#t; lucienne

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (1)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 800

WARNINGS: mentions of blood

PART 1 ✧˖°.

"Promise me.”

"Hope I,-"

"Promise Dream."

"I promise." 

The Dream Lord stiffened in his seat as he banished away his thoughts to the darkest chambers of his mind, afraid they would return otherwise. But they still did, every time. The colours swirling in the glass pane that framed his throne cast vibrant hues of light on his poised face, accentuating his features that were sharp enough to cut skin. Promise Dream, the words came back as a whisper, evoking a chill on his neck that travelled through his spine. He shut his eyes willing his mind to quiet, trying to-

"My lord." Lucienne's welcoming voice pulled him to the present. 

"You have a visitor," she announced. 

Morpheus raised an eyebrow imperceptibly at his failure to come up with someone who might visit his realm, especially when he was not expecting anyone. 

"Little brother,”

The voice was accompanied by a woman with black curls and a skin that glowed before the light from the glass pane even touched her. 

"Death," Morpheus stated, bewilderment tucked somewhere in his tone. After all, he hadn't expected to meet her again so soon. 

"How are you?" She asked.

"I am truly well sister, what brings you here?"

Death knew how much truth his ‘truly well’ held but let it pass for the moment. "Lucienne would you please excuse us for a minute?" 

"Ofcourse my lady.” She dipped her head and pursued the command, closing the colossal doors behind her. 

"Something...something has happened.” Death wasted no time in speaking.  

This time Dream did not try to hide the raise in his eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" His calm voice floated through the room. 

"Dream,”

Before she could follow the sentence, turmoil had already begun growing within him, Death was using his name only to soften the blow. 

"It's here."

“Bloody hell, that was one hell of a case!” Charles exclaimed as he shut the door behind you three. 

“Charles you know Edwin suffers from serious ptsd please stop using hell so much around him. It’s not like the British lack in creative curses,” you reprimanded him as you shrugged your jacket off, draping it over the couch. 

“Haha you’re hilarious,” Edwin stated monotonically while Charles started chanting ‘hell’ in the background just to spite the both of you. 

“Thanks hon,” you winked. “And Charles shut that hole up or if the ghost didn’t get you I surely will.”

“Hell hell hell hell hell- ow what was that for?” 

You grinned in delight as your boot contacted with his abdomen, “for being annoying.” 

Another “ow” escaped Charles as he sent glaring looks at you. “And that?” 

“For being you,” you beamed, devoid of both your boots now.

Your smile was quickly wiped off your face as Charles began his incantation right in your face. 

“Get away from me!” You groaned flailing your hands to push his bloodied face away. 

“Okay now I don’t know about you both but I for one am seriously tired after the events that have transpired during the day. So if you will excuse me and please take whatever this is,” Edwin gestured at the both of you with a foul expression, “somewhere else because I need to rest.” 

“Hell hell hell,” Charles resumed being annoying as if nothing had happened. 

“I swear if even a droplet of that ghost’s blood drops on my t-shirt I will fucking kill you. Again.” 

“Hell hell- you love me too much for that-hell hell-”

“Yeah? Go on and find out- NO!” You let out a scream that would have for sure woken up your neighbours if you had any, being a secretive ghost agency and what not. 

“You bitch! That was my favourite t-shirt!” You looked down at the once white fabric now bearing an impression of Charles' right profile in blood.

“I know.” He had the audacity to smirk at that. 

You went for his throat, fully determined to give truth to your previous threat when Edwin pulled you from him. 

"Enough! Both of you!” 

Charles and you stared at each other, your ears still hot with fury.

“Charles go wash up that face please! And Hazel you need sleep, unlike us, so go retire to your bedroom.” 

“Like you can just order us around,” you rolled your eyes. 

But Edwin’s one look in your way got you scrambling for your jacket. 

“Yes boss.” Charles made his way to the bathroom. 

“Goodnight Edwin, fuck you Charles.” And you departed with your wishes.

You sighed as you switched on the lights in your room, and plopped down on the single bed. Not even mustering up the courage to change into your night clothes, you let sleep engulf you and entered the world of dreaming. 

A/N: hello peeps this story is set post the events of the sandman show and i haven’t read the comics so you will have to bear with the inconsistencies and the like. if i mess up real bad pls do let me know<3

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

[the-apocrypha]

It Started With a Whisper Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || 41k || T || 5/6

Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Getting Together, Mother Night’s A+ Parenting, Father Time’s A+ Parenting, Entirely Too Much Chemistry, Both of the Interpersonal and Scientific Sort

Hob, a werewolf from a grotty little estate on the wrong side of London, still can’t quite believe he’s starting his first term at St. Ignatius University. His goals don’t extend very far beyond playing some quality football on the scrim league, and becoming the world’s first (and best) lycan astrophycisist. Then… he meets Dream

“Okay, what gives?” Jo demands, as they exit maths. 

“Nothing,” Hob says. He’s got a slight headache from the lack of sleep and his teeth are a little gross because he’d forgotten to brush them and also he’s spent the entire morning feeling like he’s had something very essential carved out of his chest and shipped a few hundred kilometers away to parts unknown, but other than that—he’s fine. 

He’s perfectly, completely fine. 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Aeternus wasn’t in class this morning,” Jo notes. 

He was not. The back row had been conspicuously absent during their chemistry lecture. 

No Dream, no Matthew, and no Lucienne. 

“Is he sick? Is that it?” 

“I don’t know,” Hob replies, hitching his bag a little higher on his shoulder. “He hasn’t texted.” 

Jo frowns. “Are you two still having your little domestic? I thought you said you were over it.” 

It’s some real personal growth, that Jo’s first suggestion is illness rather than that Dream had probably fucked off to conquer Latvia or perform lewd acts with sacrificial virgins.

Read on AO3

[theaceace]

In the same way that Morpheus creates dreams and nightmares to assist in his function, as life continues to flourish throughout the worlds, Death creates reapers to help her in her function

One of those reapers is Hob Gadling, former human, now technically dead but also kind of immortal while he's got this job, and honestly that's good enough for him. It's not bad work, if you can get it, yknow? He gets to travel! He meets all kinds of interesting people! He's already seen the horrors of plague and battlefields so not much really shocks him (or so he thinks, at first. He's wrong)

So he's still new to the job, he's getting the hang of it he thinks, but then the next soul he goes to help isn't anywhere he's been before. He knows it's the Dreaming - turns out you know a lot of things you didn't expect, once you're dead - but that's never happened to him before

Weird, but oh well. He's got a job to do, and he's going to do it

Death, meanwhile, has a twofold agenda. The first is that she's in a snit with Dream, and doesn't want to see him until they're both ready to, if not apologise, then at least move on from whatever is grinding both of their gears

The second is she wants Hob and Dream to meet, because it will either be catastrophic or the best thing to ever, but either way she will enjoy it very much

Of course, Dream is also in a proper mood with Death, so when this absurdly cheerful new Reaper shows up in the Dreaming to collect a soul, he has to turn up and make the poor guy's (after)life miserable. Hob, who is not a man predisposed to being made miserable (especially not by this beautiful being who may or may not be a concept of the universe personified and also his boss's brother, hard to be sure considering Dream tells him absolutely Nothing), is bright and breezy and the soul in question is much happier going with him than staying in the Dreaming with the very grumpy looking guy in black

Hob is, obviously, enamoured. He takes one look at Dream and is absolutely gone. If he didn't have a soul to guide right there he'd have been on his knees there and then, and he'd worry about the consequences never later. As it is he flirts a bit, grins a lot, and inadvertently insults both Dream and Dream's favourite sister

Dream is obsessed fuming. He isn't going to stop this upstart little reaper from doing his job - he respects Death and her purpose far too much for that - but he is going to turn up and make Hob's job very difficult every time he arrives in the Dreaming

(this is so much better than Death could have ever imagined)

They get into this habit for the next 600 or so years, Hob arrives to find Dream already lurking ominously with the soul, they talk a bit, Hob charms the soul and off they pop to the Sunless Lands - that is, until Hob dares to insinuate that maybe he knows Dream, and maybe Dream even sort of likes coming to see him. Maybe Hob could even come and visit the Dreaming when he hasn't been called there for work!

Honestly, after the tantrum Dream threw about that, Hob's very surprised to be sent to the Dreaming again. Death had been handling the souls there for quite a while now - but there's a world war on, Hob supposes. She probably too busy to go around scooping up the souls that die in the Dreaming

But when Hob arrives, the Dreaming is cold. Quiet. There's no sign of its contrary monarch, and it seems that the colours are all a little dull. Drained, somehow, and lacking vitality

Well, the world has been dreaming of war and pain and death for years, he reasons. That'd be enough to make anyplace a bit less pleasant. And Dream is probably busy, or just miserable with everything that's going on. No problem. Hob will just have to try to mend this bridge next time

Next time comes and next time goes, and still no Dream, and the Dreaming looks even worse. And again, and again, until Hob actually starts to get worried. It isn't until Lucienne - who he has never met, but knows a little bit by reputation - finds him and tells him that no one has seen Dream for years that he realises something may be very, very wrong

He goes to Death to ask her about it, but she only grimaces and says she's not allowed to interfere unless her brother calls for her. Hob thinks that's ridiculous, first of all, but also he isn't bound by these rules! Surely if she just gave him a hint, he could interfere with whatever is going on!

Death doesn't appear to agree, at the time - but then Hob is sent to collect a soul from the Waking for the first time since 1916. He arrives in the basement of Fawney Rig to find the raging soul of Roderick Burgess, a magic circle he can't cross, and Dream of the Endless watching him from a glass prison

The boss wouldn't have sent Hob here if she didn't want him to do something, he's pretty sure. Even if it means abandoning his duties, forcing his way into the Dreaming, leading a charge of dreams and nightmares and dead souls on Fawney Rig

(or maybe Death doesn't send him for Burgess - maybe he remains, in the crumbling realm of dreams, guiding souls and never quite managing to shake the fear that the next hand he will have to take is that of the Dream king himself)

Either way. Reaper Hob, who is still mostly indistinguishable from Human Hob. Who loves (the after)life. Who loves his friend, who just so happens to be the grumpy younger brother of his boss. Who, when the Dreaming is finally restored, simply can't stop himself from flinging himself at Dream

Reaper Hob

[dragon-kazansky]

Veil of the dreamless

Morpheus x Reader

A cursed Morpheus holds your father prisoner when he enters The Dreaming without permission. You, also able to enter the realm, take his place. Now a prionser to the Dream Lord, you do all you can to learn about the curse and hopefully break it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Nine - Sibling rivalry

☆☆☆

Hob leads you to the tavern. He opens the door and lets you go inside first. He keeps a hand on your back, gently guiding you to where he wants you to go. He leads you to the back.

At the very back sits a woman alone. She is sitting facing you, a smile on her face as you approach. You've seen this woman before. She was stood outside the tavern before it was even open before you entered The Dreaming.

"You."

Her smile widens. "Yes."

"This is Death. She is the older sister of our dear Dream." Hob explains.

"You're his sister?"

Death nods her head. "I am. Hob has told me you had taken your father's place in The Dreaming. That was very brave of you. How is my brother?"

"He's... been better. He needs help." You tell her.

"I know, but only you can help him."

"How? He wouldn't tell me how."

"Of course he didn't." Death chuckles. "My brother is an idiot."

"Please." You lean forward. "Tell me how I can help him."

"Do you love him?" She asks.

You state at her. She is waiting for you to answer. Your heart races. You know the answer to that question.

"Yes."

She smiles. "He deserves to be loved. You must tell him before the last petal cracks."

"What?"

"That's how you break the spell."

Hob looks at you gently. "If Morpheus could get someone to love him as he is now, the spell would break. However, all he does is push people away. He sent you back, I believe, because he was falling for you."

"But..."

"I shall send you back to him, but you must he careful. Desire plays games. Do not let your guard down." Death says.

"Okay... Send me back."

☆☆☆

Morpheus sunk down on the stairs to his throne. He buried his face in his claw like hands and sighed quietly.

The silence of the palace was haunting him. When you were here, there was life in these walls. Now that life was gone.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, but they did not belong to Lucienne. He knew her footsteps.

"My my, big brother. How the mighty fall."

Dream lifted his head to see Desire walking toward him. He glared at his sibling. He knew his time was almost up. The rose had barely any petals left. In fact, he was certain it was down to the last one.

"Came to gloat?"

"I won't deny, I'm here to see me win." Desire smiles. "I really got you this time, didn't I? The price is steep."

"Death would be more welcome." Dream says.

"Oh? Shall I request our sister join us then? Will she put you out of your misery?" Desire teases.

"If I ask."

Desire scoffs. "You're no fun like this. Where is the rose? I'd like to see it."

Morpheus sighs and stands. He leads Desire uo to his room where the rose sits. The last petal was already cracked. Once it shattered, that would be it.

"You let them go knowing the curse wouldn't be broken without them?" Desire grins. "Foolish brother."

"I let them go because they deserve better than anything I can give them."

"Fool."

Dream turns to his sibling. "This will be the last game you ever play."

Desire chuckles. "Oh, exciting~"

Morpheus prepares for a fight. If he goes, Desire goes with him.

☆☆☆

You find yourself standing on the bridge to the palace. Death is holding your hand. She has brought you back. Hob promised he would go back to your father and tell him everything.

You let go of Death's hand and ran across the bridge. All you could think about was getting to Morpheus and telling him how you felt. You just hoped you had enough time.

You ran through the grand doors and wondered which way to go. Where was he?

Matthew came flying in and looked relieved to see you. "You're back! Come quick! I think they might kill each other!" He flew up the stairs.

You felt fear set in and chased after him. Matthew led you to Dream's room. It was even messier than before. You eyes catch sight of the rose. The last petal was barely together.

"This way!" Lucienne calls. "Hurry!"

You ran after her, following her up some stairs you hadn't seen before. They go up and up and up. Matthew flies right over you. You reach the top of the tower to find Dream and Desire fighting each other.

"Morpheus!" You gasp.

He turns and looks at you. You shouldn't have called out. Desire takes the chance to push him down to the ground and stand over him.

"No use trying. Your time is nearly up." Desire grins.

"Don't hurt him!" You call out, stepping a little closer.

"Don't!" Morpheus says, looking at you.

"Please don't hurt, Morpheus." You plead.

Desire chuckles. "You came back for him? That's a first." Desire looks back down at their brother. "Your time is up."

"No! I love him!" You yell.

Morpheus looks up at you. His eyes are wide.

Desire looks at you and then down at Dream.

"I love him," you repeat.

The last petal on the rose crumbles. There is nothing left. You look at Morpheus.

Desire watches. Nothing happens. Desire laughs. You feel tears brimming as you rush over to Morpheus. Desire back away and let's you get close.

"You came back?" Morpheus asks softly.

You cradle his face. "I came back to tell you I love you..."

He smiles softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You did nothing wrong. I spoke to my father. I spoke to Hob. I even met your sister. She allowed me to come back here so I could see you again."

Morpheus leans into your touch. "I love you too."

You smile and lean in. He leans in, too. The kiss is the most magical feeling ever. His lips are so soft.

Before you know it, a gust of wind picks up, and Morpheus is surrounded by feathers. You have to let go of him as they explode everywhere. You're left looking a pile of the black feathers.

"Morpheus?"

He sits up. Feather falls away from around him. You can see his face. His actual face. Black fluffy hair sticks up from his head and his bright blue eyes have never been clearer.

"Morpheus." You smile.

He smiles at you.

Desire no longer smiles.

You have done it. You've broken the curse.

Morpheus stands up and reaches for your hands. You take hold of his with a bright smile on your face. He leans in and kisses your forehead softly.

Death enters the tower and looks at Desire. "You should go."

Desire chuckles and then leaves. Maybe next time.

Death turns to her brother and smiles at the sight. He's in love, and someone loves him. She's happy for him. She takes her leave.

Morpheus does not let go of your hand. He never wants to let go again.

☆☆☆

@littleblackcatinwonderland - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @missdreamofendless - @intothesoul -

[solitaryearthperson]

Cross My Heart

Summary: Interrupting your dream, you wonder why Desire doesn’t want you around their brother.

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably a person of color.)

The dream you were having was quite nice. Well not exactly a dream-dream, but more like a peaceful and interesting conversation that you were having with Desire’s brother, Dream. You were sitting at a table in his library, drinking tea and discussing current events with Dream and Lucienne. You rarely ever got to visit and talk with your partner’s siblings, and the few times you did, it was mostly with Death and Despair. Any time Desire and Dream were in a room with each other for more than a minute it always turned ugly (usually because of your beautiful partner and their antics) so you tried to spend some time with Dream in a place where you knew that Desire would rarely ever want to visit, the Dreaming. 

“You mortals have barely changed over the years,” Dream commented, amused at your stories. 

“Nah, we haven’t,” you replied, chuckling, “I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen people dream of.”

“Mortals are quite...” he looked like he was trying not to laugh at the images coming to his head, “creative when it comes to your dreams. A very specific type of dreams.”

“On behalf of all mortals, I am so sorry for the things you’ve seen.”

He was about to reply when suddenly a shadow came over the library for a brief second and passed. When it did, Dream and Lucienne both shared a knowing look with each other, before turning to you, who was clueless.

“What was that?” You asked, looking up to the ceiling and to the windows, searching for where the shadow had come from. 

“It’s time for you to wake up,” Lucienne answered.

“Okay, but what was that? That shadow just now?” you asked again, looking at them both. 

They both shared the same look again and you wondered what it was that they were saying to each other. 

“You must wake up, (Y/N),” Dream told you, standing up from his chair. He was about to turn and leave when suddenly the shadow came over the library again and passed quickly. When it left, he turned back to you and said politely, “We will see each other again, (Y/N). But now you must wake up.”

“Wait,” you said standing up from the table. “What’s that shadow? That’s never happened before when I needed to wake up.”

A sigh left Lucienne’s mouth at your insistence and she turned to Dream with a look that said that she wanted to answer you, but was not sure if she was allowed to. 

“Well?”

The next sigh that you heard came from Dream before he finally answered, “It is Desire.”

“Desire,” you replied, wondering how the shadow was them.

“They know that we are talking to each other and wants your attention.”

Oh, D, you thought, rolling your eyes. You hoped you would be able to someday hang out with them, Dream, Death, and the rest of their siblings in the same room without any problems. 

“I’m sorry,” you told them, feeling your body become light and your consciousness beginning to leave the Dreaming and going back to your body. 

“It’s alright,” Dream told you, a small smile on his face and his voice echoing in your head as everything around you went dark.

~ 

“Hmmm,” you heard humming from behind you as you opened your eyes. Turning over you looked up to see your partner, Desire, sitting up against your headboard. They were humming while reading one of your books, their golden eyes running across the pages quickly. The sight was strange to see.

“You’re reading,” you pointed out, your voice slightly scratchy from sleep.

“Yes, I am,” they said, not taking their eyes off of the book.

“You read,” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow, glancing at the book to see it was one of your favorite graphic novels, Uzumaki.

“Yes, I do,” they replied, amused at your observation. “Did you think Dream was the only one of us who reads?”

“No, I just never seen you read before.”

“Mmm” was their reply as they turned a page. “I don’t see a reason to have some humongous library like my brother. But I do read. Mostly things made for beings like myself, but every now and then a book made by mortals would grab my attention.”

“Oh,” you said, pushing up from your elbow and sitting up against the headboard next to them, laying your head gently upon their shoulder. “You’re a hot nerd.”

“Shut up,” you heard them reply and glanced at their face to see them grinning. You looked down to see them turning the page to the part in the book where the doctor has sewn the mother’s stomach back up with her baby inside, the black and white image not scaring you the same way that it used to. “I truly don’t understand humans’ obsession with bodily horrors. Lust, anger, dreams, death, I get, but horror is strange.”

“I don’t get your obsession with keeping me from hanging out with a specific sibling of yours,” you told them.

At that they chuckled, but you could see that there was no amusement behind it. “It’s not an obsession. I just don’t like you around him too long.”

“Why,” you asked.

They were quiet for a little while, their eyes still looking down at your book, but you knew that they were no longer reading it. When they finally did speak, the usual teasing and playfulness in their voice was gone and was more serious, a rare thing for Desire to be.

“Dream thinks he’s better than me,...that he’s more important...”

You wanted to let them know that that wasn’t true, but you chose to let them continue.

“I don’t want him poisoning your poor mind about me or Despair.”

“Poisoning my mind,” you questioned.

You knew that Desire has done some unsavory things in the past. Particularly to their brother. Until now you never knew the reason why they loved to pick and argue with Dream, doing things just to get under his skin. At first you thought it was normal sibling rivalry, but the more you listened to what they’ve done, the more you wondered what the deal was between the two Endlesses were. Until now. 

“Dream thinks he’s better than me,...that he’s more important...”

Why would they think that? The few times that you sat and talked with Dream, you never got the vibe that he thought he was better than Desire. Constantly pissed at them, yeah, but better? Never.

“I don’t want him poisoning your poor mind”

Why would they think he could “poison” my mind?

“D,” you said, catching their attention with your nickname for them.

They looked up from the book and turned to face you, and you could see that despite the always gorgeous, playful yet mysteriousness of their face, never truly showing what they were feeling, their eyes always gave their true emotions away and you could clearly see something you’d never thought you’d ever see in Desire’s eyes. Insecurity.

“I don’t know why you think that Dream thinks he’s better than you, but I promise you, Dream could never ever turn me against you. No one could.”

They let a smile grace their lips and quickly pressed their forehead against yours, your noses almost touching each other. “Do you really promise?”

“I do. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Smiling back at them, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon their lips, enjoying the feeling of being in their presence and having their body so close to yours. When you tried to pull away, in true Desire fashion, they leaned forward and chased your lips, turning the innocent, gentle kiss into something more sensual, but you didn’t care, knowing that you were going to keep your promise and never turn against them.

[fatehbaz]

In the late 18th century, [...] Lahaina carried such an abundance of water that early explorers reportedly anointed it “Venice of the Pacific”. A glut of natural wetlands nourished breadfruit trees, extensive taro terraces and fishponds that sustained wildlife and generations of Native Hawaiian families.

But more than a century and a half of plantation agriculture, driven by American and European colonists, have depleted Lahaina’s streams and turned biodiverse food forests into tinderboxes. Today, Hawaii spends $3bn a year importing up to 90% of its food. This altered ecology, experts say, gave rise to the 8 August blaze that decimated the historic west Maui town and killed more than 111 people.

“The rise of plantation capital spawned the drying of the west side of Maui,” said Kamana Beamer, a historian and a former member of the Hawaii commission on water resource management [...].

---

[S]ugar and pineapple white magnates began arriving on the islands in the early 1800s. For much of the next two centuries, Maui-based plantation owners like Alexander & Baldwin and Maui Land & Pineapple Company reaped enormous fortunes, uprooting native trees and extracting billions of gallons of water from streams to grow their thirsty crops. (Annual sugar cane production averaged 1m tons until the mid-1980s; a pound of sugar requires 2,000lb of freshwater to produce.)

Invasive plants that were introduced as livestock forage, like guinea grass, now cover a quarter of Hawaii’s surface area. The extensive use of pesticides on Maui’s pineapple fields poisoned nearby water wells. The dawn of large-scale agriculture dramatically changed land practices in Maui, where natural resources no longer served as a mode of food production or a habitat for birds but a means of generating fast cash, said Lucienne de Naie, an east Maui historian [...].

“The land was turned from this fertile plain – with these big healthy trees, wetland taros and dryland crops like banana and breadfruit – to a mass of monoculture: to rows and rows of sugar cane, and rows and rows of pineapple,” she said.

---

The Great Māhele of 1848, a ground-breaking law that legitimized private land ownership, laid the ground for big developers to hoard water for profit, said Jonathan Likeke Scheuer, a water policy consultant and co-author of the book Water and Power in West Maui. [...] [T]he creation of private property allowed agricultural corporations to wield “political and ultimately oligarchic power” over elected officials. In 1893, a group of sugar magnates and capitalists overthrew the Hawaiian Kingdom’s Queen Liliuokalani, paving the way for the US to annex Hawaii five years later. Sanford Ballard Dole, a cousin of Dole Plantation’s founder, served as the first governor of Hawaii.

