#the very old man with enormous wings

[lemonlinelights]

^Rappaccini's Daughter about 100 pages

^a very old man with enormous wings five pages

Rime of the ancient mariner ^ it's a very long poem BUT

Here's Gandalf reading it^

^Fucked up poem I like called "Out,out" it's less than a page long

^the yellow wallpaper ten pages

The lottery ^ seven pages

No Exit^ a play about people being each others hell

[pennamesmith]

I made a YouTube channel! I’ll be reading various short stories as little audiobooks. That’s it! I’ve always wanted to do something like this and I’m having loads of fun trying it out. 😊 Give it a listen if you want!

[farlee-wander]

I made a YouTube channel! I’ll be reading various short stories as little audiobooks. That’s it! I’ve always wanted to do something like this and I’m having loads of fun trying it out. 😊 Give it a listen if you want!

[mourningmaybells]

[chrismas95]

Sparknotes for the short story "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings"

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

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

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

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

As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

[targaryen-dynasty]

REWRITE THE STARS.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader

Aemond arrives at your betrothed‘s funeral. And after being denied your hand in marriage once, he does not come to leave without you.

WARNINGS: angst? mentions of death, mentions of war, hinting at murder, kinda dark Aemond, female reader of House Baratheon (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: Wow, feels weird posting something without smut lmfao. But… 👀 It‘s not mentioned, but someone particular and very jealous might have killed Lord Rosby, seeing that his House had deflected to the Greens at the very beginning of the war.

The body of your betrothed had not even been lowered into the ground by the time the enormous wings of Vhagar casted a dark shadow over the castle of Rosby. 

He had been drowning in his own blood after being struck in his throat by a crossbow from one of the so-called Black’s, or so you have been told, and while the image of it had been quite unsettling, the funeral itself was not too bad. 

Lord Rosby was many years older than you, and you had been betrothed not long before the war started. The Lord himself had asked for your hand in marriage, and with your father still having four more daughters to spare for any kind of political alliance, he had all too eagerly agreed. 

Much to the disliking of the prince, who dismounted his large beast at this very moment. 

He had convinced your father to support Aegon in the war of succession by promising to marry one of his daughters. You had been standing next to your father while your sisters stood lined up for Aemond to choose, and even after stating more than once that you hadn’t been free to marry anymore, the besotted prince had just reluctantly agreed to take the hand of your older sister Floris in marriage. 

Marrying a young prince of a House as noble as House Targaryen seemed far more appealing than marrying an old lord of House Rosby, and for the short time Aemond had stayed in the Round Hall of Storm’s End, it seemed you two had shared the same resentment towards the man sitting on the throne right next to you.

The envy you felt towards your sister had been eating you alive, so much that you had requested for your belongings to be moved to the castle of Rosby just so you didn’t have to endure seeing her face any longer. That your betrothed was not even there at that time just made it better.  

Now your father – and possibly you as well – had to experience the consequences of his pride and stubbornness first hand, it seemed. 

Upon spotting the large dragon in the far distance, a few members of House Rosby had taken their leave to go into hiding, but you and your father stood strong, despite the risk of being bathed in Vhagar’s flames sooner than later. 

For your father, it might have been the belief in his allegiance to the King, but for you, it was your House’s words, ours is the fury – and your fury was solely aimed at the man responsible for your misery. 

The rustling and shuffling behind you indicated that the few people, that had remained at the funeral side, bowed to the approaching prince, their mumbled courtesies not prompting you to turn around. 

“Lord Borros,” his voice was cold and calculated, dragging a shiver down your spine. “I assume you know what I came here for.”

Your father sighed, barely audible to anyone other than you, but even then you refused to acknowledge what was happening behind your back. It was not your place to speak, as you knew you had little say in the matter. 

The steps of Aemond coming closer could be heard, his presence suffocating. "‘Tis clear that she is not to wed Lord Rosby anymore. He was slain in battle, and his death has rendered the marriage pact void,” he stated the obvious, not mincing any words. “I desire to take her hand in marriage now.”

“Lord Rosby is but a day cold in the ground. It is hardly fitting of us to discuss marriage before he is even laid to rest,” your father scoffed, the sharp edge to his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. “Besides, I have already given you the hand of one of my other daughters, Prince Aemond. Your House might do as it sees fit, but mine will not, and one wife is more than enough.”

At his bold statement, your body went rigid, more so as you merely heard Aemond humming in return. 

After that, a short silence descended upon the courtyard.

“Do not allow your foolish pride to cloud your judgment, Lord Borros.” You raised a brow at that, curious to find out what direction this encounter was meant to take. “You will not gain anything by denying it.”

Not watching the moment the knights lowered your betrothed’s body into his final resting place, you turned around. Your eyes drifted from the ground up to the prince standing not too far away, his lips curled, and a steely stare solely focused on your father. 

