected to Y/N."

Mervyn's eye sockets expanded dramatically, his carved expression showing comical astonishment.

Matthew, for his part, stared blankly, still oblivious to the revelation's significance. "You lost me here. What's this gotta do with Y/N?"

Lucienne exchanged a knowing glance with Mervyn before addressing Matthew's query with a soft smile.

The janitor shifted his weight, placing his gloved hands on his bony hips and turning his pumpkin head toward the raven with mild exasperation. "Hey, Luce. Do you want me to spell it out for birdie over here, or should you do the honors?"

The environment around you was bathed in varying shades of purple, from soft lilac to deep violet, creating an ethereal cosmic display. Countless stars and miniature galaxies performed an elegant celestial dance, while a gentle breeze caressed your hair as you ventured forward.

This sanctuary provided a stark contrast to the declining condition of the Dreaming you had grown accustomed to witnessing these recent nights. Though your perception remained slightly hazy, your consciousness sharpened upon detecting a recognizable silhouette in the distance.

Morpheus stood motionless in the purple mist, his commanding presence unmistakable as his dark hair swayed gently in the wind. A wave of relief flooded through you at the sight of him, and you quickened your pace, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your features.

"I've been so worried about you," you breathed, halting in front of him.

As you embraced him, gently kissing his cheek, you noticed an immediate change in his mannerisms. Morpheus remained unresponsive, his arms still at his sides, his entire form becoming rigid and distant.

Stepping back to examine his countenance, you observed the evident tension in his epression as your hands moved from his shoulders to rest against his chest. "Morpheus? What's wrong?"

His eyes flicked down to the starlit ground, shimmering faintly, before meeting yours again with unsettling gravitas.

“We must end this.”

His words seemed to fade into the horizon, becoming nearly imperceptible. Time appeared to pause as your mind struggled to process the weight of his statement.

"End what?" you whispered, your smile fading.

Morpheus swallowed heavily, his lips twitching. "Our... entanglement. It must cease."

You regarded the Lord of Dreams with an unwavering gaze, your expression becoming neutral. His words seemed to shatter the very foundations of your world, the impact reverberating through your being like breaking glass.

"What…?"

“Y/N… I am sorry.”

"I don't understand," you said, your voice turning to ice. "Are you actually ending our relationship?"

Your fingers slipped from his coat, falling limply like dead weight.

"You cannot be with me," he continued. "I will not make the same mistake again."

An incredulous chuckle escaped you, your head shaking as if to erase his declaration. "Wait, this makes no sense to me. We've been through this conversation before."

"It is not merely about fear. What I have discovered, what I now know... it is something I simply cannot allow to happen."

"And what is supposed to happen?" Your voice cut like a knife, yet beneath its sharpness trembled unmistakable pain.

"Y/N, if I remain by your side, your future will be destroyed."

"Says who?" you demanded.

“No matter.”

"Yes, Morpheus, it absolutely matters. I deserve an explanation."

He faltered, his eyes reddening as he blinked rapidly. "Such a fate has been foretold in the Book of Paradoxes, a tome as old as existence itself."

“Hold on, a book?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself protectively, shrinking inward. "So you're breaking up with me because of a book?"

"This is far more than mere words on paper. It is an ancient prophecy, a mystical artifact whose power and purpose transcends even my understanding."

You gave a sardonic nod, pressing your lips together in a bitter smile. "Ah, I see. So you're simply accepting this fate? You won't even let me make my own choice?"

"Not if it means every moment you spend in my presence brings you one step closer to your own destruction."

"Destruction? Morpheus, this is absurd. We've been together for months now, and all I've seen in my life is growth."

"I will not allow another tragedy like Nada to unfold. The burden of what I’ve done... it weighs heavily upon me still."

Your lower lip trembled, but you stood firm. "I am not Nada."

"No, but my duties as Dream of the Endless must come first. The price we would both pay is far too steep."

"In other words, I am a distraction you can't permit yourself to have."

"That is not what I mean. You must understand."

“Well, I don’t.”

Your respiration quickened as an acute sensation of emotional distress surfaced, perceptible even within the confines of the dreamscape.

"There must be something we can do. Instead of pushing me away, let me help you find a solution."

"This is not something within your power to alter. Despite your remarkable strength, your mortal nature remains an inescapable truth."

"Ah, of course. Let's resort to the 'you're just a mortal' excuse."

Morpheus bowed his head, his face pained, yet stood firm despite your earnest protestations.

"I am doing this to keep you safe, to give you a chance at the life you deserve. Even if you cannot accept it now."

"Oh, that's bullshit, Morpheus!"

Your voice reverberated through the space, bouncing off the floating cosmos.

"Why won't you give me any credit? Instead of acting rashly over something you admit you don't fully understand, you could trust in me—in us. We could do this together as partners, seek help. Stop shouldering everything alone."

"It is precisely because we do not understand its nature that I cannot risk having you near it."

You scoffed. "Oh, because that wretched book is going to devour me whole the moment I touch it, right?"

"This is not a matter of levity," he stated, his gravelly voice carrying unmistakable sternness.

"What am I supposed to say? That I should just quietly accept this without question? Being like 'Oh sure, I love you, but it's perfectly fine to pretend you never existed and go back to my normal life in the Waking World. See you never'?"

A solitary tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.

"Tell me, was it all a lie? Everything you did for me, everything you told me, your feelings for me... was any of it real?"

Morpheus stepped forward. "All of it was real. It remains so."

"Then reconsider," you pleaded. "Don't do this to us. Don't throw everything away over a prophecy."

"My love... know that I shall not stop my search for answers. But what lies ahead may prove far more dire than what we face now. This quest may take an indefinite amount of time. And that is not something I can ask you to sacrifice whilst you await my return."

More tears now flowed freely down your face as your composure crumbled, your breathing becoming increasingly ragged. "But this is my decision to make, Morpheus, not yours."

"I must forbid it. It is for your salvation. This is absolute."

You pressed your fingers to your temples, scanning the surroundings with increasing agitation as you ran your hand through your hair.

"This has to be a nightmare. It must be."

“Y/N—”

"No. None of this is happening, and you're not truly here."

“Y/N, listen to me.”

You shook your head vigorously, retreating as tremors wracked your frame. "I refuse. I need this to end."

With slow, measured motion, Morpheus extended his right hand, dissipating the cosmic panorama before you. The illusory galaxy dissolved to reveal the true scene beneath; a bleak forest stretching into the distance, its withered trees and parched grass crowned by an ominous, thunder-laden sky.

"Do you understand why the Dreaming appears this way?" He asked. "As it is an extension of my very being, every withered leaf, every raging tempest... it reflects the essence of what I am. What you see is but a reflection of the chaos that dwells within."

A shiver ran through you as lightning crashed overhead.

"I take no pleasure in this. But it must be done, nonetheless."

"That's according to you," you corrected bitterly. "It doesn't need to be this way."

"It goes beyond the boundaries of you and me. It surpasses my very identity," he declared with resonating finality. "If I must choose between our individual happiness, if sacrificing my love for you ensures your future remains intact, then I shall bear this burden."