When the last of the sugar companies closed in 2016 [...], Scheuer said, the farms were purchased by large investors for real estate speculation and left fallow, overrun with invasive grasses that became fuel for brush fires. Developers [...] took control of the plantations’ century-old irrigation ditches and diverted water to service its luxury subdivisions. In doing so, it left scraps for Indigenous families who lived downstream. [...] [O]n Maui, 16 of the top 20 water users are resorts, time-shares and short-term condominium rentals equipped with emerald golf courses and glittering pools [...].

---

Text by: Claire Wang. "How 19th-century pineapple plantations turned Maui into a tinderbox". The Guardian. 27 August 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 21

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

Experiencing the Dreaming in your true, awakened state was the most incredible vacation of your life—one filled with magic, wonders, and an overwhelming amount of love from the King of Dreams.

Author's note: This chapter is most likely the LONGEST yet, and while quite chill and romantic, it is extremely important for something that will come soon enough. Warning: highly descriptive NSFW content included!

Upon your return to the castle, Morpheus granted you permission to explore his home further during his absence. Though he promised you an exceptional experience in his realm, an urgent matter required his immediate attention. You abstained from inquiring, recognizing that the situation, whatever its nature, necessitated his direct involvement.

At the end of the day, the sky had transformed into a magnificent starry expanse, simulating a perfect night. Morpheus had ensured everything was set and well-organized for your stay, unwilling to leave you without guidance.

Unity Kinkaid shared her great-granddaughter's compassion and wisdom, making your time together in the library rich with meaningful conversations. She regaled you with fascinating tales from her youth and the life she lived in her dreams during her long sleep, an experience that, though imaginary, led to the very real creation of a Vortex child.

Unity's charm and warmth made the prospect of her inevitable journey to the afterlife profoundly saddening. Though the compromise spared a young life with many years ahead, it left you feeling unsettled, wishing for a betterI solution.

Even in that moment of great reflection, you found solace in the warmth of Lucienne's tea, the comforting aroma of books filling the air, and the welcoming presence of your companions. These simple pleasures heightened your appreciation for being awake in such an extraordinary world, experiencing the Dreaming in a uniquely immersive way.

Meanwhile, Morpheus braced himself for an impending confrontation, one that would stir up bitterness, anger, and disappointment. The clash was unavoidable, given the recent Vortex incident and your role in it. He strode through the dark corridors of his palace, his coat billowing behind him, until he reached the area housing his siblings' sigils. He made a beeline for the one he sought, his pace slowing as he approached the object. Disgust contorted his features as he gazed at the black heart—a symbol bereft of warmth or affection, its shape a cruel irony.

He then grasped it, holding it in his hands before speaking in his characteristic low, deep tone. It was a formality, a customary phrase spoken to seek approval, albeit unnecessary. Any semblance of respect or cordiality toward his sibling had long since vanished.

“Desire. I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Talk to me.”

In that instant, red fog materialized within the heart, and Desire's face appeared on its surface, smiling in that languid way Morpheus could barely tolerate. “Why, sweet Dream, this is a surprise. Almost an event, I might say—”

Impatient with their response, he cut them off abruptly. “Good. I’m coming through.”

Desire's expression flickered momentarily, a brief flash of unease quickly masked by their typical nonchalance. “You are. But of course.” They lounged in their gleaming red chair, clad in a provocative black catsuit, legs elegantly raised. “You know you’re always welcome in my chambers.”

Morpheus stepped forward, his surroundings shifting from the opulent darkness of his castle to the bright, blood-red walls that enveloped the entire space, reminiscent of a human heart. He strode forward with measured steps, barely containing his seething rage. His clenched jaw and furrowed brow betrayed the intensity of his emotions.

“Lovely to see you,” they purred with a husky voice. “Can I get you anything you desire?”

They now lay on their front, facing the King of Dreams with a wide grin, their cat-like tail swaying sinuously of its own accord.

“I desire nothing from you, save some answers.”

“Ooh. Is this a test?”

“Unity Kinkaid should’ve been the Vortex of this era,” he began without preamble. “But someone took advantage of my imprisonment and fathered a child with her, knowing full well that it would become the Vortex, and I would be forced to kill it.”

Desire's unrepentant smirk and relaxed posture spoke volumes to Morpheus. Their bearing betrayed not even a shred of regret.

Not that he'd expect anything less from the one who consistently went to extreme lengths solely to wreak havoc on his existence.

“Was I really that obvious?”

Morpheus's face contorted in exasperation, a sardonic smile playing across his lips. “No. You covered your tracks remarkably well.”

“That’s high praise coming from you,” Desire replied, straightening up with effortless grace.

“What did you truly intend? That I should spill family blood? With all that would entail?”

Desire made no attempt to justify their actions. Instead, they snickered, a broad and proud smile forming as they reveled in the intricacies of their scheme. “This time it almost worked.”

Morpheus recoiled at such a brazen admission, despite having anticipated it. A faint glimmer of hope had persisted that his suspicions might prove unfounded. Now, it seemed, the die was cast.

“My sibling. We of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. We do not manipulate them.”

He advanced, circling Desire slowly, a movement laden with multiple implications.

“If anything, they manipulate us,” he continued. “And you and Despair, and even poor Delirium would do well to remember that.”

He halted behind Desire, who tensed visibly in their seat.

“Your meddling with the Vortex, attempting to bring about my destruction through Rose Walker… that, I expected from you. But to involve her...” His eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind his gaze.

Desire chuckled nervously, feigning innocence. "Ah, you mean your little mortal lover? I must say, I was quite intrigued by her charm. I merely wondered what captivates you about her, and if she might be easily swayed."

Morpheus' presence loomed behind them, an ominous shadow. “You attempted to use her against me, but she did not fall for your games.”

Desire’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “She was more resilient than most. But come now, dear brother, surely you can’t blame me for testing the waters. After all, love and desire are not so different, are they?”

Morpheus’s voice dropped, a chill entering his tone. “Do not mistake your nature for mine. Love is not a weapon to be wielded.”

“But isn’t that exactly what you fear, my sweet Dream? That your precious love could be your undoing?”

"Your aim was to ensnare her in your schemes, to draw her into your web of deceit. You have underestimated her. She is far beyond your reckoning—as am I. I shall not permit you to transmute her feelings into something malicious."

Desire's grin widened. "What can I say? She's a tantalizing blend of vitality and promise, an irresistible temptation to one such as myself."

In a swift motion, Morpheus seized Desire's hair, yanking their head back as he finally snapped. He leaned in close, his face mere inches from their nose, eyes blazing with barely contained fury. “Mess with me or mine again and I shall forget you are family.”

A foreboding silence ensued.

“Do you believe yourself strong enough to stand against me? Against Death? Against Destiny?”

Desire's crimson lips pressed into a firm line, their shoulders quivering from the strained position, and from something else entirely.

After a tense pause, they choked out a reluctant reply. “No.”

Morpheus released his grip, roughly shoving Desire's head forward, then strode away. “Remember that next time you’re inspired to interfere in my affairs.”

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn’t I?" Desire mused, though their brother had already returned to his own realm, beyond the reach of their taunting words.

Their toothy grin then faded, replaced by a more serious, menacing stance. “Next time, I’ll draw blood.”

The ominous declaration hung in the air, audible only to Desire in the unsettling silence of their domain.

You were utterly astonished, your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened in disbelief. Morpheus had invited you to stay in his realm for what would feel like several days to you, though it would translate to mere hours in the Waking World. His intention was to provide you with a peaceful interlude, free from any tumultuous events and offering you an extended respite from your professional responsibilities.

To accommodate your stay, a private room had been meticulously arranged for you atop one of the castle's loftiest towers. Its walls were painted in velvety shades of blue and purple, the colors transforming subtly as if alive. They flowed into one another like liquid silk, creating a gentle, mesmerizing motion around you. In the center, against the back wall, stood a magnificent canopy bed. Its frame, carved from dark, polished wood, featured intricate designs that seemed to weave a tale of ancient dreams.

The canopy itself was draped with gauzy, shimmering fabrics that sparkled as if woven with stardust, catching the light from crystals hanging above like a chandelier. The bedspread, a rich deep blue with silvery threads running through it, created patterns of constellations mirroring the night sky outside.

Around the room, clusters of moonflowers bloomed, their petals pulsing faintly with an otherworldly luminescence. The air was infused with their delicate, sweet fragrance, which mingled with a faint, earthy scent from large amethysts strategically placed throughout the space. The crystals emitted a soft radiance, creating a soothing atmosphere that calmed the mind.

Glass doors, framed by heavy curtains that echoed the room's rich hues, opened onto a spacious balcony. As you stepped out, a breathtaking panorama unfolded before you—an endless expanse of the Dreaming. Rolling landscapes stretched from lush forests to serene lakes, all bathed in the pale glow of a gracefully arcing crescent moon. The stars seemed impossibly close, larger and brighter than you'd ever seen, as if you could simply reach out and pluck them from the sky.

On the balcony, a couple of chairs and a small table were arranged for quiet contemplation of the realm's beauty. Silver vines, sparkling like frost, entwined the railings. The flooring appeared to contain a living galaxy, trapped within its surface.

You were gazing at a true sanctuary, a place so magical and fabulous that you almost feared staining it with your shoes. Yet, no matter how many times you paced back and forth to admire it, everything remained incredibly pristine.

"Morpheus, I... this is..." you stammered, your voice quivering with emotion. "I'm completely at a loss for words," you finally managed, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

Morpheus, who had been observing you quietly from the entrance, offered a contented smile. "I gather you find it to your liking," he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Your eyes lit up with joy, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Like it? Morpheus, I absolutely adore it! It's beyond anything I could have ever imagined."

He stepped forward, gently taking your hands, a gesture you immediately reciprocated. "You deserve this and more."

"You're amazing. I've said it before, but I feel compelled to reiterate just how incredible you are."

Morpheus's deep, cerulean eyes softened, his cool touch grounding you amid the surreal wonder of your surroundings. The faint light in the room reflected off his pale features, accentuating the timeless beauty of the Dream Lord. His smile, typically reserved, broadened at your words, revealing a rare glimpse of warmth.

"You flatter me," Morpheus replied, his voice like a gentle breeze that stirred the petals of the moonflowers nearby. "But the Dreaming is as much yours as it is mine. Here, you are not bound by the limits of your world. Let your imagination run free, for it is your dreams that shape this place.”

You shook your head. "No, Morpheus. It's your essence that keeps this realm alive. I'm eternally grateful that you've allowed me to experience even the tiniest fragment of it."

"All that I am, all that the Dreaming encompasses... it would be but half as vibrant without your presence within it."

You chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and giving his hands a gentle squeeze before releasing them. "I see. We could go on praising each other endlessly if we don't stop now."

Morpheus' smile persisted, a wordless acknowledgment of your observation. Indeed, he would express his admiration and love for you in countless ways, for as long as you lived.

Upon turning, your attention was drawn to an item that had escaped your initial inspection. A dark nightgown rested elegantly across the bed, its fabric decorated with tiny, shimmering filaments that also sparkled like distant stars. Approaching it, you marveled at its elegance, your fingers gliding over the smooth, luxurious material.

"Is it possible for me to stay here?" you inquired. "Wouldn't my physical presence in the Dreaming disrupt the natural order of the universe, or something?"

"I've granted you permission to stay," Morpheus assured. "The Dreaming recognizes and respects your reverence for it."

"The Dreaming is important to me."

"You are under my protection. While the Dreaming is not a place for mortals to explore in their waking, you possess a unique understanding of it."

Lapsing into silence, you began removing your shirt, the hem gradually rising past your arms, chest, and head. Morpheus respectfully averted his gaze, staring out at the dream sky as you changed. His consideration for your privacy was incredibly sweet and tender, especially given the number of times he had seen you naked.

You offered a sheepish smile, though he couldn't see it. Carefully, you removed your shoes, stepped out of your jeans, and deftly unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. The ambient air caused your nipples to harden, prompting you to instinctively cross your arms over your chest.

For a moment, you longed for his eyes to caress your form, for him to reach you and envelop you in his embrace, to press his lips against yours, to lose yourselves in passionate intimacy. Ultimately, you realized that despite your desires, the moment wasn't opportune. You had endured a long day filled with ceaseless events, each more intense than the last. Morpheus intended for you to rest, and try as you might to deny it, you could feel fatigue creeping in.

You took the nightgown, slipping your arms through the openings, and gently pulled it on. As the fabric cascaded down your body, it felt as if a pair of soft, velvety hands were sliding over you, a sensation both comforting and ethereal. For a moment, you stood mesmerized, staring at the nightgown adorned with glittering stars. The celestial pattern flowed from the delicate straps to the black lacy hem that brushed your thighs.

Ready for bed, you moved your bare feet across the polished floor, its surface lukewarm against your soles. Morpheus turned to face you, his visage fixed upon you with a concentration that quickened your pulse. His eyes lingered, his expression a mixture of awe and adoration. For a moment, he was rendered speechless.

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “What is it? Do I look weird?”

Morpheus moved towards you, coming to a stop mere inches away. "No," he murmured, his voice as soft as a gentle breeze. "You look exquisite."

A warm blush crept across your cheeks, suffusing your face with color. “You really think so?”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his once more. "You are more beautiful than all the dreams I’ve ever crafted."

“You keep saying that.”

“It is true.”

You pressed yourself against him, nestling into the crook of his neck. "You make me feel so good about myself," you whispered. "Truly special."

"You are. Beyond words or measure."

"I wish I could stay here with you forever."

His fingers curled around the material of your nightgown, circling your waist. "You may return whenever you wish, my love. For you, the Dreaming will always be open."

Morpheus possessed a remarkable ability to ground you, instilling a sense of belonging wherever you went, provided he remained by your side.

And so, you inhaled his intoxicating scent, brushing the tip of your nose along his jaw and cheek, bringing your lips tantalizingly close to his. Your breathing quickened as your mind wandered to all the intimate possibilities awaiting you, right there in that room, on that bed, with your body adorned in that breathtaking nightgown.

You kissed him, slow and deep, your fingers weaving through his hair. It was a desperate endeavor to kindle his passion, to tempt him into abandoning his restraint. But you should have known better; his resolve was as unyielding as a mountain.

"My love," he breathed, his lips barely parted, your eyes half-lidded.

“Yes?”

"You need rest," he said, his voice a calming reminder.

"I need you, Morpheus. I want you so badly right now."

Your boldness surprised even you, but given your recent trip to Cape Kennedy and the partial destruction his realm had faced due to the Vortex, you'd hardly had time to savor his company.

Though undeniably tired, your crave for him surpassed your physical weariness.

He claimed your lips again, exhaling softly as his body tensed against yours. However, just as you thought he was about to fulfill your yearning, Morpheus pulled away.

“You don’t want to…?” you asked, your lips forming a disappointed pout.

"I do. But your well-being takes precedence. Sleep now, my love. There will be ample time for that, and anything else you may wish for."

As he spoke, his fingertips caressed your cheek with heartwarming tenderness, leaving a trail of excitement in their wake. Leaning into his touch, you tilted your head slightly and released a trembling sigh. “I’m sorry.”

"You need not apologize to me."

"I don't want to come across as pushy or make you feel uncomfortable in any way."

"Y/N, I would never dismiss your advances.”

"Even if I become overly demanding?"

"You could demand the entire universe, and I would rearrange the stars and planets to give it to you."

You laughed, enveloping his neck with your arms and planting a final, impish kiss on his lips. "I'd appreciate it, but perhaps we should leave the cosmos as it is."

Subduing your appetite for him, you disengaged from Morpheus and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. But just as you prepared to return to the bed, the Endless bent down, scooped you up by your legs, and cradled you in his arms bridal style.

It was unexpected, but so delightful that you immediately relaxed against his chest. “What are you doing?” you queried, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

A rare gleam of mischief flickered on his face. “I am ensuring that your journey into sleep is as peaceful as the dreams that await you.”

"My, my, you never cease to surprise me, Dream King."

You draped one arm around his shoulder for support while bringing your other hand to rest gently on the nape of his neck. Unable to resist his nearness, you peppered his lips, chin, and temple with delicate kisses.

At times, you worried about being too clingy or intrusive, but Morpheus had never expressed or shown any form of opposition.

The trek from the balcony window to the bed seemed all too fleeting, and as he carefully placed you on the mattress, you found yourself reluctant to let go.

The covers had been magically lowered, beckoning you to sink into the pillows and let the sheets embrace your legs. The mattress was as plush as a cloud, gently hugging your body as you sank into its softness.

"Will I still be able to dream, even though I'm already in the Dreaming?" you asked, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Yes. The Dreaming reflects your mind, desires, and fears. Here, your dreams may spring to life, more vivid and interwoven with the world around you. They might merge with reality, bearing greater significance and substance."

Your eyelids grew heavy. "My dreams are always vivid, particularly those featuring you."

He stroked your hair, pulling the covers up to your chest. You felt as though you were bathing in a sea of stars, with the lively shimmer and constellations dancing all around you. "Then, let me reveal to you even more—all the wonders my realm has to offer."

Tiredness crept through you and shrouded your thoughts. The delectable scent of moonflower soothed your senses, while Morpheus's lips on your forehead cocooned you in a tranquil haze.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sandman," you said teasingly, an utterance which made him smile anew.

Your grip on him loosened as sleep overtook you. Morpheus watched your resting form, his eyes filled with wonder, as if beholding the most magnificent celestial being in all of creation.

"Sleep well, my heart. Know that I am with you in every shadow and every star. May the Dreaming guide you to a peaceful slumber."

His words vibrated in the recesses of your consciousness.

"Until dawn summons you back to me."

Tall grass brushed against your hands with remarkable clarity, and every color and detail stood out vividly, even in the nocturnal atmosphere. Towering trees loomed above, their leaves gleaming under an unseen moon. Cool air carried the scent of earth and pine, infused with a subtle magic that made each breath invigorating.

A mystical forest materialized before you, a scene glimpsed in previous dreams, yet now strikingly different. Your heightened awareness went beyond your typical dream lucidity, resulting in something you could easily mistake for reality.

In a sense, it actually was, for the Dreaming existed as a tangible dimension.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, the path beneath your bare feet began to glow with celestial light, guiding you forward. Your nightgown complemented the luminous trail, its imbued glitters sparkling with each step.

Emerging from the woods, you discovered a lake of spectacular radiance, its surface covered by an almost blinding blue energy, as if it were a pool of liquid sapphire. It resembled tonic water under UV light.

The air was rich with earthy aromas; damp soil, wildflowers, and fresh grass, mingled with the subtle sweetness of mixed herbs and trees. Perhaps palm or willow contributed to this intoxicating blend.

However, the scene was not yours alone to witness. At the lake's edge stood a magnificent deer, its form adorned with green patterns that swirled across its body in intricate designs. The creature appeared awe-inspiring, regal and enchanting in its beauty. Its grace seemed almost sculpted from the dreams themselves.

As the splendid animal turned its neck to face you, its identity became unmistakable.

"It's you," you declared, closing the distance between you and the familiar. "I've been wondering where you went."

He inclined his head, a gentle smile in his eyes. "Y/N, it's wonderful to have you here."

"This place is fantastic," you expressed. "It's as if it's been lifted from the pages of a fantasy novel."

"Like a dream come true?" he asked, his voice gentle and melodious.

You bent forward, delicately running your hand along the deer's neck. "Exactly.”

"This forest is a manifestation born from the very essence of your dreams," he explained.

The patterns on its fur seemed to dance in harmony with the lake's melodious ripples, reflecting in your eyes. They seemed to incorporate elements from Native American folklore and Celtic traditions, subjects that had always fascinated you in books and films.

You smiled, turning your attention to the luminous surface of the water. "What kind of lake is this? I've never seen anything like it.”

"It is formed from your spirit as well. The Dreaming molds itself to your subconscious."

Surrounded by the forest's brilliance and comforted by your familiar's presence, you felt a powerful connection to both the Dreaming and Morpheus. His care to you infused every aspect of your dreams, embedded into each detail, from the gentle rustle of leaves to the faintest whisper of wind.

"If you wish, you can peer into the water and observe the thoughts lurking just beneath your conscious mind. It's a mirror of self-discovery, offering a glimpse into parts of yourself that often remain veiled from awareness."

"Will it be scary?"

"It depends on your perspective," he replied thoughtfully. "Some mortals might find this daunting or unsettling, as it could bring up fears and guilt they're not yet prepared to face."

“Sounds harsh.”

"It can be. But you, my dear, will be just fine."

With a mixture of worry and trepidation, you approached the azure expanse and knelt at its edge. As you looked into the water, your reflection stared back at you, but it wasn't just your own image you noticed there. The surface immediatly revealed scenes from your life, both waking and dreaming, flashing across it like an animated slideshow of memories. Each scene was connected by even more glowing threads that took form, extending from the deer's fur to the lake itself in a delicate web of light.

Visions of your childhood flashed across the surface, moments of joy and tranquility shared with your father or spent in peaceful solitude. Your teenage self appeared next, sketching and planning dreams that would take years to materialize. A more recent picture followed: you with tears streaming down your face as fears about your future tore at your heart. Then Hob's warm smile came into view, followed by the kindly faces of Mr. Burgess and Mr. McGuire.

But there was more. Shadows expanded like black ink, staining parts of the moving canvas and distorting the images. The sight disoriented you, but only for a moment, as you recognized it as nothing more than a recreation of your darkest feelings; loneliness, anger, and pain.

All things you believed you had moved past, but clearly hadn't fully processed yet.

Finally, you saw Morpheus, seated in the glass bowl in the basement, a poignant reminder of your first encounter. Your relationship played like a documented love story, with scenes switching from one to another in a never-ending transition of moments. As the images flowed, the lake's radiance grew more intense. The water sparkled with an increasingly vivid glow, showcasing the depth and richness of your flashbacks.

Your eyes stung, yet tears didn't fall. The rolling clips formed a mosaic of emotions, where deep sorrow merged with pure joy, creating a bittersweet movie of your life's journey.

“Are you okay?” The deer asked, nuzzling your hair.

"Yes. This is really nice, actually."

"I am here with you, and so is the Dreaming. Always, Y/N."

“I know.”

You reached out to stroke him again, your fingers tracing each contour of his green swirls. You settle more comfortably onto the grass, your nightgown spreading around you like a silken carpet, now expanding gracefully to the ground.

"Morpheus mentioned that I could give you a name. And I believe you really need one at this point."

His eyes widened with intrigue. "A name? I hadn't considered that possibility."

"Would you like me to find it for you?"

“I mean… I suppose? Surely you can conjure something imaginative for a Dream like me.”

You furrowed your brow, deep in thought. Your extensive reading had introduced you to a treasure trove of captivating names and terms. One of them would certainly be fitting for your familiar deer. You wanted something meaningful, an appellation as majestic as he appeared to be.

"Let's see. Morpheus created you as a guide, and right now, you shine like a beacon in the night."

"Ah, I like where this is going," he said, his ears perking up with interest.

"Stars have long been used for navigation too. Are you familiar with Peter Pan? There's a famous quote: 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning.'"

Indeed, celestial imagery had become a recurring motif in your experiences within the Dreaming.

“Star… ‘Sic itur ad astra’, 'thus one journeys to the stars’. That’s what Virgil wrote in the Aeneid.”

The deer nodded attentively.

“Star. Astrum in latin, and ‘astron’ from ancient Greek. Astrum’s accusative plural form is in fact, ‘Astra’.”

In that moment, inspiration struck like lightning. "Hold on—'Astra'!"

Faced with a destructive force threatening the Dreaming and mortals losing their connection to the realm, Morpheus crafted a familiar to walk beside you in his absence. Like a celestial compass, the deer navigated you through the shadows, guiding you back to the right path whenever you lost your way. Such a name could not have been more appropriate.

He pranced excitedly. "That's quite impressive! You don’t disappoint."

