#the endless x reader

[aemondseyepatch]

Lewis Pullman as Bob in Thunderbolts (2025)

[attackurheart88]

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes.”

"Do you really really love me?”

They stop what they’re doing and turn to look at you. An audible sigh is heard.

“If I come over there and kiss you until your lips fall off will you shut up?”

[milkluvr333]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[starmocha]

Oh oh oh since we're sharing pregnant mc hcs, how about one where they got a bit carried away, they did it, she got pregnant, he "died", by some miracle she didn't lose the baby, she's an excellent, doting, badass mom. then when he comes back he finds the love of his life with a little 1 year old baby girl that could be considered mc's perfect clone except for the eyes. the eyes are his. IMAGINE THE ANGST THE HURT THE TEARS THE LOVEEEEE!!!!!

🫵 are you guys using my Caleb-addled brain to sneak around my “I don’t take requests” condition. /lh 😔 this is who I am now, I guess. I see Caleb, I cave… 🥺

Endless Summer

It was an ambush, another attempt on his life.

It was the thirteenth time in three months, as a matter of fact. Caleb had thwarted all of the previous attempts with ease, always on guard, untrusting of those who claimed to have vowed their loyalty to him as their colonel.

As you learned, you couldn’t trust anyone in Skyhaven, much less the Farspace Fleet. Dark secrets surrounded this seemingly elite entity and though it appeared like the place ran like a machine with perfect precision and efficiency, there was still an insidious side that Caleb refused to let you see.

It wasn’t just his life they were after. They were after yours as well, using you as the ultimate pawn to get to him. Little do they suspect, while you may be his greatest weakness, you were also his strength, his sole reason to persevere.

This was to be a fatal lesson for many to learn.

It was supposed to be a celebratory banquet, thrown in honor of the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel’s latest achievements. There were no deceptions by the hosts, but a traitorous group seized this opportunity to trap the young colonel and all doors within the banquet halls locked, keeping many of the guests hostages in the process.

Within the center of the room, Caleb calmly eyed all of the familiar faces that loomed overhead on the second floor as all around, innocent guests rushed to the exits, banging and screaming for help. He tried to push you away, get you to safety.

They were after him, after all. You didn’t need to be in the crossfires.

You didn’t have time to react, hearing that first gunshot that led the way for the onslaught of bullets.

Something in Caleb snapped that night. The barrage of bullets that came at him and you from all directions would have taken down anyone, but they all froze midair only because of his Evol freezing them in their track and keeping them suspended as if time had frozen at this very moment. He soon, however, learned it was merely a distraction.

Ca…leb…

The moment he saw the crimson blood seeping from your side, that knife pulled out quickly, and you were falling, eyes closing, as he ran toward you yelling your name. His Evol flared out of control, the gravity in the room suddenly immensely heavy, as dozens of men were pulled to their knees in futile struggles.

Open your eyes, he pleaded, his uniform soaked with your blood. His face twisted in pain, a million thoughts rushing through his mind, all of the memories of the past resurfaced in quick successions. All of those years of smiles and laughter that transitioned to pain and distrust only to slowly return to some semblances of the past were now coming to an end before his very eyes. He couldn’t lose you like this, not when he had promised that he would make things right again, to be the man that you deserved. Please…please…

You struggled to breathe, the pain unlike anything you had experienced in your life. As he watched you teetered closer to death, he was filled with wrath, an anger that could not be calmed by any forces in this world.

Caleb held his hand out, and a gun laying on the floor levitated before it rushed into his grip from across the room, and without a thought or any remorse or even hesitancy, he fired bullet after bullet into each man’s head, a clean shot straight through the center, not flinching even as the surrounding guests screamed and huddled to the floor, covering their ears from that violent, horrid sound.

When the last traitor fell, Caleb dropped the gun with a clatter, and his arms wrapped entirely around you, pulling you closer to his body for warmth. Your breathing had weakened even more, but he could still save you. He hadn’t failed you. Not yet, not ever. You were going to live. He would make sure of it.

Even if he now realized you were safer away from him.

Colonel Caleb, you had only slept for four hours last night, the robotic voice of an OTTO said with some semblance of concern in its artificial vocal. It levitated after its owner as the young colonel adjusted his uniform. The robot continued, explaining, An adult man of your age requires ei—

“I’ve slept enough,” he interrupted firmly, ignoring the robot, whose monitor quickly displayed a digitalized look of concern. Caleb had thought often of shutting down the robot and dismantling it, but he could never carry through, remembering that he had purchased this robot for you.

In this cold, monotonous so-called-home of his in Skyhaven, Caleb had few things that reminded him of you. A few plushies you two had won together sat on his living room couch, some snapshots you two had taken together at a photobooth, and perhaps a few furniture pieces you had ordered to be sent directly to his home. You had been in the process of bringing warmth and life into this place when everything came to an abrupt stop.

If he hadn’t taken you to that banquet that night nearly two years ago, Caleb wondered how things would have played out. You wouldn’t have gotten injured that night, but he feared perhaps it would just delay that same outcome. That night, he found himself at a fork in the road, forced to make a decision that would change the course of both of your lives.

Keep you by his side, where he had foolishly believed you would always be safe under his protection, or, let you go, let you believe that whatever had happened that night, he was the one who had died, finally taken away by Death himself. It was better to let you believe he had actually died this time, to keep you from searching for him, to keep you far away from Skyhaven—to keep you from him.

Since that night almost two years ago, Caleb’s nightmares had worsened. He relived the dreadful night, but he had also had other terrifying dreams so horrendous, he would wake up screaming in cold sweats, completely disoriented, unsure if he was trapped within another layer of the nightmare, or if he was truly awake.

“She’s safe, she’s safe,” he would often mutter to himself, an attempt to convince himself that he had made the right choice, that setting you free was the only way he could keep you safe. As long as you lived, he would bear the weight of his sacrifice, even if it meant never seeing you ever again.

It was sunny in Linkon, not a cloud in the sky, and the weather warm and inviting, but to Caleb, it was a place he had forbidden himself from ever stepping foot in again, out of fear that your paths would cross. In all of those times since he had distanced himself from you, allowed you to believe he was dead, he had managed to avoid any reason to step foot in the place that was once his home.

When his adjutant, Liam, had informed Caleb that his schedule required him to attend a conference meeting in Linkon, the young colonel stiffened, the atmosphere in the room stifling almost as if he was using his Evol. He suppressed his initial instinct to yell, knowing Liam was well aware of Caleb’s situation and had in the past made the necessary arrangements to prevent him from having any reason to step foot in that city.

It seemed he couldn’t stay away from Linkon forever, so he resigned to this situation, still remaining vigilant in his stance. Linkon was a big city, and there was no reason for your paths to cross. He would make do with this troublesome situation for the time being.

Now, Caleb had intended to return to Skyhaven the moment the meeting ended, and yet, against his better judgment, he found himself wandering down familiar streets, lost in memories of happier times. As he walked, before his eyes, he saw the silhouettes of him and you as children running down the street after school to your favorite little vintage grocery store.

Caleb, you dummy, you can’t use your Evol!

Don’t blame my Evol because you can’t run fast on those short legs, pipsqueak!

Caleb chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The memories of those years seemed so much more carefree. He often wished to go back to that time when the only things that weighed on yours and his shoulders were school or silly childish arguments.

As he approached the old grocery store, closed just a few years prior, he was surprised to learn that it was now under new ownership. The familiar place of his childhood was now a small trendy café, popular with college students and young couples.

To his astonishment—and, perhaps, also relief—the vibrant hydrangea garden in the back remained. Bushes of the white, blue, and pink flowers bloomed in the garden, showing that its new owner took well care of the plants. They looked like the hydrangeas of his childhood, of those long summer afternoons that never seemed to end as he and you made this place just another secret hideout only you two would ever know. As he walked down a beaten path, distracted, he was stirred out of his nostalgic thoughts when he felt something bumped into his leg. He peered down, surprised to see a little girl in a light orange dress, the same color as the sunset he used to see in his airplane when he was a pilot, was clinging to his leg. He looked around, not seeing any adult in sight to indicate they were the child’s guardian.

He furrowed his brows, a little in annoyance, as he was not prepared to suddenly be grappled with the responsibility of a lost child. He knelt down lower, and immediately, he startled as he took in the little girl’s appearance, a near perfect carbon copy of you, but the eyes—he stared into sweet little violet eyes that mirrored his own, seeing his shocked face reflected in these orbs. The girl looked up at him with curiosity, the wind swaying her short bob while a little yellow chunky cartoon airplane hairclip held her side bangs in place.

Suddenly, she started tearing up, breaking Caleb out of his trance and for the first time in a while, he felt panicked, unsure of what to do. The girl started to cry and Caleb immediately lifted her up, her head resting onto his shoulder as he rubbed her back and soothed her.

He shushed her gently, his caregiver instinct reignited after years of dormancy. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked her gently, his soothing voice a complete opposite to the tone he used as colonel.

The girl sobbed. She looked so young, Caleb realized, surmising that she probably had barely started learning to speak.

“Are you lost?” he asked in that same tender tone despite knowing the child would be unable to answer him. He continued, “You miss your mommy, don’t you?”

He rubbed her back again, wondering with trepidation if this child’s mother was who he thought it would be. For just a second, his heart stopped when he felt the little girl gripping the fabric of his uniform with her small hands. Quickly, he recomposed himself.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, his hand smoothed the back of her hair. “Let’s go look for your Mommy, alright?”

“Ma...ma…” the girl struggled to say. She rubbed her face against Caleb’s shoulder, and he smiled gently, unbothered that his once pristine uniform was now covered in a child’s snot.

“Okay, mama,” he repeated, “I’ll help you find your mama, sweetheart.”

When he was just about to turn around to head back to the café, he froze again, hearing a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in years. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, actually feeling every heavy thump as the seconds passed and the voice grew closer, a name cried out—the little girl’s.

The child in his arms wriggled, and cried louder, seeing her mother over Caleb’s shoulder. “Mama! Mama!”

Stiffly, Caleb knelt lower and gently set the girl down to her feet, barely registering as the child toddled passed him to her mother.

A completely different feminine voice called out, angry. “Were you trying to kidnap a child in broad dayli—”

Caleb stood up and turned around, his face pale.

“Cale…Caleb?” You stared in shock, feeling like you were seeing his ghost again. Again.

“Mama…Mama…!” Your daughter nuzzled her face against your chest as you held her. You broke out of your trance and instantly redirected your attention to your child. You quickly soothed her, well aware that Caleb’s eyes were locked on you, his face just as shocked as yours but for entirely different reasons. Once the little girl calmed down you passed her off to your companion, saying, “Tara, take her back to the café.”

Tara looked at you worriedly, her eyes darting to Caleb with suspicion. One look into Caleb’s eyes, seeing that same, perfect shade of purple, and the young woman quickly understood the situation. She nodded quietly and took the girl from you. “Come on, sweetie, auntie Tara is going to buy you a cupcake, okay?”

You waited until Tara and your daughter were out of sight. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to look at him, to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you, to make sure that this was not an illusion, not a cruel, mocking figment of your imagination. But you couldn’t. You felt cowardly in that instance, being afraid of the truth. Afraid of his reaction. Of everything.

“You were…you were pregnant?” he questioned, feeling a wave of guilt washed over him.

Just hearing those words made you realized this was him. This was Caleb, the man you thought was taken away from you. Again.

Suddenly, you broke down crying and you looked up at him with tears running down your cheeks.

“Caleb, you dummy,” you sobbed, “You fucking dummy!”