A strangled cry escaped your lips. "How could you possibly think I would accept a future without you in it?!"

"I cannot ask you to keep your waking life on hold for my sake, Y/N. Not when I am uncertain if my return shall ever come to pass."

"So that's it? You're simply abandoning me?"

"I am protecting you," he asserted, his deep, resonant voice carrying both authority and melancholy.

Your exasperation mounted. “Protecting me from what??!?!”

"From any darkness my role as Dream King would inevitably cast upon your existence."

You released a choked, desperate laugh. "How could something as beautiful as you, as your realm, and as what you represent, possibly be destructive to my life??"

"That is something I do not wish to discover," he answered solemnly. "Y/N... you are truly extraordinary. Your radiant spirit illuminates the paths of those around you. Your creative mind shapes dreams with a brilliance that rivals my own. I cannot... I will not be the one to extinguish that flame."

You shook your head, again and again, in vehement denial. “Stop it.”

“Please—”

"No!" The words erupted from you in a piercing tone. "You made me a promise that you would never break my heart. You gave me your word."

Morpheus maintained an impassive expression, though beneath his carefully constructed facade, you sensed the anguish he sought to conceal.

"Yes, I did," he acknowledged with resignation. "I am truly sorry, Y/N,"

Raw emotions overwhelmed you—anger, disappointment, and a blinding sense of betrayal. Unable to contain your fury, you lurched forward and struck his chest repeatedly. Your fists pounded against him, yet he remained unmoved. He grasped your elbows with gentle restraint, softly speaking your name in an attempt to calm you.

“You promised!” You cried out. “You lied to me!”

Your strength gradually ebbed away, leaving you collapsed against him in uncontrollable sobs, your forehead resting against his collarbones. Your trembling fingers clutched the fabric of his coat as tears dampened his shirt.

“Please… don’t do this…” You sank to your knees before him, your hands still grasping desperately at his robes. “Don’t le…ave… m..e…”

"I cannot choose otherwise."

“Morpheus, pl..e..ase. Stay… with me….”

"The Dreaming will always be accessible to you. My castle doors shall remain open, that you may seek guidance with Lucienne among her tomes. Your journey of exploration, of learning, of dreaming... can continue unabated."

The material of his garment slipped from between your fingers as he withdrew, his black silhouette receding with each step.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

A sharp inhalation escaped you as your head snapped upward, your eyes widening with despair. “Morpheus, wai—”

“This dream is over.”

You jolted awake, your breath lodged in your throat as your chest tightened agonizingly. Drenched in cold sweat, with your hair clinging to your skin and your stomach roiling violently, you stumbled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom.

The emotional toll of Morpheus's devastating abandonment had your body purging both the physical and psychological torment that ravaged you, retching and wailing as grief consumed every fiber of your being, mixing with your bile.

You hoped that he would appear to assure you it was nothing more than a cruel nightmare conjured by your subconscious mind. But all you could see was the toilet bowl as you clung to it helplessly, collapsing onto the floor while tears streamed down your face until the break of dawn.

Morpheus stared at the vacant space where your presence had been moments before. As your form dissipated into particles of light, his carefully maintained stoic mask finally shattered. Slowly, he descended to one knee, his hand instinctively clutching the fabric above his chest where an immortal heart bore mortal suffering. His tears fell hot and searing, corroding the soil around him like molten iron.

He was overcome by an unprecedented pain unlike anything he had ever known. Though his long existence had been marked by numerous losses that had rendered him reserved and guarded, your presence had transformed him, awakening emotions he thought forever dormant.

Never before had someone so earnestly beseeched him to stay and to love. Though he ached to hold you as you wept in front of him, Morpheus knew that even the slightest gesture toward you would have melted his resolve entirely.

Nevertheless, the heartbreak caused by his decision left an irreparable void within his eternal essence. And perhaps, the Dreaming itself would never be the same.

Daylight streamed through the window, illuminating your disheveled form on the bed, surrounded by disarrayed sheets. The dampness of your tear-soaked pillow pressed against your cheek as you lay paralyzed, eyes fixed vacantly on the curtains. In a state of dissociation, you found yourself incapable of stirring. The extended hours spent on the bathroom floor had left your body throbbing, while your eyes remained swollen and tearful.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, but you couldn’t summon the energy to check it. Time stretched endlessly as you lay there, until catching sight of the shell from your dreams triggered an uncontrollable urge to scream.

With a rapid spurt, you finally pushed yourself in a sitting position to retrieve it, its color and vividness turning bland. You shoved it into the drawer without thinking, slamming it shut to hide it from view.

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks as you picked up your phone, unlocking the screen between shaky breaths. The display showed three missed calls and an unread text message, all from an anxious Ella. The clock indicated it was well past the start of the business day, meaning you were significantly late for work.

With a heavy exhale, you composed a brief response, informing her that your current state would prevent you from performing your professional duties for the foreseeable future. Since joining the Corbyn&Jones team, you had never taken a sick day unless absolutely necessary. You prided yourself on working diligently even when feeling unwell, always delivering exceptional results.

Now you were reduced to a complete wreck, barely able to stand long enough for unwanted trips to the bathroom. Perhaps some rest would help your body recover, but you doubted time could ever fully mend your emotional cracks.

Expressing relief, Ella responded with understanding. She granted you the necessary break to recuperate from your illness and exhaustion, apologizing profusely for the heavy workload. You committed to maintaining your responsibilities remotely when your condition permitted, though it made even basic mobility an impossible task to accomplish at the moment.

Despite believing you had no more tears to spill, new drops sprang to your eyes at the thought of Morpheus throughout the day. Although you understood his reasoning and concerns, you couldn't bring yourself to accept or forgive the choice he made. He had professed his devotion in countless ways, filling your dreams and waking days with magic. Could your relationship truly be as doomed as his with Nada? Were you fated to endure suffering and ruin, condemned to face divine retribution if your love had persisted?

The more you dwelt on the breakup, the more you wished to sink into an endless sleep, never to wake. From your current position, you began to resonate with Lyta's motives more than ever before, as if a part of your soul had been completely torn away.

The prospect of moving forward seemed insurmountable, given how deeply intertwined your life had become with his presence.

Later that evening, another incoming call notification displayed Hob's contact information. Your finger lingered over it to respond, but as a sudden burst of tears brought on uncontrollable hiccups, you let the call go unanswered.

He had already offered extensive assistance over the past couple of years. You felt reluctant to weigh him down with additional concerns or seek further help, as his long-standing friendship with Morpheus spanning several centuries could complicate matters even more.

And so, you resorted to ignoring his subsequent texts, compelling yourself to eat and shower until another night approached. The prospect of visiting the Dreaming filled you with dread, yet you couldn't completely abandon the possibility that Morpheus would reconsider his decision and propose a more viable resolution.

After all, hope dies last.

You traversed a solitary path through the darkness, each footstep emanating a soft luminescence that traced your journey across the desolate expanse. Barefoot, you moved silently through the gloom, the flowing white gown trailing gracefully across scattered leaves. You proceeded with purposeful steps through the unknown, drawn forward by an inexplicable force that beckoned your assistance.