“Your other daughter is of no interest to me.” His face was unmoving, and his voice as sharp as a steel dagger. “I have made clear what I wanted when I first set foot in your halls, and now, I have come to take it.”

When Aemond turned his focus on you, you could feel his penetrating gaze weight over you, the intensity of his good eye being enough to make you shiver. Yet, there was something about him that lured you in, a pull that was impossible to resist. With the way his lips pulled into a smug smirk, you knew he had noticed the turmoil raging within you.

Aemond jutted his chin forward, addressing your father while looking at you. “I will take her with me with or without your blessing.” The cold determination with which he spoke had your blood running cold. “You may not have the power to deny me the chance to wed her, Lord Borros, but ‘tis your choice whether you allow it to happen in your halls.”

Gathering your thoughts, you raised a hand to stop your father from speaking even before he had opened his mouth, yet you averted your gaze down to the ground, not able to meet either of their gazes. “The war has already been harsh for the Stormlands and the entire Realm, father. I have seen men return, bearing corpses of husbands and sons,” you said, keeping your focus on the ground beneath your feet with your voice unusually stern. “If this is the only way to bring peace to our people, then so be it.” 

You glanced at your father, and the scowl on his face was almost enough to make you retreat. 

Ours is the fury, you remembered. 

“The Lord Paramour of the Stormlands does not bend to the whims of some Targaryen–” 

“Enough, father,” you interrupted him, your voice stern once more. “The Stormlands have been bleed dry, peace is what matters. If my hand is what Prince Aemond desires, he shall have it.”

Your father grunted in disbelief, not expecting you to speak against him and surrender so easily. 

Aemond’s eye drank you in once more, and the smug smirk his lips had held before had returned, adorning his chiseled features. “Very well,” the Prince Regent declared, moving toward you with a hand outstretched. He intended for you to place yours in it, which you did after a second of hesitating. 

Before he led you towards the beast waiting outside the castle’s walls, Aemond turned to look at your father one last time, the smugness fully taking over his stance and demeanor. “I suggest you start preparing for the wedding, my lord, that is, if you wish to retain the title you currently hold.”

The threat hung in the air, gagging you and making it impossible for you to breathe. You did not meet your father‘s eyes, for you were certain the disappointment flashing in them would burden you even more. 

Silence surrounded you two on the walk towards his dragon, safe for the ‘you chose wisely,’ he had mumbled as you passed through the castle’s gates. These three words had your eyes widening, regarding the prince carefully. 

There was a strange lightness in your stomach as you approached the looming presence of the prince‘s beast, happy and afraid for what was to come at the same time. Were you meant to follow the same tragic path other women that had married a Targaryen prince had taken? Or would your future look different? 

An unfamiliar heat emanated from the dragon the closer you got, pulling you out of your thoughts. There was little time for you to adjust to its presence before your now betrothed urged you to climb the ropes leading towards the saddle on its back. 

“I will be right behind you,“ he said, a poor attempt to calm your fluttering nerves. 

With a bow of your head, you hesitantly reached for the thick ropes and started climbing the beast, the act itself proving to be a great challenge.

Aemond strapped you to the saddle, sitting behind you to keep you steady and supported while the dragon moved to ascend into the sky for your flight to King's Landing.

And with one look over your shoulder, you saw the castle of Rosby and its village disappear in the far distance. 

You had yet to find out if you had made the right decision or not. 

[thepunkmuppet]

costumes / looks I desperately need gerard way to wear on stage (add your own in reblogs!!)

greek statue, he’s fully painted white including his hair with a white toga with a golden wreath thing on his head. I just think that would look sick

police uniform covered in blood

straight up zombie with full on green decaying gory make up

one of the heathers from heathers

either the blue cheerleader outfit from the i’m not okay mv or the iconic red ones from teenagers. then we’d have a little trio!

ghostface. possibly cunty ghostface as a treat

vanya from umbrella academy - young version with the school girl fit and black mask OR the all white comic version of course

also number five from umbrella academy (classic school boy fit)

this sounds weird but I think this would be really cool and meta for wwwy - a stereotypical mcr fan / emo. as in with that one black parade t shirt, heavy eyeliner, black nails, side swept emo fringe, studded bracelets and belts, skinny black jeans, vans or converse. again a very meta concept, after their old person looks in 2022 I can really see them doing this as a whole band this year and I would loooove to finally see gerard in the fashion style that’s so associated with him and his music

howl from howl’s moving castle

possibly also sophie from howl’s moving castle

slenderman

literally just satan. like the most stereotypical devil, give them fully painted red skin, horns, fangs, yellow or black eyes, maybe even goat legs. probably with a majestic black suit or something, or for a succubus vibe a black flowy dress with a slit down the leg. now that I think about it, this would be a SICK wwwy look to shock us all, esp if ray mikey and frank all dressed as other demons or the souls of the damned or some shit.