He gasped, unprepared when you rushed at him and started beating his chest half-heartedly with your small fists as you continued to sob and curse him over and over again. He let you carry out your anger, let you punished him as you saw fit in this moment, but when the punches weakened, he gently grabbed your wrists, lowering them to your sides before his arms wrapped around you in comfort, his apologies immediate.

“Yeah,” he agreed in that ever familiar soft and gentle tone reserved only for you, “I am a fucking dummy.”

You sniffled against his chest, gripping tightly the lapel of his coat.

The afternoon passed slowly, initially tensed and awkward, but eventually all of the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you both struggled to come to terms with the picture of the missing years. You peered at the man to your side, seeing Caleb hunched over, his cap in his lap, looking much like a sinner struggling to come to terms with his wrongs.

“You didn’t know,” you whispered after a while, wanting to break this stifling silence. You reached for his arm, but he tensed before his shoulders slumped again.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, looking up at you. He started to reach for your cheek, hesitating at the last second, as if he was afraid that you would recoil from his touch. He started to pull back but you grabbed at his hand, guiding it to your cheek. He stared in shock as you nuzzled your face against his palm, and you gazed at him with glistened eyes.

“You’re not allowed to die again,” you scolded him. “Promise me that.”

He nodded numbly, his voice clear and steady. “I promise,” he said, repeating in a more hushed, firm tone, “I promise.”

He leaned forward, guiding your lips to his, his words still repeating in between breath. You let him drown you in his kisses, let yourself dizzied and relent to his feverish promises. When your lips parted, just a few centimeters, his warm breath grazed over your trembling lips before he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I... will you…”

You looked up, seeing the struggles in his violet eyes. He appeared to hesitate again, unsure of what right he had to seek your forgiveness, wondering if he was overstepping the boundary between the two of you.

You gently coaxed him, seeing relief washed over his guilty features. “Will I what?”

“Will you…let me make things right?” he asked, “Let me…earn your forgiveness. I…please…”

He almost wanted to say, I can’t lose you again but the words died at his lips. He, of all people, had no rights to utter such words in your presence. He looked so defeated, beaten down to the point he no longer recognized himself anymore.

You took his hand, just like you always seemed to do, and you pulled him to his feet, to his surprise. He gazed at you questionably, his heart stopping at your words.

“Caleb,” you said his name so sweetly, “I want you to meet…our daughter.”

The summer air was warm even as the sky darkened, and stars after stars appeared above to illuminate the world below. The gentle breeze ruffled Caleb’s hair as he stared down at the sleeping girl in his arms. Maybe it was because she was still so young and impressionable, or perhaps she could already sense who he was to her, but the girl clung to him immediately, already feeling safe and protected in his presence.

His heart felt heavy, overwhelmed by guilt, a feeling of failure, and also of self-loathing, but as he gazed down at his daughter, another feeling stirred, just as intense but much more forgiving. He didn’t think he could feel such love as he did now as he peered down at the sleeping girl, nuzzled against him on his lap, peacefully slumbering away.

He wondered what she was dreaming of as he admired how much she resembled her mother. Hesitantly, he let his finger caressed her cheek, in complete, silent awe at how soft and delicate her skin was. He was almost afraid of hurting her, feeling a need to protect her just as he protected her mother. He looked up at you, his cheeks and ears reddening when he realized you had been laughing at his expense.

“It’s alright,” you told him amid your giggles.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“You deserve it, you big dummy.”

He let out a huff, in mock annoyance, but he agreed with you. “Alright,” he conceded, “I deserve it.”

“Do you want to begin your path to seeking forgiveness from us?” you asked him, a playful, teasing lilt in your voice, unmissed by Caleb as he raised a brow in curiosity.

“Just like that?” he questioned, confused by your leniency with him.

You nodded. “You still love me, right?”

“I’ve never stopped,” he said, his solemn words had you blushing against your better judgment, your heart quickening when he looked at you so lovelorn. You quickly composed yourself, returning to your mischievousness from seconds ago.

“You love her, right?” you asked, your eyes shifting to your sleeping daughter in his arms.

He sighed, mesmerized. “So much already,” he whispered, and again, you found yourself softening, touched by his sincerity.

“Okay, we’ll forgive you,” you answered, catching Caleb’s attention as he looked at you almost bemused by your easygoing attitude. “First step.”

“Which is?”

“You have to make us your specialty,” you said, laughing at Caleb’s look of complete bewilderment unfit for a colonel of his status. Clearly, you had blindsided him completely with this first condition. You clarified with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, “You have to make your braised chicken wings.”

He stared at you as if not comprehending your words. You laughed and leaned closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I ate a lot of braised chicken wings while pregnant,” you said, reminiscing to that lonely period in your life without his presence. You reached over and brushed your daughter’s flyaway hair out of her face, continuing softly, “But they weren’t as good as yours.”

Caleb let out a huff of breath, a soft, resigned laugh as he readjusted his arm, letting it wrapped around you as he pulled you closer into his embrace. He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “Okay,” he answered, “I take it she also likes braised chicken wings then?”

You leaned into him, nodding once. “She’ll love yours more,” you said, and then looked up, your heart quickening again as you gazed into his beautiful violet eyes, grateful that your daughter had chosen to inherit this sole feature from her father. Breathlessly, you uttered softly, your words for his ears only, “She’ll love you.”

“And you?” he whispered back, that same hesitancy still prominent in his tone. He looked at you expectantly as he asked, “Do you still love me?”

“I’ve never stopped,” you echoed his words back to him, continuing in that same hushed tone, “I’ll always love my dummy Caleb.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice resigned, holding you just a bit tighter, as if he was afraid this was a cruel, taunting dream he would wake up from.

As Caleb watched your eyes closed, he looked down, eyes darting from you to his daughter, and he wondered if he deserved any of this. In the warm summer night, surrounded by the blossoming blue and pink and white hydrangeas, he silently apologized for his mistakes, promising that for the remainder of his life, he would become a better man, deserving of both of you.

Just like the little boy from long ago, once he had made a promise to you, he would never break it.

He swore it on his life.

[prettydeeryess]

i hate mischaracterization except when it's with a character so cold and/or reserve in the og material that reading about them being extremely down bad for y/n in plain sight while all the other characters are their normal selfs so they are weird tf out by that demonstration of affection coming from them is satisfying, fills the hole inside of me fr

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 (𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨) + 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨

notes ✥ i think his eyes would give starry sparkle bright flicker when he's jealous ehehe

content ✥ gn!reader, murphy and cat is my fav genre

“Dream, look!”

Morpheus stops his track when you suddenly exclaim excitedly, shaking his arm. His eyes travel to the direction you’re pointing at and he sees a rotund black cat walking towards the both of you. You gasp and crouch, making a gesture with your hand to call the cat to you. 

“Come here, kitty.” You say softly. The black cat meows and jogs towards you. His belly jiggles and you squeal in adoration. The friendly cat bumps his head against your hand, purring. 

“He’s so friendly, aww…” You coo as you carefully carry the cat into your arms. You look at Morpheus and a little smile is already on his face. His dark irises are not on the cat, however. Rather, they’re firmly on you.

“Don’t you think he’s cute?” You say. Morpheus looks at the cat. The cat meows at him, his fluffy paw clawing the air in front of the Dream King.

“Yes, he is.”

“Ah, right. Didn’t your sibling, Desire, say that you tend to turn into a cat—”

“Desire,” Morpheus cuts you off. His voice is firm and layered with a little irk towards his sibling. “Desire was merely jesting. I advise you to not trust their words, lest you would succumb to their cruel tricks.”

“… Right…” You snicker. You turn to the fat cat, giggling at the way the cat squints his eyes at you, so lovingly. “But don’t you think being a cat has its benefits? Like, everyone just loves you.” You smooch the black cat, causing him to meow. “And you would be taken care of all of your life. You just have to look cute and sit in a box!” You kiss the cat again. 

For a second, Morpheus’ eyes flicker and you certainly do not miss that. That flicker is bright—a sudden light from within the void.

“It would certainly be an easy life.” Morpheus nods. His voice is dark and sultry, yet very soft. “Your clothes are dusty now.”

“Huh?” You look down at yourself, realising how your shirt has some grass and dirt on it. You scoff, kissing the cat again. “You’ve been playing a lot, kitty? Yeah, you do,” You giggle before you kiss the cat’s head once more. 

Morpheus’ eyes flicker. Again. 

You look at him, one eyebrow perks up. You grin teasingly at him. “Dream, don’t tell me you’re jealous of some kisses on a cat?”

“Not at all.” He says, poutily.

Yet his eyes flicker again. 

©doukeshi-kun 2025 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[dreamyblanket]

DRAGON COOKIE Y/N /nf

but instead of the imposing structure. They’re floofy.. (marshmallow fluff dragon)

I thought this was a super cute idea!! I choose a more sheep look for them so they were more cuddly //^^//

[roguelov]

Had a random brainwave

Imagine Morpheus and his human love have a petty argument and she threatens him with a DREAMCATCHER

basically uses it like a cross to a vampire as a joke to stop the argument

Thoughts 👀

And prayers because he might be pissed 😂

“I told you -“

“No, I don’t care -“

“You are being unreasonable -“

“You know what?” You pulled out a small dream catcher from your pocket - a cute charm you found a few days prior. You lifted it up towards him, jokingly and partially curious if anything would happen. “Goodbye, Dream. We are done with this pointless conversation.”

Morpheus’s eyes flickered down to the dream catcher. You couldn’t be serious, could you? He raised an eyebrow, now more so unamused. “And what is this?”

“It’s a -“

“I know what it is, I am inquiring as to why you believed such a thing would work.”

You stuttered out a bit, “Ah, well, it wards off nightmares and such, so wouldn’t it affect you?“

Morpheus’s lips thinned slightly. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Not even a little bit?”

Morpheus calmly walked towards you and your raised hand. He walked until your hand bumped agaisnt his chest, and the dream catcher pressed into his shirt. He cocked his head as if saying ‘see? Nothing’.

You puckered your lips, a little frustrated it had no effect whatsoever. It was a joke of an idea truly, but it had no effect at all? You huffed and dropped your hand from him. “Well that’s stupid,” you grumbled.

“Did you truly think a petty woven net would stop me?” Morpheus asked.

“… I mean … not really but the thought of it was funny enough to try.”

Morpheus stepped in closer. “Perhaps on one of my nightmares, yes it may ward them off. But to me, The King of Nightmares? You will need something far more powerful.”

“… not even a little bit of irritation?” You mumbled curiously.

“Do you believe me to be a vampire of sorts?”

You winced, “Um, no, but -“

Morpheus surprised you, he laughed once through his nose. He shook his head and whispered under his breath, “You and your strange thoughts.”

You huffed. “It was a perfectly logical idea given who you are.”

“Your way of thinking is very limited to the stories around you, there is far much more to the universe.”

“… whatever.”

Morpheus smiled to himself. “It is a trait I adore in you, do not mistake it for anything else.”

You stared into his eyes for a moment, finding the love pouring out of them. You then smiled at him.

“But,” Morpheus added, “if you try such a thing about it may not end well for you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Morpheus’s eyes then twinkled with delight. He leaned down to your ear. “You may find yourself caught in intricate ropes and woven within my grasp if you try again.”