Though conflicting emotions of confusion and despair bore upon your soul, each radiant step dispersed the encroaching shadows, suggesting an innate resilience to mend what had been fractured.

“ʸ/ₙ…”

A distorted yet familiar voice called out your name, though its origin was indistinct and elusive. You waited attentively, yet only silence permeated the air.

Then, once again, the voice returned, its presence growing clearer and more proximate.

"Y/N..."

"Who's there?" you called out, walking without pause, quickening your pace.

“Y/N!!”

Astra suddenly appeared from the blackness ahead, his posture unsteady and frail. His once shining fur was now dull and matted, his antlers brittle, his elegant frame emaciated as it revealed prominent bones beneath his skin. His eyes, once filled with starlight, had taken on an unsettling glassy, grey pallor that suggested possible blindness.

“What… Astra…?”

“Y/N… you’re here…”

His legs gave way, causing him to crumpled onto the ground."At last... I found you."

“Astra!”

Kneeling down, you cradled his face in your hands and gently lifted his heavy muzzle, resting his head in your lap. "What happened?!"

"It's Lord Morpheus," he whispered weakly. "The Dreaming is responding to what lies within him."

"How is this possible? Can't he simply stop it?"

"Ah, my dear... it is far more complicated than that."

Gently, your fingers traced along his cheek, beneath his eyes, and down the elegant line of his neck.

"His choice to leave you has left him wounded. The pain reverberates through the endless halls of dreams. Even through my essence."

"But why, Astra? I told him not to do this. I begged him."

"He wants your happiness and safety above all else. More than anything he has ever crafted, Perhaps even more than the realm itself."

You lifted him to your chest, cradling his upper body in your arms.

"In the end, you were the loveliest dream of all. To him, and to all who exist in the Dreaming."

You released a choked sob, swaying gently back and forth. "Why must he be so stubborn? My poor Astra... I'm so sorry."

A comforting warmth spread through your chest as you embraced your familiar, holding him protectively against you with unwavering care. "What will become of you…?"

"If this continues... everything I am, everything I ever was... could vanish forever."

"No!" you exclaimed in sheer terror. "Astra, please! You can’t leave me too!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. If anything, you're the one I wished would stay with me... just for a little while longer."

You instinctively held him more tightly, pressing your lips against the crown of his head in a protective gesture. Your warmth coursed through your limbs and down your spine, enveloping both of you in a bright sphere of golden light.

Unbeknownst to you, as your eyes remained closed, glowing threads flowed from your form, intricately weaving through the surrounding environment and seamlessly merging with Astra's being. The energy pulsated rhythmically, suffusing the familiar with restorative power that slowly reversed the deterioration. Astra's appearance transformed as vitality returned; his fur gaining an ethereal brilliance, his antlers casting majestic particles, and his eyes rekindling with crystalline stars.

The ambient light intensified in clarity, transmuting the surrounding darkness into an expansive, natural nocturnal splendor. Golden strands streamed outward from your body, interweaving with the fabric of the Dreaming itself, methodically restoring its deteriorated structure.

Astra gracefully rose from your embrace, regaining his posture before you. As you gazed upward, momentarily dazed by the spectacular display of light, you beheld his magnificent form fully rejuvenated, back to its former glory.

"Wait, what... I thought..."

"Y/N, I never knew you possessed such power. I am deeply grateful."

As he bowed, you blinked in dizziness. "Power? Astra, what do you mean?"

He tilted his head. "Wait, so you didn't do this intentionally?"

"No. I have no idea what just happened."

The familiar's muzzle curved into a gentle smile. "Take a look around."

Upon surveying the environment, you witnessed a remarkable mutation of the dreamscape. The once dreary path had evolved into an elegant thoroughfare, bordered by verdant grass and voluminous moonflowers. Delicate fireflies drifted gracefully near your face, their mystical whispers carrying on gentle currents of air, drawn to your presence like moths to a flame.

The celestial panorama above was breathtaking, an intricate tapestry of bright stars stretching across the infinite dark blue sky. Each constellation pulsed with lively vitality, their patterns seeming to dance and shift in the vast cosmic scenery.

Additionally, tendrils of luminous force circled your sitting form, reminiscent of shimmering ribbons. They coalesced into your hands, imbuing them with an intense glow.

Trembling, you turned your palms in front of you, examining them in incredulity. "Astra... what is happening to me...?"

"Do you truly not know?"

You frantically shook your hands as if trying to switch them off, but the light continued to pulse around them. "I bloody don’t! And frankly, I'm more than a little worried right now. How can I make this stop?"

"This is a dream, nothing is actually going to harm you."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

In time, the light generating from your skin diminished until it completely dissipated, leaving no visible trace of the phenomenon. Despite your racing thoughts and attempts to rationalize the experience, you were reminded that the nature of dreams often defies conventional explanation.

"Are you alright?" Astra asked softly, leaning forward to brush his nose against your chin.

"You're asking about me? Astra, you were practically dying in my arms moments ago."

"Well, technically I'm a dream, so I can't exactly die in the way mortals experience death."

"Still, you were just saying you would disappear."

Astra's head bobbed thoughtfully. "I wasn't expecting this either. But Y/N, whatever you did has restored both this part of the Dreaming and myself to our former state."

"I didn't do anything."

"Perhaps not consciously, but the power definitely came from you."

"Maybe it was the Dreamstone," you concluded. "After all, it contains Morpheus' energy."

"No, it wasn't the Dreamstone, I don’t think" he said resolutely. "It was coming from you—of that I am certain."

You rose to your feet and clasped your hands over your abdomen. "I'm truly relieved you're okay, but I have to admit... I've been feeling strange for a while now."

“Strange, you say?”

With calculated precision, Astra studied you intently, taking measured steps backward to analyze the atmosphere. His heightened senses became evident as his ears detected subtle changes, his penetrating gaze intensifying with each careful assessment. He proceeded to conduct a methodical examination, circling around you while his antlers created streams of light in his path.

Upon completing his examination, Astra halted in front of you, his dark, starry eyes fixating on your midsection. He emanated an aura of profound understanding, and when he spoke, his voice carried a distinct tone of reverence.

"Y/N, you... you are..."

"I am what...?"

"Oh... I see. He hasn't figured it out yet. And apparently, neither have you."

"Astra, what is this all about?" you inquired impatiently.

"You must leave now, to prevent any further... well, light shows. I will maintain vigilant oversight of his wellbeing in your absence."

"Astra, please! I don't understand any of this."

"You will, sooner than you think. Deep inside, I think you already know."

Before you could formulate a response, your voice dissipated into silence. The dream began to shift and distort, merging inexplicably with elements from your waking reality that seemed paradoxically out of place.

"Don't lose hope, Y/N. You are stronger than you realize. Through you, I am reborn."

“As——tra..”

He had already vanished into the distance, receding as he traversed the rolling hills and disappearing into the dense foliage. Your attempts to call after him resulted in nothing more than an inaudible faint breath, as your feet slowly sank into a sparkling pool of liquid gold.