peni parker - he made her!!

question mark jumper from doctor who

also missy from doctor who omg

jane doe from ride the cyclone, possibly with added marionette or cracked porcelain makeup like in some renditions

classic majestic white-robed angel, with enormous fake wings and maybe even sparkly gold makeup and a big gold halo. also would be cool in all black, or all white but covered in blood (red, gold, or black, all would look cool)

buffy summers in prophecy girl, except he also has blood all over his neck from where the master bit her. I hope he’s watched btvs I think he would very much enjoy it this look would fit with their vampire vibe sooooo well

classic frankenstein’s monster

mothman. not only is he a heartthrob but he’s also a hunched goblin cryptid to me. the duality of man (he/theys)

jane prentiss from the magnus archives. if you don’t know she is a living flesh hive of sentient worms, she’s decaying and full of holes. again with all the nasty decaying rotting prosthetic makeup plus THE RED DRESS!!!

mr darcy vibes, sopping wet regency man with a big puffy white t shirt

opposite side of that, fuck it give him a full on ballroom gown

henry creel from stranger things (pre-vecna, nurse outfit)

any disney princess

crowley from good omens. my man looks GOOD in those anthony janthony aah sunglasses he has

cute flowy summer dress with like a flowery pattern. either go cottagecore with it and have flowers in his hair, or go full white soccer mum and put him in huge cunty sunglasses a massive straw sun hat with a ribbon on it

all-black cowboy!!!! the fact I’ve never seen him in a cowboy hat is actual sacrilege. also would very much appreciate an all-pink sequin studded cowboy

any alice in wonderland character, especially alice herself, the classic disney movie look with the blue dress and the bow in the hair. he would also do a great chesire cat (spooky big grin makeup paired with his weird ass dramatic facial expressions?? inspired) or a super extravagant queen / king / knave of hearts. also 100000% the mad hatter omfg, he was BORN to do a jefferson from once upon a time look!!

[dostoyevsky-official]

Please, give me a book recommendation. I am starving for good literature.

canonical: notes from the underground; northanger abbey more contemporary: catch 22; short stories of gabriel garcia marquez, including leaf storm, no one writes to the colonel, and a very old man with enormous wings non-fiction: zubok, collapse; anne lamot, bird by bird, or traveling mercies poetry: collected works of cavafy; collected works of edna st vincent millay

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Broken Piano In 1975 by Marti Leimbach

My favourite piece of music is Keith Jarrett’s Köln Concert, an hour-long piece improvised, as all of Jarrett’s concerts are, on a solo piano in front of a live audience. You know the story, right?

For the concert, he’d requested a particular piano, a Bösendorfer. The Bösendorfer originated in Vienna early in the nineteenth century. It is said to be the first concert piano able to stand up to the playing technique of the young virtuoso, Franz Liszt, whose tough, unforgiving treatment of the pianos he played destroyed them in short order. Perhaps the Bösendorfer’s durability was the reason Jarrett requested one for the concert. The 29-year old jazz musician was known for his eccentric stagecraft, his improvisations played with enormous athleticism and physicality. It’s fair to say he is tough on an instrument, that he plays unconventionally, even wildly, racing over the keys, standing up, sitting, leaning, panting, moaning. His performances move him—and anyone listening—through the disorder and miracle of creative endeavour.

Watching him is watching genius itself, that raw work that is cleaned up only by its imitators.

In short, he needs a good piano.

January 24, 1975. Jarrett arrives to the venue the afternoon of the concert, He is presented with his Bösendorfer. He stands with Manfred Eicher, the man who will one day found ECM Records and who arranged Jarrett’s sell-out concert tour. The piano he has been given for the concert is a Bösendorfer, all right, but it is puny, ancient, totally unsuitable.

Jarrett taps a few keys and finds it is not only the wrong size, incapable of producing enough volume for a concert performance, but also completely out of tune. The black keys don’t all work. The high notes are tinny; the bass notes barely sound and the pedals stick.

Eicher tells the organizer, a teenaged girl named Vera Brandes, that the piano is unsuitable. Either they get a new piano for Jarrett, or there will be no concert.

In a panic, the girl does everything she can to get another piano, but she can’t find one in time. She manages to convince a local piano tuner to attend to the Bösendorfer, but there isn’t much they can do about the overall condition of the instrument.

In the end, Jarrett agrees to play. Not because the piano was fixed up to the extent that he felt comfortable performing, but because he took pity on poor, young Vera Brandes, just seventeen years old and not able to shoulder so great a failure as losing the only performer on a sold-out night.

So he performs on the dreadful instrument. He does what he has to do, not because he thinks it will be good, but because he feels he has no choice.