[mandalhoerian]

childhood friends who became family, who blurred the lines of sibling-tight bonds and something softer, sharper, and more yearning — it's a trope that feels like sitting in the quiet hum of a summer evening when the sun lingers too long on the horizon. because the truth of it is: nothing lingers forever. and you both know that, but you’ll still talk about the old days like maybe you can bring them back. like maybe if you name the memories, you can summon them. like if you say, “remember when we built that fort in the back garden and swore to live there forever because i had a fight with gran,” it’ll mean something now that the garden has been bulldozed and forever has been whittled down to awkward meetings where you can't talk about the elephant in the room.

it’s the uneven ground of being the one who died and the one who was left behind, or the one who grew and the one who wanted to keep the other captured the way they used to be in a snowglobe — or maybe just the realization that you’re both standing on shifting sand now. you talk about the past like it’s a shared secret, but neither of you knows how to talk about the present. maybe you’ve started running out of things to say because the summer nights you used to fill with fun and games are quieter now, and you don’t know how to breach the distance between you that yawns exponentially bigger every single day.

because that’s the ache of it, isn’t it? thinking you’ve grown together, but ending up having grown apart in the blink of an eye. the ache of seeing his face and realizing you don’t know him the way you used to — not like when you could read the curl of his lips or the way he bit the inside of his cheek and know exactly what he was thinking. you still know the shape of caleb, the blueprint of who he was, but he's a house rebuilt in the same place, and you’re standing on the porch like a stranger.

and you miss the summers, the cicadas, sleeping on the floor together with the attic window wide open, sharing ice cream together and being carried because of a scraped knee. even being scolded you refused mosquito spray because you hated the smell. you miss the easy, endless days of being inseparable and being spoiled rotten because time didn’t mean anything then. now, every second feels like a countdown. you sit across from him at a diner, laughter ringing too alien because it doesn’t reach his eyes the way it used to, and you’re counting the minutes until he leaves for skyhaven. or maybe it’s until you leave, because isn’t that the worst realization? there's always a deadline. you tell yourself it’s enough that you were everything to each other once, and there's still something between you like the transition between summer to autumn. but there’s a kind of grief in knowing you’ll never be those kids again, barefoot in the grass, shouting at the stars.

grief. you thought you knew it well.

because you know how to grieve a death — you’ve rehearsed it in your head, folded it into something manageable. it’s a well-worn myth, a story you tell yourself when the silence gets too loud: he’s gone. he’s not coming back. you cried once, twice, a hundred times in the soft, gold-light glow of dusk, in the places you once knew together, and you thought that was the worst part.

but then caleb came back. and now you don’t know what to do with yourself.

because it’s him, isn’t it? same voice, same face, same hands that once shoved you playfully into the lake on a summer afternoon. he looks at you with eyes that are so painfully familiar you want to throw up, but something in them is off — like a song played just a fraction of a second too slow. like the ghost of a childhood home, walls the same but empty, the warmth gone.

you want to say, you’re different. you want to say, what happened to you? but all he says, over and over, with that too-smooth, too-homey certainty is, i’ve always been like this.

and that’s the part that burns. because no, he hasn’t. you would know, wouldn’t you? you spent summers mapping out the topography of his voice, the way it cracked when he laughed too hard, the way he whispered conspiratorial plans under the sheets when you were supposed to be sleeping. you knew his every restless fidget, every dream he had about taking you away to somewhete but never actually going through with it. you would know if this was always him. wouldn’t you?

but what if you’re the one who’s wrong?

the memories are there, but they feel like borrowed pages from someone else’s story now. he tells you, remember when we built a treehouse in the oak by the creek? and you nod, it's like he's trying to coax the sparks out. remember how you used to hum under your breath when you were nervous? and he smiles, but it’s an aching, tight thing.

so you sit there, across from him, trying to measure the distance between the boy you knew and the man wearing his face. he talks about the past like maybe he can drag you back to it. like maybe he can make you remember. but you're here, waiting for him to join you in the present.

but the worst part isn’t the change.

the worst part is the knowing that he’s still here. still breathing, still existing, still talking to you. and yet he’s light-years away with the you of the past.

[hexxedcore]

What would Yandere Viktor be like in this 2nd season? Of course if you want, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable making this yandere topic

not an uncomfortable question at all, anon! in fact i love viktor and i love yandere tropes even more ❤️

WARNINGS: YANDERE, unhealthy / toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, delusion (mostly religiously fuelled if i’m being honest), codependency

I’m a firm believer that Viktor wouldn’t be a yandere who imposes him physically. This is a man who is speculative and used to hiding away in the shadows — he demonstrates everything with well planted seeds of deceit and doubt.

Now, Season Two Viktor? With what we know, it’s up to so much speculation regarding what his motives are and what’s going to happen next — but this specific trope is so rich in the potential it has depending on who you present yourself as to him. A devoted follower? An estranged lover who sought him out after he abruptly left? A Zaunite attempting to stop the hold he has on his vulnerable disciples?

I’ll be covering the disciple trope below but will gladly create more posts for the others.

DISCIPLE READER:

You come to him in a moment of desperation, having heard of the whispers scattered through dark alleyways of Zaun that there was a mage who possessed the capability to heal any wound he was presented with. A miracle worker in the flesh.

It was a opportunity impossible to pass up. Everyone had been scrambling for an opportunity to meet him, have him cure their lung ailments or their Shimmer addictions.

Despite being tentative going into the belly of Zaun, you were admittedly shocked by the abundance of life in what had once been deemed the slums. People who were rumoured to be disfigured and marred purple were walking around, regarding you with inviting smiles, soft skin, full eyes.

When Viktor first spotted you wandering his growing compound, lost, he was absolutely entranced. For a moment he was left wondering why everyone was so adamant on worshipping him, when the obvious miracle here was you. You’re just so pure, so perfect, that even the Hexcore is adamant in prolonging your visit.

You approached him with hopes of a cure to the infection that had been riddling your lungs due to the Gray being released to the Undercity. Viktor wasn't in a state to do anything but oblige.

For as much as you heard of his cures being instantaneous and life-changing, yours had been painfully slow. Viktor reassured that due to the unique nature of the Gray, the Arcane was reacting in unpredictable ways. Therefore; you should make yourself at home. Stay, for the time being.

It wasn't difficult to settle in with how amiable the other 'followers' were, as they enjoyed calling themselves. It also wasn't surprising, considering how reverently respectful Viktor had been treating you. As though you were a deity of his own, despite your lack of impressive actions.

It almost made you forget about the swelling cough that persisted in your chest, or the fact you’ve forgotten how long it’s been since you’ve even begun your stay.

Needless to say, you don’t plan to leave this routine anytime soon. He doesn’t plan on allowing you, either.

[downbadf0rficppl]

iced caramel latte

Dream x F!Reader

Summary: Dream may come to the cafe to see his friend, but you are evermore intriguing. When Dream finds out that you rarely sleep - he seems to have found his next experiment. What if you're more than that?

Word Count: 3.6K

AN: Dream is very OOC in this (sorry) but apart from that it's literally just fluff. I don't know where this came from but I blame it on the flu. Hope you enjoy!!

It was unlike Dream to be standing in front of a mortal café at this hour. By all accounts, he was almost seventy years early for this meeting, but he had promised Hob that he wouldn’t leave the meetings so long this time. And, perhaps, secretly, he was happy to have a friend.

Standing outside the small café a few streets down from the pub, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, he could see Hob sat at the counter, a grimace painted on his face. A small stack of papers piled next to him, Dream chuckled. His friend was not one to slow down. Ever. In fact, this café was just another one of Hob’s attempts at keeping busy. He had bought this place after the pub became one of the most popular gastropubs in the area. It inspired him to buy another. And then another. This café was the latest in a long line of (less-than-smart) investments. 

The café was a small, welcoming place that was popular among the crowd of local university students. The scent of coffee and ink permeated the air, curling into the quiet hum of conversation and the clatter of porcelain.

A girl passed by Hob, grabbing a few mugs, and seemingly cracking a joke, seeing as Hob turned his head towards her and he burst out laughing, throwing his head back in the delightful way that only Hob could. Dream smiled slightly.

The bell above the door announced his entrance and both Hob and the girl turned to face him as he made his way to the counter.

“Didn’t think you were the café type,” Hob mused, gesturing to the seat opposite him.

Dream regarded the chair for a moment before lowering himself into it. He had no need for human comforts, yet something about the space felt... grounding. Hob slid a steaming cup toward him. “Coffee?”

Dream barely glanced at it. “I have no need for mortal stimulants.”

Hob chuckled.

Dream’s attention drifted elsewhere, drawn by a quiet presence moving through the space. You. There was something familiar about you, though he did not yet understand why. The rhythm of your steps, the ease with which you carried the weight of exhaustion, stirred his curiosity. He found himself speaking before he had even decided to do so.

“I’ll have whatever the lady recommends.”

“The lady?” You laugh, “Never heard that one before.”

Hob blinked, before bursting into laughter. Dream simply waited. 

Hob’s smirk widened. “Oi, love,” he called, drawing your attention. “Bring us whatever your favourite is, will you?”

You glanced between the two of them, curiosity flickering in your gaze before you nodded. A few moments later, you returned and placed a drink in front of him—a chilled cup with golden swirls threading through the ice. “Here you go. My personal favourite.”

Dream lifted the glass, taking a slow, deliberate sip. He had expected something rich and bitter, perhaps reminiscent of the dark depths of human longing. Instead, the overpowering sweetness clung to his tongue, thick and cloying. He coughed, setting the cup down with an uncharacteristic flicker of surprise.

Hob roared with laughter. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, and Dream turned his gaze to you. The sound of your laughter, light and genuine, resonated within him in a way he did not fully understand. He allowed the corner of his lips to curve, just slightly.

“Lucienne?” Dream called out as he wandered through the vast halls of his Library. His shoes tapped against the floor as he traced his fingers along the endless shelves.

“Yes, my lord?” Lucienne responded, jumping down from the ladder on which she was perched.

“I seek a book,” Dream said, his voice echoing through the grand chamber.

Lucienne nodded, “Their name?”

He spoke it, your name lingering in the air like a whispered secret. Lucienne’s eyes flickered with surprise at Dream’s inflection, but she turned to search the shelves without a word. Dream watched as she moved efficiently, fingers ghosting over spines that pulsed with the memories of dreamers. But as the minutes stretched on, she hesitated.

Lucienne frowned. “That’s… odd.”

Dream stepped forward. “What is it?”

Lucienne turned back to him, her brows furrowed in concern, a thin book in her hands. “There’s no entry. Not one.”

A rare flicker of confusion crossed Dream’s expression. “Impossible. Every dreamer has entries.”

Lucienne hesitated before meeting his gaze. “Unless they’re not.” At his confusion, she elaborates, “A dreamer. What if they do not dream?”

Silence settled between them. Dream’s mind turned, considering the implications. A mortal without an entry in their book —without a single dream to call their own—was a rarity. An anomaly.

And yet, as he recalled the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you carried the weight of sleeplessness with such resigned acceptance, he realized the truth of it.

You did not dream because you did not sleep.

For the first time in a long while, something within Dream stirred. A curiosity. A question. A pull toward the sleepless mortal who had unknowingly drawn the attention of the Lord of Dreams himself.

To everyone’s surprise, the next night, Dream found himself at your doorstep.

It was not often that he visited mortals outside the realm of dreams. And yet, here he stood, a figure of shadow and starlight against the quiet hum of the city. He did not knock, but you noticed him anyway—perhaps you had felt the shift in the air, or perhaps you were simply used to the strange.

You opened the door, blinking up at him with tired eyes, unsurprised. “You found me,” you said, voice warm with amusement rather than fear.

Dream stepped forward. “You do not sleep.”

A beat passed before you shrugged. “Never have.”

He studied you, expecting denial, discomfort—something. Instead, you tilted your head, unbothered. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping,” you admitted. “Ever since I was a kid.”