"So, what do you think? Does it suit you?"

"It’s great!”

His enthusiasm was touching, and you delighted in the way he expressed his happiness, frolicking and pirouetting to an invisible rhythm.

He cleared his throat, assuming a solemn stance in front of you, and performed a reverent bow. "I, Astra of the Dreaming, vow to be your guiding star, now and forevermore."

A sense of warmth and gratitude filled your heart. He drew near, allowing you to cradle his muzzle in your hands as your forehead touched his. The green patterns adorning his fur intensified their luminescence, while your Moonstone pendant responded with its characteristic blue gleam.

A new bond was forming, a promise sealed by the very fabric of the universe.

Unbeknownst to you, the Dreaming was seamlessly intertwining with your essence, just as you had become an inseparable part of its grand design.

Several hours passed before you opened your eyes to find the sky had transformed into bright daylight. Your room remained as fantastical as it had been at night, though the overall magic was more pronounced in the darkness. You stretched your arms and took a deep breath, feeling your entire body rejuvenated in a way that defied description.

Rising from bed, you stepped onto the balcony and gazed in awe at the lively spectacle of the Dreaming unfurling before you. The greenery was even more lively and dazzling, while the sky stretched out like a clear, infinite canvas.

You returned inside, a bright smile adorning your face. As your eyes swept the room, you caught sight of something voluminous hanging from the canopy on the other side of the bed. It was a dress you instantly recognized, one that had adorned you in your dreams before. Evidently, it had captivated Morpheus’ attention, standing out among the myriad outfits you'd worn during your nocturnal adventures.

You ran your fingers along the dress's lengthy gown, admiring its softness and lightness. The Endless’ devotion to every detail your conscious mind conjured was a testament to his deep affection for you; he felt compelled to not only track those elements but also manifest them in physical form within his realm. At that moment, you felt certain that there was nothing he couldn't provide for you.

As it turned out, the room held even more surprises in store.

Your exploration led you to a stunning wardrobe tucked away in a distant corner, crafted from ancient wood and embellished with intricate gold carvings. As you opened its doors, you gasped audibly at the spectacular array of dream dresses inside, each one perfectly aligned, flawless embodiments of your creations.

But there was more. Upon checking the first drawer, you couldn't suppress a giggle upon discovering an elegant lingerie collection, perfectly folded and displayed as if in a high-end boutique. Though not overtly provocative, the pieces reflected Morpheus' refined taste and his preference for you.

It was exceptional, a level of care and consideration you couldn't expect from anyone else. It all made you feel at home, as if you had just begun to truly live there.

Smiling, you chose an elegantly embroidered set of undergarments, ready to begin your first full day in the Dreaming. The best aspect of that extraordinary sojourn outside your familiar world was the genuine feeling of wonder it evoked. Every moment unveiled itself as an authentic revelation, each one a miniature miracle in its own right.

Just as you thought you had unveiled all the room's secrets, you discovered a mysterious door partially concealed within the wall—one you were certain hadn't been there the night before. Carefully, you placed your hand on the golden handle, turning it slowly, until you heard a soft click. The door swung open, inviting you to step into the unknown.

What appeared before you made your knees weak, and you had to brace yourself against the doorframe, mouth agape and a hand pressed against your chest. You blinked repeatedly, your eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the vast, fantastical spa-like bathroom before you. Polished amethyst lined the walls, casting a soothing purple luminosity that danced across the crystalline surfaces and complemented the bedroom's decor. The air was infused with the calming scent of lavender, enveloping you like a sweet embrace.

At the room's center stood the focal point: a Greek-inspired bathing pool seamlessly integrated into the floor. Smooth stone bordered it, covered in intricate engravings of old symbols and designs that seemed to undulate with the flickering light. The water, crystal-clear, fresh, and pure, was in constant motion, regenerated by a neverending current. Its surface sparkled with a faint iridescence, reminiscent of the lake in your dream, inviting and warm.

At the far end stood a fountain, similar to the famous statues you'd encountered in museums and presenting a similarity to those in Morpheus’ throne room. The soothing sound of water cascading into the pool sent pleasant shivers down your spine, creating an atmosphere of ultimate relaxation.

You twirled around, hands clasped over your mouth, laughing in amazement. More Amethyst crystals of various sizes were scattered throughout, adorning the stones, ceiling, and columns, adding to the room's ambiance.

However, what you found incredibly shocking were the basins and sanitary fixtures, their surfaces glinting with a soft luster. Morpheus had accounted for every aspect of human physiology, attending to every facet of it. While it might have been embarrassing to contemplate, you were far too stunned to feel self-conscious about it.

A plush seating area was included, with soft towels and robes made of the finest materials, ready for you to use before, or after your bath. Makeup supplies were arranged on a table, complemented by a hairbrush and what appeared to be the Dreaming's version of essential oils.

As a final touch, Morpheus had added a large mirror, also decorated with gold and a hint of something more—perhaps moonlight itself captured and forged into a frame.

Words failed to express your emotional state, for such lavish treatment seemed befitting only of a king's devotion to his queen.

Accentuated by the joyful occurrence, you wanted nothing more than to become Morpheus' true partner in his realm. Your heart fluttered with the fervent hope that one day, in the not-too-distant future, you might join in matrimony with the Lord of Dreams himself.

Somehow, someway, as improbable as it seemed. It was an idea taking shape in your mind, one you wanted to indulge in for a while.

Feeling refreshed and clad in your newly acquired attire, you settled onto the balcony, allowing the Dreaming's breeze to caress your gown and hair. You were aware that Morpheus had numerous responsibilities, including ongoing repairs in the wake of the Vortex incident. You didn't mind that he wasn't there to greet you, because you knew he would always keep a watchful eye on you.

Lost in your reverie, you were startled by a gentle knock at the door. It opened softly to reveal Lucienne, bearing a tray laden with what looked like an exquisitely prepared breakfast. Her smile radiated warmth, and her demeanor exuded respect and kindness.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you slept well?"

My lady…?

"I did, thank you, Lucienne. But please, there's no need for such formality. We're friends, after all."

"You are an honored guest at the moment," she stated. "It is of utmost importance that you are treated as Lord Morpheus desires."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you said, "Oh, come now. I'm certain Morpheus won't take issue if you treat me as you normally would. I may be a waking guest at present, but I've visited the Dreaming countless times in my dreams."

Lucienne's tension visibly eased at your words, her smile broadening with sincere friendliness. “You really don’t know how important you are, do you?”

"I'm not really that important. I'm just… me. I'm the same person you found in the throne room months ago."

She placed the tray on the table, pouring inviting tea into a cup. She artfully arranged fresh fruit in a glass bowl, and set out a small plate with a pastry that looked too delectable to eat. But what sent your mind reeling was the aroma of bacon and eggs, smoky as though they had just been prepared.

"And how many dreamers have reached Lord Morpheus' castle during the Sleepy Sickness?” She quipped. “It is not even possible without his explicit permission, unless you are a Vortex. I recognized your uniqueness even then."

"I think that was more his doing, but... fair enough."

“Lord Morpheus has ensured that your breakfast is to your liking,” she said with pride. "Take your time and enjoy. He will be with you shortly.”

The bacon was perfectly juicy, just as you preferred it. The eggs were flawlessly cooked (you wondered if they were even created manually) with pristine whites and yolks that resembled liquid gold. The fruit platter displayed a selection of the plumpest, most luscious blueberries, blackberries, and strawberries you'd ever laid eyes on. The pastry, a slice of rich, velvety cheesecake drizzled with melted caramel, looked positively divine. The tea's aroma wafted through the air, a delightful blend of sweet vanilla and zesty citrus notes.

You were certain that every bite and sip would be nothing short of heavenly.

"Thank you, Lucienne. I truly appreciate this."

Maintaining her professional composure, Lucienne departed with a reverent bow, leaving you to your peaceful corner in solitude. As you gazed at your breakfast with a growing appetite, you realized that even winning the lottery couldn't compare to the extraordinary hospitality you were receiving.

Perfectly content with a full stomach and properly brushed teeth (yes, the bathroom even had a toothbrush for you with the necessities), you tidied up the table and set the tray aside. Your original clothes were neatly placed on a small couch in front of the bed, along with your forgotten bag, which you wouldn't really need. Your phone retained its charge, but predictably, there was no signal available. You switched it off completely to avoid unnecessary battery drain.

Given the difference in time flow between realms, you knew your absence from the Waking World would likely go unnoticed—or at least be perceived as brief compared to your stay in Morpheus’ realm.

True to Lucienne's word, the Endless appeared shortly after, his arrival as silent and graceful as a cat's. He manifested silently behind you, his breath warm against your ear, his hands gently resting on your waist. The moment felt intimate and romantic, like newlyweds sharing their first day together. You caught yourself, suddenly aware that your imagination might be getting a bit carried away.

"Thank you for this," you expressed. "It's been absolutely wonderful."

"I am pleased, my love," he replied. "And you are truly a vision to behold."

"I see you've been paying close attention to my wardrobe choices."

"I attend to every detail that concerns you."

"I can see that. And honestly, I have no grounds for complaint."

Turning in his embrace, you planted a delicate kiss on his lips. "I'm curious. What else do you have in store for me?"

"There is a task that requires my attention, and I wish for you to accompany me."

“Of course! What is it about?”

His hands trailed along your arms with a slow, gentle caress. "Would you care to observe me work?" he asked.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? You mean, like watching you create things?"

“New Dreams and Nightmares.”

"Oh, I'd love to see that!"

His characteristic subtle grin betrayed how deeply your enthusiasm filled him with pride and satisfaction.

“Then, come with me,” he invited, extending his hand with an elegant flourish.

You grasped it firmly, ready to embarking on a new adventure with the King of Dreams. Your anticipation grew as you prepared to explore more of his daily routine, in a world that differed exponentially from yours.

The possibilities were boundless, with no path set in stone. Your imagination was the only limit, as every thought and desire that crossed your mind could shape and fall within your grasp without constraint.

Thus, finding yourself in Morpheus' work area, you weren't surprised to see that he had chosen a seraphic beach. The calm sea waves lulled you, while the surrounding mountains created a Nordic atmosphere, with just the right amount of stillness in the air. In a way, it mirrored your own dreamscape, deepening your link with him.

You observed Morpheus standing before partially formed creations, beings yet to be fully defined and brought to life. He gazed at them in contemplation, hands clasped together, his head tilted slightly. As you watched, one of the figures’ face morphed according to his vision.

He remained silent, and you matched his quietude, perched on a nearby rock, taking care not to disturb his concentration. As an artist yourself, you comprehended the importance of uninterrupted focus.

The sky was dotted with scattered clouds, casting a somber mood, while occasional sunbeams pierced through the gloom. The weather was intentional, with not a single element left to chance.

You adored every aspect of it, the Lord of Dreams and his realm in all their multifaceted glory.

Eventually, Lucienne returned, walking calmly towards you and Morpheus with a book in her hands. It was a new piece of literature that had just appeared in the library: "Into The Night," a fantasy novel Rose Walker would write in the near future. The idea that any story could be found in the Dreaming before its author had even put pen to paper was mind-boggling. You felt a flood of happiness for Rose, knowing her long-cherished dream would become reality, a future she had yet to discover.

Morpheus then entrusted the Corinthian's small skull to Lucienne, asking her to safeguard it for him. She took it without any hesitation, offering a wider smile as the silver ring on her pinky caught a glint of the subdued light.

“Lucienne. Do you not wish to say hello?”

Right before the librarian could retreat, her footsteps silent on the ground, Morpheus' voice rang out, halting her departure. His newest creation, a humanoid silhouette formed from dense purple and blue smoke, seemed vaguely familiar, yet you couldn’t exactly place where you had seen it before.

The Dream expanded and transformed, revealing an evolved form you finally recognized from your recent dream visit. Before you stood none other than Gault, the Nightmare Morpheus had once banished for challenging the Dreaming's balance and rules, now reborn from her former essence. As butterfly-like wings unfurled from her back, she shrugged her shoulders, adjusting to the unexpected metamorphosis. Her eyes opened, revealing first a glimmer of confusion, then shock as she noticed the fluttering membranes.

“I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to freighten.”

“The choice is not yours to make. We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

You inhaled sharply at the spectacle. Like a caterpillar, Gault had emerged as the new version of herself, elevated to the status of Dream after enduring such a painful time as a harbinger of fear.

Lucienne, for her part, was equally overjoyed. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”

Gault's jubilation could be perceived through the blissful smile illuminating her dark complexion. She stepped forward, looking at her appearance in disbelief. “Thank you, Lucienne!”

She was stunning, a living embodiment of an authentic fairytale. The same delicate purple cracks and lightning patterns she bore as a Nightmare still traced along her body, accentuating her unique presence.

“May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?” She asked Morpheus.

“I had no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that. So did you.”

His gaze briefly met yours, seeking a moment of connection. “But now I’m listening.”

Your eyes glistened at Morpheus' growth. His willingness to reconsider past decisions and embrace change signaled a significant shift in his character.

You never saw malice or wrongdoing in Morpheus' actions, always understanding that his choices were necessary for both the Dreaming and the sake of the Waking World. However, you couldn't help but find it endearing to see him soften towards his Nightmare's wish.

“Or trying to,” he concluded, glancing towards Lucienne again.

The librarian was touched and satisfied with her lord's new interpretation of the rules. They exchanged a silent look of complicity, one that demonstrated their enduring trust would transcend centuries of separation.

“New Dreams,” he declared. “New Nightmares. A new age.”

How had you found yourself in such a privileged position? Being present in the world of dreams had already proven invaluable, despite only a few hours passing since your awakening. You were amazed by the serendipity that had brought you to that point, allowed to explore the creation of dreams firsthand.

“Miss Y/LN, I present you Dream of the Endless.”

Who could have imagined that a humble job as a maid would blossom into a love surpassing the vastness of the universe and all conceivable realities?

“Thank you, sir.”

Gault's wings undulated in unison, their pace quickening as they sent gentle gusts of wind your way. She ascended from the ground, flying higher into the sky towards the sun. She embarked on her new calling, seeking dreamers to inspire, fulfilling the very dream she had long held for herself. The three of you looked at her soaring form until she became nothing more than a twinkling speck in the distance, like a fairy vanishing into the heavens.

The scene was breathtakingly beautiful and poetic, something worth seeing with your own eyes.

“I might be here a while,” Morpheus said, addressing Lucienne. “Would you mind taking care of things while I work?”

“I am back now. You may return to the library.”

The stark contrast between his current statement and his previous one, the latter driven by anger and frustration over the Vortex claiming parts of his realm, did not escape the notice of either you or Lucienne.

The librarian, visibly moved by Morpheus' words, responded with a teary smile. “With pleasure, sir.”

Despite life's complexities, you couldn't help but relish in those moments of happy resolutions. While perhaps idealistic, they always warmed your heart in a way that was difficult to dismiss, even in the face of the inevitable ups and downs.

With a final nod, she turned and strode away confidently, carrying the power of the Dreaming with utmost diligence and care.

You waited for tranquility to settle over the scene again, leaving you and Morpheus alone in the serene surroundings.

Your smile spoke volumes without the need for words. As soon as he noticed it, he mimicked it with a restrained grin of his own. "What?"

Rising elegantly from the rock, your gown sweeping elegantly behind you, you moved toward him. "You have no idea how proud I am of you right now."

“Are you?”

"Yes. Gault is perfect, and you couldn't entrust your realm to better hands than Lucienne's."

"Y/N, you have been instrumental in bringing about these changes."

You blinked in surprise. "How so?"

"You possess wisdom and composure. You view everything from a distinct perspective, one that has never passed judgment on my decisions."

You smiled warmly. Your insights about change and the parallels you drew between his work and mortal creativity weren't intended to sway his perspective. Yet, as he acknowledged, Morpheus had truly taken your words to heart.

"For that, my love, I must express my deepest gratitude."

His lips caressed yours with a feather-light touch, his arms encircling your back in the sweetest enfolding gesture. The kiss tasted of midnight breeze, carrying whispers of starlight and moonlit gardens. An almost imperceptible flavor lingered, like the first sip of crystal-clear spring water after a long, arduous odyssey.

"Why are you so good to me, Morpheus?"

"I see no reason to treat you any differently."

You hummed contentedly against his neck, tightening your arms around it. "I hope you don't mind if I hold on to you for a while."

"On the contrary, I welcome it. You are a wellspring of inspiration."

As you stood in each other's arms, you felt the unmoving creatures behind you, their blank eyes and empty faces watching you both in silent witness.

“If that’s the case, then take all the inspiration you need from me.”

And so he did. His creativity flourished, and the Dreaming itself seemed to pulse with renewed energy and possibility.

Witnessing Morpheus craft his new subjects was incredibly entertaining, and his willingness to seek your input on his decisions filled your heart with elation. He deeply valued your human perspective and was committed to honoring it fully, incorporating your personal views and minor suggestions into some of his creations.

Throughout the day, Morpheus fretted that his tasks might bore you or that you could find your time in his realm filled with activities you weren't particularly interested in, but you consistently assured him of your fascination and expressed how fortunate you felt just to be there. You found time in the Dreaming passing far too quickly for your liking, a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself.

The only thing that began to concern you was the visible weariness on Morpheus' face, an understandable result of his ceaseless work. Although the King of Dreams required neither sleep nor sustenance, you realized that even an Endless like himself ought to take an occasional respite.

Thankfully, you persuaded him that operations were running smoothly and he had capable assistance at his disposal. Heeding your advice to step away from his responsibilities, Morpheus joined you for a walk through the palace's garden, another celestial oasis teeming with enchantment and ever-changing elements.

Some flowers' petals, like the walls in your room, glowed in a beautiful spectrum, switching from soft blues to pinks and purples. Other blossoms defied nature, appearing from thin air and floating like lanterns. Towering trees with silver-like bark stretched skyward, their translucent leaves unlike anything in the Waking World. Instead of water, streams of liquid light meandered through the ground, defeating logic as they formed from unseen sources. The air hummed with distant sounds, breezes rustling through trees, tinkling of invisible bells, and the quiet murmur of whispered dreams.

Morpheus remained silent, observing you as you explored the garden with childlike exuberance. He stood before you while you sat beneath one of the main arches, your gown cascading around your legs. You smiled, extending your hand to him in a wordless invitation.

Although his lips curved into a soft expression, you detected a hint of hesitation in his demeanor, as if he were uneasy about taking a moment's rest in his own domain.

"Come on, the ground won't swallow you whole."

He chuckled, taking your fingers in his and following your lead with curiosity brightening his face. You parted your legs to create a space between them, gently guiding him to turn around and sit with his back against you.

Initially perplexed, Morpheus wasn't sure what to expect from you. But as you encouraged him to recline, his head resting comfortably upon your chest, your intention became clear.

You encircled his torso with your arms and pressed your lips to his temple. "Hi," you said affectionately.

Morpheus exhaled, the weight of centuries momentarily lifting from his shoulders. For one who bore the vastness of dreams and the neverending burden of his duties, that moment of simplicity felt foreign, yet profoundly welcome.

“Hello,” he whispered back, his voice carrying a vulnerability you had never seen before.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” you asked quietly, your fingers bushing through his dark, tousled hair.

“I am not afforded the luxury of rest.”

"Well, even the Lord of Dreams needs some time to unwind every now and then."

Your hands rested gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"You make it natural for me to let go," he proclaimed

"Then I'll be here to remind you whenever you need it."

He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "And here I thought I would be the one caring for you."

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It is just… unfamiliar.”

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

“I have always been the protector, the guardian. To allow myself to be cared for is a vulnerability I have seldom embraced. But with you… it feels different. It feels… good.”

A tranquil sigh escaped your lips. "I told you. You don't have to do everything alone. Let me share the weight with you."

"My love, these burdens are not yours to bear."

“You’re wrong.”

“Why?”

"Have you forgotten my words at the convention? I vowed to be your light, regardless of the challenges you face.”

Unlike those who had forsaken him, you swore to stand by his side, come what may. Knowing of a sibling who seemed particularly invested in destroying Morpheus, you were even more determined to stand your ground for him.

You were even prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, laying down your own life if it meant ensuring his safety and continued existence.

"As a mortal, my abilities may be limited, but my commitment to you runs deep. I want to be a place where you feel safe and appreciated. That's what being devoted to you means to me."

Morpheus closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax fully. Lying somewhere without defenses, doing absolutely nothing—an activity he had previously dismissed as unnecessary—had now become his absolute favorite pastime, provided you were the one supporting him.

“You already are,” he responded. “And with you, Y/N, I find that I do not mind it.”

Unity Kincaid had permanently left the Dreaming during one of your night retreats. Missing your final opportunity to bid her farewell left you with a twinge of regret, but Lucienne assured you that Unity had been escorted to her perfect resting place, where she now dwelled in peace.

As time passed in the Dreaming, you grew increasingly certain that no other journey or getaway could ever compare. It seemed impossible to experience anything more extraordinary, with every imaginable marvel lying within arm's reach.

Amidst the vast oases, mystical caves, and worlds blending fantastical and realistic features, along with the food and drinks you savored, you were at a loss for words to describe the peace it brought you. The castle was a dynamic maze, unveiling new rooms and mysteries each day.

Assisting Lucienne with organizing literature and archives proved surprisingly enjoyable. Matthew's companionship was invaluable, always ready with witty remarks to lighten the mood. Even the seemingly cantankerous Mervyn the Pumpkinhead turned out to be pleasant company during his maintenance. Gradually, each Dreaming entity was becoming significant, leaving an unforgettable impression upon your soul.

At the heart of it all was Morpheus, who transmuted the impossible into reality in ways beyond imagination.

In the end, just when you thought he was not particularly inclined, he granted you that precious time for intimacy you had long waited for. Morpheus exceeded expectations, enthusiastically extending these moments across multiple rendezvous, offering far more than you had initially requested.

The first time Morpheus made love to you in his realm, fully awake and present, it unfolded naturally, without premeditation or orchestration. What began as a leisurely stroll through one of your favorite spots in the Dreaming, hand in hand, soon blossomed into a passionate exchange. Your lips met in a heated dance, kisses deepening with each passing instant, your desire igniting like wildfire. Morpheus gently lowered you to the ground, cradling your body close to his, the soft grass and fragrant flowers yielding beneath you to create a natural bed.

Your clothes vanished in seconds, leaving your naked forms pressed against each other as he delivered a series of precise thrusts that sent waves of pleasure through your body. The grass transformed continuously, enveloping the two of you with its velvety blades like a supportive cuddle. As you connected with the King of Dreams, you also became intimately intertwined with the Dreaming itself, becoming an integral part of it, seamlessly incorporated into its very terrain.

The ecstasy crescendoed to its zenith. Morpheus, though withdrawn, remained atop you, kissing you and basking in your warmth. Your fingertips traced the contours of his back, feeling each defined nerve and muscle. Lean yet powerful, his form was both comforting and sculpted. The delicious feeling of his statuesque body against yours rekindled your arousal, one that burned equally in Morpheus as your lips locked in an infinite pas de deux.

While making love in your dreams was extraordinary, the reality surpassed it by leaps and bounds.

Soon, his body signaled his readiness to rejoin with yours again. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes seeking your approval before proceeding. “May I?”

His unwavering respect for you was admirable, his devotion relentless.

“Yes. Please.”

Never had you longed for someone as intensely as you wanted him. It was intoxicating, an irresistible addiction. The moment he entered, gliding through your slick folds and exploring your depths, your eyes rolled back in sheer bliss. You moaned and trembled, biting your lower lip and whining whenever he struck the right spot, your sensations heightened and reset.

Morpheus required at least three rounds in a row to feel thoroughly sated, yet the resulting soreness in your limbs didn't bother you in the slightest.

Nonetheless, he sought your private company again the following day.

Seated before the bathroom mirror and swathed in a silky robe that clung to your curves, you prepared for a luxurious soak in the pool before bed. As you delicately removed the last traces of makeup with the plushest towel, you barely noticed Morpheus suddenly standing just steps away.