Tim Harford [described it best], “The substandard instrument forced Jarrett away from the tinny high notes and into the middle register. His left hand produced rumbling, repetitive bass riffs as a way of conveying up the piano’s lack of resonance. Both of these elements gave the performance an almost trance-like quality.”

Jarrett overcame the lack of volume by standing up and playing the piano very hard. He stood, sat, moaned, writhed, and pounded the piano keys. You can hear him on the recording, the agony of the music, his effort at creating any sound at all. He sweated out what must have been an excruciating hour, and he triumphed. The Köln Concert has sold 3.5 million copies and is perhaps the most beautiful, transformative piece of music I’ve ever heard. It makes me cry to hear it, especially if I recall the courage it took for him to perform in front of a live audience on an unplayable piano with that desperate girl in the wings, wringing her hands, hoping beyond hope that he didn’t rise from the stool and walk out.

Hoping nobody noticed her great failure to produce the right piano for this most important occasion. [...]

Keith Jarett later said, "What happened with this piano was that I was forced to play in what was — at the time — a new way. Somehow I felt I had to bring out whatever qualities this instrument had. And that was it. My sense was, ‘I have to do this. I’m doing it. I don’t care what the piano sounds like. I’m doing it.’ And I did.”

[sauntervaguelydown]

Script-Doctoring Sakura

Before we start, you have to understand, I think Sakura as she's introduced is a fucking excellent character. I am a fan. Her bones are GOOD, we can tear the roof off and improve this house.

Okay so one of my biggest, hardest critiques of Naruto Shippuden is how it fumbles Sakura. This isn't anything new, but it's on my mind, so I wanna talk about it.

First thing. She has enormous physical strength, which we get to see utilized in her re-introduction spar, and a bit in her team-up fight against Sasori. Her portion of the fight with Sasori focuses more on her medical abilities, however. And medical abilities... well, they don't play to a shonen audience in the same way that flashy gimmicks and jutsus do.

So one of the first small tweaks I would make is that when she gets poisoned and stabbed by Sasori, and she's fighting through it, the amount of pain she is in should come to the foreground. It should be weighted, it should be dramatic--in anime terms, express it with noises of agony, gestures of trembling, close-ups, sweat, tense music as she struggles to rise and fight on. When she heals herself while running with a gash in her side, I want to feel like she's hauling her body forward, I want to know exactly how each step is tearing her wounds open. I want to see consequences. I want to know what this costs her. This gives the medical techniques dramatic weight, instead of just being a narrative blip in an ongoing fight.

Alright. Moving forward.

Maybe I'm in the minority, I truly don't know, but I liked her false love confession to Naruto. Giving him what she thinks he wants, trying to convince him (and maybe herself as well) that she has given up on Sasuke? It shakes everything up.

She says that she loves Naruto now, because he's 1. a hero who proved himself, and 2. reliable, approachable, and within her ability to touch. How could she love a criminal, when a hero is available to her? This is interesting, sad, and uncomfortable. I love that Naruto immediately disbelieves all this, distrusts it, and is angry about it.

Item 1, Naruto "proving himself" and earning her love, is an uncomfortable concept, and I'm glad that he rejects it. I'm glad he has a chance to reject it. It will dovetail in with his discomfort in the next arc, as he tried to untangle the resentment he still feels despite being openly accepted in his hometown now.

So what doesn't work? Well. To be honest. I'm not sure that Kishimono understands why Sakura loved/loves Sasuke. He's got a strong understanding of the psychological impact Sasuke had on Naruto (Sai spells it out for us, we know exactly why Naruto imprinted so hard). But what's the deal with Sakura? Why does she love Sasuke? I'm not gonna lie to you, in the OG couple of arcs, it's very obviously related to Sasuke being Hot. He is a 12-year-old with a cut jawline, badass powers, and a too-cool attitude. He's catnip for pre-teen girls, okay. I understand.

"Liking Sasuke" is a big part of Sakura's self-identity too. It was the first major choice she made after gaining her confidence under Ino's wing as a child. It was the wedge she drove between herself and Ino. Liking Sasuke and Being Ino's Rival are inextricably intertwined. But does she love him? Well. She certainly says she does. When he leaves the village, she says that she loves him so much it hurts her. We have to accept this is true. But he's given her nothing for the whole year they've been comrades. The closest to affection he ever shows her to her face is when he pops up crazy manic on evil curse juju and asks her which of these mooks injured her while he was asleep, so he can rip their arms off. And, to be fair, she DOES try a Hulk Cooldown Hug immediately after this, and it works.

The real question Sakura should be asking, during her false confession, is "How could I love someone who treated me like trash, abandoned me, and broke my heart?" Not "how could I love a criminal? A wanted man? A traitor?". It's not good as a rhetorical question. Many girls love criminals; Bundy got love letters in prison.