Dream frowned. “Why?”

Another shrug. “No reason. Sometimes, I just… don’t.”

He was silent for a moment, searching your expression as though the answer might be buried there. You met his gaze without hesitation, unshaken by the weight of it.

“This is unnatural,” Dream finally said, more to himself than to you.

You smiled wryly. “It’s normal for me.”

Dream did not like that answer. Sleep was meant to be a comfort, a necessity—his gift to mortals, whether they realized it or not. And yet, you had gone without it for so long that your exhaustion had become part of you, worn like a second skin.

“Do you wish to sleep?” he asked, voice softer now.

You hesitated, the question heavier than you expected. Finally, you exhaled. “Sometimes.”

That was all the answer Dream needed.

He raised a hand, fingers brushing lightly against your temple. A warmth bloomed in his touch, soothing and unfamiliar. Your eyelids grew heavy, and for the first time in a long time, you felt the pull of sleep.

As you swayed, Dream caught you before you could fall. With careful hands, he guided you to your bed, watching as you surrendered to the quiet oblivion of dreams. And as he stood over you, watching the steady rise and fall of your breath, Dream found himself lingering longer than he should have.

The following night, you found yourself lying awake in your room, the soft moonlight filtering through the window. The world beyond seemed distant, muffled in its own stillness. Yet, as you drifted into sleep, the familiar sensation of being pulled into the Dreaming swirled around you. This time, however, something felt different.

You stood at the foot of a large castle, its spires looming tall and towers shimmering with faint, unearthly light. The stone beneath your feet was warm, as though the castle itself pulsed with life. As you stepped forward, a presence emerged from the shadows, his recognisable black coat giving him away. Dream stood tall, regal, his dark robes billowing slightly in the non-existent breeze. His pale face was unreadable, but his eyes… they lingered on you with an unfamiliar softness.

"You’re… here?" Dream asked, his voice low but edged with something you couldn’t quite place. There's a flicker of surprise, followed by curiosity.

"Couldn’t stay away," you replied, a playful edge to your voice. There was an ease between you now, as if you’d always belonged here, even though the reality of it was quite different. He studied you quietly, as though weighing the moment.

"Come," he said, stepping aside to let you enter. "I was not expecting company, but I am not displeased." His lips curled into the faintest of smiles, a small, uncharacteristic gesture. You followed him deeper into the castle, the walls whispering softly with the echoes of dreamers' thoughts. He led you to a tall balcony, where the whole Dreaming was visible beneath you. Your mouth dropped open of its own accord. It was stunning. To your left, Dream only smiled.

As the night progressed, you spoke - about the realms of dreams, about your own world, and the surrealness of this place. Dream listened intently, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. He seemed fascinated, as if there was a part of him that finds something new and intriguing in your presence. You, too, began to feel it—the pull, the way Dream seemed to understand you in ways others didn’t. 

As dawn approached, you bid him goodbye as he set off to do his duty. There was something lingering as he bid you goodnight, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go. You shook your head. You were seeing things that weren’t there. Still, you left a soft kiss on his cheek, as your vision faded to black and you woke up in your own bed. You scoffed at the pinking of his cheeks that you thought you saw as you closed your eyes.

The following night, Dream arrived earlier than expected, standing at the edge of the castle once more. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, though now his expression seemed softer, less guarded. When you appeared, he gestured toward the castle, but this time, there was a certain eagerness in his movements.

"I thought," Dream began, his voice almost uncertain, "that you might like to meet some of my… creations." His eyes flickered away from yours for a moment, then returned, brimming with something almost shy.

You could only nod.

The first person to meet was Lucienne - Dream's right hand, you nicknamed her.

Tall, regal, and striking in her stillness, she was surrounded by towering shelves of books that stretched beyond what seemed possible. She was focused, her brow furrowed as she carefully adjusted the placement of a book on one of the shelves. Her appearance was immaculate, her dark hair braided in a complex pattern, her eyes sharp and intelligent. There was an air of calm wisdom about her that made you feel as though you were in the presence of something far greater than you could comprehend.

"Ah, Dream has brought you here," she said softly, without turning to face you, her voice smooth and warm. "You must be the new arrival. I am Lucienne, the librarian of the Dreaming."

She turned to you then, offering a kind, welcoming smile. Her gaze was kind but assessing, as if she were quickly measuring you. "It is an honor to meet someone from the waking world," she continued, the smile never fading. "I manage the stories, the dreams, the knowledge of this place. Everything that happens here is recorded in some form or another."

You nodded, somewhat awestruck. There was a gravity to her presence that made you feel both small and important at the same time.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked, her tone inviting but controlled, as if she had seen all manner of souls wandering through the Dreaming.

Before you could respond, there was a loud, gruff voice from behind you.

"Lucienne, I’m not sure that book belongs there! You know how I feel about misplaced…" The voice trailed off as a figure appeared in the doorway—a squat, pumpkin-headed man, his face carved into a permanent frown. He wore a janitor’s uniform, though it was a little worse for wear, and a cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes, barely visible beneath his pumpkin head, flicked between you and Lucienne.

"This is Mervyn," Lucienne said with a barely contained sigh, though her expression softened with a hint of affection. "He’s our… custodian of sorts."

Mervyn rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod, the smoke from his cigarette swirling around him like a tiny storm. "Nice to meet you, I suppose. Watch out for the dust in here, it’ll choke a person. And try not to knock anything over, we don’t want the big guy—" He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling, "—to come down here yelling."

Before you could ask who he meant, a dark shape flitted across the room—a raven, perched on the windowsill. Its sharp eyes studied you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. The raven cawed loudly, flapping its wings slightly as it hopped onto a nearby chair.

"And this is Matthew," Lucienne said, her voice filled with quiet amusement. "He’s one of Dream’s newer companions."

Matthew the raven cocked his head, giving you a sharp look before hopping closer to Lucienne’s side. He gave a low croak, as if offering a greeting of sorts, though his attention never wavered from you.

"You’ll get used to the oddities of this place," Lucienne added with a smile, before gesturing for you to follow her deeper into the castle.

As you walked through the winding halls, you eventually arrived at a large, open space where two figures stood facing each other, bickering loudly.

"Cain, Abel," Lucienne greeted them, her tone even, though there was a hint of warmth there.

They turned to face the three of you, bowing as they caught sight of Dream. Dream leaned his mouth towards your ear: "Constant property disputes, those two. Never satisfied."

You hid your laugh behind a cough.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Both Cain and Abel bowed to you, before bursting into another argument about who's bow was better. Before anyone could say anything.

Before you could respond, a massive form appeared behind them—an enormous dragon, its scales gleaming like emeralds, its eyes glowing with an ancient wisdom. The dragon’s wings folded against its back as it lowered its head to greet you, its breath warm and heavy, though not threatening.

"This," Dream said with a small smile, "is Gregory - a gift of mine to Cain and Abel." Gregory came up to you slowly, sniffing not unlike a dog. You reached out your hand and waited patiently. Gregory sniffed your hand slowly before jumping up and licking your face. You laughed out loud: it turns out dragons are exactly like dogs.

You bid adieu to Cain and Abel and disappeared to the balcony again. As the evening wore on, Dream’s interest in you never waned—it had only deepened. The way he watched you when you spoke, the subtle way his fingers brushed against yours when he handed you something, all of it spoke of a growing, unspoken affection. It wasn’t clear to you, but he was all too aware: Dream, the Lord of the Dreaming, one of the Endless, had begun to harbour feelings for you.

Dream sits with you on the balcony as you stare up at the stars. His eyes rove over your face - almost as if he's searching for every answer on your face.

"What?" You chuckle, turning to face him, head leaning against the railing, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Nothing you shouldn't? Are you expecting there to be something there?"

Your chuckle turns into a snort as you realise that Dream has never heard that saying before. You try to explain it but give up as Dream's face contorts into more and more confusion.

"Why do you not sleep?"

You suppose you shouldn't be surprised by the question, given that predicament is what led you here in the first place, but it still catches you off guard.

"Umm, I guess I don't know?" You say sitting up properly. "I've never really slept well - my mother always used to say that it was the one bad thing I did as a child. I was just never tired, according to her."

"You didn't feel the need to sleep?" Dream was surprised.

"I suppose, sleeping was lonely - my mother spent a lot of time sleeping as a girl because of the sickness," that made a lot of sense to Dream, "so maybe that had something to do with it. And, I suppose, as I got older, sleeping felt unnecessary because it was lonely."

"What do you mean?"

"I just felt like..." You turned away from him to admit this next bit because you now felt embarrassed that you even thought this way, "Everyone else had dreams to keep them company while they slept. I never had any of that."

You were surprised when Dream took your hand.

"You'll never be lonely here again."

Dream waited for you at the gates again, his black coat flowing around him as the wind picked up. You were late. He was disappointed. And apparently - tonight - disappointment meant winds that were rustling all throughout the dreaming. You were supposed to be here on time tonight. Dream had promised to show you the most beautiful place in the Dreaming - Fiddler's Green, of course, nearly everyone in the Dreaming would agree - and you had almost screamed in excitement when he explained it to you. But now, you were nowhere to be seen.

Hours of waiting later, he decided to check on you. Just because friends look out for each other. No other reason. He briefly thought of sending Matthew, but he knew that Matthew would be slow and may get distracted. Endless don’t get distracted.

Your bedroom window was large and faced away from the street, but there were many street cats in your area. Your fence was not that high - that would have to be fixed - but your window sill was a comfortable place to sit. A small light lit up your entire room. The reason you had not shown up at the dreaming that night, was because you had not fallen asleep 

He had not expected it—not after the last time, when he had guided you gently into slumber, ensuring you found rest within the Dreaming. And yet, here you were, sitting up in bed, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, stubbornly clinging to wakefulness.

“You resist sleep once more,” Dream observed, his voice quiet, edged with something that was not quite concerned but close to it.

You huffed a quiet, tired laugh, rubbing at your temples. “Dream? What are you doing here?”

Dream studied you, his pale gaze unreadable. “Why?”

You hesitated, shoulders curling inward slightly. He could see the weight pressing on you, something heavier than just exhaustion. The words slipped out before you could stop them, slow and drowsy, as if your defences were weakened by fatigue.

“Because I love you.”

The room felt impossibly still.

Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and yet it echoed between you. You swallowed, staring down at your hands, as if regretting saying it out loud. But in your haze of exhaustion, you kept talking.

“I—” You exhaled shakily. “I didn’t want things to be awkward. I didn’t want to ruin anything. But also… I didn’t want to let you go.”

Dream did not move, but something in the air shifted, something ancient and careful. He watched you with an unreadable expression, as though he was considering the weight of your words, the way they settled in the space between you.

Then, at last, he spoke.

“I am fascinated by you as well.”

You let out a small, breathless laugh, more of a tired exhale than anything else. “That’s… probably as close as I’m gonna get to you saying it back, huh?”

Dream did not answer. Instead, he stepped forward, his hands curling around your waist, pulling you close to him. His face just above yours - Dream seemed impossibly tall when he was this close to you - you leaned in, his lips ghosting yours. A small smile pulled at his lips as you blinked up at him, blearily. His fingers barely brushed your temple, and a cool stillness washed over you, easing the tension from your bones. Your eyelids fluttered, your body finally giving in.

“Rest,” he murmured, more of a command than a request. You smiled and acquiesced.

The world around you shifted as you drifted deeper, the familiar comfort of Dream’s arms a constant, grounding force. The dreamscape transformed, and when you woke, you weren’t in the Castle of the Dreaming anymore. The scent of fresh grass, the rustle of leaves, the soft hum of life—it all welcomed you into a new place. Fiddler’s Green.