As you turned around, your breath caught and you froze in astonishment. Despite your best efforts to contain it, the shock was evident on your face. Morpheus appeared before you completely nude, his alabaster skin radiant in the soft light. His form embodied the perfection of classical sculpture, an excellent vision of flawless beauty. His overall magnificence was so outstanding that it nearly overshadowed his raging erection, sturdy and proud, irresistibly tempting.

In a way, yes, but not exactly.

With a mischievous smile, you abandoned the softness of the stool to approach the King of Dreams, your eyes briefly pausing on the flushed tip of his arousal before meeting his face. Confident and majestic, he waited for you to draw near, his jaw tightening as your robe loosened, revealing more with each step.

“Were you thinking of me?” you asked with a smile, sliding your fingertips along his chest, your lips mere inches away from his.

“My thoughts are always with you, my love,” he answered naturally.

You moved lower, grasping his length with your hand, guiding it in a slow, gentle motion. "It seems you're particularly pleased to see me."

“’Pleased’ is not quite the word I would choose.”

You circled his tip with your thumb, teasing the sensitive flesh. “Oh? And how would you describe it?”

He swallowed, his lips parting to release a soft sigh of relief. "I would describe it as... inevitable."

“Inevitable?”

"It is as inescapable as the pull of the tide or the turning of the stars. When you are absent, the Dreaming seems diminished, as if a vital part of me is missing."

Your stomach twisted, and your heart raced. “You saw me just an hour ago.”

"You are here, within the boundless walls of my realm. I am loath to squander even a minute of it."

Your smile widened with love. “Well, in that case…”

As you released him, your hand took his, which lay motionless at his side. Untying the sash of your robe, the garment fell open, revealing your womanhood and the swell of your breasts. You guided his index and middle fingers to your core, their tips slipping through your wetness and barely dipping inside.

Your knees quivered at the contact, but you held firm. “I’d say this is inevitable as well,” you concluded.

He inhaled sharply, the sound echoing in the intimate silence between you, a wordless understanding passing as he leaned closer. Your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment rich with unspoken promises.

"You have an uncanny ability to enthrall an Endless."

“Are you suggesting that I'm driving you wild?”

"Perhaps," he mused, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "But only in the most delightful ways," he added, his voice full of affection.

You draped an arm around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his cheek. His hand moved away, leaving you empty and craving more, only to pull you into his arms. He kissed your eyebrow and the bridge of your nose, treasuring the melodic sound of your soft chuckle reverberating through the spacious room.

As you gracefully retreated, your robe fell to the floor, uncovering the rest of your body. His eyes traveled from your neck, rested on the glowing Dreamstone, then trailed down to your nipples. He admired every curve, each detail a testament to the allure that attracted him. The air charged with anticipation as he advanced, once again grasping your hand in his.

Shifting aside, you led him backward to the pool's steps. Cautiously, you eased into the glistening water, the steam cloaking you both like a gossamer veil. The crystal-like liquid engulfed your feet, legs, and waist until it reached your shoulders. Morpheus followed, his hardness bobbing as he descended the marble stairs, submerging himself to chest level.

He could transform even such an erotic view into the highest form of art. He was absolutely hypnotic, something to admire without a trace of shame or embarrassment.

Holding onto his shoulders for support, you hooked your legs around his waist, the water's buoyancy aiding your graceful movement, as if you were weightless. Morpheus immediately clasped your thighs, aligning himself with your open folds and brushing his lips along your cheek. The fountain's sound created a heavenly retreat, its soft trickle providing a soothing backdrop.

With just a few more kisses, he cast aside any inhibition and entered you in one fluid motion. You moaned, adjusting your position to allow him to set the rhythm, and surrendered to his growing ardor as he moved in and out. Your bodies undulated together, the soft splashes of water creating a symphony.

Time seemed to fade away as the purple hue of the crystals illuminated the pool, generating a beautiful gradient transition. Morpheus' movements grew more erratic and fervent, eventually pressing you against the edge of the pool to gain leverage. His muscles tensed and rippled, his deep groans pulsating through his chest.

Your voice escaped you, uncontrolled, as you arched your back, overcome with intense pleasure. Your fingers interlaced with his dark locks, your nails gently grazing his scalp in a soothing caress. Morpheus was relentless, enraptured by your moans and how your body responded to his touch.

“Scream,” he commanded, delivering a powerful thrust that made you jolt and gasp. “Scream for me,” he urged again.

Unable to resist him, you let out a moan so powerful you could hear it bouncing off the walls, returning to you like a siren’s call.

He escalated his efforts, becoming more insistent, rough, and daring. He reached the most sensitive parts of you with practiced precision, coaxing soft whimpers from you. Your orgasm erupted suddenly, crashing over you like a tidal wave and leaving you limp in Morpheus' embrace. Moments later, Morpheus reached his peak alongside you, spurred by your inner walls contracting around him, and the unconscious fondling of your breast.

While some claim that aquatic sex falls short of expectations, with Morpheus, there was no possibility of disappointment or inadequacy. You felt spent yet complete, absolutely satiated.

"You are sublime, my love. Have I caused you any discomfort?"

You smiled, feeling him soften inside you, yet cherishing the physical union for as long as your bodies allowed. "Not at all. You're incapable of causing me harm."

"You have never feared me."

"No. How could I possibly fear you?"

Despite his capacity for intimidation, you consistently discovered enchantment in Morpheus, even during his darkest demonstrations of power.

"Yet, I can be truly terrifying," he said with a wry grin.

"Ooh, now you've piqued my curiosity."

He drifted away from the edge, carrying you with him as you clung to his form, your bodies connected in the water. "You do not wish to witness that side of me. But, if your curiosity is insatiable…"

Gently threading his fingers through your hair, he guided your head back without force, then placed an open-mouthed kiss on your neck.

"I shall utterly consume you," he purred playfully.

You let out a soft, contented sigh followed by a gentle laugh, folding your arms around him as if he were your lifeline. “Best way to die, really.”

"I'd much prefer to keep you alive and by my side."

Brushing your nose against his, you replied, "Good thing I have no intention of leaving you anytime soon."

Or ever, for whatever eternity might mean to a mortal like you.

Morpheus tightened his grip on you, plump lips grazing your right shoulder. Even the fountain statue across the room seemed to smile upon the scene, its constant waterfall creating a circular halo around your forms in the pool.

The third and final time you made love eclipsed any prior experience with the King of Dreams.

The night before your scheduled return to the Waking World, you had the most delectable dinner of your entire life. Though a week in Morpheus' realm had flown by, you couldn't postpone your work indefinitely, no matter how much you wanted to stay.

Although you were accustomed to dining in your private quarters, Morpheus chose a far more elegant setting, where he could also keep you company throughout the entire meal. He didn't eat, of course, but he remained seated at your side from the first course to the last, absolutely adoring the way you smiled with every bite.

The place he chose for you was a secluded area within his castle, situated on a high-ceilinged terrace with a breathtaking view of the landscape. The decorations resembled those in your bedroom, with silver vines adorning the columns, arches, and railing, interspersed with moonflowers and dark green leaves. The long, dark-polished wooden table was adorned with a delicate white lace covering.

The plates were night-blue ceramic, decorated with the customary theme of intricate constellations and twinkling stars. Complementing them were large, weighty glasses, masterfully crafted from the finest Aura crystal and purest gold. Candles scattered throughout emitted a soft, amber glow, their flames swaying in unison.

The dinner itself was a magnificent feast, each dish meticulously prepared to cater to your tastes and desires, yet infused with a celestial twist. Ingredients harvested from the very essence of dreams transformed every bite into a sensory experience far beyond anything the Waking World could offer you. From the most succulent meats and freshest fish to the tastiest, softest bread and the most delectable chocolate tart, you devoured every element with the appetite of someone who hadn't eaten in months.

As you enjoyed the final morsel of dessert, Morpheus inquired if you wished for anything else. You felt so pleasantly full that the mere thought of additional food seemed impossible for the foreseeable future.

Following your generous dinner, you embarked on a much-needed walk that proved essential for aiding digestion after your hearty meal. Morpheus regaled you with tales from the past, stories that had faded into forgotten legends. One such story recounted the time two ancient gods invaded the Dreaming in an attempt to seize control, and you were undoubtedly shocked as Morpheus described his imprisonment within his own castle

Despite his powerlessness, Morpheus ingeniously carved his siblings' sigils on his prison walls. In an ironic twist, it was Desire who answered his call, dispatching a dreamer to aid him.

Although Morpheus initially withheld certain facts, your inquiries prompted him to reconsider. He realized that hiding aspects of himself from you would be unwise, and recognizing this, he transported you to the very gates of his kingdom, a location you suddenly recognized as familiar from a distant dream.

Darkness enveloped you both, the night sky casting long shadows, yet you could still clearly discern the intricate details of the massive gate standing at the edge of the Dreaming. It rose imposingly from a vast expanse that looked more lively and flourishing than before, a sentinel marking the boundary between worlds.

"Morpheus... this is..."

"These are the Gates of Horn and Ivory," he explained, his voice resonating with ancient power. "I carved them myself many eons ago."

Your eyes narrowed as you scrutinized the intricate figures etched onto the entrance. "I've been here before.”

Morpheus turned to face you, his eyes widening slightly. "You have? That should be impossible."

You shook your head firmly. "No, I'm certain. I remember this place vividly."

You stepped forward, your dress billowing in the breeze alongside Morpheus' flowing coat. "It happened a few months ago, when we were still barely acquainted. In fact, I believe this was my very first dream ever. I had completely forgotten about it upon waking."

Morpheus listened intently, his silence encouraging you to continue.

"I suppose this is not a typical destination for mortals in their dreams, yet I found myself here. I distinctly recall these doors and the carvings. I remember touching them."

"And then?"

"Then I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Waking World. Nothing particularly thrilling to report, I'm afraid."

His cool fingers gently clasped your hand. "Would you like me to explain the significance of these gates?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yes. I'd love to hear about it."

"Dreams that pass through the Gate of Ivory are lies, while the the Gate of Horn only admits the truth."

You gazed upward, taking in the towering doors and the massive horns protruding from the rocky pinnacles above. "I assume this is the Gate of Horn?"

"You are correct."

"And… who is the woman depicted in these carvings?"

Morpheus stiffened, his eyes shifting away. "Her name was Alianora."

"Alianora… was she the dreamer Desire sent you?”

“Yes.”

His answer was brief and to the point. You noticed him glancing at Alianora's face, the tendons in his neck tensing.

"She was more than that, though. Right?"

"Why do you ask?”

"These carvings tell something else. I can see they are not mere decorations, Morpheus. She was your lover once, wasn't she?"

When your eyes met again, you saw the pain inscribed in his furrowed brows and pursed lips. You immediately perceived it as yet another star-crossed romance, one of the many heartbreaking narratives he'd rather forget than relive.

Most likely, it was a subject he would hesitate to discuss with you, out of consideration for your feelings.

"…We were in love," he confessed. “But—”

"It's all right. You don’t need to talk about it if you'd prefer not to."

He swallowed nervously, unconsciously tightening his grip around your hand.

The thought of his numerous past girlfriends and a wife, coupled with the likelihood that you wouldn't be his last, still caused an ache in your heart that was incredibly hard to suppress. However, you were confident in Morpheus’ love for you, believing it to be as strong as—or even surpassing—his affection for others, which had faded over time.

The future remained uncertain, an unpredictable path that remained beyond anyone's ability to predict. You chose to embrace the joy of the present moment, savoring a reality worth living without dwelling on hypothetical outcomes.

"Thank you, Morpheus," you said warmly.

“For what…?”

"For telling me the truth about Alianora, and for bringing me to the Gates. Your honesty and opennes about your past demonstrates how much you trust me.” You returned his squeeze, giving him a reassuring smile.

His irises captured the quintessence of the Dreaming as he looked down at you. His voice, usually so measured and distant, softened as he replied, "My past is filled with mistakes, and with those I have loved and lost. I have lived countless lifetimes, seen the rise and fall of empires, and walked through the dreams of gods and mortals alike.”

He cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. "With every breath, every dream, and every waking moment, I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of the precious gift that is your love.”

Grabbing the lapens of his coat, you whispered against his lips, “You already are,” repeating the same words he had spoken to you in the castle's garden.

That revelatory moment was followed by a final return to your chambers, where Morpheus departed with a sweet kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone with your bittersweet thoughts. You slipped into your luxurious nightgown, its glittering fabric evoking the starry sky above and mirrored the opulence of the castle. Perched on the bed’s edge, you found yourself engrossed in contemplation, your familiar world now seeming oddly remote, as though it were a tale belonging to someone else.

It simply defied description. Your journey into the Dreaming had awakened something different in you, a newfound certainty that shattered your previous understanding of yourself. It felt as if your perception had expanded, your inner vision broadening to embrace new possibilities.

Sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to succumb to slumber. You wanted to memorize every detail of the view into your mind—the majestic mountains, the winding rivers, and the vast forests painting the ground with sprays of verdant colors. Drawn to the balcony, you rested your hands on the broad parapet, your eyes drinking in the landscape.

You knew, with dreadful certainty, that you'd miss every aspect of the Dreaming, down to the tiniest grain of sand.

Little did you know, Morpheus had kept an additional surprise under wraps.

“Y/N.”

He stood right behind you, his lips curving into a subtle smile as you swiveled to face him. Surprisingly, he had returned despite your assumption that he'd retired for the night to handle his responsibilities, only to reappear the next morning to escort you back to the Waking World.

Overjoyed, you rushed to him as if reuniting after a long separation. You flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your limbs around his neck and waist in an elated embrace.

Morpheus caught you smoothly, his cool, steady hands supporting your back. A soft chuckle escaped him as he cradled you close. “You were not expecting me.”

“No, I wasn’t. I thought you had work to do.”

"I do," he replied, setting you down on the floor, his fingers resting on your sides. "But I have a more pressing duty at the moment."

The Dreaming seemed to narrow, focusing solely on the two of you. "Really? Are you referring to me?"

"There is something I have prepared for you that you must see."

"Another surprise? You're officially spoiling me now."

"You deserve the entire universe to bend to your will."

"What use is the universe when I already have my wonderful Dream King?"

"Then, allow your king to present you with one final offering. Close your eyes."

He placed his palm on your temple, his fingertips lightly covering your eyes. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyelids and finding yourself enveloped in darkness. His touch was reassuring, a comforting presence in the void.

For a moment, you felt a subtle change in your environment. The air around you became salty and fresh, and the sound of crashing waves replaced the gentle flickering of burning lanterns.

"You can open them now, my love."

You complied, your trepidation mounting. As your vision cleared, you beheld one of the most sensational natural paradises, a scene you'd only glimpsed in documentaries and videos.

The ocean before you echoed the lake from your dream and the Greek pool in your bathroom. A distinctive blue bioluminescence formed along the shoreline, ebbing and flowing with each sinuous wave. The night sky displayed a mesmerizing array of moving galaxies, slowly swirling in a celestial loop.

"Morpheus... this is... it's not a new place, is it?"

"No," he confirmed, his voice deep and resonant. "This is your dream. I have restored it for you."

"You didn't merely restore it. You've enhanced it beyond my wildest imagination."

"Does it please you?"

“It’s perfect.”

Your voice quivered with emotion, and you made no attempt to conceal your feelings from him. The realization that he had taken the time to recreate your beach, amidst his countless duties, sent your heart racing to heights you feared might be difficult to reclaim.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, his breath whispering against your ear as he held you securely from behind. Leaning into his form, you delighted in the velvety sand under your feet.

You remained like that for a while, enveloped in serene silence, listening to the calming pulse of the waves. Morpheus' fingertips traced delicate paths along your arms as he placed feather-light kisses on your neck. His lips traveled lower, brushing against your shoulder, causing the thin strap of your nightgown to slip off. It rested loosely on your upper arm, revealing part of your chest while maintaining modesty.

Nevertheless, it was clear his intentions surpassed merely showcasing a reconstructed dream. His touch was intentional, his breath growing deeper and more impassioned.

You let him proceed, welcoming his hands as they explored your body. One palm moved across your stomach, while the other toyed with the delicate strap of your nightgown, now resting precariously on your arm. His lips found the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, leaving another trail of kisses that expressed his fondness for you.

Your breath quickened as he pulled you close. His fingers curled around the fabric of your nightgown just above your pubic bone, tortuously grazing the edge of your clit without quite reaching it. The gentle brush of silk against your skin caused your nipples to harden, heightening your sensitivity to his every gesture.

"My love," he uttered softly. "I wish to make your final night in my realm unforgettable."

You swallowed hard, a new rush of desire instantly coursing through your veins.

"Permit me to embrace you wholly, to delve into the depths of our connection in ways yet unexplored.”

Unexplored…?

"Allow me to worship you in a manner that truly honors your worth."

Undoubtedly, that was the most eloquent and heartfelt way anyone could express their longing for intimacy with their beloved.

"I was already convinced the moment you brought me here, but please, don't stop with these beautiful words."

His breath caressed the nape of your neck, a subtle sign of his amusement. "You do relish having your king plead for your attention."

"Well, you've uncovered my secret," you said with a smirk. "But I have to say, I adore the sound of your voice."

“My voice?”

"You could say the most outlandish statement imaginable, and I'd still be on my knees for you."

As his fingertips traced along your bare shoulder, a delicious shiver ran down your spine. “Then you shall hear it as often as you require, for you are the only one to whom I wish to speak so freely.”

"I mean, I'd prefer those words be reserved solely for me, anyway."

"The words I speak, the things I feel, they are only for you.”

You turned your head, looking at him with wide, loving eyes. "I fell head over heels for you when you were still confined to that sphere. But I'm sure you're well aware of that."

Despite his omniscience, Morpheus seemed to ponder your confession, his face a canvas of curiosity and wonder. "Were you truly?"

"You didn't know? I thought it was rather obvious.”

"I was aware of the possibility, yet the full realization that your heart had already pledged itself to me eluded my grasp."

You melted against his chest, your fingers intertwining with his. "You were my anchor during the darkest times, and that's not an exaggeration."

The strap slid further down, leaving your breast nearly exposed.

"You saw me, even then. When I was trapped, powerless... you looked upon me with love, when I could give you nothing in return.”

Shaking your head, you spoke with a soft but resolute voice. "You gave me far more than you realize."

“How?”

"How could you not? Your eyes, your strength, your grace… it was all there, Morpheus. Even in silence.”

With gentle precision, he lowered the other strap. Though no words were exchanged, your silent consent had already been given, rendering his actions both accepted and awaited.

"I know you probably want to forget your time in captivity, but to me, you were incredibly beautiful. I wanted to set you free, to show you the respect they'd denied a god of your stature."

The top of your nightgown fell away, exposing your chest and gathering around your waist.

"Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel like I haven't done enough."

"It was your kindness that became my true escape," he intoned, his fingers easing the fabric down your sides. "You cared, even when I was not your responsibility."

"I wish I could have been there for you when they captured you. When they hurt you."

It was astonishing to think that during those events, you had not yet come into existence.

“If I were to endure another eternity of confinement, I would do so willingly, without hesitation, if it meant having just one moment with you by my side.”

The nightgown dropped to the sand, leaving you practically bare, clad only in delicate, lacy cotton undergarments.

"In all the time I have existed, I have known many things; creation, destruction, endless cycles of time and change. One moment with you eclipses the eternity I have lived, and I would sacrifice a thousand more eternities for a single heartbeat in your presence.”

Smiling, you stepped out of the nightgown and gently nudged it aside with your foot. Even crumpled on the beach, it remained a spectacular sight, its starry fabric seeming to have a life of its own.

"Well, let's hope you're never imprisoned again. I much prefer you free and close to me."

"I have no desire to be anywhere else but here with you.”

You hummed appreciatively, feeling a pleasant tremor as his palms moved up and down your stomach, teasing at the curve of your breasts, leaving them achingly untouched.

Then, something unexpected occurred. The sand around you began to rise, forming undulating, snake-like shapes that slithered up your ankles, calves, and thighs. As the grains coalesced into two sandy hands, you startled slightly at the unexpected intrusion.

“Ah—”

"Shh," he soothed. "Fear not. Every part of this realm is an extension of myself."

The newly formed hands, perfect replicas of Morpheus', skillfully caressed your skin. They delicately explored the line of your inner thighs, reaching the lace edges of your underwear. As they touched the fabric, it began to dissolve into nothingness, like wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.

"Does this discomfort you, my love?" I will cease if you wish it so."

It was unfamiliar, certainly not something you'd ever imagined in your fantasies. Yet, as you found yourself completely exposed, handled with such gentleness by Morpheus and those peculiar appendages made of sand, you couldn't deny the allure of your situation.

"No, it doesn't. In fact, I think I like it."

The touch was unmistakably his, belonging to Morpheus alone.

"Let my realm witness your magnificence in your entirety," he said huskily. "Let the Dreaming become one with you."

Fully unclothed, your body responded to the intimate atmosphere. Your nipples hardened into taut peaks, while your aroused clitoris emerged from its delicate folds, reminiscent of a flower in full bloom.

The ethereal hands drifted upward, skimming over your hipbones before trailing their fingers across your upper abdomen. This time, they continued to your breasts, cupping them with a soft squeeze and creating an immediate friction against your nipples.

More hands emerged from the beach, steadying your legs as they threatened to buckle beneath you. Morpheus' solid form melded with your back, his physical hands remaining still. The Dreaming itself, an extension of its master's will, came alive with purpose, its magical touch caressing your skin with a gentleness that belied its nature. As the boundary between Morpheus and his domain blurred, you found yourself immersed in a torrent of sensations, each grain of sand, each whisper of wind, an instrument in this symphony of ecstasy orchestrated by the Dream King himself.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your chest heaving as the sandy fingers performed a synchronized dance around your nipples. Your hips shook and swayed, seeking more stimulation, while your lower body yearned for something that remained elusive. Your clit throbbed as the cool air blew over it, while waves of pleasure emanated from those dreamy hands, sending tingles through your limbs and causing your muscles to ache.

"M-Morpheus," you gasped.

“My love?”

“Please… touch me…”

Your desperation had grown with surprising speed, bordering on shameful. Yet, when it came to the Endless, your self-restraint evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

He breathed into your ear. "I already am."

Ah, so he wanted to play that game now.

"Are you really going to feign ignorance about my meaning?"

"No. I would never leave my precious queen wanting."

Queen? Oh my. He certainly knew which buttons to push.

"You wouldn't, would you? Then, please."

As the sandy hands continued their sensual ministrations on your breasts, Morpheus' fingers skimmed down to your upper thighs. He kept them there, motionless, teasing you with their proximity to your most sensitive area and leaving you writhing for more.

"However, I must confess—I find pleasure in witnessing your insatiable hunger for me, my sweet."

Your sharp intake of breath punctuated his effect on you. "Well then, Your Majesty, what's it going to be?"

"I could grant your wish. Perhaps I will. But I am quite certain you possess the strength to resist it."

Ugh.

“Morpheus, I swear—”

"I could leave you here, at the mercy of my realm, watching you from afar. Admire your body writhing in pleasure and need for me."

As he continued his speech, the hands intensified their movements. Your nipples were pinched and flicked, while your entire body was covered by rivulets of golden sand.

“Don’t you dare—”

“—But I shall not.”

Morpheus grew bolder, his fingertips delicately brushing your sensitive folds, parting them with exquisite care. He exposed your clit to the cool ocean breeze, unveiling it like a pearl freed from its shell, as if the sea itself were a silent, mesmerized spectator.

"You're lucky I can't conjure extra limbs," you quipped.

“Or what?”

"You'd find yourself stripped naked in a heartbeat."

He loved every moment, each playful remark, every gasp, moan, and whimper that fell from your lips.

"But tonight, my love, is not about me."

"I don't care. You're breathtaking. I don’t need an excuse to crave the sight of you."

“Beauty is not something often attributed to me.”

You giggled as he began to lower you, all hands maneuvering your form onto a perfect sandy cushion. "You may not be typically described using human aesthetics, but you are beautiful, Morpheus. Not just in appearance, though that's undeniable. It's in the way you move, how your presence transforms the world around you, like an interplay of shadows and light."