Now, in a narrative that was tuned into her needs better, this could still work. Maybe she's framing it in this unconvincing way because she still can't bear to admit that Sasuke treated her like trash. Okay. I'll buy that.

So here's what happens next. She tries to kill Sasuke herself.

This is amazing. This would be an incredible climax to her personal arc. A physical fight which revolves around emotional confrontation is the Naruto brand. And we've never gotten to see a Sakura 1-on-1 fight before. Sasuke is obviously way out of her league at this point, after absorbing all his brother's techniques and unlocking a stupid amount of combat jutsu like a giant chakra skeleton that acts as mecha armor. For example. But when Sakura finds him, he's just finished fighting a powerful opponent, he's weakened, he's blown through most of his daily spell slots so to speak.

The most frustrating thing about this plotline? She has a chance.

So in canon what happens is that she shows up, pretends to want to join him (reasonable, she tried to defect with him the night he left, it has precedent), gets told to murder Sasuke's previous medic in cold blood, and then hesitates. She fumbles it. She fumbles it!!!!! This is insane!!! She has to be saved Kakashi, and then again by Naruto when she IMMEDIATELY FUMBLES IT AGAIN. I'm frothing at the mouth! I'm spitting blood! The only way this is narratively satisfying is if you hate seeing girls in combat and love seeing Naruto make murder-suicide pacts.

Fuck off. We're doing it my way.

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

I have a question:

I didn't include all of them, just the ones that are named and visually distinct. Pics and propaganda below! Also tags bc I want to get this question in front of as many monsterfuckers as possible 😤

Glintstone Dragon Smarag

Pros: smart (eats sorcerers and can cast spells, so he must be)

Cons: eats humans, gaudy jewellery

Flying Dragon Agheel

Pros: owns land, fire is a classic for a reason

Cons: aloof (won't burn the undead of the lake even though they want it), land ownership is of a lake with some pretty crummy ruins on it, kinda boring

Ancient Dragon Lansseax

Pros: is an ancient dragon and therefore very beautiful and powerful with gold wings, can take human shape, has political connections in the city, is powerful enough that she has an incantation that is not only named after her but explicitly draws on her power

Cons: stone scales might be a bit rough compared to non-ancient dragons

Dragonlord Placidusax

Pros: has two heads to get freaky with, commands the respect of all ancient dragons, can manifest fake nails made out of lightning so he'll always be ✨fabulous✨, is arguably the strongest dragon, former Elden Lord, hot old man energy

Cons: former Elden Lord, is missing two of his heads, is quite badly injured and thus can't get freaky as easily as he used to

Lichdragon Fortissax

Pros: loyal and devoted (gave his life to try to save his best friend), has permanent goth makeup and badass spikes coming out of him, is powerful enough to use TWO lightning spears at once, is besties with a prince and can probably get you free tickets to things

Cons: infested with deathblight that will kill you on contact, probably has a really nasty scale texture, those spikes can probably give you super tetanus

Bale the Dread

Pros: he THICC, inarguably the strongest dragon, probably has a big dick

Cons: kind of an asshole

Gransax

Pros: the BIGGEST dragon (definitely has a big dick)

Cons: literally dead

Greyoll

Pros: literally a MILF, enormous, devoted mother

Cons: bit of a pillow princess (will just lay there and let you do all the work), screams a lot

Magma Wrym Makar

Pros: was once human (can relate to you), adorable pudgy belly, won't fly away

Cons: drools magma a lot, lives in a wet cave

Decaying Ekzykes

Pros: ???

Cons: is riddled with disease, scale texture is probably AWFUL, lives in the middle of nowhere

@official-monsterfucker-posts @bearded-protagonist-enthusiast @roguemonsterfucker @serotoninswitch @crocofsouls @glowy-and-sharp @mira-mira-0n-the-wall

[nateconnolly]

Books clubs are held on this discord server

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Just One Sip: Chapter Three

Just One Sip: You take a job as a security guard at an old manor to pay off your crippling student debt. You did not expect to be guarding a mysterious man trapped in a glass cage or to fall under his starry eyes. You were going to break him out, but becoming his snack was not part of the plan.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Vampire Shit/BLOOD (What You Came For), Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Kissing in the Rain (Morpheus Makes it Hot, K?), You Get to Wander the Palace in a White Nightgown (Peak fanfic rt there), Filth, Two Fools in Love.

To Note: Vampire!Dream x Female!Reader, It’s a little dark but Reader doesn’t complain.

Word Count: ~10.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

This is half edited, I’ll take care of it later so enjoy!