In an instant, consciousness returned, and you found yourself in the familiar stillness of your bedroom.

As time wore on, your heartache deepened, and your physical condition oscillated between periods of relative wellness and severe misery.

Astra no longer visited your dreams, which had grown lifeless and barren. His words had awakened something in the recesses of your mind that you couldn't comprehend, but all you could focus on was Morpheus and your deep struggle without him in your life.

For most of the day, you curled up in a ball on your couch, letting your tears flow freely as you listlessly surfed through TV channels without really wanting to watch anything. Your cognitive clarity was significantly impaired, making focused work on your laptop particularly arduous. You found yourself experiencing frequent periods of mental fog, moving through the house in a daze, almost on autopilot.

You were barely holding on, eating and sleeping only the minimum necessary, finding even simple tasks like grocery shopping insurmountable without breaking down. The sight of happy couples on the street would leave you weeping unrestrained, with everything reminding you of Morpheus—the paths you'd walked together, the park where he'd shown you your mother's memory through your father's dream, and even your apartment, that still held his scent in every corner.

You strove to maintain regular communication with Ella and your father, but your interactions remained quite superficial as you carefully avoided discussing Morpheus. The prospect of verbalizing the separation seemed too daunting to bear, as though doing so would solidify the reality of the situation.

Outwardly, you laughed, joked, and put on a brave face to fake normalcy. But internally, you were screaming, fighting against invisible barriers, clutching at your hair in raw agony.

Meanwhile, contact with Hob was entirely equal to zero. You distanced yourself from his messages and calls, recognizing that his connection to Morpheus would made your conversations particularly difficult at this time. You knew it was unkind to someone you considered a close confidant, yet you required solitude to process this transition and come to terms with Morpheus' departure.

He had become completely absent, staying unreachable despite your attempts to get in touch with him. Your appeals to reestablish dialogue for the mutual benefit of both parties and the realm's wellbeing had gone unheeded by the Endless, leaving you feeling like you were talking to a wall.

Though hope still lived in your heart, you felt it slowly slipping away.

Inevitably, demonstrating steadfast persistence and recognizing the ineffectiveness of digital correspondence, Hob resorted to making an in-person visit to your residence. When he arrived at your door, frantically ringing and knocking, you knew you could no longer avoid the inevitable explanation.

The last thing you desired was to cause undue concern that might prompt him to contact law enforcement for a welfare check. Reluctantly, you opened the door to find Hob in visible agitation, breathing heavily and looking notably disheveled.

"Shit, I've been going mad with worry!"

You managed a weak smile, silently apologizing.

"What's goin' on here? Been trying to reach you for bloody ages!"

"I'm sorry Hob, I've been sick to the bone,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

"You're looking rather peaky, Shortcake. Still got stomach troubles then?"

“Sort of,” you replied. As you closed the door and wrapped your arms around your chest, you fought to hold back fresh tears that threatened to fall.

"This has been dragging on for quite a stretch now, innit?"

You responded with an affirmative hum, watching as he took off his coat and hung it on the back of a dining chair.

"I was half convinced I'd find you lying dead somewhere. You can't just disappear on me like that."

“Sorry.”

"Have you seen a proper doctor about this yet?”

“Not yet.”

“When's the last time you had a decent meal? You're looking white as a ghost."

"I had lunch today.”

He settled onto the couch with a weary exhale, running his fingers through his hair while you remained stationary.

"I swear. I was about to storm your workplace and demand answers. Would it have killed you to send a quick message? Just a 'piss off Hob, I need space' would've done it if you weren't up for tal—"

His speech halted upon observing your condition—tears cascaded silently down your face, your form quivering with barely contained emotion.

In an instant, he leapt to his feet and rushed to your side, grasping your upper arms and rubbing them soothingly. "Hey! You're not crying because of me, are you? Have I said something wrong?"

Turning your head from side to side, you burst into even harder weeping.

"Then what is it? Come on, this can't all be about some stomach trouble."

You couldn't formulate a coherent sentence, your knees growing wobbly.

"Listen love, if I came across a bit too strong there, I apologize."

“It’s n…ot t..ha…t.”

"Just breathe now. Take your time."

You gasped for air, feeling it being cut off from your lungs. His proximity had you breaking down, erasing what little resistance you had left.

"He’s gone, Hob," you choked out, fingers clutching his shirt. "It's over between us."

“What…?”

"He left me."

Hob's eyes opened impossibly wide, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “He did what?”

His tone became more intense as he held your shoulders, studying your face with incredulity.

"What do you mean?! You two were mad for each other!"

"It wasn't enough. Not for him."

"What's gotten into that idiot?!"

Finally, your resolve evaporated like dust in the wind. You sank to the floor as every ounce of strength completely drained from your legs, with Hob kneeling beside you, holding you steady.

“Y/N!!”

You wept more intensely than ever before, venting out all your accumulated pain, anger, and utter devastation. Your heart was shrinking and decaying, as though there was a barbed wire built around it.

“I don’t know what to do,” you lamented through shuddering breaths. “I can’t live without him, Hob. I just can’t.”

Hob pulled you into a strong embrace, offering solace against his shoulder, and smoothing your hair with gentle strokes.

"I spend every moment crying. Everything I do reminds me of how much I miss him."

He acknowledged your pain, placing a reassuring kiss on your head.

"I feel like all my dreams have been destroyed. Everything has lost its meaning. I need him! I need him so much I can barely breathe!"

"Let it all out, Shortcake," he told you consolingly, "and when you're ready, tell me everything from the beginning."

You wailed, releasing the raw heartache you had inside, all that was left to give before becoming absolutely depleted.

"This is bullshit.”

"That's exactly what I told him," you commented, sipping the hot tea he had prepared in an attempt to settle your nerves.

"Listen, I've lived through the witch hunts and all that rubbish with prophecies and whatnot,” he stated. “And let me tell you, every single one of these so-called magic books turned out to be complete bollocks."

"I believe this one is different though."

"Different how?"

You gazed into your mug, your tired reflection rippling in the tea's surface. "You've known him for centuries. His powers are real, not fabricated by cultists."

"And how exactly does that prove this book is legit?"

"We both know he wouldn't mistake a fake object for a genuine dangerous artifact. He's not naïve."

Hob frowned pensively. "Right then, let's say this book is exactly what he claims, though you said yourself he doesn’t even know what it means."

“Yes.”

"Maybe we're not seeing the whole picture here. Could be he's got it all wrong, or hell, maybe there's a way to bypass this wretched prophecy."

With a bitter chuckle, you retorted, "It's not that simple, Hob. He said he needs time to understand it fully, and he wasn't willing to take the risk."

“You are worth every risk, Shortcake,” he clarified. "Look, I get it - we all want to protect the ones we love. But pushing you away like that? After I told him to look after you properly? That's really getting on my tits.”

“Wait, you did?”

"Back at the New Inn that day. And I'll tell you what, every time I tried to get a word in with him, his eyes were glued to you like a magnet."