You blinked, your surroundings coming into focus. Dream was still beside you, but now you were lying in a meadow, the sky above a soft blend of twilight colours. The soft hum of wind around you was gentle, calming. You sat up slowly, looking around, amazed by the serenity of the place.

Dream was watching you with quiet affection, a soft smile on his face as he reached for you. Without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his. He didn’t hesitate, cupping your face gently with his hands, as if he’d known this moment would come.

His lips met yours gently at first, a tentative kiss, as though both of you were tasting this newfound connection. And yet, when his arms wrapped around you, drawing you closer, it deepened. Finally, he pulled away, lifting you up gently in his arms. There would be all the time in the world to discover the rest of the Dreaming - and Dream - tomorrow. But for now, it was time to sleep.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i cant really tell if yuu's involvement in ace's character is more for fanservice reasons or because they really did play a part in his character development.

like in nbc we have malleus choosing to focus on finishing the task at hand as quickly as possible so that they can then find the prefect rather than drop everything there at that moment and prioritizing finding yuu. (iirc) and compared to that we have ace who does put a lot of emphasis on finding yuu especially when no one seems to remember it during the halloween event it feels very traditionally fanservice-y ? and i cant really tell where the line is drawn for ace anymore. and you did mention a lot of other points in another post that you made esp with ace's dream recently dropping and the fact that hes the only guy whos dream yuu was actively involved in idk its a little confusing for me i hope im making sense TT no shade to the shippers im just a little slow in comprehending it all bvbvsjdj

your posts are always really neutral and accurate it just helps to clear up a lot of my confusions and questions i have when playing so thank you for your hard work!

[Referencing this post; you might also find this related post useful in the discussion of Ace and Yuu's relationship!]

DISCLAIMER: I do not mean to invalidate or detract from Ace x Yuu or Malleus x Yuu shippers or anyone who may interpret their relationship as romantic. You should ship what you like and have fun doing it. My reply aims to be more objective, but that should NOT impede on your enjoyment or whatever it is you choose to ship.

iufipaerasfeao Thank you for the feedback! I'm glad you find my posts helpful. I try my best to be objective when it comes to analyzing the story and characters, but there's no true way for someone to be completely neutral. There are definitely times when I have an aside to insert my two cents on a situation or I get super heated about a particular topic. Hopefully I still leave enough space for everyone to come to their own conclusions.

I think it's both fanservice and because Yuu actually plays a big part in Ace's character development? Like, it's technically fanservice but it does not feel egregious because it fits Ace’s teasing nature and Ace's bond with Yuu has been established from the start. He was the first student we met at NRC and we spend so much time with him since then; there's no way Yuu wouldn't have had an impact on him, especially when book 7 is now paralleling the two as people with insecurities about being weak/unable to do anything + not contributing enough and Yuu encouraging him when he finally gets his UM.

I commonly see people joking about Malleus having "missed the meeting about Twst not being a dating sim" and holding him up as "the main love interest". (And to be clear, Twst isn't a dating sim, nor do all Twst fans see the characters romantically; I am only speaking about this in a romantic lens in the context of this post.) However, I think there's a very strong case to be made for Ace as well. The thing is, I also feel that Malleus and Ace fundamentally appeal to two different groups of yumejoshi. Malleus is the tall, dark, and mysterious type you can "fix", the type of guy that would burn the world down for you. Ace is the teasing and approachable boy-next-door that has your back and supports you even when the entire world is against you. This is also evident in the ways they're set up in the main story; Malleus is introduced in a way that encourages much more "filling in of the gaps" due to how little he actually shows up in front of Yuu in the main story. It gives the player a lot of space to imagine what their relationship with him is like because there isn't a ton of interactions in canon to go off of. Meanwhile, Ace has many more canonized interactions with Yuu (eating lunch, doing homework, watching movies, playing video games, etc.), so the effort of thinking about what they actually do over the course of their relationship is already done for you. There is an established friendship and connection with Ace, but you barely see Malleus enough to truly have a strong impact on him or to change him. Does that make sense?

IADUPADF9A9FSBdb I do find it sort of funny that Malleus is basically like, "Oh, something unexpected happened (ie Yuu is missing). We'd better solve this." Not really showing much emotion about them being gone in Nightmare. (Malleus only gets annoyed when Leona begins to take charge; he is not mad at the fact that Yuu is gone.) Meanwhile Yuu is missing in Endless Halloween Night and Ace is the FIRST person to excuse himself to check Ramshackle for them.

If you consult the fandom and the fandom alone, you'd think the situation would be reversed. Edit: Malleus does have his moments of intimacy with Yuu (which I won’t be getting into here because then I fear this post would veer into shipping wars), but the English speaking Twst fandom has a VERY strong bias for Malleus x Yuu. Because of that, there is a tendency to misinterpret or misattribute every little thing that Malleus says and does to support the idea that "Yuu is his most important person". (For example, even though Malleus provides no reaction at all when Skully kisses the back of Yuu's hand, many Malleus fans claimed that he would be very jealous or would harm Skully for doing such a thing. In another Halloween event, Glorious Masquerade, people believed he was angry at Rollo for harming Yuu even though this was not the case; the event states that he was mad because the invitation he had been extended was a fake one.)

It is because of thinking like this that a lot of English speakers genuinely believed Malleus would OB in book 7 in a desperate attempt to prevent Yuu from returning to their original world. Misinterpretations, headcanons, misattributions, and personal projections were conflated with canon, leading to many people to believe that Malleus was closer with Yuu than they actually are. Instead, Malleus ended up OBing because he feared Lilia leaving and he barely even considers Yuu after he OBs. And, ironically, Ace is the character whose dream prominently features Yuu and a scenario in which Yuu doesn't have to leave them forever. It was always Ace that we had a strong relationship with, not Malleus.

Ace is often overlooked even though he has far more canon interactions with Yuu in the main story. I think this could maybe to chalked up to a combination of him being "boring" compared to the literal DARK FAE OP CROWN PRINCE M. Draconia over there and the fact that so many of those "gaps" are already filled by the main story. There's less room for imagination because the game has already defined what Ace and Yuu's relationship entails. Malleus is just so much more appealing when it comes to intrigue and mysteriousness. When you look at it objectively though... Yuu only meets Malleus face-to-face like 5-6 times for brief conversations. (Edit: I’m not counting voice lines because those are arguably directed at the player, not Yuu, to endear the character to you and/or all characters get similar voice line fanservice. The canonicity is questionable since the same familiarity in voice lines is not carried over to the main story.) 5-6 times… That's not nearly long enough to make a huge impact or change in his life (unless you as the player extrapolate and imagine more Malleus and Yuu interactions outside of the ones we see in the main story). At best, I think you could say Malleus is glad he can have a special little friend who doesn't know of his name and status? He doesn't really change because of that relationship though. Malleus doesn't even show up until book 2. But Ace has literally been there since the beginning, canonically spends tons of his free time with Yuu, and has been through several near-life experiences with them (several OBs). He has the chance to bond with Yuu. Malleus does not. (He has given Yuu advice once, sent them a card once, and reassembled a stage for them once; all other interactions in the main story are short talks.)

It makes a lot of sense that Ace would be the one "touched" by Yuu's influence, whether you see it as romantic or platonic. Both he and Malleus (and all the other characters, really) get their moments of fanservice--but very few characters' development is directly impacted by Yuu's presence. Yuu might be there for most of the main story, but they actually get only a few moments to engage with the other boys in the cast to the point of actually changing them. It feels like the changes that occur are more often the result of the other boys (Trey standing up to Riddle and holding his hand afterwards, Epel and Deuce bonding on the beach, the twins telling Azul he's lame but also being the first to check up on him following the OB, Idia finalizing his farewells with Ortho, etc.) Ace just so happens to be an exception to that, as Yuu very clearly plays a big role in his development.

[hey-iam-fire-ghost-but-i-write]

the morning bliss he brings

Lord Morpheus x Fem!Reader

not my gif, credits to the owner.

English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes but be nice about it!

Summary: Dream Lord guards your dreams in hope of finding himself in them.

Warnings: literally none? this ones just sweet and fluff and a tiny itsy bitsy angsty? dunno.

Word Count: 2.5K

-

Waking up in the morning was always the hardest part of your day. It was like fighting the need of never leaving your dreams, those perfect places made out of your hopes and wishes. Always drunk in the bliss of resting in a place where your worries wouldn’t chase you.

Slowly —almost sweetly— the chirping birds and the bright sunrays covered your senses coaxing you to come back to the waking world. It always welcomed you with it's warm embrace that never failed to make you feel goosebumps.

But this morning wasn’t just the sun you woke up to.

He looked just like a dream, which was understandable since that was one of his many names.

You love calling him that, Dream. It was the first name of his that he gave you and the one that rolled the sweetest on your tongue.

Morpheus was currently sitting on your armchair, in front of the coffee table. An open book was lying on his lap, probably from your own bookshelf. His eyes were closed and he had his fingers intertwined under his chin.

He definitely knew you were awake, but refused to acknowledge it. Too focused in whatever thought he was stressing himself out with.

You sighed, sleepily still. Rubbing your eyes, you convinced yourself that getting out of the couch was the least of your priorities at the moment. Not when everything around you was designed to make you feel embraced and supported in warmth.

Looking back at your Dream, you smiled. And just when you were about to call for him out loud, someone beat you at talking.

“He’s been like that for ages” you jump a little, taken by surprise by Matthews’ voice sounding too close to you. You turned your head towards him “Not sure what he’s thinking about, though” the black raven, loyal companion of Morpheus, was perched on the back of the same couch you slept the whole night on.

“Probably in that he has to go and feed the birds at the park” you flash a smile to your singular friend, who gave you a way too human-like scoff.

“Please, he doesn’t even feed me” you huff a small laugh at the raven’s joke.

“Perhaps if you didn’t criticize every step I take, you would actually have time to put food in your beak”

Matthew jumped down to rest on your side, his small claws squeezing the skin of your hip softly two times— calling for your attention at his next jab “Someone can’t take a joke” the raven whispered looking at you, only to then turn towards his master “I shall go to the kitchen to press more buttons, my Lord, but this time the coffee machine’s ones” and with that overly played impression of Morpheus’ accent, the bird took flight disappearing in the kitchen in matter of seconds.

You looked at Morpheus with a smile. He was still with his eyes closed “You shouldn’t have taught him that” he said, his words dragging lazily.

You chuckle sweetly, remembering how at the beginning of the week Matthew learnt how to operate the coffee machine without breaking it in the process. Morpheus watched the two of you in silence, knowing better than anyone that your little shenanigans consisted in a ten percent of the goal of learning a new skill and ninety percent in annoying him. It was the way you and his raven bonded: the amusement you both got out of making Morpheus grumpier than usual.

Now, Matthew insisted every morning to make you coffee and you didn’t have the heart to deny the overly sugared mug.

You closed your eyes, snuggling even further under the covers “Good morning, Dream”.

When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you “Good morning” he said with a voice deeper that the ocean you were dreaming about a few minutes ago.

The sun, entering from your window, bathed the whole apartment in a beautiful light. Morpheus, in the center of the scene, looked glorious. Godly like. The warm rays bathing all his features and making him look soft in all the right places.

“I can tell it was a good night sleep”

Your sweet smile turned into an amused one “When I ask for your help to sleep, you didn’t have to watch over me the whole night”

“How else am I going to make sure you’re sleeping well?” he inquired, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Cheeky little god.