You’d been wandering around the palace, a little aimless, when a woman had approached you, asking for help. Apparently a little girl was having a ball with a bunch of dreams and nightmares, but the woman that usually played the part of a princess, was needed elsewhere. The issue? The little girl really wanted a princess at her ball and would most likely burst into tears if one didn’t show up. A dream to a nightmare really. You were all for helping out, happy to have something to do if it meant that the little girl would be happy.

So with a quick wiggle of her fingers, the woman had transformed your simple jeans and shirt into a lavish dress fit for a princess. You felt like you had stepped into the world of Cinderella. Shimmering silver fabric wrapped around your body, tightening around your waist before billowing out in an enormous skirt. Lifting a hand, you ran your fingers over the unique neckline that was in the shape of butterfly wings, bejeweled with pearls and other crystal gems. Every inch of the dress sparkled with stars you really did feel like you had been plopped into a fairytale.

Feeling your shoes shift from flat soles to heels, you grabbed at the layered skirt and pulled it back to see your feet neatly tucked into a pair of silver heels that were just as shimmering silver as the dress. There was so much fabric, shimmering with every little movement, you were certain that you’d be the center of attention… you probably should have thought this through before saying yes.

“Oh, one last touch,” The woman spoke, peering at your face and hair. Another wiggle of her fingers and your hair was shifting to match the elegance of the strapless dress. Your hands reached up and brushed across your shoulders as you nervously looked around. Certainly you would look ridiculous in this outfit just wandering around the palace… at the very least, the enormous dress was practically weightless on you and you had no difficulty wearing it. The heels were another issue all together.

“I’ve never been good with wearing heels,” You worried, looking at the woman who then wiggled her fingers at herself and dressed herself in a dress fitting for a ball, but nowhere near as stunning as yours.

“You think the girls will care?” She countered.

“I look like I stepped off the set of Lily James’ Cinderella.” She snorted.

“This dress is so much better, it’s spun from stardust and stitched by the cosmos. Lily James could never pull off wearing pure starlight like you can.” Your hand was grabbed and she started pulling you through the palace. “Come, we’re late as it is.”

“You haven’t even told me your name!” You exclaimed.

“You can call me Andy,” She said as you both crossed a hallway and turned down a corridor that led to the great hall.

“Andy,” You repeated, trying to keep up with her hurried steps. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You both came to a stop in the grand hall and Andy turned to face you, taking both your hands in hers.

“You look tense,”

“I have no idea what I’m doing and have never worn anything like this.” You pointed out. “What’s not to be tense about?”

“They’re little girls, they’ll adore you.” Andy reassured you. You were about to remind her that looking like a princess and acting like one, was completely different, when Morpheus’ voice echoed in the large room and he appeared with several subjects following him.

“There are several other nightmares we need to discuss regarding the Corinthian’s relievement of duties…” Morpheus trailed off the moment he saw you standing in front of Andromeda. His entire being froze in place, his eyes taking the entirety of your beauty. Morpheus didn’t know what you were doing with Andromeda, but you were dressed in starlight and your precious skin was laid bare to tantalize him. Even across the grand hall he could already smell the bewitching scent of the heavenly blood coursing through your body, see the way you shifted in place with your muscles extending and contracting in obvious fluster… you were a sight to behold and erased all thoughts from the Endless, temporarily blocking the collective unconsciousness of the universe.

But as soon as your eyes connected with his, Andromeda was speaking to you and a shimmer of the Greek woman’s magic enshrouded you both. Then you were gone and the bright source of life and vitality disappeared from the grand hall.

“Sir?” A nightmare probed, having noticed that Morpheus’s attention had been drawn elsewhere.

“We shall continue this conversation at a later date, I have somewhere else I must be.” Morpheus told them, his voice touched with a hint of strain. Oh he was so hungry for you. Hungry not just for your precious vitality, but your light, your scent, your touch. Morpheus craved you like nothing he had in his entire being. So he followed you and Andromeda to the dream she had taken you to.

For a moment, you thought your ear drums had burst from the squeals of delight from the ten little girls all dressed up in gowns. When they had spotted you, they had been awestruck for but a few moments, then the happiest little shrieks erupted from their mouths and they swarmed you. Their faces had instantly dissipated your nervousness and you crouched down to their eye level with a big smile.

“Cinderella!” One of them exclaimed with a crooked smile, her eyes nearly glowing in delight. “I can’t believe you’re here!! Best. Birthday. EVER!!” You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm, very glad that you had said yes to Andy. It was worth seeing their smiles.

“Ooh, ooh, can you tell us all about Prince Charming?” Another one of the little girls begged. “I mean surely by now you know him well enough, you did marry him.” Shit. What were going to say? Just by their babbles you knew they were talking about Lily James and Richard Madden’s Cinderella… but you really didn’t know much about Kit in the movie. It wasn’t like there was an in-depth guide on the prince… granted he had more personality in the live action than the animated films.