He opened his legs, enveloping your smaller figure as he settled onto the shore, his arms encircling your waist. Only two of the sandy extensions remained, continuing to caress and fondle your chest, while those around your legs dissipated.

"B-but more than that, it's what I see when you're not trying to be the Lord of Dreams. When you're just... you. The way you care, the way you protect, the way you love.”

Finally, you yielded to the moment, settling against his torso as you spread your thighs. His fingers, at last, found their way to their eagerly awaited destination.

"You perceive more of me than anyone ever has," he said. "Perhaps I am as you describe, because I reflect what I see in you."

With masterful skill, he teased your clit in a slow, light stroke that transported you into a state of blissful rapture.

"Every part of you is a masterpiece," he whispered reverently. "Surrender yourself to me, my love. I will treasure it all."

A moan escaped your lips as your nails dug into the sand. His touch quickened, gathering your wetness and creating a perfect, slick stimulation that brought you closer to the edge. Your nipples throbbed and tingled, while Morpheus' unmistakable arousal pressed firmly against your back through his trousers.

"Don't stop," you begged, your voice thick with urgency. "I'm so close."

“I will not. Let me feel it.”

His fingers accelerated, tracing tight circles around your swollen bud. Simultaneously, the additional hands on your breasts tightened their grip and kneaded, causing your hips to buck wildly as his fingers pressed harder against your sensitive flesh. Pressure built to a crescendo, threatening to crash over you at any moment.

The familiar tension in your lower abdomen coiled tightly, ready to unravel. You draped one leg over his thigh, which he supported firmly, holding you in place.

“Ngh—you’re so good. Please, please, please—oh!”

It was indescribable, unprecedented, exceptional, unmatched.

Your orgasm struck you like a thunderstorm, so powerful that you felt certain your shudders and spasms would ripple through the entire Dreaming. The hands made of sand released you, dissolving and streaming down as the grains returned to their original form. Morpheus' fingers persisted, scarcely slowing their pace, continuing their relentless stroke even as the electric current of your climax began to ebb.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, his fingers offered a few final, gentle caresses to your sensitive clit before coming to rest. He remained there, unmoving, allowing you to catch your ragged breath in the sanctuary of his arms.

Morpheus consistently made you feel secure, completely at ease with yourself and your surroundings. He effortlessly maintained an atmosphere of naturalness and comfort, perfectly attuned to your needs.

You rolled onto your side, disentangling yourself, and swept your hand across his chest before letting it drift up to touch his face. He smiled tenderly, drawing you closer as he affectionately pressed his forehead against yours.

"That was incredible," you breathed. "Absolutely mind-blowing."

"You truly inspire my creativity to reach new heights."

"Are you saying I could expect a full doppelgänger of you made of sand next?"

"If that is your wish, I could certainly arrange it for you."

You chuckled. "As great as this was, I prefer the original you over any replicas."

You initiated a kiss, which he reciprocated with ardent devotion.

"Speaking of which," you purred, breaking the contact. "I believe someone's eagerly **awaiting attention," you added with a grin.

Your hand trailed downward, touching the firm outline of his erection constrained within his black trousers. Morpheus held perfectly still, aquamarine eyes meeting your own, as he anticipated your next move.

You unfastened the button and zipper, carefully lowering his garments as much as his seated position allowed. As his hardness sprang free from its restraints, you let out a smug "Ooh," followed by a flirtatious "Hello." It was rather comical, to the point that even Morpheus, who seldom laughed and rarely joked, seemed genuinely entertained by your reaction.

There was no mischief, however, as you found genuine happiness even in your most intimate situations. Gently wrapping your hand around his tip and sliding it along his length, you stifled your giggles against his clothed chest.

"And you claimed you could leave me here and watch. Yet look at yourself now."

"I am not human. My capacity for restraint far exceeds that of mortal men."

You nodded. "True. But could you really just stand there and watch me without taking action?"

“…No.”

You were beaming, catching your breath, before giving Morpheus one confident, rather audacious lick along his neck, swiping your tongue over his pronounced Adam's apple. "Oh, Dream Lord, the things you do to me."

"I am here to offer you everything, and to receive all that you wish to give me."

Without releasing your grip on his manhood, you shifted onto your knees, steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder. "How would you prefer to take me, my love?" you asked, your desire for him resurging in your core.

He grasped your waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. "I wish to have you in every way conceivable," he said in a low voice. "But for now, I'd like you to turn around and position yourself on all fours."

His commanding tone sent a thrill through you, quickening your pulse. You pivoted and settled onto your hands and knees enthusiastically, presenting your body to him like a precious prize, one he had rightfully earned and deeply deserved.

You could feel his piercing scrutiny, the rustle of his clothes as he adjusted his stance, and his long digits traversing your outer thighs.

"Your beauty rivals the stars above and surpasses the splendor of the ocean before us."

His rigid length pressed against your slick folds. "Be my light, tonight and for eternity."

Then, he fully sank in, his impressive length stretching and filling you completely. Your bodies merged in perfect unison, a testament to your physical and emotional compatibility.

“Yes!!”

Your response erupted as a strangled cry, both answering his words and reacting to the way your body accommodated him. You clenched around him instinctively, jerking forward as he began to move. He slipped in and out of you with a passion that spoke of a century of starvation, you were already primed and ready for him to claim you, requiring no further preparation.

The wet sounds of skin meeting skin, punctuated by the slick noises of his thrusts, blended perfectly with the pulsing sea waves. The shore shimmered and glowed, as if echoing the cadence of a heartbeat.

You pushed yourself up, remaining on your knees as your arms sought his form, your face turning to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your tongues entwined as your lips collided, fitting together like two halves of a whole. Sighs and more laughter mingled with your breathless encouragement for more. His satisfaction was evident in the darkening sparkle of his eyes, the open grin that graced his face, and the impossible growth of his hardness in you.

His hands cradled your breasts before gliding downward again. You invoked his name repeatedly, shaking and shouting in total bliss, your throat almost burning from the exertion. Your clit quivered with pleasure the moment he pinched it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers like a delicate knob.

"So good!" you exclaimed breathlessly. "I love you so much!"

"Your love is my lifeblood, matched only by the infinite depths of my devotion to you."

"More, please! Harder!"

He doubled his efforts, each powerful thrust accompanied by a deep groan, synchronizing with the relentless waves crashing even faster against the shore. The second orgasm built up so quickly that you wished you could prolong the tension, but judging by the way he throbbed against your core, you could tell that Morpheus was teetering on the edge right along with you.

A few more thrusts, coupled with the deft twirling of his fingers around your clit, were all it took to send you to the moon and back a second time. It was explosive, earth-shattering, and all-consuming.

Morpheus followed suit, his rhythm becoming erratic before he released himself into your depths with a guttural groan. His body shuddered and stilled as he reached his climax, his hands clutching your hips as he breathed in the intoxicating scent of your hair.

Even a being as powerful as him found himself vulnerable and defenseless before your charm.

He had given you the stars, quite literally. He incorporated you into his realm as an essential element, as if its very existence hinged on your presence there.

"You belong to me," he proclaimed, unfurling his coat and enveloping you in a protective cocoon as you collapsed onto his chest. "No one else will ever claim you or know you as I do. Your heart, your very dreams... they are mine alone."

His possessiveness surfaced, and you curled up close to him, his coat enveloping you like a warm, soothing bath. "I would never want to belong to anyone else, Morpheus. And you... you are mine too, right?"

It was a daring question, but one you had every right to ask.

“You hold my heart. In every way that matters, yes: I am yours.”

Your smile radiated as brightly as the luminescent ocean. Relaxing into Morpheus's arms, you were lulled by the natural melodies surrounding you, feeling his essence trickling out of your opening. You found it neither unpleasant nor embarrassing, but rather a fundamental aspect of your intimate bond that you hoped would endure forever.

Imperceptibly, you drifted into slumber protected by the Sandman himself, as if suspended amidst stardust. As the night progressed, Morpheus gently carried you back to your king-sized bed, your nightgown magically restored to its proper place on you.

Your skin was immaculate, clean and smooth, notwithstanding all the sand that had previously covered it.

For the first time, he stayed with you, seated on the edge of the mattress, observing your form in reverent silence. His gaze traced your angelic face framed by silken tresses as your head rested on the pillow, your chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The moonstone gleamed in his presence, a unique token he could never craft for anyone else. The knowledge that you carried a part of him with you filled Morpheus with profound joy.

Out of the stillness, Astra appeared from the shadows, his hooves barely making a sound as he approached the bed. The delicate glow of the green patterns on his fur illuminated the space around you, casting a soft light on your sleeping figure. Morpheus watched as Astra lowered his muzzle to you, his warm breath brushing against your hand.

"Her presence in the Dreaming... it's unlike anything I've witnessed since you created me," he said. "She enhances everything here. Every corner of this realm, every dream, every creation you've ever made… they all respond to her, as if she breathes life into them."

Morpheus's eyes flickered contemplatively as he listened, attention drawn to you again. You stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously reached for the Dreamstone around your neck.

"She is no ordinary mortal," Astra continued, taking a step closer to Morpheus. "A unique aura emanates from her, and I believe it is her love for you. It permeates everything she touches."

Morpheus inclined his head in agreement. Since your arrival, the Dreaming's familiar landscapes had undergone a subtle transformation. Initially, the change was so slight that it escaped his notice, but as you rested, your body radiated an unmistakable energy, enveloping both him and Astra in its protective shield.

"I have noticed it," Morpheus replied, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "She is unlike any being I have encountered in all my existence."

Astra took another step, his glassy eyes softening as he looked back at you. "She is bound to this realm in ways that neither you nor I may fully comprehend yet."

Morpheus's fingers clenched briefly before relaxing. "She is leaving soon," he answered quietly, more to himself than to Astra. "But the Dreaming will always be a part of her. And she of it."

"Some bonds transcend severance, impervious to time or the barriers between worlds."

His emotions were conflicted—saddened by your impending departure, yet astounded by the impact you'd had on him and his domain. You had wielded the extraordinary ability to shape not only his heart, but the intrinsic character of the Dreaming along with it. How could someone as precious as you love him so deeply and unconditionally?

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented revelation. For the first time in eons, he grasped the significance of sharing the Dreaming with another being, of unveiling his true self and all he possessed. This revelation surpassed any insight he'd gained from past loves, be it Nada, Alianora, or Calliope.

His mistakes were indelible, and their consequences irreparable. But your gentleness was immeasurable and irreplaceable, your wisdom a fount from which even Morpheus himself could learn. You were extraordinary, delicate yet powerful, so intensely significant to him that Morpheus understood he had never loved anyone as strongly as he had fallen for you.

Losing you would threaten to leave an unfathomable void in his existence, potentially shattering him beyond imagination. Your absence would leave him utterly bereft.

"While she resides with us, my Lord, this realm thrives in ways even you did not foresee.”

Morpheus could only concur with his own creation's perceptive observation. He vowed to cherish every moment of your time together, knowing that your impact on his world, and his heart, would endure long after your return to your world.

For as long as eternity would allow him to adore you.

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

[tj-dragonblade]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @seiya-starsniper and @delta-pavonis - thank you! I have been working on three different wips the last couple of days so two tags, two snippets, both from bingo fics:

For the trapped in the frequency square, which is turning out very dry in the drafting:

His missing arcana and the existence of a dream vortex and the damage to his realm, they wear on him. He is stymied in his function, faced with questions and reminders of his absence at every turn, authority slipping through his fingers unexpectedly and leaving him off-balance, overly-harsh in his insistence that he knows what is best. When he discovers a ghost living in his realm and a child conceived of its presence, he is tired. The emotions that rise in the aftermath of evicting Lyta Hall and her dead husband, of Rose denouncing him, they leave him aching for some unspoken solace, and it is Hob and his welcoming smile that rise in his memory again.

But that is not their story, to seek comfort in one another's presence during hardship, and he has other matters still to attend to. He owes an apology to Lucienne; he has been intractable and unkind in his dealings with her, undeservedly. She is gracious in accepting, and brings with her good news in the form of Fiddler's Green, and then he is left with one more wayward nightmare to deal with and a vortex whom he must kill.

He is grateful, that it does not come to that; grateful that Lucienne and Unity Kincaid bring him an alternative solution at the very last moment. Their solution brings answers that enrage him, that wound deep to the core of him, and again, he finds himself wishing, when all is said and done and his sibling has been warned, to sit with his friend and share his tribulations.

It is an absurd wish, for again—that is not their story. Why does he yearn so strongly for a thing they have never had?

Hob would commiserate in his displeasure, he is somehow certain.

But it is not yet 2089.

And for the roleplay square, the fabulous @abyssalcryptid has given us this and this very inspiring (and nsfw) art, and I am drifting a little from the given visuals but they were the springboard for some student-seduces-teacher roleplay smut all the same:

"Spread your legs, sweetheart, lean back in my lap and stroke your pretty cock for me, show me how you do it when you fantasize about me—"

Dream obeys, hooking his stockinged legs over either of Hob's on the outside, bites his lip to catch a whimper at how it shifts him on Hob's dick. He leans back against Hob's chest with a little whine, tips his head onto Hob's shoulder, and Hob can't help pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Like this, Professor?" Dream asks, sounding just the right amount of breathless while both hands slide down his own body, one reaching to crumple the black plaid skirt up out of the way and the other grasping his cock. He arches against Hob with a moan at his own touch, and Hob brushes another kiss to his cheek, a bit breathless himself.

"Yeah, sweetheart, just like that," he murmurs, lacing the fingers of one hand with Dream's where it's gripped tight in the fabric of the skirt. "And this time, it really is me inside you, you don't have to pretend—"

Dream clenches around him, squirms as he strokes himself slowly, hesitantly, like he's shy about it; he's panting the sweetest little noises and Hob murmurs encouragement, runs his free hand up Dream's bare stomach, over the knot of his unbuttoned blouse and slips beneath it, searching out a nipple. He finds it covered by a layer of lace, and tuts his approval next to Dream's ear at the discovery. "Oh, love, you've dressed up so pretty for me, top to bottom, haven't you," he coos, enchanted. It shouldn't be as much of a turn on as it is, not when he's already seen the stockings and the shoes, when the black lace panties are on the floor at their feet, but knowing there's more to see under the saucy little shirt when they get there, that Dream's gone all-out on playing this scenario to the hilt, is just. So hot.

"Yes," Dream gasps, his strokes growing more confident. "It's all for you, I needed you to want—to want me as much as I want you—" He's squirming beautifully as Hob's fingertips trace over his nipple through the lace. "Professor—please—"

"You've no idea how much I want you, darling," he breathes, nibbling at Dream's earlobe, his cock throbbing in the warm sheath of Dream's arse. He spreads his legs wider, Dream's legs opening further with the motion and Dream gasps a soft cry at the shift, fist moving steadily over his cock, head arching back on Hob's shoulder. "Every day, I see you in class and I'm supposed to focus and teach? When all I want to do is lay you out naked on my desk and swallow your prick, turn you over and lick you open, fuck you with my tongue until you're good and ready to take my cock? Torture."

Tagging, no obligation, tag me in your existing post if you've just done it and I missed it: @kydrogendragon , @ralkana, @the-apocrypha, @five-and-dimes, @aquilathefighter, @teejaystumbles

[neytui]

I've finally made a Redbubble and more designs!! Now with Desire, Death, The Corinthian and Lucienne, u can go check them out and get your own

[teejaystumbles]

1889 drabble

Continuing from this post

~ Time goes by faster after that. Burgess grants him a few days to get his bearings and strength back.

Hob gets a room - with barred windows, but with a bed, a bath and food and drink. He takes full advantage of everything Burgess offers, if only to make him think him a grateful fool. Better the man thinks his will broken, Hob muses. It will make playing him a lot easier. And so he puts on a meak demeanor and shows respect, as if he's afraid to go back to the cellar. He is, but not as much as he lets Burgess believe - or so he tells himself. The first nights in a bed in over a month have him dreaming repeatedly about Burgess with a dozen arms, every one carrying a knife, coming for him from all sides, cutting out parts of him, labeling them after careful inspection while he chokes on his blood. Every night he jolts awake with a scream and lies awake for the rest of the night, terrified.

~

"My Lord. Don't you think it is time to check on..."

"Lucienne." he warns, but she huffs and continues brusquely: "With all due respect, sir, I believe whatever it is your... acquaintance and you have argued about, you will not like the fact that his dreams are-"

"ENOUGH!" Thunder rolls through the throne room as the Dream Lord rises to a fearsome height to tower over his librarian.

"Must I forbid you from touching his books? Or will you stop speaking about this like I ordered you?" Dream seethes. Lucienne stares back at him in defiance. She clutches a book to her chest. He grabs at it.

"Give that to me. You will not talk about him to me again, have I made myself clear?"

She releases the book and Dream pulls it from her hands and throws it behind himself onto the steps of his throne.

"Yes, my lord." Lucienne grits her teeth and stalks out without his leave. He lets her go.

The book has fallen open on its latest page onto the steps and Dream gives it a dark look, contemplating setting it on fire. Destroying a dreamer's book would be equal to erasing part of their memory, though, and so he holds himself back. Despite himself he steps closer to the book and a few words catch his eye.

be safe

Dream frowns and finally picks up the linen-bound tome and reads the latest dream thoughts of Hob Gadling.

I can endure. I can endure anything as long as you are safe. Please be safe. I don't care if you'll never see me as more than a peasant, but I can't bear to think of what they'd do to you if they catch you.

I'm running. I've been running towards you all my life. Is it still far? How much farther must I go? Where are you? If I stop he'll catch me. If I stop he'll cut me open. I don't know what to tell him. I've told him all I know, all I've learned over the centuries, but I haven't told him about you. He wants to know more. He wants to cut the secret out of me. The knifes are everywhere, they reflect in his eyes when he asks me how I am not dead yet, again, again, and I say I don't know. I am running. If I reach you, will he catch you, too? Don't let me reach you then. Don't let him catch you. I can endure.

Dream's hand shakes and he almost drops the book. He grabs it tightly and flicks back through the pages quickly. Dream after dream, nightmares really, have Hob running and falling, terror and pain spilling from his words. And interspersed with them, again and again, are pleas addressed to Dream (he knows, even without his name), but not for his help, no, but for his safety, to not fall into the same trap as Hob.

You can be hurt, or captured.

Dream has sunk to the stairs while reading and the light in the throne room has gone dim and reddish. He closes the book with a thud and stares at the golden thread stitched across its cover.

Robert Gadling - Dream Journal 1889-present

Dream presses his lips into a tight line and puts the book into his coat. Then he rises and steps towards a small side door, opening it to the library (he is impatient and so the library is right behind this door at this moment). His librarian is nowhere to be seen but he speaks into the library anyway, knowing she will hear it.

"Lucienne. I..." he searches for words but can't bring himself to voice an apology. "I acknowledge that your concern towards a certain dreamer seems justified. I will attend to the matter in the waking world. Please send Jessamy if there is any urgent business."

He doesn't wait for an answer and steps back into his throne room. He pulls out his pouch and pours sand into the air to form a portal.

I can endure. Please be safe.

He pulls on his helmet and steps through the portal with clenched fists.

[itskindofidontknow]

What dreams know about love?

Chapter 10

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

TW: mentions of suicide

”My Lady!” Elijah grabbed Eoster by her arm after she stumbled upon her own feet. “I am fine! I am fine!” The Queen raised both arms, so the Cupid could get away from her. I took her a few seconds so her head could stop spinning around. Elijah looked to both sides of the empty marbled hallway, and anxiously took a glance of the hours at the main clock. They were lucky Morpheus didn't show up to pick her up and go to Lord Destiny’s realm.

The Cupid has been cold sweating since he woke the queen from her bath. She passed out drunk, noticeable thanks to the five bottles on the floor that he almost stepped on. They were small, like syrup bottles, and earlier, were probably full of wine. Eoster kept the drawers on her vanity and under the bed, full of them. Easier to hide from her husband that kept nagging her about her alcohol consumption and from Lucienne, that would definitely snitch on her. She knew the librarian meant well, but the librarian also didn’t fully know the pains the Queen had to soothe.

In one of her hands dangled another small glass bottle very similar to the other ones, but that was half-filled with a white milky liquid. Night blooming jasmine’s milk. ‘Great’ Elijah ironically thought to himself. She woke up in a jump, as the bottle slipped from her hands. Not that it helped, since she was completely dizzy, partially awake but not able to hold herself. The cupid had to carry her out of the bathtub and dress her like a doll. It took more than usual, after all, Eoster kept snoozing and falling to the sides of her chair. By this hour, Elijah was already sweating. He was perfectly aware that those Endless reunions were a stressful event to the king, and if he was stressed, he was in a bad mood. And if he was in a bad mood, everyone, especially his wife, suffered from it. And she would soothe her suffering on wine, and now, night blooming jasmine.

The whole situation with Lord Destruction didn’t help. There were rumors about the Harvest. He didn’t hear nor ask Lady Eoster, but he overheard the dreamaids gossiping about it. Apparently the Dream King saw something that no one could yet tell, between his wife and his brother, that made him indescribably jealous, and they had a fallout after the party. Of course, Elijah cut those rumors as fast as he could. He wouldn’t have those nosy maids spread rumors about his queen’s faithfulness in marriage. The cupid obviously didn’t believe that anything could have happened.

If his lady was having a sordid affair with her brother-in-law, she would’ve asked for his help in covering it and she would probably be happier and giggling.

Like mortals do when they are trapped in unhappy marriages and live forbidden affairs.

A knock on the door came just as he was trying to put her hair in place. His queen was mumbling a thousand subjects at once, none of which made sense. He responded with robotic ‘uh-uhs’ and ‘yes, of course’ and ‘no, of course’. Elijah waited a second before opening a small crack of the door, taking a deep breath and fixing his face, to not look like he was freaking out. “Yes?” He spied over the small opening, not wanting anyone to see his queen.

”Is our lady ready yet?” Lucienne frowned and tried to stepped inside, hoping Elijah would open the door, but the cupid didn’t move. “ Almost.-“He pretended he didn’t see that she was bothered by the small window she had to talk to. He rolled his eyes in annoyance “These things take time, Lucienne. It’s not just a black robe and black shoes. I am certain you can understand...”The cupid said as a toll to the king and looked the librarian up and down “In some capacity.” He smirked as the librarian shifted the weight of her feet, feeling a bit self-conscious about something she didn’t actually care about.

That was something she hated about the Cupid: He’d always make her feel self-aware about things she didn’t care about or wasn't at all important. Clothes, social agendas, complicated protocols and confusing etiquettes and hierarchies from the Garden. Some, she never got the answer for: Why did Lady Eoster needed more than five maids? Why did she need maids at all? And why did she need a room just for her attires? Why did she had protégées, entities from other realms, living in her own realm? And Elijah was not very helpful in making her understand any of this.

”She is not…is she?” Lucienne whispered, the Queen's likeness for wine or any beverage was becoming a small inconvenience to Dream, which meant it was a huge trouble for Lucienne and the palace staff. It was becoming more frequent to find the Queen passed out in the palace. Usually the library. But Lucienne and Mervyn caught her previously asleep in her private garden, during her daily baths, at the dinner table, after waiting awake for Morpheus, at her bedroom, half her body on the bed half on the floor. Usually a small bottle hanging loose from her fingers. Lucienne had no idea where she was getting them, and Elijah always played dumb. She knew he might think he was helping, but if he saw how Lord Morpheus got when he noticed she was drunk. He wouldn’t encourage her to keep drinking.

Elijah sembled darkened. He absolutely did not accept any dream creature, not even a right-hand librarian like Lucienne, to talk about his queen and her bad habits, that, as a matter of fact, her king was responsible for. She wouldn’t have to drink this much if he didn’t make her life a nightmare. The cupid knew the dreamfolk didn’t have the same etiquette as the lovefolk, but he didn’t care, it was unacceptable to question it. It was fine for him to inform them about her state. Not otherwise.