You raised an eyebrow “You are the king of the Dreaming, sweetheart”

The corners of his lips pulled totally upwards thanks to the nickname you gave him “With you, it’s not enough” his voice was hushed, a murmur that lulled you into an incredibly flustered state in the most delicious way.

You sighed, trusting that with your eyes closed it wouldn't sound too dreamily “You still can’t find me in there?”

“We’re not sure where you go when you sleep, that is the reason why I need to keep an eye on you for now”

“How is that even possible?”

“Well, you do have the same magic I use to nourish the Dreaming inside of you” he explained “It’s not hard to hypothesize that the reason we don’t find you back home is because you simply don’t want us to”

You nod slowly, wanting to agree with him. You came from a long bloodline filled with magic. Your power was a gift from Dream to one of your ancestors and those same powers bled down your family line for centuries. When you met him, it was the first time someone of your own saw him after a really long time.

At first, he came to you for your magic. Needed it back to retrieve his stolen amulets, the ones he lost to the pretender Roderick Burgess. And when instead of giving him your gifts, you offered him your help… he was intrigued to see firsthand what his powers could give to a simple mortal like you.

But that was a long time ago, when you still wouldn’t call each other a friend and the only worry between the both of you was the possibility of losing your power to the other.

“So, why?” he questioned. You open your eyes to look at him confused, then he insists “Why don’t you want us to find you in there?”

You frowned, dropping your smile “Dream. If I knew I would’ve corrected it already, don’t you think?”

“No nightmares, no bad dreams, only happiness” the man recalled your first conversation on the matter, not even stopping to listen to your point “And you don’t let any other entity to get closer to your mind but me”

"You just said you could not find me in there" because it sounded like he was getting at a dangerous point, an overwhelming conclusion.

"It's not the only way you shared your mind with me" Morpheus explained his point "When you offered your magic to help my cause, you had to let me in. Why are you keeping me out now?"

You sat on your sofa, the warm cover falling to your lap. You tried to ignore the implication of his concerns: it wasn't the fact that a dream or a nightmare could not reach your mind, it was that himself could not cradle it with his own intentions.

"I'm not doing it on porpuse" you defended yourself.

"But that's the only explanation I can offer you" he stood up and got impossibly close to you. You had to tip your head up to look into his eyes that were looking down to yours. You were filled with surprise when you saw a bit of hesitation on his features.

"What are you thinking about?" you whisper softly, worried about him pondering himself into misery.

"You are casting me out"

The accusation almost makes you jump from your seat "I am not" you shake your head side to side.

"You're keeping your mind beyond my reach, you've been doing it this whole time" he interrupted you before you could defend yourself again "On purpose or not and you're doing it because there's something you don't want me to see"

"Why are you taking this so personal?" you insist, a bit desperate.

"Because the alternative is that you're keeping an endless out of your mind— because there's something in there you don't want a cosmic entity to see" his cold tone stole your breath away "Which is the most dangerous and threatening thing you could do against someone of my kinship"

You stay in silence for a few seconds "I'm not keeping anything away from you"

"You're keeping yourself away from me" he whispered, mindlessly and filled with disappointment.

"I'm right here" you whispered, distraught "I don't understand this accusation—"

"What are you dreaming about?" hard. Unbending.

"I—" you felt tears welling up in your eyes "I told you" you croak out, standing up and circling him "I need to see what Matthew's doing"

"I forced Matthew back into the Dreaming— I need to understand what are you doing. We need to discuss this. What are you dreaming about?" he demanded. you gave your back to him.

"I told you about it, Dream" you voice was a plea "It's always something nice, something that makes me feel just right. Tonight it was the ocean. Blue and dark and—"

And you— you thought to yourself. So awfully and beautifully you.

You face him, not finding a safe haven from his questioning.

"I do not understand it" he insists "And I need to understand you, before the alternative becomes unbearable to ignore"

You adverted your eyes from him, looking out your window. A tear rolled down your face and you dry it quickly before he accused you of using them against him.

"You accuse me of casting you out" you tried to hide a sob "You believe in the good in this world, and yet that's not what you think me out to be"

"This is not a matter I'm bringing to you lightly" he insists, stepping closer with urgency.

You cross your arms, just to hold yourself for a moment and then you smile sadly at him.

"I can't believe this morning started feeling like one of my dreams and now it's turning into this nightmare" you tilt your head to the side, a tear rolling straight to your earlobe.

Morpheus stayed in silence, looking intently at you for a few seconds.

Suddenly, realization brightened up his face.

"Why did you feel the need to keep this from me?"

"I didn't even know I was keeping this away from you until Lucienne made me list my dreams to her" you whispered "I suppose some part of me thought that one glance to my dreams and you would understand"

"Show me"

"Dream" you begged "Why do you wish to humiliate me like this?"

"I need to know" he got closer to you in an instant, so suddenly that he took your breath away "Share your mind with me again"

You look up at him, eyes bluer than any sky you could imagine— more inviting than any waters you could dream of.

And if you didn't know any better, you would think that was a plea.

"If I do that, my mind won't be the only thing I would be sharing with you" you breath out, feeling a bit helpless.

"What is the wrong in that"

You looked intently into his eyes.

He looked away from you, turning his face to your window "Admidts of a confession and you're still keeping your love away from me"

"I'm keeping my heart" you almost need to sob "I don't want to expose it just because you need something to be proven"

He turned his face to you again "I believe in you, I don't need anything to be proven to me"

"Then why are you demanding my mind?"

"Because it's the only way I get to protect my heart"

Somehow that took your breath away in an instant.

And without even attempting to, you allow a wave of your ocean crawl onto his shore as you feel his hands cupping your jaw. Eyes closed, breathing jagged and tears feeding his hunger.

Your mind opens up, and your heart bursts into emotion as soon as your feet touch the evergreen grass of the Dreaming— summer breeze caressing your skin and sunshine hitting against your closed eyelids.

As your eyes open, he´s standing tall in front of you still. Dark and glistening, eyes of deep gold and fire burning at the hem of his black tunic.

And just as it began, you force yourself to wake up.

Back home, back in your apartment.

You need to take a step back, but he doesn´t let you get far as he smirks widely at you.

Cheeky little god.

"Cheating darling girl, you barely showed yourself" he cups your jaw securely once again, face contorting around amusement as you let a smile creep in too.

"I've shown enough" you counterpart, a bubble of giddiness about to explode in your inside.

He contemplates you in silence, eyes traveling around your face "I will see all of it—" he warns "—even if I have to take it out of you caress after caress-"

"Dream Lord" you warn, the formality foreign in your tongue.

"Lady enchantress" he warns as well, playful and too close to happiness for you to stand on your offense for long.

You look around his face, shaking your head as your nose bumps against his "I can't dare to dream about you anymore"

Dream stands in silence at that, "In counterpart, you'll find a piece of you all around the fabric of my Dreaming—" he rasps, forehead nudging against yours "Inspiration used to be something I gave away, now I´m tempted to keep it all to myself"

"Mellow and needy" you accuse him.

"All the more reason for you to stop casting my love away" he demands softly, almost as a plead.

"In exchange I would demand far more consideration when giving me dreams" you shift slightly, lips kissing the palm of the creator.

"Demanding and needy" he accuses you now "Always getting your way around me"

And just when you´re about to talk once again, a high pitch croak can be heard "Is rather rude to cast me away when needing alone time, my Lord" Matthew's voice is heard. He's standing on the window frame.

You chuckle.

Morpheus sighs in annoyance, "Tell Lucienne I heard her calling the first time"

Matthew croaks once again, "Boss Lady just wanted to make sure" and then he was off.

You look back at Morpheus, and he´s already looking at you.

"Consideration you will have, dazzling creature" he reassures you softly.

And before he goes, his lips tingle against yours.

[savedenji]

it's been hours since the first six episodes premiered. WHERE ARE THE MORPHEUS FICS? WHERE ARE ALL THE WRITERS? HE'S SO FINE THIS SEASON AND WE GET MORE MOMENTS OF HIM BEING VULNERABLE. 😭😭😭

I mean, it's been like three years since the first season premiered, and after Ng's accusations, I totally understand why almost everyone has decided to leave the show. Also, remember not to support Neil financially, in any way!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🐦‍⬛ Morpheus’ Adventure with Animal Control

Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control: Morpheus get’s picked up animal control and sent to the local animal shelter. Matthew sends you to the rescue.

Warnings: Meowpheus, Language, Nudity.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader.

Word Count: ~4.3k

Morpheus Masterlist

How dare these humans assume that he is just another cat on the streets! Morpheus is fuming, naturally. He’s been wandering the streets of your hometown, tending to the dreams of the cats, when some mortal picks him up and stuffs him in a cage! How dare they think he’s just another stray! But there’s nothing the Endless can do, as he’s currently barred from shifting back to his human form or using his power due to an agreement with his sibling. It’s a temporary agreement, but nonetheless, he’s stuck as a cat and in the hands of mortals!

Sharp blue eyes glare at the metal grates confining him in a box. Morpheus lets out a displeased rumble. The mortal sitting in the driver’s seat glances at the black feline and chuckles.

“I know, buddy, living on the street was probably freeing, but now you can have a home and not worry about where your next meal will come from!” Morpheus’ eye twitches, and he lets out another huff. The mortal thinks she’s doing him a charity! He has no need for such things nor does he need a home. He already has one within the Waking World. Your home.

Grumpily settling in place, Morpheus turns his eyes to the window above his cage and watches as buildings pass. Help will come, much to Morpheus’ distaste. Reduced to a stray feline... The rest of the car ride to the animal shelter, Morpheus is subjected to subpar singing and baby voices from the woman.

When the woman gets out of the car and carries Morpheus towards a building, his claws dig into the plastic beneath him as he’s jostled. He makes more sounds of an unhappy feline but only receives more babyish cooing from the woman. Never again, he promises himself, he will never allow himself to be in such a compromising position. He’s jostled some more as the woman moves from room to room until the Dream Lord finds himself in a large room that smells of chemicals and other felines. The box is placed on a table, and Morpheus eyes the metal grates when more voices join the woman.

“Where did you find this one?”

“Near the park where we found the others last week. This one seems to be well-fed, so I don’t think he was born feral.” Feral? Morpheus bristles at being called feral... but the conversation only grows worse. “I didn’t see anything that signaled he’d been abandoned, so maybe he ran away.”

“We can check for a microchip. You got the scanner?” A device is passed between the mortals just as the metal grate in front of Morpheus opens. A face appears before hands reach into the cage and grab his body. Morpheus is too stunned by the utter audacity of the mortal to do anything other than let them haul his large body from his confines.

He’s a very large cat. Far larger than the mortals expect, and by far the largest they’ve ever seen. And entirely black. Placed on his feet, Morpheus eyes the mortals as something is waved over his neck.

“He’s not microchipped.” A deeper voice says while Morpheus lets out a disgruntled meow and tries to sulk off the cold table. Hands stop him, pulling Morpheus right back to the center of the table.

“Not microchipped. We can put out a notice with his picture, see if someone recognizes him.” A mortal speaks while hands press against his body. Morpheus reluctantly allows the prodding, not wanting to react in any way other than what’s expected of a feline. He’s beginning to get short-tempered with the touches but withholds lashing out with his claws and teeth... that is until the vet tries to take his temperature...

You haven’t seen Morpheus within the Dreaming in several days... he’s also stood you up on your visits to the park. Not the worst thing in the world, but you’re slightly upset because you sort of kind of have a crush on the Endless and him ghosting you hurts. But you’re not dating, and he doesn’t seem to be romantically interested (at least in your mind, he however…). So you’re morosely sipping a hot drink while staring out a window in your flat, trying not to be depressed. That’s when a black blob flies into your window with a loud smack, startling you.