“Oh,” You echoed, stalling and trying to come up with a way to appease them. Well, you suppose you could bull shit your way through it. No, children sometimes had a knack for seeing through lies. You’d tell them about your Prince Charming. If you had one that is… “Well, he is kind, though it might not seem like it because he is so focused on his duties. Being a Prince is a very important job.” The little girls nodded in agreement, fully engrossed with your words. “But if you are lucky enough to get to know him, you’ll learn how important family is to him, and I’m not talking about direct family, but friends as well.”

“My mom says that having good friends is really important.” You nodded in agreement.

“Very important, you can rely on friends for help you when you need it.” You said before continuing on with your description of your dream Prince Charming. Little did you know that while you spun a tale of your dream prince, you were describing a certain Endless, and that Endless was hanging on every word you spoke. He memorized those details, ingraining them to memory, becoming everything you wanted and dreamed of. When you were in the middle of telling a tale of how you and your Prince Charming had met, Morpheus changed his clothing to formal ones, dark as eternal night. Then he began stepping forwards, making his presence known.

The little girls surrounding you zeroed their eyes on him in a matter of moments and fresh squeals permeated the lavish ball room.

“It’s Prince Charming!!!” They cried out in excitement while you raised your eyes. Shock rippled through your body and you rose to your feet, clutching your hands to your silver stardust covered chest. It was one thing to be dressed like this in front of a bunch of princess loving girls, but Morpheus!? You felt embarrassed and self conscious of your body. So you stared at your glove covered hands and let the elated little girls fawn and squeal over the inhumanely beautiful Morpheus. Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you with a puzzled look on his face.

“They keep calling me ‘Prince Charming’… do you know why?” He quietly asked you as the little ones gathered in a group and looked at the pair of you standing together with wide eyes. If was like their fairytale had come true, for you and he were the picture of Prince and Cinderella.

“Just go with it,” You whispered back. “They think we are two Disney characters they love and I do not want to ruin this dream.”

“Very well,” Morpheus spoke, having no problem letting the dream progress with the little ones calling him ‘Prince Charming’. He had you in front of him, dressed beautifully and draped in stars. It was an indulgence to see you like this. “Will you tell me about this ‘Prince Charming’?”

You blinked at him, wondering how a being like him had no idea who Prince Charming was. Then you remember he’d been trapped for 106 years and inwardly chastised yourself for assuming he’d know about Disney.

“He’s from a children’s movie. Basically, a poorly treated woman, Cinderella, is forbidden from going to a ball by her stepmother. Her fairy godmother helps her out with a little bit of magic and she get’s to go to the ball.” You began explaining, picking at your glove covered fingers. “So she goes to the ball and meets the prince, Prince Charming, they dance, only the magic has a time limit that expires at midnight. The woman has to rush away from the ball because of it, leaving behind a shoe which the prince uses to find her again.”

“And these little girls think you are that Cinderella?” Morpheus asked for clarification, thinking over what you had told him. You nodded.

“And they think you are Prince Charming, I don’t want to ruin this for them, they’re so happy.” The hopeful look on your face was one that Morpheus refused to ruin, so he smiled (more like smirked), and offered his hand to you.

“Would you do me the honors, Cinderella?” You nearly blanched at him, your jaw threatening to drop open at how easy the Dream Lord fell into the role. The little girls, who had shuffled closer, looking between you two in reverence, gasped. Then they squealed.

“I don’t know how to dance!” You whispered shouted at him, panic filling your body. Morpheus could hear your heart speeding up in your chest. Could see the way fresh blood bloomed beneath your skin to perfume you with a heavenly scent. So delectable. So hungry. Morpheus’s fangs threatened to descend, your bare shoulders and neck enticing, all but calling for him to bury his face there. Sink his teeth into your flesh. Drink your sweet, sweet blood, warm liquid pouring down his throat. Ecstasy. “Morpheus.”

He blinked from his intimate thoughts and arched an eyebrow at you, finding delight in your wish to make this dream perfect for the little ones.

“This a dream, Y/N,” Morpheus reassured you. “All you have to do, is wish to dance.” You stood stiffly for a few moments more, the little girls on the edge of excitement. It wasn’t as if you didn’t wonder what it would like to be swept around on the dance floor by a prince, by Morpheus. So you raised your gloved fingers and took his offered hands. The little girls all squealed with glee and Morpheus, putting on a show of a life time, led you to the center of the ballroom. You swallowed thickly, worrying about tripping or making a fool of yourself in front of both Morpheus and the little ones. The morbid embarrassment you would feel…

And yet… Morpheus’ eyes, staring deep into yours, captured your entire mind and stole all thoughts of unease and insecurity. Your body seemed to know what it was doing the moment music began playing from somewhere, and your feet began moving in time with Morpheus’.