The memory of that day was still vivid in your mind—how he joined you for a walk through Richmond Green before accompanying you home, where you shared an intimate afternoon together filled with tender kisses and ardent passion. You could still feel his touch, his lips on your skin, his playful teasing in your ear... his love.

Nothing more than bittersweet remnants that belonged to the past.

Your bottom lip quivered as grief welled up inside you. "I suppose none of that matters anymore."

"Don't you dare give up. Not yet."

You shrugged helplessly. "What can I do? He refuses to talk to me."

"If I get my hands on him, I swear to God—"

"Don't, please. It won't accomplish anything. And I don't want to be the reason your friendship falls apart."

Hob unleashed an angry growl. "Well, if he thinks I'm gonna sit down and have a drink with him in 100 years like nothing's happened, he can sod right off."

You gave him a faint smile, setting down your mug as another wave of nausea made the room spin through your blurred vision. "I don't have many options left. And I feel like I'm about to be sick."

"Shit, you've gone all pale again, love."

"I'm so sorry, Hob,” you said apologetically, gripping your stomach as you suppressed a surge of queasiness. “You should head home. I promise I'll respond to your texts and calls from now on."

With a determined look, he rose from the couch, strode over to his jacket, and quickly slipped it on. However, instead of saying goodbye and leaving, he dawdled there. With one hand on his hip and the other tapping his chin, he was seemingly formulating a plan of his own.

“Hob?”

"Right then, I'm going to get my things and bring 'em straight back here," he declared with conviction.

You stared blankly. "Eh?"

"I'm not about to bugger off and leave you on your own, not in this state. I'll stick around as long as you need, yeah? That's what friends are for."

"Hob, really, that's not nece—"

"Not budging on this one. End of discussion."

With a defeated sigh, you slumped back into the couch cushions. "What about your job? Your life? Are you seriously going to throw it all out for me?"

"Oh, come on! I'm not moving in permanently or anything. I've survived 700 years of work, think I can manage a short break."

"And your students? Didn't you mention having a new lesson ready for them? You spent so many sleepless nights preparing it. They need you, Hob."

"Right now you need me more than they do, and what I don't teach them tomorrow can wait for another day.”

“Hob, seriousl—”

“Just hang tight. I'll be back before you can say 'Wandering Jew’.”

With your protests dying on your lips, Hob dashed out the door with hurried footsteps, his sneakers echoing on the concrete outside, followed by the roar of his car engine springing to life.

Exhausted beyond measure, you sat motionless as the sound of his vehicle faded into the distance. His self-deprecating historical reference elicited an unexpected reaction, sparking a small grin that quickly erupted into surprising laughter. It was uncontrolled and erratic, exploding in loud, hysterical mirth.

Unfortunately, that fleeting enjoyment rapidly turned into another torrent of tears as your emotions swung wildly, forcing you to leap up and dash to the bathroom with your hand clasped against your mouth.

True to his word, Hob returned an hour later, carrying a backpack containing essential items including clothing and personal care products. Although having a houseguest was quite an adjustment, he assured you he would maintain appropriate boundaries and respect your need for personal and professional space.

During dinner, he provided welcome companionship and ensured proper nutrition by preparing a balanced, stomach-friendly meal for you. As your symptoms had temporarily abated, you were able to spend a peaceful evening watching classic films together, offering lighthearted commentary throughout the viewings. It proved therapeutic, helping you take your mind off things, at least temporarily.

For his overnight accommodation, Hob settled onto the living room couch, which was furnished with comfortable bedding including a plush pillow and warm blanket. The sofa's generous dimensions allowed him to rest comfortably, and as you passed by the living room on your way to bed, his peaceful slumber was evident from the gentle sound of his breathing.

Like a sudden tide, all your negative thoughts and feelings came rushing back in the stillness of the night, causing your heart to ache with a ravenous need for Morpheus's voice and the endless depths of his eyes. You turned to your side, holding back sobs once again as a bone-crushing burnout pulled your eyelids shut.

For a moment, you drifted into a void, your mind weaving together phantom voices and shapeless forms. You surrendered to the sensation, floating into an entirely different world as you crossed through a portal of light that solidified into physical form. You traversed a crystalline bridge, enveloped by clouds soft as cotton and stars that twinkled with life.

Thus commenced your descent into the realm of dreams, as tendrils of golden energy drew you into its embrace.

Towering rows of books and winding spiral staircases stretched before you, with precious artifacts meticulously displayed throughout the library's corners. You moved through the lengthy corridors with purpose, finding no volumes that captured your attention enough to warrant closer examination. You wandered without direction, guided only by the echoing sounds of turning pages and books being returned to their shelves.

Navigating through the passageways, you methodically traced your fingers across the book spines while proceeding deeper into the library. After what seemed an interminable journey, you detected a presence mere steps ahead.

Lucienne was organizing volumes in their designated locations with her characteristic precision and attention to detail, without her customary purple jacket, wearing only a long-sleeved white shirt and suspenders.

Upon seeing her, you were hit by that persistent sense of despondency you found impossible to overcome. Hastening your pace, you moved toward her with urgency, feeling the scent of old books in the air that stirred your tresses.

When she noticed your approach, her face brightened with a radiant smile. "Ah, I was wondering when you might visit. It's quite pleasant to see you here. May I be of any assistance—"

Without waiting for her to finish speaking, you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around her upper frame, causing the librarian to lose balance. The book she was holding fell from her grasp as she steadied herself, returning your gesture with measured restraint.

"My word" she remarked with surprise.

You swallowed, pressing your nose against her shoulder. "I missed you, Lucienne. I missed all of this."

Noting the tremor in your voice, she separated from you with concern. “Are you all right?”

"I wouldn't say that, no," you responded with a wan smile.

Lucienne regarded you with understanding, gently guiding you forward. "Come, let us have a seat."

Leading you with a soft touch on your back, she escorted you to her workspace, where numerous documents and open tomes were arranged across the desk. She gestured for you to take her armchair, its plush cushioning providing immediate alleviation, cradling you like silk.

"Shall I fetch you some tea?” She asked. “It would be my pleasure to serve you a cup."

"Thanks, Lucienne, but I don't feel like having anything right now. How are things holding up here?"

"I am managing to keep things orderly, though it has been rather demanding as of late."

"I expected as much," you said quietly, listening to the rain pattering against the library windows. "And... is there anything else?"

"I am uncertain what additional information you might be seeking. Perhaps you could elaborate?"

You moistened your lips, smoothing the fabric of your gown. "I mean... is he doing okay?"

"Oh... you are referring to Lord Morpheus, I presume?"

“Yes.”

"I am afraid His Lordship has been rather preoccupied these past few days," she replied with careful diplomacy. "Though I had rather hoped you might possess some insight that has eluded me?"

“Insight?”

"He appears to be in quite an... unusual mood, if I may be permitted to make such an observation."

Your gaze darted anxiously between her eyes. "Wait—you don't know?"

"Ah. I see there is something of significance that has not been brought to my attention."

You took a deep breath before speaking, as the words felt impossibly heavy to formulate. "Lucienne, we're not together anymore."