She tried to take a look over Elijah’s shoulder. Even though he knew she couldn’t see much, he moved, trying to cover any glance those librarian’s glasses could have. “The Queen is perfectly fine. Why don’t you go see if the King is throwing a tantrum on the other side of the palace? He may need you to dust off the rest of some nightmare he sent to the darkness.” He sarcastically smirked, before closing the door in her face, not waiting for the moral lesson about his audacity in speaking like that about his king.

Well, she was the one who started. Asking intrusive impolite questions that happened to be true.

With Eoster ready, dressed in her long sheer white dress, with a see through cape brocaded in a pattern of constellations, and a high updo, locking all her curls in a tight hairstyle with a delicate silver tiara, the fluster in her cheeks could pass by rouge, Elijah hoped. What couldn’t be hidden was her uneven walk, tripping on her feet, stumbling on the walls. Before they left the room, Elijah gave her a morning jasmine tea. The tea was supposed to alleviate the drunkness, but its effects could not take longer to come.

”Lady Love, there you are!” The cupid froze in place, as he heard the fast-pace walk of Lucienne, turning over his shoulder getting a glimpse of the librarian with the king walking behind her. Elijah looked at his queen, desperately trying to fix her hair and her clothes. Love was a drunk but she was a very dignified drunk. She snapped his hands away.”Elijah. I am fine.” She said, looking a bit more sober than before. Fixing her posture and enterwinding her fingers against her dress, as her husband approach. “He can’t tell the difference anyway.” She whispered with melancholy, passing through the cupid, going from his arms, to Morpheus, who barely batted an eye at her.

Elijah however felt a sting in his heart. What a bittersweet life must be to be with someone that doesn’t know you at all, to the extent, they can’t even tell if you are sober or beyond drunk. The Cupid could take one quick look at his Queen and know if she was sober, drunk, contempt, or sad. Of course he wouldn't expect her husband to be so observant after all, Eoster and her Cupid share a bond beyond any true marriage. The king also seemed to want as little as possible to know his wife. Not getting to know her, her realm.

Both Elijah and Lucienne stayed behind, with their hands behind their backs, as two parents seeing their children leave for school, as the couple went their way and disappeared in Morpheus’ sand.

”For your information, he wasn’t throwing a tantrum.”The Librarian said it proudly, without looking at him. Elijah rolled his eyes, sighing, with a swirl he turned his heels looking over his shoulder and down at the woman who was a good few inches shorter than him “For your information, she is drunk.”

——————— Eoster was a wreck. She looked very curated but she felt awful inside. Those night blooming jasmines mixed with wine made her sleep dreamless, but also impossible to rest. Her mind was tired and her body exhausted. Pretending not to be, was even worse. She stumbled for the third time during their silent walk through Lord Destiny’s garden, each time Morpheus had his grip on her, but each time, she seemed closer to knocking her face on the ground. He wasn’t going to say anything for Dream knew how reactive she got when she was drunk. Oh, yes. Different from what Elijah and Love assumed, he could perfectly tell when she was out of herself: The numbness and distraction in her eyes, the way her walk was light and unbalanced.

That didn’t bother Morpheus at all, Love could drink all the winery if she pleased. That is if the alcohol didn’t also free her suffocated regrets and repressed emotions, and made her desperate to share her own personal drama with everyone around her.

It didn’t happen when she was tipsy, like she was in most reunions. But especially today, she was far beyond tipsy. Morpheus cursed himself and her damn cupid. He should have obliged the pair to have Lucienne overseeing her preparations.

”If I may, my lady, you might want to have a light evening.” Morpheus stoically said, his eyes upfront. He wanted her to think this was a suggestion of a husband taking care of his wife's health. But Love scoffed, interpreting this as it was: An order to not drink. Well she had enough of her husband’s little orders. She was not Lucienne. “Yes, husband. I do need a light evening.” She sighed covering her mouth in a fake yawn. “I have not been sleeping well, maybe you can even help me, husband. You see, ever since the Second Harvest I’ve been waking in the middle of night panting and flushed, aching inside, my nightgown completely soaked, and I can’t remember what I was dreaming.” She could feel his stiffness under her touch. She knew it bothered him because he hadn’t been able to sniff around her dreams. “ But worry not, one thing I am certain is: It has nothing to do with you….” She signed, pretending to be bored “Maybe something with your brother.” Love knew she was poking a delicate topic at the wrong moment, all the fake hints of lately having wet dreams.

Little did he know she was not dreaming at all.

If Love’s sober self tried her best to not step on her husband’s toes, to not get in his bad mood, her drunk self made it her personal mission to antagonize him at every single opportunity she could. Completely ignoring the signs to be quiet and remember her place, rolling her eyes, like a petulant spoiled child, saying the first provocation that would pop into her mouth.

He angrily dropped her arm, and in a sudden movement, putting her against a wall, towering over Love, and holding her by the pulses along her body, as she stumbled back, hitting the wall beside her, her chest going up and down, struggling to free from his grip, not liking to feel trapped by her husband. He was too close, it sent goosebumps over her spine. He stared deeply into her eyes, sternly looking at her dilated green iris. “Your drinking is not of my business, but do not embarrass me tonight.” Love swallowed hard, a glimpse of sobriety into her eyes, as she failed to push her arm away from him again “Save your orders for you mistress! And you are perfectly capable of embarrassing yourself.” She spitefully said.

Morpheus never laid a hand on her, he might be emotionally abusive but never physical. He was a gentleman, to a certain extent. But even with this in mind, she couldn’t help but feel frightened. He was already angry with her, before today, and she was only fueling it. It took everything in her to stare back at him in defiance, her inebriated state giving her the courage to. “Oh brother, can’t you keep your hands off your wife for one night? What Destiny would say?” That sweet stick voice made the couple turn to the sibling.

Desire was meaningly teasing, very aware that Dream and Love were not in the middle of a romance. The couple was used to it, but it didn’t mean that they liked it. It was among their favorite activities to make fun of the misery of the couple.

”Desire.” Dream acknowledged his sibling, not moving away from his wife, Love slightly lowered her head in respect. “Look at you, Love Dove, all flushed.” Desire gave her a cheshire grin, which she ignored, turning her eyes to the floor, feeling her cheeks grow red, as she finally took advantage of her husband’s distraction and twisted both arms away from him. “Excuse me.” the brunette said it, eyes on the ground, stumbling her way to Lord Destiny’s palace entrance, wishing she could disappear back to her home, to never have to see Dream, Desire or any sibling-in-law ever again. To never had to deal with any of these overwhelming family dynamics, in which she seemed to be a puppet in strings.

“Love Dove giving you trouble? What could possibly have happened, big brother, that an obedient submissive little lady like Love would get so rebellious? How could you fuck up a perfectly good wifey like that?” Dream gave them a cold look, not giving them the pleasure of an answer. But Desire knew exactly how to get Dream’s attention. They were very aware of those delicious rumors from the Second Harvest. How the Dream King gave a very explicit display of affection to his wife, very unusual behavior. Especially after she was seeing dancing all night with his younger brother. Entities talk, and Desire is very good at listening.

Knowing Eoster, she was most likely to be completely unaware of it, while Dream probably would be hyper aware of it, biting himself by now. And since the first rumors started to arrive in their ears, Desire was planning a little something to them, alongside Despair. Desire knew how Dream could be possessive of his toys. Even dolls he didn’t want to play, like Love, were still his, not up for sharing. Unfortunately for Desire, Love was as faithful as a nun. Dream never had his reasons to doubt it. Not until now. And Desire would use those flimsy rumors to stir some fun at the boring family gathering.

” Stoicness doesn’t exactly make a lady weak in her knees does it? Did it ever occur to you, dear brother, that her sudden defiance might have come from finding someone else?” Dream rolled his eyes, ignoring them, walking to his brother’s palace entrance, after his wife disappeared upfront, but still listening. “ Maybe someone passionate, fiercely devoted…” Desire followed him, annoyingly continuing the subject “Prodigal…” Dream stopped. Desire smiled viciously. ‘Got him’.

”What?-“They asked innocently “You didn’t think she was going to tell you, did you?” They looked at the raven haired brother with a fake pity look, clicking their tongue on their mouth ceiling “Eoster is queen of love, not faithfulness. That is her cousin or sister, I think.” The endless started to walk slowly in circles around Morpheus, dragging their voice “Dear Eoster got a lot of suffocated love to give. Always needy and underappreciated….”

The golden eyed sibling sighed as it was obvious as the dawn in the mornings “You should know, brother. Don't unhappy mortal wives dream too?” Desire painted a very vivid image for Dream. The same he had been trying to erase since the Second Harvest. “Fantasizing about a strong, warm, broad knight in shining armor who will rescue them from their stoic cold uncaring husbands. It takes so little for their frustrated hearts to feel loved. They desire so little. It’s laughable, really.” That was one of the only things Desire didn’t distort.

It did take little to warm Love’s heart, and her desires were incredibly cliche and boring. The sibling was twisting the narrative, of course, distorting the truth, making it a bit more exciting. In reality Love’s desires were absolutely uninspiring. “If you even knew the sins darling Love dreams of. Blushing stuff, really. Never had any curiosity, brother? How she likes to be touched, kissed, what she likes to hear…”

Some would think that after years of an unhappy marriage, she would have fantasies about other gentlemen. But no. Even her wildest deviations were about the Dream King. Well, a version of him at least. Infatuated by her body and soul. Dull sweet love making in the glades of lavender gardens, unimaginative pleasing each other in the waters of milk rose lakes, boring reimaginations of her wedding night, lots of clichéd romantic gestures, embraces, impregnations, praises and cuddlings. Boring. Vanilla. Domestic.

The wildest ( and by that, Desire meant ‘less boring’) fantasy Love had was about her husband making her orgasm with his tongue while she laid in his throne. Something Desire was sure didn’t happen in reality, since Love was as frustrated and tense as any woman who couldn’t tell what an orgasm was by her life “Love Dove found herself a shoulder to cry, a chest to hug, lips to kiss, a member to plea-“The blonde sibling, now only steps away from his quiet infuriated brother, was quickly grabbed by their neck. “Hold your tongue, sibling. That is my queen you are talking about.” Desire smirked, even under a close threat. Dream may not fully believe in them, but it certainly put him in the right mood for the dinner “Is that what you were trying to remember her?” The raven haired king dropped them and stared at Desire, trying to find any hesitation that might say it was just a jest. But Dream could only find amusement.

Love passed through the dark metal doors with her breath hiking, she felt lightheaded, the voices seemed far and undistinguished. She needed a drink. That was the only certainty she had. Something to steady her mind, to fixate on something. She found a golden goblet of whatever her brother-in-law was serving, a dark liquid, that burned her throat as she took a sip. Stronger than Garden wine or night blooming jasmine . Love ignored the salutation protocol, finding the nearest seat and sinking into it. She held an upright posture, as if relaxing would leave her open to collapse.

Tears dared to inflict her eyes, hands trembling, she dug her fingernails into her skin, tearing at her cubicles. She'd not even noticed the pain of them. She barely even notices anything as she takes another considerable sip, closing her eyes to savor it. Letting the burn on her throat consume all of her attention. She would be at eternal damnation if her siblings-in-law could read her thoughts. How did she end up here? Miserable? Why affront Morpheus? Just for the attention? Just to have his eyes on her for a second? Even if it was a hateful stare? How could she even call herself Lady of the Four Loves, teach about the ways of the heart, if her own love life was a depressed sorrowful mess?

And Desire. Is it such good fun seeing a broken bird getting crushed every time? They never even owned up to being the one who plotted to marry Dream and Love. Even when Morpheus questioned them. Always with witty remarks and indications of Eoster’s involvement. Making sure she stayed in the punishment of marriage. The more Love tried to win Dream’s affection, to convince him of a different narrative than Desire’s, the more he slipped away.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun” The incomparable dragged voice of Lady Despair, made Love look from her fingers to her husband's sister.”It is still my favorite, much better than Midsummer Night's.” Love gave her a weak smile “Just don’t tell my lord husband, he still holds grudges over it” Despair knew. Love decided to make another deal with Shakespeare, behind her husband’s back, to write nothing less, nothing more than the greatest love play the world would ever know.

She intended to give as a surprise gift to Morpheus. Morpheus saw it as his wife trying to undermine his own deal with the mortal, working her influence inappropriately. It didn’t help that the play became a success.

”Why dear sister! Don’t you cry! Is this about the waltz?” Love found the tears marking her cheeks, as Despair gave her a tight hug, as the brunette queen hid her face in Lady Despair's shoulder. Trying to compose herself, drying the tears that didn’t stop falling. A few minutes went until Love was able to speak, still with a crying voice, raising slightest her head. “T-the Waltz? No, it’s nothing of sorts. It’s…” Lady Despair started to rip her own skin, as Love reached for her hand, making her stop, her husband’s sister lowered her already low voice, looking at the sides “Sister Love you don’t have to hide from me, I feel your misery as if it was my own. I see your pain.” Love blushed. She liked Despair, but in her current state, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to confide in her. After all, she indulges in states of desperation, anxiety and failure. All three that Love was overwhelmed with. “The embarrassment of being used to provoke jealousy on a muse. It is low even for my brother.”

Love felt her blood freezing. Muse. Calliope? Was she there? Love didn’t see her. But Morpheus was indeed looking for someone else. Probably her. Did he find her? And jealousy? What-

The kiss.

It hit the queen like a shot through the chest. Embarrassment hit her entire body and Love wanted, desired, dreamed of leaving to go home. Not her husband’s home. Her home The Garden. Lock herself away and be indisposed for a millennium. .

The minute of frozen reaction was replaced by a burning quiet fury. That coward of a husband! That cheap manipulator! He blamed Love for acting flirtatious with his brother, which she wasn’t, while jealousy of his Calliope in the arms of another! Which was perfectly normal, since she was uncalled. And she was a muse. Muses had affairs left and right. If he wanted loyalty he should have settled for his wife!

She felt her stomach twist in a knot, if she had eaten anything she would probably have thrown up. That laughable display of affection. How the other entities must be amused by it. It would be the laugh of the century. All thanks to her husband.

Dream took her for granted, and something in the mixture of drinks she took as telling her that it was enough. She was Lady of the Four Loves. Usually she relied on familiar and spiritual love. But she was Lady of Carnal Love. She could force her hand and make mortals, entities, and Endless desperately yearn for her. It would be good for him to remember that. He already had a small delusion about Lord Destruction, didn’t he? Not liking the attention she received. Even going through her dreams to see if she had any sordid ideas. Which, if he slightly knew his wife, he would know that it never went near her mind.

But now? Let’s see when Love gives Morpheus something to actually be jealous of.

Lady Love finished her drink until the last drop, the burn made her squeeze her eyes, as the bell of the dinner rang. “Shall we, sister?”

Desire and Despair knew that to disturb the already problematic couple they needed different approaches. Love regarded highly how she was perceived by others, hating to be out of jokes, or the one to be whispered about and was very sensible to anything related to Morpheus’ love affairs. She preferred to not acknowledge them at all. And it was very unpleasant and unsettling when Love, Morpheus and Calliope happened to be at the same event. Dream on the other hand didn’t regard at all his public perception, but abided by his wife's need of showing at least a tolerable union between them. He did not take kindly to being made a fool of, especially by his wife. And Aunt Prim awoke in him feelings of possessiveness over his wife. Desire could make Dream furious with the thought of his wife hiding an affair with none other than his younger brother, who happened to be the complete opposite of him. And Despair could easily put thoughts and doubts in Love’s head. As Desire said to Morpheus, it takes very little to frustrated hearts to feel supported, and easy for them to trust a gossip that sounded like truth.

As soon as the couple sat side by side, occupying the same seats they always occupy, the twins knew their plan had worked.

Love knew she was savoring far too much, thinking Dream was actually jealous of her. It gave something to feed her starving ego. Love knew how damaging, living off those crumbs of attention could be, how it could poison one's relationship. The reserved part of her library was full of half-written books of romances that her cupids recall from the shelfs of the romantic love section. Every page of them, mortals seek love not in love itself but in side-feelings that give them morsels or blurred reflections of what love might be.

The tension between the couple was palpable. Love, who was teary a moment ago, was squeezing her hands with such intensity that the whites in her fingers were evident. Dealing with Morpheus being Morpheus was one thing, to be told by her sister-in-law that wasn’t even in the Harvest that the only fragment of affection her husband showed her in years, was all a jealous act to provoke his mistress was beyond infuriating. It didn’t help that the room seemed unusually unfocused and unsteady. Or maybe her head was too light. Didn’t Elijah give her something to sober her up? Why did she feel worse than before? Well, it didn’t matter, it was a good thing she was intoxicated, she needed to be for what she was planning to do to spite Morpheus.

Besides, she wouldn’t be impolite to her brother in law. Leaving his wine untouched. It probably was a huge faux-pas in some etiquette book she couldn’t remember if it existed or not.

Love reached for her full glass and Dream slowly put his hand over hers, as a gesture of saying she had enough. Immediately, Love snapped her hand away, grabbing the glass, her glacial and defying stare at her husband, while emptying her cup. Morpheus stared back at her with the same intensity. Love could see he was rehearsing to quietly reprimand her without getting attention from his siblings, and she was eagerly waiting to loudly give him the answer he deserved.

Fortunately, thanks to a loud thud that everyone recognized as Lord Destruction, the silent confrontation between the couple was interrupted. The red haired endless sat in front of the couple, as usual. The Queen of Love did something that reminded her husband why he didn’t trust her and why her nature was as shifty and similar to Desire’s. At the same time, his brother sat, Love’s face immediately turned into a delightful smile. The same smile that Primness told Morpheus about, one that could melt the snow, awake springs and warm hearts. Even her voice became soft “Lord Destruction! How delightful to see you. It’s been a minute!”

Poor Lord Destruction was unaware, not very attentive to tensions between couples, or shared grins between siblings. Not at all aware he was the piece missing from Desire’s scheme to make a boring night, a dramatic show. “Love, how are you? I saw you sparkling from the other end of the hallway.” Love leaned on the table, tilting her head to rest on her hand, her elbow on the edge of the table. A mischievous smile dropped from her lips, as she lightly frowned, amusingly asking, a look that the Prodigal never saw in his sister-in-law.” Are you trying to woo me, my lord? “ She spoke with a lower voice, but loud enough to Morpheus hear.

The raven haired king stiffened as he heard his wife's provocation. The red haired endless choked with her words, giving an awkward chuckle. He knew now that Love was humorous, but her jokes at the Harvest were innocent, funny remarks, these seem dangerously provocations.” It’s simple the truth.” Love didn’t pay attention to his hesitation, quickly glancing at Morpheus.

The Dream King knew what she was doing, wanting a reaction out of him. To make a fool of himself. He knew what a brat she could be when intoxicated. But what a nerve she had, the same high morals as Desire, to provoke him with his own brother that she seduced. He didn’t want to believe in Desire, let alone to admit they were right, but his wife's behavior was making it impossible to think of any alternative. Could he blame Destruction, hate his younger brother because he felt for Love’s siren song? “Please, you are going to make me blush!” She crossed her leg under the table, making sure to let her thighs lightly brush against her husbands, and stretching her lower leg nudging against Destruction’s leg as she painfully slowly and discreetly slid her feet through his leg to his tight. She signed, pretending tiredness.

The red haired brother jumped in his seat, at the feeling, eyes went wide and he immediately glance from his brother to his sister in law, as he fumbled with a response and she smirked at his reaction, with his sister-in-law’s foot getting dangerously close to his crotch, and even though it was terminally wrong, it was a kind of touch he didn’t want her to stop “You have no idea, my lord…” She dragged her velveteen voice, like she was tasting every word. And even though his brother, her husband, was by her side, and they were at a table with his other siblings, their conversation seemed private, like all the time in the universe belong to them and nothing else mattered . “How hard it is to be admired these days.” Desire carefully watched the trio's interaction. They opened a smile, mouthing to their twin ‘watch it’.

Lady Death also was eyeing the couple, the thick tension between them, and Love’s sudden attention to the prodigal. She was usually inebriated, everyone could see that, although no one ever addressed it, but always very quiet and polite. Death knew Dream and her had problems. Especially since their marriage condition, and Dream didn’t like to talk about it. But after a century or two, she thought they settled in maybe a friendship. The gossip of their waltz, gave Death even a small hope that they could’ve found happiness in one another.

Seeing Dream almost opened a hole on the floor as he walked to the dinner, moodier than ever, and Love’s wet eyes and uneven walk. She knew the waltz may be the opposite of what she thought. The way her sister-in-law was behaving made Death pinch Desire’s arm “ Stop it, right now.” The golden-eyed sibling looked at her with a hand in their heart, pretending to soothe their pinched skin “Dear sister, are you trying to imply something? I am not doing anything.” This time Delirium, who was until now lost in her own mind, meddled in the conversation “ You are always doing something, Desire. You can’t not be doing anything.” Desire rolled their eyes “Well this time I am doing nothing. Now Love Dove, maybe she finally got bored of Dream.” Desire took a sip of their drink and Death signed, giving up the idea of counting with their help.

Love wasn’t discreet enough Morpheus wouldn’t notice what she was doing. He could feel the way her thigh was tense, the delicate motion somewhere away from him,”Even by your own husband…”

It began as a game, her own personal game of using her tricks as Lady Eros, but as the words left her mouth, her mind grew distant, memories recent and old took place as her eyes were lost in her empty glass, even her teasing under the table stopped, as she dropped her thigh. She frowned again “Do you think he wants me? That he cares?” She gave a humorless chuckle “That-that kiss was for me? A declaration of love?” Love raised her eyebrows and shook lightly her head, fighting the words as she fought her tears “What a joke…” She raised her eyes bitterly and definitely staring at her husband. “Tell him, husband, who those are for.” Dream merely mouth her name in a warning tone, as she continued. “No? I’ll tell them. Those are all for his pretty little who-“

Clearing her throat, Death prepared to say something to distract both Love and Dream. But as she opened her mouth, Morpheus raised from his chair roaring through the room “THAT’S ENOUGH!.” Love bitterly laughs, as she raises from her seat. Both face to face. Death, Destruction and even Delirium trying to say anything they could’ve come up with to try to stop the argument, but the couple was not listening. “Now is it enough? Now is it enough?! You treat a whore like a wife, and a wife like a whore and”

She was abruptly cut. Morpheus didn’t raise his voice again, angrily keeping it down, clenching his teeth, his jaw was hurting from the pressure “You don’t need me to treat you like one. Not when you are opening your legs to anyone who gives you a half-witted compliment!” That was when he felt the cold drink against his face. Silence reigned for a few seconds in the room, not even Desire, who was amusingly twisting in their seat, dared to interrupt. Not even Delirium. “ Know this husband: If it wasn’t against every vow, every inch of my benign.” It physically hurt her saying, her mouth was stiff, like the words wouldn’t come free and she had to pull them out by force. “I would very much do it. And I would make sure that everyone, every single entity knew it.”

Without any balance, and the tears making it even more difficult to see, Love made her way out of the table, angrily untying her long translucid cape, which was more complicated than it seemed, dropping it on the floor before walking away. She couldn’t care less, if Morpheus called for her or not, she needed to get away from him, and his siblings as fast as she could, her mind playing tricks on her, seemingly hearing the laughs, the pity, the ridiculous condescension. She had to ignore those, if she ever wanted to leave this place.

Midway to the garden, She bumped into her host. Looking up to Destiny, she couldn’t think of an apology, or an excuse, he already knew what happened. Of course he knew it. Before it even happened, really. He remained standing still, looking at his sister in law with an indecipherable expression. She knew she could ask him. She could plead right now. To make it go away, to make the pain stop. She dropped her shoulders, grabbing her arms, her throat hurting from holding a sob, as she tried to calm herself not to embarrass herself even more. If only she had more courage, she would ask him. It would be for the better. Dream would be free, Desire would lose his favorite joke, Love could be free, she could breathe. She opened her mouth praying the words would come, but as she tried to ask for the unimaginable, Destiny interrupted her “There is nothing to forgive, my sister. You are tired.” She puzzledly looked at him, as he followed his path. Not giving her any time to think about questioning anything else.