“What the hell?” You gape, setting your drink down and standing up. Had that been a bird? It’s a little big to be one of the crows you occasionally see in your housing area. As you step up to the pane of glass, you catch sight of a very dazed Matthew sprawled out on the ground just outside. “What the hell, Matthew!” You exclaim, running for the back door of your flat. Exiting the building, you scurry up to the downed bird in confusion.

“I think I scrambled my brain,” Matthew groans while you collect his body. “Totally thought that was an open window.”

“Nope, that window doesn’t open,” you tell him as you carry him into your flat. Depositing him onto the table, you check the rattled raven over for injuries and are happy to see that he has none. “So... why’d you try to fly in here in such a rush?”

“Oh yeah!” Matthew exclaims, snapping to and scrambling to his stick-like feet. “WE’VE GOT TROUBLE!” The raven thunders in your face. You’re about to tell Matthew to tone it down, but he isn’t done. “So the boss is kind of stuck as a cat right now and can’t shift back for a little while, and he just got picked up by animal control!”

You blink, your mind trying to process what Matthew has shouted at you with such fervor.

“Sorry, what was that?” You question, your eyebrows scrunching together.

“Morpheus is stuck in his cat form and the animal shelter is going to neuter him!” Matthew screeches in a bluster, not knowing if the shelter would actually neuter the Endless... but at this point? It’s not out of the realm of possibilities. That’s the usual routine at shelters to reduce the feral population. Only Morpheus isn’t feral. Neither is he a cat.

“How the fuck did that happen?” You blurt out. Matthew waves his wings.

“Fuck if I know! You gotta save him before he gets the snip-snip!”

“Right, probably should do that,” you mutter to yourself, frantically looking for your car keys. You’re out of your flat and in your car in under twenty seconds, not giving Matthew a chance to even tell you what Morpheus looks like as a cat. The raven only hopes that you’ll figure out which cat is Morpheus... and that you make it before his boss loses his dignity.

You’re well frazzled by the time you barge into the town’s local animal shelter. They all look at you in surprise before someone approaches and asks if they can help you.

“My cat,” you blurt out loudly. “He’s— I lost my cat... I was told he was taken here, but I—” You don’t know what to say, because you’ve never seen Morpheus in cat form. You don’t know if he looks like a specific breed, what size he is, or if he has any identifying marks. You know nothing. Luckily, the shelter volunteer doesn’t ask you any questions and simply leads you to the holding room full of cats. You’re overwhelmed; the room is a storage area with several cats sulking about. Shit. He could be any one of them.

“I’ll leave you here to be reunited with your kitty,” the worker tells you. “Doc’s calling; I’ll be away for only a bit.” You watch them walk away and whimper, fearing you won’t be able to pick out who Morpheus is because none of the cats have an ‘Endless’ vibe.

Dropping into a lone chair, you slump your head into your hands with a defeated sound as a few of the cats come up to sniff you. You try to find Morpheus among them, you really do, but none of them act like Morpheus or look like him. Would cat Morpheus even act like the normal Morpheus you’re used to? While you’re almost ready to break down into tears at the thought of Morpheus being stuck as a cat and heaven forbid, neutered, the worker returns.

“Did you find— Oh my, no! Bad kitty!” The worker exclaims, much to your confusion. You look at what they’re staring at, only to find an enormous black cat with a cone of shame standing in front of you and staring into your eyes with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. You know that gaze. The cat jumps into your lap and rises on its hind legs to plant its paws on your chest. Relief floods your body because you know this is Morpheus.

Then you notice the bandage wrapped around his hind leg.

“Morpheus, what did you do!?” You sharply exclaim, your hands reaching for the clearly wrapped injury. No wonder he’s wearing the cone of shame! Morpheus begins softly purring to reassure you and assert that he’s fine and there’s no need for you to worry.

“Oh! Is this your cat?” The worker asks as you peer at the feline’s injured leg. It’s tightly wrapped, and most likely the reason for the cone. You look at them and nod.

“Yes, he’s my cat,” you stutter out, your fingers unconsciously running down the feline dream lord’s back. He finds your touch pleasurable and arches his back into your touch. “I... I didn’t realize he’d gotten out.”

I am pleased that you came to rescue me from these deplorable mortals.

“They’re just doing their job,” you automatically chide Morpheus as he lets out a disgruntled meow. “Don’t complain.”

They tried to accost— You cut off Morpheus’ accusing words.

“Not right now,” you tell him before your cheeks grow hot. The worker probably can’t hear Morpheus speaking to you, so it would be odd for you to argue with him while he’s in cat form. What kind of nutty human talks to their cat like this? You clear your throat. “I’m so sorry if he caused you trouble. May I ask what happened? He wasn’t like this last I knew...” The worker waves you off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. He seems quite attached to you, and some cats just don’t like people other than their owners.” Your hand, which rests on Morpheus’ back, presses down to stop him from going off on a tangent about him being an Endless and no Endless have owners. He doesn’t speak but certainly lets out a rumbling growl to air his displeasure. “When we were giving him a check-up, he didn’t like having his temperature checked. He hurt himself trying to escape the exam room, so cone of shame for him.”

You eye Morpheus with a raised eyebrow, and he just huffs and presses himself further against your chest, practically laying on you. You pat the space between his ears to calm him down as he eyes the worker with a clear warning.

“He’s not usually so mean,” you nervously say, running your fingers down Morpheus’ long back. His fur feels so soft and silky, but you honestly wonder why he’s so big.

I am not mean... and remove this deplorable mortal contraption from my neck! Morpheus demands, his eyes staring into yours like pools of cerulean water.

You ignore the grumbling Endless and wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your chest while you stand up. He’s heavy, as expected given his large size... but the Endless decides to help you out by wiggling upwards and placing his paws on your shoulder, holding himself up as best he can with the monstrosity around his neck. He’s graced with a very nice view of your ass and takes that as part of his consolation prize.

“Is there any paperwork I need to do before I take him home?” you ask, wanting to get the grumpy and injured Dream Lord back to your flat before he causes any more chaos or mayhem.

“Just some sign-out paperwork,” the worker cheerfully replies before guiding you to the front desk. While you’re filling out the paperwork, Morpheus reluctantly has to be placed in an animal carrier to be transported back to your flat. You try to ignore his angry yowls and hisses and certainly the threats and exclamations that float into your mind. There are many threats of ‘you dare...’ and ‘I will darken your dreams with nightmares...’

When you get back to your flat and figure out what the hell is going on, you know Morpheus is going to be in one of his moods. It wouldn’t surprise you if you had nightmares tonight. Sighing, you finish the paperwork and return the pen before looking at Morpheus, who has his razor-sharp claws digging into the soft cardboard of the disposable cat carrier that only just fits his size.

“Morpheus!” you exclaim in exasperation. The yowling cat freezes at your call and looks at you, as do the workers trying to get him into the carrier. “Just let them put you in, the sooner you do that, the sooner you can go home.”

I will not—

You point at the carrier more firmly, and Morpheus ceases his grumbles and struggles almost instantly. He doesn’t wish to argue with you or make trouble, so he goes limp and lets the mortals stuff him into the box and close it. They’re shocked by his sudden compliance.

“Wow, he sure listens to you,” the receptionist says as you hold your tongue and dread the retaliation you’ll get for yelling at an Endless. “What kind of breed is he? He’s so big! I’ve never seen a cat with such pretty eyes. He’s a handsome boy.”

“I think he’s got some Maine Coon in him,” you vaguely mutter, taking the offered carrier and glowering cat from a worker. You can hear Morpheus’ soft grumbled hisses about the babying he’s being subjected to. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him. He’s not usually so grumpy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s just stressed out and wants to go home.” You give the workers a thankful smile before lugging Morpheus back to your car and quickly putting him in the passenger seat.

“Let’s agree to never do that again,” you speak, pulling out of the shelter’s parking lot.

Release me.

“Not now.”

Y/N, you will release me from my confines.

“Not while I’m driving!” Morpheus huffs and tries to get comfortable within his small confines. He’ll be free soon enough. So he stares at you through the little holes in the cardboard box, watching your face scrunch up in concentration. It’s only a short drive to your flat, but by the time you park in your driveway and are lugging Morpheus into your house, the sky has opened up and it’s pouring rain.

Stumbling into your flat, you set Morpheus down and let out a deep breath. You’re soaked. Morpheus is apparently stuck as a cat. This is above your pay grade and you’re not even paid! First things first, get Morpheus out and rid him of that cone before he rages at you. Crouching down, you push your dripping hair over your shoulder and undo the little tabs to open the cardboard box. The moment you do, Morpheus awkwardly shoves his coned head up at you with insistence.

“The receptionist was right,” you murmur to yourself. “You are a very handsome cat.”

While I appreciate your sentiments, this is but a temporary form.

You blink and feel your cheeks grow hot. Right. Morpheus can still hear you perfectly well and communicate just the same.

“Speaking of which, how long are you stuck like this?” you ask, your fingers working to undo the collar. When you have it off, Morpheus jumps out of the box and shakes out his body.

The deal shall wear off in hours, or perhaps a day or two. I know not the exact time, but it is soon. Morpheus explains to you, turning in a circle and shaking the leg with the bandage around it. It itches and he finds the cloth irritating.

“Don’t do that,” you scold him, reaching back to stop him from shaking off the bandage.

It is but a mere scratch that will heal once I return to my mortal form. The Endless promises you, sitting down and staring into your worried eyes. You sigh and raise an eyebrow at the Dream Lord. I would not lie to you.

“Okay, just—keep it on for my sake, please?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing once more. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” As you speak, you reach out and brush your fingertips between Morpheus’ ears. The Endless purrs and bumps your fingers, pleased that you’re not terribly upset. He would be despondent should you be upset over such a thing.

Looking down at your soaked attire, you pull your wet shirt away from your skin and grimace.

“Well, now that that has been sorted, I am going to take a shower and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.” You rise to your feet and begin peeling your clothes off, not really thinking about the fact that Morpheus is in your flat and will definitely be getting a view. The Endless himself is rather in awe of what he sees as you dump your wet clothing in a hamper, now only wearing undergarments. You are an incredibly beautiful human, and oh how he wishes he had the pleasure of acquainting himself with it.

He plans on it. He’s been slowly wooing you over the last few weeks. You both regularly meet at a park, which he consequently missed because of his current condition, and the Endless is now itching to simply declare his intentions with you before someone else comes along and snatches you up. So he follows the route you walked through your flat and then slips through the cracked door into the steamy bathroom.

The shower is on, and you’re humming under your breath as you bathe. Morpheus likes the sound of your voice, your hums even more. He jumps up onto the bathroom counter and sits on the edge, happily listening to you. Waiting. You don’t take long in your shower. You just want to warm up and give your hair a quick wash, nothing too extravagant. When you turn the shower off and draw back the curtains while reaching for your bath towel, you are not expecting to see Morpheus the cat calmly sitting on your bathroom counter, staring at you. With a loud yelp, you quickly cover your naked body with the towel.

“Morpheus!” you hiss at him, mortification now singeing your cheeks. His dark head cocks to the side unperturbed.

We need to speak. You stare at him, wondering if he really just barged into your bathroom and waited for you to get out of the shower. Apparently, he had.

“Do we?” you repeat, craftily maneuvering the towel around your body to better cover yourself. “I’m tired and almost brain-dead. Your little stint at the animal shelter drained me, and I’m still wrapping my head around you being a cat.”

I have many forms... but if you wish to hold off the conversation until the morrow, I will humor you.