Even saying it aloud was despicable. The very thought was unfathomable, a reality your mind simply refused to accept as a solid fact.

Her composed, tight smile melted into an expression of disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

"We broke up last week. I thought you were informed."

"I’m rather confused," she expressed, carefully removing her spectacles. "Not to intrude upon personal matters, but… may I ask what circumstances brought about this decision?"

"If I'm being honest, I don't really know myself. He was the one who ended things.”

“Why would he do that?”

“All he mentioned was something called the 'Book of Paradoxes.'"

“The Book of Paradoxes…?”

You nodded. "Do you know anything about it?"

“I am quite familiar with the text in question, yes. I’ve never had the opportunity to examine it with my own eyes, but it is a most peculiar tome of considerable antiquity,” she began. “Its nature is unclear, perpetually changing its location throughout various planes of existence. The contents are said to reveal most unfortunate destinies to those who chance upon its pages, though its prophecies are invariably encoded in the most abstruse and enigmatic ways. They are written in riddles."

“I see.”

"So… has Lord Morpheus truly come to possess this particular volume?"

Your eyes moved to one of her documents, though you weren't truly reading it. "I suppose so. He said it revealed things about me... about the consequences that would unfold if our relationship continued. I thought he found it here, in the library."

"If such a book did manifest within these walls, I have no record nor recollection of its presence."

"And he never mentioned it to you?"

"Not at all. He has withdrawn entirely from his usual duties, and the Dreaming appears to be reflecting his troubled state. Your revelation does provide some clarity regarding these circumstances, at least."

Morpheus had become entirely reclusive, declining any form of interaction with those around him. The consequences of his sacrifice appeared increasingly severe, negatively impacting not only your wellbeing, but also his own stability and the integrity of the Dreaming itself.

"I had harbored suspicions regarding your involvement, but I was entirely unaware of these developments."

"Lucienne, I know you're busy, but... could you help me out with this?"

Her smile returned. "Rest assured, I shall investigate this matter thoroughly."

Her readiness to look into the book’s nature and prophetic warnings rekindled a glimmer of hope, offering potential understanding into its mysteries and the possibility of persuading Morpheus to reconsider his decision.

"Thank you, Lucienne. It means more than you know."

With a light fluttering of wings, Matthew landed on the table, oblivious to the preceding conversation. His legs nearly slipped on the pile of papers, but he regained his footing with casual grace. "Yo, Y/N! What's crackin'?"

"Matthew! I'm so happy to see you, buddy!"

He hopped closer, allowing you to gently stroke his feathered head with your fingernails. "Hey, looks like I gotta say congrats and all that jazz!"

You blinked in bewilderment. "Congratulations for what?"

Your unexpected query seemed to startle him, and his dark, glassy eyes widened as he quickly glanced at Lucienne. “"Uhhh... whoops?"

"Matthew," Lucienne's calm yet authoritative reproach cut through the air like the sharp edges of the papers on her desk.

"Look, I’m sorry. I thought she knew!"

“Knew what, exactly?”

"Oh, uh�� nevermind! Forget I said anything. Just a bird bein' a birdbrain over here!"

When you turned to Lucienne, you took notice of her discomfort as she attempted—unsuccessfully—to redirect the conversation while avoiding eye contact. "Perhaps you would be interested in perusing some works of fantasy? We have recently acquired several rather intriguing tales."

"Lucienne?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. "What aren't you telling me?"

Exhaling in resignation and whispering "Thanks, Matthew" under her breath, she folded her hands together in front of her. "As you know, my duties include maintaining records concerning both the inhabitants of the Dreaming and any perceptible alterations within the realm."

"So?" you pressed, inching closer with anticipation.

She deliberated, selecting her response with care. "While you do not technically qualify as an inhabitant of the Dreaming in the traditional sense, your consistent presence here has resulted in a rather fascinating phenomenon; the gradual integration of your energetic signature into the fabric of the Dreaming itself."

Still not satisfied, you persisted, “Okay. And?”

"I… this is not the most appropriate way in which you should be discovering such delicate information."

"Please, Luce!" you cried out. "At this point, I could expect anything."

Positioning herself at the edge of the table adjacent to your seat, she gazed at you with uncertainty, weighing the gravity of what she was about to disclose. "Are you really sure you wish to receive this from me, rather than through more... appropriate channels?"

You gave a small laugh. "I have no idea what this is about, much less what these 'appropriate channels' might be."

"I mean, since we're spillin' the beans anyway, might as well tell her, right?"

Lucienne drew a deep breath, her expression contemplative. "I suppose there is little alternative." She faltered, composing herself with restraint before meeting your eyes. "The records have indicated the presence of a new heartbeat within the register. It appears there is... a new life, one that belongs to you."

The implications of her revelation eluded your comprehension as you processed her words, your dreaming haziness only serving to compound your mental fog. "A new heartbeat? A new life? What exactly does this have to do with… me…?"

Then, the realization hit you like a bolt of electricity, paralyzing your thoughts and stealing your voice away.

"Y/N, you... you are..."

"I am what...?"

"Oh... I see. He hasn't figured it out yet. And apparently, neither have you."

"Have you perhaps noticed any peculiar changes or symptoms?" She asked.

"I... I did, actually," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "But, Lucienne, that's impossible. This must be some mistake."

"I can assure you that my records are quite reliable."

An incredulous chuckle escaped you. "Okay, but... that's absurd. There's no way I could be pregnant.”

"Are you totally sure about that?" Matthew tilted his head. "Like... you know... one hundred percent absolutely positively sure?"

"I'm always careful," you declared firmly. "I've been on protection for years. I've never..."

You had followed a consistent regimen of contraceptive medication without interruption. The routine had become second nature, with the added benefit of regulating hormonal balance and menstrual malaise. It had been absolutely essential, with one of the highest effectiveness rates among comparable products.

You had never missed a dose or taken a break from it, not even a single time as prescribed.

..Except…

After reflection, there had been a significant lapse.

"I… I wasn't asleep. When Morpheus invited me here, I was awake—physically present. And I didn't have my medication with me. I couldn't take it."

"Well, damn..." Matthew stammered. "So this whole thing was an accident, huh? Talk about a plot twist!"

How could you have been so careless, never questioning the consequences of your actions? The temporal displacement had completely disrupted your biological rhythms, and between the Vortex incidents, the events at Cape Kennedy, and your work responsibilities, the thought hadn't even crossed your mind.

Everything suddenly clicked into place: the recurring dreams of a newborn, the persistent physical symptoms plaguing you, and even Astra's mysterious words all pointed to one undeniable conclusion.

"Astra, please! I don't understand any of this."

"You will, sooner than you think. Deep inside, I think you already know."

"I haven’t informed him yet" Lucienne stated. "But I’m afraid I won’t be able to maintain discretion about this indefinitely. It is only a matter of time before Lord Morpheus discovers the truth on his own."

“I… I understand…”

Shock paralyzed you in the armchair as your breathing grew labored. The space around you began to blur and alter, becoming increasingly surreal and hazy.