-----------

Love thanked all the stars for Elijah not being in her room. He would be fulming if he saw what she did to her cape, and her heels, since one of them broke and was now lost somewhere in her brother-in-law’s realm. Destiny was right, she was tired. Love was careful in locking her door slowly, so neither Elijah or Lucienne would notice she was back. Her heart was racing, and the complete silence of the Dreaming, made it finally, private enough for her to let go of a painful sob, copiously crying, tripping to the side of her bad, falling in her knees, pressing her face against the bed, staining the white sheets with tears, trying to suffocate her loud sobs. Her whole body trembled, and the only attempt to move was to search for a syrup bottle forgotten under the bed.

She was far beyond drunk by now, but prayed for it to have a sip of wine, something to make her tears blurry and the world blurry again. She was already too sober, in her opinion, too aware of her surroundings, of her life. As she put it to her mouth, her husband appeared by the door. He didn’t knock, of course, neither asked if he could get in. It was his realm after all. Not hers, as he made sure she never forgot.

Morpheus looked at his wife, up and down, the image of misery, the hem of the dress was muddy, and her hair was a wild mess of curls. Half her body splashed on the floor, her back against the side of the bed. One of her heels dangled in her foot, the other was in his hand. Love laugh with herself. What an irony!

The prince with the lost shoe, looking for the princess who lost it. Both wishing it didn’t fit.

Her laugh made him angrily frown. “Do you think this is funny?” She looked him dead in the eye. “You don’t get to be angry at me. Not after what you did.” She stared at him. He wanted a fight? She would give him a fight. What could he possibly do anyway? Send her to Hell and give Lucifer a free opportunity to make alliance with his eternal wife? “What did I do? You were the one using your siren tricks on my own brother! You have no decency.” He walked front to back, as he walked near her bed, the Queen jumped from the floor, she tried to steady herself, but stumbled having to hold on to Morpheus, as he took her hands out of his chest, not waiting if she was steady or not. He couldn’t care less if she was. “You are one to speak of decency! You! I only gave you a taste of what you submit me every single hour, every single minute and second, since you realize you married me, not your dear muse!”

Love turned her back, taking two steps away before turning again. “ Why didn’t you leave me to die? Pray you tell me, why? You didn’t want me, you didn’t love me and is incapable of trying. Why submit me to such misery and you, as my lord likes to say so much, to such embarrassment?”

Morpheus looked at his drunk queen, Love made very uncomfortable questions for someone as drunk as her. The truth is, he couldn’t have left her. From the moment she fainted at his feet and he recognized the beautifully dressed woman at his feet, as Lady Love. Drained of all colors, lips ghostly white. He kneeled lightly caressing her cheek, taking the hair out of her face, she felt cold under his touch. Different from the vibrant young maiden he saw many times, clinging to Desire’s arms, rushing through ballrooms, hiding behind handfans, sweetly denying suitors, blushing when first meeting him.

At that moment, he didn’t think of her as the cruel seductress that deserved punishment, he saw a beautiful queen, a smile that lightened rooms, a caring ruler. Dream couldn’t leave her.

He knew he was completely damned from this day.

That brief moment, a life-and-death minute, was it for the king of dreams. Something changed in his heart, he felt glimpses of it and he shut it. Not that he understood, it would take him a good thousand of years to understand why he couldn’t leave her there. Why he finished his vows, and carried her back to the Dreaming. It wasn’t until later, alone in his throne, he would let his own mind decide what the woman he married and saved was. To think rationally on to whom his Queen was associated to, who orchestrated that arrangement.

But he couldn’t say that, not when fury was the one guiding his heart. Even if he could, he wouldn’t know how to put it in words. It was also a door he liked to keep close. So he answered, in the way he thought would hurt her the most, because that was the game they knew how to play, that is how they communicated. “You are dutiful to your subjects and devoted to the mortal worlds. I couldn’t risk your reincarnation being chaotic.”

If there was still an intact piece of her heart that wasn’t already broken, it would’ve broken. Not a hint of regret in his words, not a hint of emotion. Simple, solid facts. She didn’t know there was still some part of her that hoped for a different answer. “ I thought you would be more sensible.” He shrugged.

Not only break every piece of her, he also had to diminish her. Eoster tried to take a deep breath but her teeth were clenching in a way that she shivered from only trying. She was furious. Scared, tense, ashamed, everything was gone. Her blood was boiling from the only thing she could feel: fury. That man stole years from her life. He made her lonely, miserable. He took her innocence and crushed her spirit. But she refused to let him win.

”Sensible? Me? No. You are right. I am not sensible at all. I spent years smiling through all the humiliations you put me through. “ He started to interrupt her, questioning those humiliations that she thinks he put her through. She threw a bottle at his direction, hitting the mirror of her vanity “No! You listen to me! Every time that someone approaches me with that pity condescending look asking ‘how can you tolerate it?’ ‘Poor dove, how can you still walk in public with him?’ ‘You endure it with such class, I envy you’, ‘ The King was here the other day with her’. Of course you don’t know any of these sorts. It doesn’t get to you. No, you know what you hear? You hear that you are lucky, that you chose right, that they envy you because you have it all: A beautiful wife that sweetly welcomes you home and turns to the other way when you are whoring around having bastards sons…” The raven haired king, took feral steps, seeing pure red.

She never pushed him, not like this, it was different from every other quarrel. The way he came to her, a bull ready to hit his target, she thought he would pass right through her, when he stopped, inches away from her, so close that she felt his breath against her neck. Hot, irregular. But she didn’t flinch. Love stared back in his fury. “ Do you want to hit me? Do you?! Then fucking do it!” She was shivering, tears returning to her eyes, incapable of stopping, her voice trembling as she tried to speak with assertion “Make me feel something.” Other than humiliation, other than embarrassment and bitterness.

The second she saw him flinch, she closed her eyes expecting the hit, expecting the sting of pain. It took a few seconds of silence, hot, dense silence and unsteady chests rising, to hear her husband come to himself. “Leave.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore, dropping his hands at his sides. She opened her eyes to see him taking a step back. She just looked at him, not moving, not saying a word.

He took more steps away from his wife, as he needed for his and her safety to get away from her. “ Leave the Dreaming.” He repeated. Still the words couldn’t ring a reaction of the brunette “I am banning you, Lady of Love, Queen of the Four Loves, from the Dreaming. You shall return only on my command.” Love turned her face to him. He couldn’t look at her. “You can’t- I am your wife.” She mumbled as he nodded. “A True Marriage does not require us to live together. It requires being married. You shall continue your duties at the Garden.” With his head down, staring at the floor, he walked out of her room, leaving her with his final words “Leave until early dawn.”

@secretdreamlandmentality @littlemoistcarrot @lokigirlszendaya

[endlessbigbang]

Masterlist

And that's a wrap! We're so happy to conclude the first big bang for the Sandman fandom with 23 amazing collaborations. Endless, endless thanks to everyone who lent their support, to our writers and artists and podficcers, to the alphas, betas, and cheerleaders and, last but not least, the readers. We're so overjoyed with the success of this event, and can't wait to be back next year!

You can find all creations beneath the cut, please leave all our creators some love!

Love,

the mods (@kairenn-n, @magicinavalon, and @queerofthedagger)

Title: Feathers take Flight (find a home in my heart) Writer: @the-narwhals-awaken Artist: @amielot Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No archive warnings apply Word Count: 16,233 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus / Hob Gadling, Destiny of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Death of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Destruction of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Desire of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Despair of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Hob's Coworkers (just characters). Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe- Wings, all relationships other than dreamling are somewhat minor

Summary:

In a world where there are those that have wings sprouting from their backs, many things remain the same- after all, human nature is human nature, and wings can only change so much. However, when a belated meeting turns into a chance to get closer, to offer and recieve trust and care after a century locked in Fawney Rig, a new path can be set upon- and new futures open up.

Fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48303274 Art link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48587698

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Title: blue windows behind the stars Writer: celestarium (@meadowziplines) Artist: Blargh (@brokebrainmountain) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator chose not to use archive warnings / Suicide, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts Word Count: 21,532 Pairing/main characters: Gen; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman), Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Destruction of the Endless, Matthew the Raven, Desire of the Endless, Despair of the Endless, Delirium of the Endless, Background & Cameo Characters Up to 10 Additional Tags: Trauma, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks, Depression, Nightmares, Exhaustion, Catharsis, Farms, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending

Summary:

Dream contemplates what death would mean for an Endless after the resolution of the Vortex, dragged down by untold millennia of exhaustion, suicidal ideation, and self-loathing. Struggling with his own past and mistakes, but with the conviction that he should give the world a new Dream of the Endless, he attempts suicide. Lucienne, Death, and Matthew catch up in time to save him, and to aid him in the weeks following, Destruction of the Endless offers to let Dream (and his friend Hob Gadling) stay with him on his farm in Aotearoa (New Zealand). A vulnerable and emotional Morpheus agrees. While there, Dream struggles to reconcile his emotional state and sense of self with his duty as an Endless, and most of all, find hope again. His friends, family, and allies do their best to help him find answers, aid in nourishing hope, and plan for the future.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48335944/chapters/121909153

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Title: Room For Love Writer: @staroftheendless Artist: @pintobordeaux Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~ 65,500 Warnings: None Pairing/main characters: Dream x Hob Additional Tags: roommate AU, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, sexual tension, fluff and smut, artist Hob

Summary:

Sometimes in life, we make little decisions that lead to things so much bigger, we can hardly wrap our heads around it. After never quite getting along with people, Dream is surprised to become best friends with his new roommate Hob. He might even have a bit of a crush on him. The only problem? Hob could never like him the same way. Hob makes friends easily, especially with Dream, who's the best friend anyone could hope for. The only problem? After five years of living together, Dream shows up in places of Hob's mind where a friend doesn't quite belong. Now the only question left is, who's going to make the little decision that leads to bigger things?

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48699178/chapters/122844601 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48715300/chapters/122886778

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Title: By The Dead of Morning Writer: Essie (@essie007) Artist: @teejaystumbles Rating: Explicit Warnings: Suicidal Ideation, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, mentions of revenge porn, mentions of stillbirth Word Count: 39,775 Pairing: Dreamling Additional Tags (up to 10): reverse verse, canon divergent AU, Hob Gadling is Hope of the Endless, Human Morpheus, angst with a happy ending, Endless Family Drama

Summary:

When Despair is killed by the Kindly Ones for spilling family blood, she departs to the sunless lands, never to return. Thus, Hob Gadling, a lowly mercenary living in London in 1389, becomes Hope of the Endless. Over six hundred years later, Death takes him out for a drink, Desire in tow, to the Tavern of the White Horse, where he meets Morpheus, a down on his luck mortal crying into his sangria after a recent break-up. Desire believes that Morpheus’s death wish is genuine and that he will be dead within a year, but Hope is certain the man has too much to live for. Death offers a solution, she will not take Morpheus until he asks for her gift, but as soon as he does, she will grant it. Hob approaches Morpheus with every intention of winning a bet, but Hob is the youngest Endless by far and doesn’t know the family’s full complicated history. Or their connection to Morpheus. A reverse-verse canon divergent AU.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48475690/chapters/122275639 ---

Title: The Moonstone Writer: gisho Artist: @vriah Rating: Not Rated Warnings: no warnings Word Count: 21,254 Pairing/main characters: Rose Walker, Dream of the Endless, Jed Walker, Gault Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Knightly Quests, fairytale logic

Summary:

Morpheus finds a way to avoid killing a vortex - he gives Rose his own heart, forcing her to take his place as Dream. The new Dream has to deal with a life she never expected and try not to repeat her predessor's mistakes. In the waking world, the people she left behind grieve and wonder. And when Roses's little brother Jed is offered the chance to switch from superhero to questing knight, with some help from an old friend, he leaps at the opportunity.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48314338

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Title: little by little, and also in great leaps Writer: she_who_loves_dreamling (all_fandoms_reader) (@i-love-all-books) Artist: @d8dc Rating: Teen+ Warnings: Graphic violence Word Count: 21,082 Pairing/main characters: Dreamling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, The Love Is Requited They're Just Idiots, idiots to lovers, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:

In one world, Jessamy and Death depart for the Sunless lands, and it will be long years before Dream is free. This is not that world. ~ Hob is eating breakfast on Tuesday, August 10th, in the year of our Lord 1926, when Death comes knocking. Or, the obligatory fishbowl rescue fic, followed by a series of dates in the Dreaming which Dream doesn't realise are dates and Hob doesn't realise are real. AKA mutual pining with a happy ending.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48535429 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49062727

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Title: It's Only Forever, Not Long At All Writer: @beholdingthegaytimes Artist: @mayhemspreadingguy Rating: Explicit Warnings: None Word Count: 25k Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Masquerade Ball AU, Vampire Au, Alternate First Meeting, Violinist Hob Gadling, Vampire Dream of the Endless, Blood drinking, First time, Lust at first sight, Strangers to Hook Up to Lovers

Summary:

Hob should know by now not to go along with Death’s schemes, but here he is at a masquerade ball for her baby brother. He’s never met him, but Death's told Hob that he was indeed that pale lord that left the White Horse in a stink just before Death sauntered up and gave Hob immortality. Surrounded by impossible creatures and otherworldly beings, one specific person catches his attention: an inhumanly beautiful dark haired man in a raven mask. Hob loses track of him and the night spirals out in mayhem as Hob gets himself into trouble. Fey trouble to be exact. Or An alternate first meeting with romance, dramatic disputes, vampiric flare, and classical music.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/endless_big_bang_2023/works/48594271

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Title: The Seven Lamps of Architecture Writer: Quilling (@Quillingwords) Artist: @the-cloudy-dreamer Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 29,640 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Magical Realism; Gothic Atmosphere; The Dreaming is both a setting and basically its own character here; Literary and artistic references and allusions; Meta on storytelling and narratives; Dream goes by all of his names here; POV Hob Gadling; In which he gets to peel back each of the layers like an onion (or a tulip bulb - this will make more sense later)

Summary:

Moonlight made pools of yellow on the marble. What was this place? And the man he caught a glimpse of, the first night this place opened up to him, from between the windows that could have been doors. That was his Stranger from the Tavern of the White Horse, almost a century ago, Hob was sure of it. Hob had come to suspect that on that otherwise ordinary summer evening, he had embraced immortality and perhaps, given up his soul with perfect happiness. What a fable that would be. -- November, 1475. Hob Gadling arrives in Venice, explores a mysterious world of cosmic grandeur, trades ink-stained love confessions with his stranger, and embraces the most important lesson of all: that life is a story all on its own, past and present and an ending that isn't really an ending at all

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48302461/chapters/121819900

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Title: Holding On While You Slip Away Writer: @acedragontype Artist: @alexxuun Rating: Explicit Warnings: Outdated queer language/ideas, transphobia, minor character death, public outing, witch trials and drowning, warfare Word Count: 33,148 Pairing/Main Characters: Hob Gadling/Dream (Morpheus) Up to 10 Additional Tags: Trans Hob Gadling, Queer History, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Dream Sex, Dream Transformation, Trans Hob gets his preferred body in dreams, Top Morpheus, Top Hob Gadling

Summary:

He was not born Robert Gadling, he'd spent the first 16 years of his life going by another name. And yet, he'd always been Hob in his dreams. A Trans!Hob au exploring his various relationships in the context of queer history, as well as how he feels about his own body and identity.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48290944

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Title: Closing the Distance Writer: Ryunya (@ryunyaz) Artist: innenui Rating: Mature Warnings: Attempted Sexual Assault Word Count: 18k Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Up to 10 Additional Tags: H/C, Blood and Violence, Fluff, Sensory Overload

Summary:

Distance (and time) make the heart grow fonder, and both Dream and Hob are very happy to be finally reunited. However, Dream gets affected by the Waking world in ways he never has before, and that complicates things a bit.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48624715?view_full_work=true

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Title: Shoulder the Sky Writer: im_not_corrupted (@im-not-corrupted) Artist: @kd-heart Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Word Count: 35,279 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Depression, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Grief/Mourning, POV Second Person, aftermath of imprisonment, Emotional Hurt, Suicide Attempt, Post Season/Series 01

Summary:

Dream's time spent caged by Roderick Burgess has changed him, and he is tired. The Dreaming is loud, an ocean that drowns him. His responsibilities are another cage, and Dream comes to the realisation that he does not want to be who he is anymore. But he is Endless, and the Endless cannot change. It is not enough to banish the exhaustion that haunts Dream's steps, but he finds comfort in Hob's company as the two of them navigate a tentative friendship. It is a break, when the Dreaming gets too loud. It is not enough. Dream finds himself unable to find the words to explain what is happening inside his own head, though many are willing to listen. Eventually, his own desire to change and be something different manifests itself as a door inside the Dreaming that will take him to the Sunless Lands. It is not the change he wanted. But he is tired, and this door is the only way to escape his function. Though he doesn't take the chance at first, eventually the Dreaming manifests his own resentment for his function as a fog that blankets his kingdom, until Death seems like the only way out. Thankfully, Death of the Endless has another solution to offer her brother.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48299206 Art (Podfic): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48631597

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Title: It's A Kind of Magic Writer: artful_fanfic (@artfulusername) Artist: @jeniidrawsshit Rating: Explicit (E) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Drowning-Related PTSD Word Count: 21,957 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman) Up to 10 Additional Tags: Movie Night, POV Alternating, Appearance by Death of the Endless, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Blowjob

Summary:

While Dream and Hob navigate their newly-admitted friendship by engaging in traditional movie nights, neither of them seem prepared to admit that being simply friends is the last thing they want. Will their assumptions about the other's wants and needs keep getting in the way? Will Dream stop wanting to glare at Matthew for teaching him about "Netflix and Chill?" Only time will tell. Fortunately for them, they've got plenty of it.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48640318/chapters/122695573 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/jeniidrawsshit/725505982684397568/endlessbigbangitsakindofmagic

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Title: More Than a Concept Writer: AnneMcSommers Artist: @five-and-dimes Rating: Mature Warnings: Dysfunctional Family, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-StarvedTouch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Acceptance, Homophobia, Acephobia, Internalized Acephobia, Non-Consensual Body Modifications, Trauma, Bad Parenting, Food Issues Word Count: 15345 Relationships: Desire of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Death of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Delirium of the Endless & Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Despair of the Endless & Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Up to 10 Additional Tags: Family Feels, The New Inn is a Temple to Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, non-binary characters, Angst with a happy ending, Dream of the Endless| Morpheus needs a hug, Miscommunication, Sensory Processing Disorder, Misunderstanding

Summary:

When Desire plans to host a June family dinner, with human aspects that Dream doesn't understand, he turns to his human friend Hob Gadling for more information. What he learns leads Dream on a journey of self discovery, about who he is, what it means to be Endless, and his relationship with those he calls family.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48096463/chapters/121279201

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Title: An EPIPHANY of POPPIES upon the BATTLEFIELD or Robert Gadling and Delirium of the Endless' Adventures through No Man's Lands Writer: @questing-wulfstan Artist: Mockspeed ( @mock-arts ) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Canon-typical violence, the Corinthian is his own warning Word Count: 26k Pairing/main characters: Morpheus & Hob Gadling, Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless & Hob Gadling // Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless, Death of the Endless, Lucienne, the Corinthian, Dream of the Endless Rating: Explicit Up to 10 Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Canon Divergence, Hob Gadling saves Dream of the Endless from Burgess' basement, World War II, Substance Abuse, Hallucinations, Suicidal Thoughts, religious Hob Gadling, Catholicism, Blood and Violence

Summary:

April 1940, On a French battlefield, Hob Gadling doubts his will to persevere in being alive for the second time of his existence. He swallows morphine in the hope to soothe his horror-scarified mind, and summons a mirage of the stranger who occupied his thoughts as the patron of his immortality. In a Japanese psychiatric ward, Delirium of the Endless is alerted by Dream's irruption in her realm, who she found missing when she sought his company on her quest for the Prodigal. Disappointment overcomes her as she finds it was but an image of her brother conjured by a mortal, and so it does Hob when her eruption dismisses the vision. Delirium will not resign herself to her exponential loss of brothers however, neither will Hob Gadling withhold his help from any entity in distress, whether the stranger or his younger sister ; they just might hold the potential to liberate Morpheus between their four hands ...

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48626764 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48305194

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Title: ask what you want of my soul Writer: PanBoleyn (@eidetictelekinetic) Artist: kdheart (@kd-heart) Rating: Mature Warnings: Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 16,354 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hope|Elpis; Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Elpis (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Mythological Characters, Endless Siblings - Character, Original Characters Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Fem!Dreamling, Hope Hob (or Hope Ella), artistic license - mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death

Summary: 

In modern English, they will even speak of hopes and dreams together, as if they were one. They are not, but hope is often what starts the turn of someone’s dream to their reality, and so perhaps it is not surprising, that the youngest child of Brightness and Day was drawn to the thirdborn child of Time and Night. In which Pandora's jar was never a jar, and Hope was in love with Dream before she was lost. And long, long after, Ella Gadling caught the attention of Dream and Death, setting in motion the end of a curse, and revelations along with it.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48314875 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48631930

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Title: Do you believe in life after love Writer: dino_cattivo Artist: spiaem ( @spiaem ) Rating: teens and up Warnings: none Word Count: 17,667 Pairing/main characters: dream/hob Up to 10 Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending self-Esteem Issues, Nosebleed ,illnesses ,Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary:

God's like Zeus have shown themselves to humanity in modern times as they felt their power dwindle. With the worship of the people at an all-time height, they recover and are stronger than ever, sometimes even forfilling their followers wishes. History teacher Hob doesn't pray to any god. The history texts have taught him gods were only kind as long as they needed something. A belief that wavers after a bad breakup with his long-term boyfriend. Though before he can do something, he meets Morpheus, a handsome stranger showing interest in him and pushing for a relationship. They end up together but Morpheus has a hidden agenda.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48302005/chapters/121818418#workskin Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49454986

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Title: where dreams dwell not Writer: jamais_vu0 Artist: foxish (@kitsune2022-artish) Rating: Teen Warnings: canon-typical violence, temporary character death Word Count: 89,523 Pairing/main characters: Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless, Hob/Dream Additional tags: fairy tale AU, Hob saves Dream from the fishbowl, slow burn

Summary:

Hob Gadling is wasting away, aching for adventure and the chance to live life as it's meant to be lived. When he receives a mysterious letter promising all the adventure he could want in exchange for a year of his company, he takes the offer and finds himself in a lonely castle in a land of magic, a strange figure haunting his dreams. And when Hob himself breaks the one rule he's been given days before the year is complete, he finds himself embarking on the adventure he's always wanted, in order to save his Dream from a fate worse than death.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48303526/chapters/121823242 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/kitsune2022-artish/726233688430477312/my-art-for-the-endlessbigbang-2023-for

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Title: Love at Third Sight Writer: Gfawkes / LLflorence (@llflorence) Artist: @hpurlnovi Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 20,455 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Top Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Bottom Hob Gadling, Explicit Sexual Content, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, Romance, Light Angst, Emotional Sex

Summary:

Hob is dyslexic, and music notes are just like letters. B’s and d’s and p’s and q’s all look the same, as do all those little bastard tadpoles on the musical staff. So he does it a little differently, with a little humor and a lot of close-ups of his hairy fingers. And for some reason, it’s a hit in more ways than one. As Robyn begins to tune his instrument, Hob cases the room for his stranger. It’s the third time the handsome man has been to one of their gigs. There’s something familiar about him, something Hob can’t quite put his finger on. But the fact that he’s made eye contact for the third time is extremely intriguing. Johanna, of course, notices. “You’re looking for him again, aren’t you.”

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48001063/chapters/121029040

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Title: Sunrise in Chocolate Ink Writer: @aquilathefighter Artist: @vriah Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 15,047 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Up to 10 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Autistic Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Social Anxiety, Poet Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Barista Hob Gadling

Summary:

Dream Endlaez is newly living on his own and trying to make it as a poet. He starts going to work at a nearby coffee shop known for supporting local artists, where he meets a handsome and charming barista named Hob. Dream learns the business is not doing well, so he decides to host a poetry reading night to attract customers (and boost his career at the same time!), all the while falling for the barista.