“How magnanimous of you,” you dryly reply, walking past him to your bedroom. You make a point to shut the door in his face before he can sneak in so you can change without him peeking at you. This displeases the Endless, and he scratches the door with a paw to make it known. Very known. “I’m changing!” you call back to him, rolling your eyes. He really is acting like a cat.

And I fail to see why you must do so behind a closed door.

“Because I’m naked! That’s why!” Again, he doesn’t understand why you’re being so modest about your body.

You have one of the most beautiful bodies in all of creation, Y/N. Again, may I reiterate my failure to understand why you must have this barrier between us? Morpheus really doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your complete and utter beauty. If you would just allow him the chance to explain how in love he is with you, then none of this would be necessary! He scratches at the door again, this time with both front paws. Scratch, scratch, scratch. You open the door, dressed in a shirt and underwear, and stare down at the Endless feline in exasperation.

“We are not in a romantic relationship, Morpheus,” you tell him with cheeks aflame. “And I am plain in comparison to those you’ve come across in your life. Let’s not pretend that you’re interested in a mortal, okay?”

I do not appreciate your words of self-demean, Y/N. You have no idea what has gotten his tail in a twist, and you’re not interested in having your heart ripped to shreds by an Endless, so you roll your eyes and go back to drying your hair. Once your hair is moderately dried and ready for bed, you climb into bed and turn out the light with a sigh. Tomorrow, you’re sure that things will return to normal and your odd relationship with Dream of the Endless will go back to the way it was. Just... acquaintances... maybe even friends.

Padding over to the side of your bed, Morpheus jumps up onto the soft surface and walks his way over to your face. You blink at him in confusion.

“You don’t need to stay here while I sleep, you know. I’m sure there are other places you’d rather be.”

I am exactly where I wish to be. Morpheus tells you, rubbing his face against your shoulder to mark you. Then he turns in a circle before settling down next to your chest. You will talk in the morning, and you will finally understand why the Endless spends so much time with you.

“You better inform Matthew that you’re alright,” you murmur, your eyes closing. Your fingers reach out to gently stroke Morpheus’ soft body, and he begins purring. “He was really worried about you.”

Sleep. Such a bossy feline.

You always wake up hot without fail, smothered by blankets and uncomfortable. So when you yawn and snuggle back into your cool mattress, you’re almost keyed into the fact that something is off. But you’re so comfortable and drowsy that you pass off that confusion in exchange for more snuggles with your bed. Then you realize that you’re not exactly sprawled on your mattress, and the coolness you’re feeling is coming from someone else. Dragging your eyes open, you stare at the wall opposite your bed for a few moments in confusion. Then it hits you that you’re half on top of someone, clinging to them with your arm.

“Do you feel rested?” Morpheus’ voice is like a battering ram in your ear, jump-starting your heart and making you physically jerk in place and scramble around so you’re on your hands and knees staring at him. Oh. My. God. He blinks at you expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer. He’s been up since returning to mortal form and has been waiting for you.

“You’re back to normal,” you comment weakly.

“Indeed,” the Endless agrees, tilting his head to the side. “I returned to this form some hours ago.”

“You’re still here,” you dumbly point out. His eyebrow goes up.

“I wish to speak with you regarding a sensitive topic. You asked to wait until the next day to do so, so I have waited.”

“You are naked!” you whisper-shout, trying not to combust or turn into a tomato. God, your body feels so hot at the moment! “And I just slept on you, and you let me!”

“You were deep within your dreams, blissfully resting. I did not wish to tear you from such peace,” Morpheus points out before raising a hand and gently stroking your chin. “Now, before you come up with some other excuse to avoid speaking with me, I shall simply inform you of what has been plaguing my mind these last few weeks.”

You tremble in place, hypnotized by his starry blue gaze that you are more than grateful keeps you from openly gawking at Morpheus’ naked god-like body.

“Okay?” you ask hesitantly, slumping onto your shins.

“I feel for you most ardently, Y/N, and wish to ask permission to court you should you be so willing.” Your brain short-circuits for a few moments as you comprehend what Morpheus has just said. Heart pounding in your chest, you force yourself to remain calm.

“And... you felt the need to tell me this when you are naked?” Morpheus’ lips quirk to the side.

“I believe we have skirted around this topic long enough and the opportunity presented itself.”

“You could have gone back to the Dreaming and gotten changed, or just magicked yourself an outfit,” you point out, your fingers twitching against your bedsheets. It’s getting harder not to look.

“Perhaps, but you were most comfortable and I dared not disturb you.” In essence, he’d returned to human form and let you sleep on his naked body for a good chunk of time. How embarrassing. Clearly, he likes seeing you squirm.

“I should have left you at the shelter,” you gripe at him for teasing you. You receive another smirk as Morpheus teasingly brushes his thumb across your lower lip.

“A lie, surely.”

“Next time you get stuck in cat form? You’re on your own.” You’re all bluster, he knows it. You know it. The entire Dreaming knows it.

Date Published: 12/7/23

Last Edit: 03/7/25

Morpheus Masterlist

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 (𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨) + 𝙘𝙖𝙩

note ✥ dipping my toe in the sandman fandom hello :3 i'd like to write longer fic ngl. hopefully i could do it and post it in my writing blog. alas, this is a practice on morpheus' character tbh

content ✥ slight dark!dream of the endless, he's a cat and a certified stalker c'mon now, a little possessive thoughts, gn!reader

Morpheus thinks it is a little ridiculous to approach you like this. 

For eons, he is never afraid to come up to mortals who have caught his eyes, offering them his hand to guide them back to The Dreaming, to indulge in his love. But he could not say the same, in this case. 

He did try. He knows how The Waking and humans work. He has approached you in a manner that people say is normal, but perhaps his stoic voice and straight stance spook you so badly that you retreat the sun on your lips, hiding away from one such as him. 

He first called you by your full name. 

First mistake.

You had never seen him around and yet he already knows full name. Next, he told you his name—“You may call me Morpheus.” He said and he could only watch in confusion as you stuttered and grabbed the cat you were feeding before jogging away from him in haste. 

Is the name Morpheus too unusual for you? Too ancient? Shall he pick another modern alias that could help him blend in among the humans? Well, his real name does hold a sense of modernity in it—Yes, he will introduce himself to you with it the next day. 

And he waited. Only for you to not appear. 

Perhaps it was just a coincidence. But that is impossible. He has watched you for so long, he knows your routine by heart. He decides to stay back in The Dreaming and orders Matthew to fly his way to The Waking. And there you were, in the same place where he waited for you to appear. 

You were feeding the same stray cat. 

At that moment, Morpheus realized, you have a liking towards cats. You are fond of them. He continues to watch you through the eyes of his raven, seeing how you greet every cat you pass by with a “Hi, meow!” 

Your cute voice does bring a shadow of his rare smile. 

But his goal right now is to pursue you. 

He might have lost his mind in an attempt to pursue love, for he has shifted his physique into a black cat, roaming The Waking, searching for his mortal who has tickled his heart unknowingly. 

There you are—he arrives at the usual spot you would stop by to feed a stray cat. He meows and you immediately squeal in happiness at the sight of a new cat in town. 

“Hey, baby!” You chime as you wiggle your fingers, motioning him to come. Of course he would. He walks up to you, ignoring the glare from the stray cat beside your feet. The stray cat hisses at him once before it continues to eat the food you prepared for it. 

Morpheus looks up at you, meowing once to get your attention. You chuckle, petting his head and giving nice scratches on his chin. Oh, how he wishes you would do this when he is in his truest form, in all its glory. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t have food for you left…” You coo sadly. Morpheus does not care about that either. He continues to circle you, rubbing himself against your legs. Yes, he is marking you—he has long decided that you are his anyway. 

“I’ll get you some food. Can you wait here? Yeah, meow?” You talk to him before standing. You are stepping away and he already follows you, catching up fast. It surprises you a bit that he follows you so eagerly. You sigh with a smile. “Alright, you hungry boy. Come on.” You pick him up, cradling him in your arms as you walk through the busy streets. 

Morpheus snuggles against your body, purring. Ah, how wonderful would it be if he had the chance to be himself and actually buries his face into your chest, like this. 

“You don't look like you're from here, Murphy. Maybe you’re lost…” You say to him and he looks up at you with his adorable eyes. You grin. “Murphy sounds cool to you, yeah? You’re completely black like that one weird guy who approached me. He called himself ‘Morpheus’. You kinda look like him… in a sense.” You giggle before you lift your arms a bit, pressing a hard kiss on Morpheus’ head.

“But you are much cuter, Murphy.” You say with a hardened tone. Cuteness aggression is certainly flooding your mind as you press more kisses on his head. “You’re my good luck charm, okay? When you're near, that weird man is not gonna appear to me.”

“He’s a little scary. He knows my full name, can you believe it, Murphy?” You continue to ramble as your feet keep walking and you seem to have a destination in mind. “I’m afraid I have a stalker… I have to report him to the police but I don't really know who he is.”

Any human agency is no match for me, dear love—Morpheus thinks. 

Listening to your rambles, he only stays quiet, relaxing himself in your embrace—something he wishes you to do to him when the two of you are officially together. You keep telling him stories until you arrive at your apartment. 

“I just got an idea, Murphy. I’ll keep you around for tonight and tomorrow we’re gonna find your owners, yeah?” You give him another kiss and bring him into your humble apartment. You put him on the floor and he starts to explore your place by himself. It is not like he has never been here before. When you are asleep, he comes here through your dream, checking this little life of yours. 

You provide him with simple cat food on a paper plate, along with a bowl of water. Then, you leave him in the living room, going to your bathroom to take a shower. He does not even touch the food—he just patiently waits for you in front of the door, sometimes his paw digs the wooden door. 

He has all the power to get inside, but it is better to not rouse suspicion. He learned that he does need to be patient—which is not that pleasing, but he has all the time in the universe to tickle your heart. 

You sure take a while washing yourself. He gives up staring at the door and starts to pace around your house—beginning from the hallway, to the kitchen, to the living room and finally, he gets into your bedroom by sneaking in through the gap between the door. 

He jumps onto your bed, making himself comfortable and cuddles in your blanket. Soon after, you finally enter your room, only in a towel wrapped around your body. 

“Oh, hey, Murphy. You sure are a smart cat.” You give him some more pets before you go to your wardrobe, dressing yourself in a comfy shirt and a pair of shorts. 

Morpheus watches. Of course he will. He never plans to look away. 

You hop into the bed afterwards, making yourself comfortable. Ah, nap time. Morpheus almost forgets this time you choose out of the hours you have in a day. He moves a bit, giving you the room to lie comfortably. You stroke his fur again as you take your phone, scrolling through your social media. 

He just stays there and moves an inch closer when he senses that your sleep is also coming near. Yawning for the tenth time, you finally put away your phone, adjusting your head on the pillow. “Wanna sleep with me, Murphy? Come, come, kitty, kitty.” 

He meows. He gets closer, curling right beside you as he watches you slowly drifting away. Your soul taps into The Dreaming—he can feel it. He waits until the dream in your mind is forming clearer—until your brain cannot tell what is reality and unreality. 

His black fur dissipates into sand—and the sand multiplies, growing larger and larger in size until it forms a tall figure in a black cloak looming over your vulnerable body.

Morpheus’ bony fingers reach out to you as his void of eyes stare deeply into your dream. His finger slowly touches your head, sliding down your face, caressing your skin ever so slightly. He bends down to bring his face close to you. 

His pale lips touch your skin. And your body tenses, as if there is a change in your slumbering mind. 

Dream a little dream of me, dearest.

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