"...Y/N..."

A faraway voice called your name from somewhere beyond.

"Y/N... Wa...ke.....u..p...!"

"Uhm… looks like she’s about to go."

"Yes, I can see that."

As you began to fade, suspended between the two dimensions, you addressed Lucienne with a final, desperate request before consciousness pulled you back to the realm of the waking. "Please, find that book, Luce!" you shouted. "Don't leave him alone!"

With a graceful inclination of her head and a reassuring smile that conveyed both understanding and commitment, Lucienne silently affirmed her intentions as you vanished in a brilliant flash of light, leaving behind a sparkling trail of stardust.

"Aaand she's outta here,” Matthew squawked.

"Shit, Y/N! wake up already!"

Awareness gradually returned, your eyes stinging as you awakened to find Hob's face hovering above you. His features were illuminated by the luminescence permeating the room, highlighted by a soft gilt contour.

Strange, you thought. You clearly remembered turning off the nightstand lamp.

“Hob…? What are you doing here?”

As you fully readjusted, darkness reclaimed the room, with only ambient light from the outside world filtering through the curtains.

"Fuck, sweetheart. What in God's name was that?! You frightened me to death! I thought you were about to burst into flames!"

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up through momentary grogginess. "What are you talking about? Did you have a nightmare?"

“Are you joking? You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed?”

Stifling a yawn, you looked at him through drowsy eyes. "Noticed what?"

His expression betrayed a deep apprehension, staring at you intently, his breathing noticeably rapid and uneven. "Y/N... you were lit up like a bloody Christmas tree!"

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 Chapter 23 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 24 (coming soon) ->

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #sandman #sandman fanfic #sandman x reader

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winterchimez · 2 years ago

Text

Lip Sync | Ji Changmin

pairing: ex Changmin x f!reader

genre: angst, suggestive

warnings: influence of alcohol, making out scenes, mentions of s*x, bad breakup, cheating, unrequited love (in some way)

word count: 2,751

a/n: so.... i can explain 🤡 what made me wrote this oneshot on a whim was because of Changmin's whisper from the song itself 🫠 (delusional to the max tbh 🙃) but in all honesty this is my favourite track from their latest jp album, and i knew i had to write a fic about it!! i just hope i managed to execute it well according to the lyrics (yall i tried my best ><) feedback would be much appreciated! 🩵

You watched as the clock continued to tick as it reached closer to the hour you were going to be done with this dreaded lecture you were having.

3… 2… and finally… 1.

The clock strikes 14:00, and everyone seemingly grabbed the belongings that they had obviously packed way beforehand and rushed out of the lecture hall. You, on the other hand, were in no rush to head to your next destination, which was your accommodations.

As you took your time packing away your things into your backpack, your phone lights up and produces a ding sound, indicating that you have received a notification. You immediately took up your phone that was lying front screen down on the table, and read the notification mentally.

Hey Y/N, remember this time during 2022?

Snapchat. Always with the monthly notifications that you’ve never bothered clicking into to see what it was because your college life was never entertaining in the slightest bit. You were a lone girl, and you’ve always preferred staying in the university’s library till late at night and then heading back to the comforts of your accommodations. You were never an outgoing person, so attending social parties was definitely out of the question.

However, for some reason, your brain decides to do the opposite today, as you clicked on the notification, with the thought of just having a quick glance at whatever Snapchat wanted to remind you about.

Now, you wished you could’ve turned back time and that you’d never clicked into the application in the first place.

A picture appeared on the exact same date from a year ago, depicting you with your former boyfriend, Ji Changmin.

Honestly, the Y/N from your freshmen year would’ve laughed if she had known that you and the f*ckboy of your university were actually a thing for a good solid 2 years. Ji Changmin was infamous, to say the least. Not only was he a good dancer that has basically contributed to winning several trophies from various dance competitions that were held annually throughout the state, but he was also the face of the university.

Many students and lecturers admired the way he was. The manner in which he presented himself, those doe-like eyes and how he’s able to put on this adorable yet captivating look that just makes everyone swoon over him? He was a winner for sure.

Everyone could’ve sworn he was definitely up for the job to take on the role of the president of the student council, given the good grades that he has worked so hard to maintain throughout the years. But the lad always turned the offer down, saying how there were better students up for the role, especially his close bud Kevin or Sangyeon.

In reality though, what really stood out the most among the students was that he was the infamous f*ckboy in university. Oh, how many girls have given up anything to be able to spend a day with him, or even doing the deed with the man himself.

You have seen how he was always with another girl almost every other day, and being the goody two shoes that you were, you decided that he was someone you’d rather jump off a cliff than associate with.

That was until a frat party that happened 2 years ago when your assignment mate at the time, Eric, was basically dragging everyone he knew to come to join him. And of course, he had to bring his newly met friend along too because according to him, the more the merrier.

You came up with so many excuses that night, saying how you were sick or how you had way too many assignments due the next day. But that did not stop the male from actually showing up at your doorstep and basically dragging you into his car, not even letting you have a say in all of this.

So there you were, at your first frat party which you obviously did not enjoy the slightest bit. So many times you’ve tried to avoid everyone like the plague, retreating to the kitchen most of the time to be alone while having the least intoxicating drink you could possibly find.

Of course, your demeanour that day stood out entirely from everyone else, and that has piqued the interest of the f*ckboy that was watching you ever since the moment you stepped into the party. He had his eyes on you the whole night, desperately waiting for the right moment to hit on you.

Ji Changmin definitely had to thank the hosts of the party for organizing the infamous beer pong game, for that was when both of you truly came face-to-face with one another. During that time, all of you were split into two different teams, playing the game against each other to see who would win. He was the representative of his team, while you and Eric were the ones for yours.

Apparently, turns out that Eric wasn’t the best at holding his liquor, and he passed out after having 5 shots. Naturally, you had to take on the responsibility of continuing the game.

You wished so badly that you’d said no that time, for you became tipsy, unknowingly chugging down more than 10 shots for basically losing against Changmin’s team that night.

As the game ended and everyone was basically minding their own business throughout the apartment, you quickly excused yourself to the bathrooms and tried to calm your spinning head down.

And there was when Changmin took the chance of visiting you to see with his own eyes, how the girl that has caught his attention throughout the night has become. You were a mess, and that somehow turned the male on even more.

“Please… I don’t want any trouble….” You whimper.

“Funny you say that because you’re clearly enjoying whatever I am doing to you right now.”

Both of your arms were pinned up against the cold bathroom walls above your head, and somehow the male ended up leaving trails of kisses all around your neck, while he shoved his legs right in between yours.

When his lips finally met yours, you seemed to have enjoyed it more than you thought. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but you for sure did not reject that idea and eventually, it turned out to be a steamy make-out session in the bathroom.

Changmin has made out with multiple women before, yet somehow you just felt so different from the rest. The whole experience? The soft whimpers and moans you produced? Oh, he couldn’t tell you how much they sounded so sweet to his ears, and he craved for more.

“I just can’t get enough of you.”