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48363172

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Title: The Many Lives of Hob Gadling Writer: @landwriter Artist: @teejaystumbles Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Rating: M Warnings: Chose Not To Warn Word Count: ~20K Up to 10 Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation, Letters, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Devotion, Quests

Summary:

A man, supine and utterly still, in what might have seemed like a deep sleep, draws in a long slow breath and opens his eyes. He smiles up at the sky, for he knows not much at all, but he knows this: Hob Gadling is a man of good fortune. A story about refusing to leave. A story about a quest that spans lifetimes. A story about losing someone, and bringing them back with love.

Art & Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49088941

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Title: Strains of a Melody Writer: @ginoeh Artists: Theotherwillow & @kairennart Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Word Count: 55 526 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling & Orpheus, Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless, Orpheus Up to 10 Additional Tags: mild gore, past character death, angst and hurt/comfort, suicidal ideation, comic compliant assisted suicide of minor character, Hob's inability to die despite bein fatally wounded, look this has a hopeful ending okay?, Light At The End Of The Tunnel, Orpheus is a warning all for himself really, Comic spoilers for Brief Lives

Summary:

When Hob Gadling strands on Naxos at the beginning of the 20th century, some long-laid-plans and designs unravel. While the great stories always return to their original forms, for some this is the start of an entirely new narrative. The Fates, though, demand their due and neither Dream not Hob are free until all debts are paid in full.

Story & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48637858/chapters/122689126

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Title: Which Prisoners Call the Sky Writer: @dreamerinsilico Artist: @harukaspiegel Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Word Count: 16,339 Pairing/main characters: Dream of the Endless|Morpheus/Hob Gadling; Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless|Morpheus, The Corinthian, Desire of the Endless, Unity Kinkaid, Matthew the Raven Up to 10 Additional Tags: Angst With a Happy Ending, Nightmares, The Corinthian is His Own Warning, a particular Siamese cat, Dreamwalking, Medical Abuse, Fishbowl Rescue, the rescue is mutual

Summary: 

In his lucid periods, Hob worries more and more often about how long he has been asleep. People dream of things that don’t exist all the time, of course, but not the same things, with such consistency. In 1916, Hob Gadling falls asleep and doesn't wake up. He begins to realize that he can wander after an encounter with a young girl on a black-sand beach, and he knows there's something important missing, everywhere he goes. When he learns it might be a someone, he puts all of his six centuries of being a tenacious bastard to use.

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49760731 Art: https://www.tumblr.com/harukaspiegel/727195638811574272/wich-prisoners-call-the-sky-by?source=share

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Title: The Other Kingdom Writer: Banhus (@that-banhus) Artist: Mockspeed (@mock-arts) Rating: E Warnings: Gore, attempted suicide (OC, minor character, not too explicit), canonical minor character death, starvation, illness, sexual content, horror. Word Count: ~50k Pairing/main characters: Dream/Hob Gadling; Dream/Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Randall Burgess, Johanna Constantine, The Corinthian, Jessamy, Destiny, Mazikeen. Up to 10 Additional Tags: WWI, AU - Death captured by Roderick Burgess, Sandman-typical roadtrips, plot heavy, po-ta-toes, slow burn, I will show you fear in a handful of sand.

Summary:

In 1916, Roderick Burgess successfully summons Death, and Hob Gadling wakes up in no-man’s land alongside three dead soldiers.

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49615189 Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48305038

[thethreeeyed-raven]

🐺 Reader decides to snuggle with Dream when they decide to spend time together and relax after a long day.

the dream lord doesn’t cuddle

navigation | warnings : use of the word ‘you’ a lot lmao | a/n : i’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, but here you go :) | morpheus, dream of the endless playlist

You couldn't wait for the excruciating day to to end so you can climb into bed and be held by the warm hands of your lover.

All you could think about during work was Morpheus, and you hoped it would've been the same for him.

And it was. As Morpheus created new dreams and nightmares, his thoughts always trailed back to you.

In fact, he thought of you so much he must've created thousands of dreams with at least one of your features or one of your personality traits.

"My lord, you look...tired." Lucienne came up to him with a look of concern, a book clutched tightly in her arms.

It was rare for Morpheus to be tired, he was the king of dreams and nightmares after all.

"Lucienne-"

"I think you should get some rest my lord, Y/n is already here looking for you." She cut him off with a smile.

Everyone who resided in the dream realm knew of your existence, and the daily cuddle sessions you had with their master.

The dream lord doesn’t cuddle, is what he would tell his subjects, but that was obviously a lie.

You unlocked the door to your apartment with a sigh, already missing your bed.

You stepped into the dark hallway, locking your door back up now you had arrived home.

You threw your keys on the counter and your coat over a chair.

Swiftly taking off your work uniform, you rummaged through your wardrobe looking for something to act as pajamas. You grabbed a simple T-shirt and some shorts and put them on, collapsing on your bed and drifting into a deep sleep.

"Y/n? I was wondering when you were going to arrive." The cheerful librarian greeted you with a smile.

"Lucienne! Have you seen Morpheus anywhere?" You asked her, your fatigue evident.

"Yes, he is currently creating some new nightmares. I'll go fetch him for you."

"Thank you Lucienne."

As she went, you explored the library for a few minutes then stalked off to the bedroom Morpheus had added to the palace just for you.

"My love." You heard your lovers deep voice as you lifted your head above the white sheets.

Your black haired beauty had finally come to lay with you.

"Morpheus, finally!" You blessed him with your beautiful smile as he climbed next to you, his black coat long gone.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"I can sense you've had a hard day sweetheart." He teased you with a slight smirk.

"I don't want to talk about that now, okay? I just want to be with you." You said as you kissed the end of his nose.

"Anything for you my love." Morpheus captured your lips into a kiss, before leaving you to rest in his arms.

[10moonymhrivertam]

A lil Dreamling bodyswap thing I’m directly copy-pasting from my phone notes, hopefully I get back to it someday

Apparently I was taking inspo from a Witcher post I’ve lost XD I’m gonna go look for it

@avelera if you’re interested 💜

~~~

“Sounds like you’re living the dream.” Their lips curl into a conspiratorial smile over their glass. “Still. All bounds of ‘reasonableness’ aside. If you could have anything you wanted. What would it be?”

“Careful. Dressed like sin, shelling out for the good whiskey…a man might think you’re trying to trap him with a question like that.”

“Who, little old me?” They batted their eyes. Hob wondered if perhaps they knew Morse code for ‘I am absolutely trapping you’. “I’m just having a bit of fun. Come on, what could it hurt?”

Hob frowned at them. “Are you one of the Fair Folk?” He blurted.

They snorted, and their coy smile twisted downward into something just short of a sneer. “The faeries dipped out half a millennium ago.” Hob felt a little dizzy, his brain buffering through the realization that it was within his lifetime. As the matter-of-fact tone penetrated past the haze, he found himself rewarding the frankness with honesty.

“I’d like to know what’s going on in my best friend’s head once in a while.” STHe hesitated, but…in for a penny. “[Dissonance of glad to be back but definitely traumatized?]”ST

“A ‘walk a mile in their shoes’ sort of thing?”

Hob snorted. “Not sure I have enough style in me for his shoes.”

“You never know.” They shrugged sinuously. They set down their glass and stretched, full-bodied. It was the dangerously toothy yawn that really made it cat-like. “I really must be off.” They stood, pausing beside his seat. “Good to meet you, darling.” They pressed a kiss to his temple. A sudden shiver ripped down his spine.

“Good to meet you, too,” he said absently

*

For five centuries, Hob always remembered when he dreamed, even if their details slipped away like water come morning. In his sixth century, it was more questionable. He suspected he still dreamed, but he never woke up with anything on his mind, unless it was old memories returned to haunt him. He was just getting used to having the full experience back, which is what made the blankness he was waking up from so strange. He was so preoccupied with it, staring into the middle distance, that it took him at least three minutes to register the voice that had groaned when he’d sat up; the fine bedding beneath the hands propping him up; the wall he was staring in the direction of.

[And then he wanders around and eventually runs into Matthre and Lucienne. Matthre recognizes him as not-Dream on a close examination]

“That’s not ideal.” He’d hoped speaking would calm him down a little, but - he knew that voice. That fucker. They’d never actually denied being Fae, had they? Hoping he was wrong, he looked around for a mirror. He felt himself call it, but it appeared like in a dream - like he’d simply overlooked it before. The face staring back at him was familiar in all the wrong ways, save the eyes. Instead of the icy blue he’d expected, there were voids with twin stars. As bizarre as it seemed, it - kind of fit, actually. Hob raised a hand to his face reflexively, resting under his eye. It was strange to see Dream’s figure doing it.

“Right. Okay. Right.” Wind rattled at the doors to the balcony - balcony? Of course Dream had a balcony. “Maybe if I figure out where we are?” He mumbled to himself, making for the door. For all that Dream seemed more amenable to sharing personal information now (a name, even!), they were still used to Hob doing all the talking, and they hadn’t met much yet despite agreeing to keep a more friendly schedule. He hoped he was in or near London, but there was a pit in his stomach that doubted it. It grew as he stepped into the hall and realized just how massive Dream’s home must be.

He picked a direction and set off. Whatever storm lay outside seemed to be growing, which didn’t help his sense of dread in the slightest. As he kept walking, it seemed like a lecture hall’s worth of chatter was growing louder without growing any closer. Eventually, he came to hear snippets of it: “I have to remember to change that lightbulb”; “she reminds me of my niece”; “Did someone break in? …I really need to fold those clothes”; “Did I leave the stove on?” It left him distracted enough that he didn’t take in many details. The chatter and the storm and the knowledge that this was absolutely his fault swirled around him until he broke free to an open area. After looking around, he realized it was a throne room. Because of course it was. Suddenly, a number of things about Dream’s attitude and conduct made sense, but now he had absolutely no idea where he was.

“Hey, have we got another mission or something? That’s a hell of a gale.” He turned around, his eyes searching upward for the voice without him deciding to do so, landing on a raven flapping towards him from the presumably-front door. Before Hob decided what to say, the raven suddenly winged back, staring hard at him. He settled on the floor halfway down the room. “You aren’t the boss,” he said warily.

“No,” he confirmed. “I know him,” he added, hoping to head off the worst of any panic or interrogation. “But, um…yeah. I’m not Dream.”

“Oh, don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Hearing him say ‘um’ is freaky.”

He cast his mind back over old meetings, recalling how deliberately Dream spoke on the rare occasions that he did, even in 1689, when he’d done most of the talking. “Yeah, no, that’s fair.” He paused, contemplating what to say next. “This is my fault. I think I accidentally made a deal. Anyone I can talk to about that? Besides, y’know, Dream?”

“…yeah, yeah there might be someone.” He took to the air again, and Hob followed in his wake. The chatter and the storm pressed at the edges of his brain, but having someone to focus on helped. He paused as they crossed the threshold to a library. He was sure he’d been in here before, once or twice, and yet…he didn’t remember a damn thing about it.

*****

• Lucienne &/or Matthew call Death

• Death calls a family meeting

• “Alright. I’m hoping one of us did this, because if it was someone else, this becomes much more serious immediately. I have two prime suspects. Given that Delirium isn’t pointing and laughing, Desire needs to start talking”

“What, i didn’t do anything to Dream” and/or similar until “wait YOURE hob gadling?”/“someone tell me what Hob gadling looks like”/“where does Hob gadling live” and Desire realizes they fucked up more than intended and they are simultaneously delighted and terrified

[kydrogendragon]

Happy birthday!

I love Lucienne and Gault being sweet to each other, Gault and Jed having adventures together in the Dreaming, and Rose and Barbie if you want (I set them up as a pair in my fic, Life is But a Dream, but then didn’t go any farther with them).

Happy writing!

Sixth prompt of the day!

I initially tried to write a ficlet with all of the above, but couldn't figure out what I wanted to go with it. If you're curious, the general premise I had was Rose teasing Lucienne about when she planned to propose to Gault while they were all in the Dreaming. Gault was off flying around Fiddler's Green with Jed while Lucienne, Rose, and Barbie lounged on a picnic blanket on a hill.

But! Instead, I wrote a thing focusing on Gault and Lucienne since the words for that flowed more. I'd like to finish the other idea I had eventually since I do think it'd be cute, but hopefully this also works!

Thanks a ton for the prompt!!! This was a lot of fun to write. It's vaguely in the same universe as A Waking Nightmare, but just in the sense of "this is how these two got together".

Relationship: Gault/Lucienne Words: 1587 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

“When was the last time you left this place?” Gault asks, trailing behind Lucienne while the former raven snags the misplaced books from shelves and tables. The library of the Dreaming was expansive and ever shifting, though Lucienne never seemed to have issue navigating it. Even Gault, as a Major Arcana, a spot that put her as close to their Lord as a Dream or Nightmare could be, struggled with finding exactly what she wanted in this place.

Lucienne had explained it to her once. She claimed that her role as the Librarian of the Dreaming allowed her control over it to some degree. As Dream was the Dreaming, Lucienne was, partially, the Library as well. When she retired from her position as a Raven and took up the new role as Librarian, their Lord had bestowed upon her a small fraction of his powers so that she could wield this space to it’s fullest potential. And wield it, she did.

“Frequently,” Lucienne replies, pulling one of the misplaced books from her cart and slotting it between it’s brothers on the shelf in front of her. “I do often bring reports to Lord Morpheus, after all. I am not confined to this space, you know.” She hears Gault’s sigh behind her before she sees the flash of color to her side. Gault follows her, walking backwards beside the cart. Lucienne shoots her a look, raised brow and all, wile she continues her duties.

“You know,” Gault says, picking up one of the abandoned books and turning it in her hands. “Doing tasks for our Lord wasn’t what I meant. When what the last time you left this place on your own accord?”

The answer, Lucienne knows, is a very long time. So long, in fact, she’s unsure when exactly that was. Not nearly as far back as her position as raven, but not much sooner than it, either, she suspects. She blinks, refusing to look upon Gault’s knowing expression, and instead focuses on her work. She slots a book into position, her finger trailing along the spine as she pushes the hardback into place.

She just catches the roll of Gault’s eyes as she wheels the cart forward. They descend, expectedly for Lucienne, unexpectedly for Gault, who stumbles over her feet at the sudden shift in elevation. She falls over, her back colliding with the now stable flooring of the Library. Lucienne smirks as she wheels past the prone Nightmare.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Gault called from her spot on the floor. Lucienne looks over her shoulder, a face of perfect innocence.

“Me? Never. The floor was always that way.” She turns back as Gault huffs and pushes herself up off the hardwood floors. They’ve made their way into one of the offshoots of the main library. Here, the hallway is narrower and the ceiling reaches just a head taller than their Lord’s usual form size. Torches line the walls, illuminating the corridor in golden, flickering light. If Lucienne was being truthful, it was these smaller sectors of the Library that she enjoyed the most. They were rarely visited by anyone, dream and nightmares or dreamers alike. This particular hallway was devoted to the finished collections of Swedish Shower Thoughts circa 1940 to 2040.

“If I asked you to join me for a scroll through the gardens, would you say yes?” Gault’s voice echoed against the stone ceilings. The grip on the book in Lucienne’s hand tightened. She looks down, eyes trailing over the leather bound edges. A stroll through the garden, inherently, wasn’t a bad idea. The weather was fair as their Lord was in a decent mood as of late and she knew that Mervyn had recently completed the renovations to the pergola beside the pond which would make for a most excellent sitting spot. No, the garden wasn’t the thing that made Lucienne pause.

Gault was. Or rather, what Gault wanted was the cause for her hesitation. It was clear, after the numerous visits she had made to the Library in recent months, that there was something more than simple friendship under the surface. Lucienne wasn’t blind to the clear flirting or prolonged looks. And she would be lying if she said there weren’t times her own eyes lingered a touch too long. Mutual attraction wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it existed in the first place.

Lucienne was the Librarian of the Dreaming. She was a former raven to Dream of the Endless and, most critically, was kept nearly as busy as her lordship was. And Gault… Gault was a jovial spirit who completed her work with artistry and efficiency. She helped care and raise the young dreams and nightmares and saw such beauty and potential in both this realm and the Waking. Gault was worthy of her title as Major Arcana. She was the best of them. And what Gault needed was not someone who has been compared to Lord Morpheus in more ways than one.

No, she should deny her request for the stoll in the garden. She should deny any such requests in the future until Gault takes the hint and finds someone more compatible, more deserving of her. She sighs, slotting the book in place, before turning to meet Gault’s gaze.

“Okay.”

The gardens, as expected, were wonderful out. The flowers were just starting to bloom and the air was clean and crisp. Lucienne couldn’t help but notice the tension in her shoulders began to dissipate as they walked through the rows of flowering hedges.

They chatted while they walked, mostly of work, though Gault did tell stories of the most recent nightmares she’d partaken in. Apparently, there had been some debate on who was responsible for a string of serial nightmares: herself or the Corinthian. Lucienne did not envy Gault for having to deal with that mess. The Corinthian, while an effective Nightmare and particularly favored by their Lord (though Lucienne knows well he would deny such claims), was not fun to work with on a professional level.

Gault stopped just beside a section of flower, a variety of Daisy that exists solely in the Dreaming, and plucks one from it’s stem. Lucienne watches as she raises the golden flower to her nose and sniffs. She hums, clearly pleased by the scent, before turning to face Lucienne. She stares for a moment, her eyes flicking between the side of her head and back to her gaze.

Then, it clicks, when Gault leans forward and slots the flower between her ear. Lucienne can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine as Gault’s touch. She is warm. Her fingers are warm as they caress the side of her face once the flower is secured.

“There,” she says, letting her arm fall back to her side. “Something pretty for someone pretty.” Lucienne smiles, shaking her head as he looks away. She can feel heat in her cheeks.

“Is that the best line you have? You are trying to woo a librarian, after all.” She replies, gazing down at the junction of stone and grass beside their feet.

“Guess I’ll just have to study some more. Is there a book on good pick-up lines somewhere in that expansive library of yours?”

Lucienne looks up, her eyes meeting the soft gaze on Gault’s face. She feels her heart skip in her chest followed immediately by a heaviness, a lead weight of guilt inside her. She doesn’t realize she’s speaking until it’s too late.

“You should not want me,” she nearly yells. “I will not have the time to devote to you as I would like. As you would deserve. I will put our Lord and the Dreaming above us, above you and above me. I cannot be the spontaneous partner or even, truly, a most affectionate one. I have only know my work, my books, and my Lord for so many centuries that I do not know how to know another. You deserve more than me, Gault.”

She is silent, staring down at Lucienne with such sadness in her eyes that she is certain she has some to the same conclusion as herself. That a relationship between them would be pointless. Instead, she slowly raises her hands and cups Lucienne’s cheeks.

“Good think I’m more than fine with just following you around while you work,” Gault says, leaning forward to press a feather light kiss to Lucienne’s forehead. It is the most touch she has experienced in so long. She only realizes she has whimpered when Gault chuckles against her skin. “We have all the time in the world. I can learn to wait while you figure it all out. As a friend or as more. I just want you, Lucienne.”

She lets out a shuddering breath which quickly turns into a shaky, teary laugh. Gault wraps her arms around her form and pulls her close to her iridescent chest. They are a perfect height, Lucienne thinks, as she feels Gault’s chin rest on the top of her head. She winds her own arms around Gault’s waist, letting herself enjoy the moment. There’s a steady thrum from under her skin. Not a heart, not truly, for most of the dreamthings here do not have hearts, but rather the core of them. It pulses with power, hers even stronger than most for her status as an Arcana.

“Okay,” she finally says, her voice muffled against Gault’s body. “Just… be patient with me?”

“For you, my dear librarian? Of course.”

[meadowziplines]

#IFD2024 Feedback Fest / Femslash February Recs: 10 Femslash Sandman Fic Recs

I have not provided additional cw’s beyond what is in the summary; please check work tags before reading.

Feel free to tag in authors whose Tumblr handles I don’t know!

(G-M)

[G] New Dreams, New Age by AlphaScorpiixx (1k) (Gault/Lucienne): Gault. Lucienne had spoken true to Dream. She never trusted the shapeshifter Gault. Dream had agreed with her, claiming it wasn’t the nightmare’s nature to be trustworthy. Now, with Dream about to pronounce his punishment on her, Lucienne couldn’t stop staring at the expressions on Gault’s face.

[G] Trials of a Shapeshifter in Love by tryan_a_bex (1.9k) (Gault/Lucienne): “Lucienne has been working so hard lately,” Gault explained to the Dream King’s head cook. “I’d like to do something nice for her. I was thinking a surprise romantic dinner over candlelight in the library.”

[G] todas tus luces (all your lights) by marveling_under_an_open_sky (@two-hands-toward-the-sun) (1.2k) (Gault/Calliope): Calliope had always seen people’s creations as facets of their own selves, was drawn to people according to the work of their hands and hearts. And Gault created beautiful, powerful things for the dreamers she held so dear.

*lovingly yeets another femslash rarepair into the pile*

[T] our place in the sun by marveling_under_an_open_sky/(@two-hands-toward-the-sun) (1.6k) (Calliope/Lucienne): “Oh, my love.” Laughter bubbled out of Lucienne’s throat, and she felt so light; no, she amended to herself, she felt heavy with the weight of the woman she loved and who loved her, and it was glorious.

Calliope planted her hands into the mattress on either side of Lucienne’s torso and lifted herself up a little to look down at her, eyes sparkling. The fabric of her pyjamas was soft against Lucienne’s front. Calliope leant down, hair tumbling over her shoulders, and tasted Lucienne’s mirth with her own mouth, savouring it like it was honey, like it was the finest dessert at a queen’s royal table.

I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH OKAY

[T] Flirting with Death by honeyteacakes/@honeyteacakes (5.6k) (Death/Johanna): “Strange,” the woman replied, looking at Johanna thoughtfully. “Normally I don’t meet people until they’re ready to leave with me, but you’ve got time yet.”

“Might be less time than you think. Mind phoning an ambulance, love?”

Johanna keeps getting her ass kicked. Coincidentally, she keeps running into the same beautiful woman. Those things probably aren’t related, right?

(Recommended for those who want to see Johanna be a pathetic little meow-meow and for those who think Kirby Howell-Baptiste might be one of the most beautiful women alive.)

[T] Birds and Bees in the Belfry by Karalyn/@karalynlovescake (1.3k) (Delirium of the Endless/Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn): When you're in an odd three-way relationship with the anthropomorphic personification of delight and delirium, you don’t get to choose your own pet names.

[M] Starts and Stops by goblininawig (11.5k) (Calliope/Johanna): Constantine just wanted to be paid, not to get involved with a mythical entity. Calliope just wanted to be free, not to fall in love again. But that's exactly what happened.

(E)

[E] Right Hand Ladies by Karalyn (2.1k) (Lucienne/Mazikeen): While waiting for their respective bosses to finish their “meeting of state” (a thinly veiled excuse for them to hook up,) Lucienne and Mazikeen commiserate about their jobs, their respective lords, and find an enjoyable way to pass the time.

[E] Sea Change by Cafephile (3.1k) (Gault/Lucienne): "What brings you here, Gault? Not that I am not glad of your company," Lucienne hastens to add because it is true, and she would not want the dream to feel unwelcome.

"Are you?" Gault asks. "You never seemed to like me much before."

Gault visits Lucienne in the library to clear the air. They end up doing far more than that.

[E] East of everywhere is Hell (7.6k) (Ric the Vic/Johanna): Written for the Sandman Femslash Weekend prompt: Meet-Ugly

The day Erica Patel (Ric to everyone except official bureaucracies) learned that, contrary to every rational instinct she had, demons were in fact real and able to possess people, was unfortunately also the day she met Johanna Constantine. At the moment it was a tossup which part made the day worse.

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(the 10 other fandoms fic rec list is still coming)

also check out the whole sandman femslash weekend collection on ao3 and the tumblr blog dedicated to sandman femslash, @sandmanfemslashfans!