As he began to untie the pretty white lace dress that you were wearing, he couldn’t help but stare at your collarbone as he drops your clothing right onto the ground. He licked his lips, and he couldn’t wait to dwell deeper into his fantasies.

“People say that I tend to go wild and bite when I’m drunk. Don’t worry sweetheart I won’t do that, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

And that was how you ended up with a hickey and a bite mark on your collarbone for a good 2 to 3 weeks. You could only vaguely remember what happened back then, you were too intoxicated to tell from your own perspective. But the male surely did remember every single detail from that session, which was what made him turn his whole interest towards you.

God, he was persistent. He always made the effort to get close to you, while the only thing you wanted was to stay far away from him. But your efforts turned out to be an utter failure most of the time, for he would always be a step ahead of you.

He somehow got your number and began following your social media accounts and leaving comments on almost all of your pictures, texting you almost every single day, up to sending your random snaps where the male just somehow always manages to get good photoshoot-worthy shots. Honestly, at that time you insisted on blocking the male for good until your assignment mate Eric convinces you otherwise.

“Give it a go, expanding your horizons is what you’re supposed to do in university.”

You probably would’ve thought that Eric was insane, but later down the line, you realised that you were the one going insane instead.

Eventually, Changmin decides to get close to you in person, where he’d leave you random post-it notes in your lockers every day and purposely bump into you whenever you both cross paths during lunchtime in the cafeteria. These actions that you once thought to be annoying and intrusive, were slowly turning into ones that you actually enjoyed.

He was goofy and flirty at the same time, which somehow always manages to put a smile on your emotionless face that clearly indicated how exhausted you were from all the lectures you were dealing with on a daily basis. Eventually, you began to enjoy his company, so when he offered to take you out on your first date, how could you possibly say no?

Both of you were head over heels for one another, and eventually, the university labelled you both as the new lovebirds of the season. It wasn’t until the 10th date (at least from what you could remember) that both of you finally decided that you both were to become official.

Of course, it also ended up with having a heated make-out session after having a little too much to drink in his apartment. During that heated moment, Changmin finally took the first step of asking you to be his girlfriend. Being madly in love at that point, you had no reason to say no.

Instead of giving him a direct answer, you immediately gave him a smile and pulled his face down to your lips till both of you were merely inches apart.

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

A bittersweet smile was plastered across your face as you decided to take a seat in your lecture hall. After that Snapchat notification, you unintentionally find yourself to be stalking his Instagram page that you once blocked.

As you tapped into his icon, you began scrolling through his feed while tears started to form in your eyes. You looked through the dozens of pictures that he posted, and you couldn’t help but to reminisce back on the good old days.

And that smile of his.

That smile was something that you’ve grown to become unfamiliar with, it was a thing of the past anyways.

What exactly happened that made you both parted ways? None of you really knew exactly.

As both of you eventually reached your senior year, the number of struggles and burdens that you both had to bear was becoming more and more unbearable, which has led the both of you to spend less time together.

Unfortunately, the struggles were too much to bear for Changmin, and he eventually returned back to his f*ckboy roots, going out and sleeping with a different girl every other day. He did not want you to bear his difficulties while you were already clearly struggling to make ends meet since you provide for yourself, hence he could only vent out his burdens with what he knew best.

You, on the other hand, were heartbroken, to say the least when you found out that he was doing what he used to in the past before establishing a relationship with you. But eventually, you had to accept the hard truth.

At the end of the day, f*ckboys will always be f*ckboys.

As you were lost in your thoughts, your phone suddenly dings which was where you received a new notification, this time from Eric.

Eric ⚾️: Hey, since finals are over care to join a frat party for tonight?

Well, since you had nothing better to do and you were basically depressed all over again after reminiscing back on your ex, you immediately took up the offer, in hopes of going for the sake of taking things off your mind for a bit.

Y/N: Sure, pick me up at 8pm.

As you turned off your phone and the screen goes dark, you were met with the reflection of your poker face.

Everything is going to be alright.

So here you were, back at a frat party. You haven’t been in one since the last where your first encounter with your ex happened 2 years ago.

You just wanted to let things off your mind and basically used this as an excuse to forget about your ex.

Or rather, actually hoping that you’d bump into the male himself. Knowing him, he definitely would not miss out on such an occasion considering his position as the university’s f*ckboy.

As you make your way around the apartment, sure enough, you found the male on one of the couches, with a random girl he has hooked up with for the night.

It didn’t take long for the male to notice your presence, perhaps he could feel that a pair of burning eyes were basically directed towards him for some time now.

Not wanting to create a scene, you retreated back to the kitchen, trying your best to find any liquor you could get. Basically, it was kind of an excuse to keep yourself occupied.

It didn’t take long for the male to present himself in the kitchen, now looking right into your eyes. It has been a good 6 months since you both unofficially ended things, and the tension in the air was awful.

Not even asking about what both parties have been up to, Changmin immediately broke the tension off by posing a question that seemed a little too harsh for your liking. “We… have no feelings anymore, don’t we?”

No Changmin. I still love you. After what you’ve done. But, why can’t I say it out loud?

With the quietness that you returned to him, he slumped his shoulders in defeat and gave this painful smile that you wished you could’ve helped ease.

“Honestly Y/N, you’re too good for me really, for a f*ckboy like me. If there’s someone as similar as you out there, perhaps I could’ve made it work. I guess fate has its plans and you’re just not the right one for me.”

Don’t say that.

As the male walks up closer to you, he returns you with a hug, one that you knew that it meant to be the last farewell.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You returned the male with a hug, and you tried so hard to hold back the tears that were basically going to stream down your face full of makeup that you’d done rather beautifully for the night.

“Don’t worry about me, Changmin. I can never thank you enough for all of the beautiful memories we have made for the past 2 years. Your happiness comes first after all. I’ll be okay.”

As you both broke off the hug, he decides to give you a quick peck on the lips, and oh how you savoured that short-lived moment.

If this is really the last kiss, then let me remember it fully, from the shape of your lips to the scent that you gave.

“You deserve someone better, Y/N.” Changmin pulled away and turned his back as he made his way back into the crowd in the living room.

Right when he was gone, the tears that you’ve tried so hard to hold back finally poured down onto your face, and you desperately tried your very best wiping them away with your bare fingers.

I wanted for us to start all over again so badly. But my ultimate decision was to put up a brave face in front of you.

As you were done wiping the tears away, you made your way towards the exit and decided to take a breather and stroll around the area before heading back to your accommodations on your own before it gets too dark to be dangerous loitering around alone.

With a huff, you looked up into the dark sky and tried your best to put on a sincere smile.

Let’s both give our next love with our future significant other a shot. And may we truly find the right person to spend our lives with.

a/n: i'm actually considering to write a oneshot based on Eyes On Me & Door as well, do let me know if any of you would be interested in reading them ><

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taglist: @deoboyznet @flwoie @hokupi (join my permanent taglist here!)

#deoboyznet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #changmin #ji changmin #changmin x reader #q x reader #changmin imagines #changmin scenarios #the boyz angst #the boyz suggestive #changmin angst #changmin suggestive

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