“I’ve never danced with someone before,” You absentmindedly spoke while Morpheus effortlessly twirled you around the dance floor. He smirked, pleased to know that he could have one of your firsts. He’d have all of them in time.

“I am honored to have that privilege.” He told you, spinning you in a circle. You were surprised that your feet effortlessly pulled off the maneuver, not tripping over the skirts swilling about your legs in a shimmering silver storm. Around and around you went, almost floating across the beautiful tiled floor. The Dream Lord twirled you around, effortlessly lifted you off your feet, and held you against his chest with the gentleness of a lover. Gods you were falling all that harder for the being.

Morpheus wasn’t that far off from your feelings, indulging in the closeness of your body, enraptured by your stunning beauty that was only enhancedby the stardust and cosmos wrapped around your stellar body. Andromeda had done a wonderful job dressing you up as a fairytale princess, because you truly looked like royalty. And your skin. The neckline of your dress left much to be desired for Morpheus was tantalized by the perfume of your blood. The flush that bloomed just beneath your skin spread your divine blood all across your body. It was like you had doused yourself in an aphrodisiac. Your smell was already making him loose his inhibitions.

So when your dance finally ended, Morpheus was glad that the little ones had disappeared, falling into a deeper dreamless sleep that left you all to himself. Pulling back your hands from his, you stared at your covered fingers with a slight frown.

“Is something wrong?” Morpheus questioned, intending to eliminate anything that took away your bright smile and adoring gaze. You looked back up at the impeccably dressed Endless, and once again admired how incredible Morpheus looked dressed as a prince. Even if it was a dark one.

“My hands,” You spoke up, raising your sweating fingers. “I never realized how hot gloves might get when dancing, I can only imagine what it was like for the woman who wore these for hours.” Morpheus shifted his hands and began tugging the glove from your left hand. You let him, watching as he carefully pulled them free of your arm and hand. The soft fabric melted to shimmering dust that floated upwards and disappeared. He pulled the remaining glove from your hand and settled his eyes on yours once more.

“Those women were accustomed to such dealings, it was normal life for them.” Morpheus gently spoke, his eyes trailing along the curves of your face. “Would you care for another dance?” Your face warmed once more, and unbeknownst to you, that only made more of the sweet scent of your blood perfume your skin. Morpheus shivered in delight, his throat aching to be parched by the sweet nectar pulsing within your body.

“If you have time, I know you are busy.” You shyly answered, not wanting to hog Morpheus’ precious time.

“I will always have time for you,” Morpheus reassured you before taking your hand in his and gripping your waist once more. This time he chose a slower song for the orchestra to play, wanting to savor and enjoy every millisecond he had of you dressed in starlight and within his arms.

“Do you? I mean, Lucienne explained to me what it is that you do and that seems like a very important job.” You said, finding yourself all that much closer to the Endless. Your bodies were practically touching now. Morpheus could feel the softness he craved, only just barely hidden from him by billowing layers of silver cosmos. And your scent. Oh how you made his hunger burn in the back of his throat. One hundred and six years was nothing compared to how you made him hunger. Almost like the forbidden fruit, for Morpheus knew that if he had one more sip, he would never let you leave.

Perhaps it was cruel of you to remain in his palace, teasing, taunting him with your ambrosial smell that echoed the divine blood that ran through your veins… and yet Morpheus would find himself once again despondent if you ever left. You were such a beautiful life residing within his dark halls.

“Am I not doing my duty?” Morpheus countered with a smirk. “I am overseeing a dream, ensuring that Andromeda is doing her duty as intended.”

“That sounds rehearsed,” You rebutted. “And like an excuse. The Dreaming is impeccably run and everyone does their job very well. You don’t need to oversee anything.”

“Then perhaps I simply wished to indulge in the honor of dancing with you when your beauty shines brighter than Sirius.” Your mind went blank and so did your ability to dance. You tripped, your legs in a tangle, and let out a yelp. Good god, you were going down hard. But rather than ungracefully falling to the floor in a jumble of limbs and fabric, Morpheus plucked your falling body and stepped in a half circle, using your falling momentum to pull you right back to your feet. Only he didn’t just make sure you didn’t fall. You didn’t know if he meant to or not, but Morpheus’s strength sent you crashing right into his chest.

Letting out a small grunt as you collided with his black covered figure, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder, hooked around his neck to stabilize yourself. Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your chest at this point.

“Oh my god,” You wheezed, clutching Morpheus’s hand which you still held, and pulling your face away from where it had almost smashed against his shoulder.

“My apologies for distracting you,” Morpheus’ voice floated into your ear in close proximity and with barely a shift of your head, your eyes met his. He had the subtlest of smirks on his lips (because he definitely knew he was the cause of your tripping and was entirely unapologetic as it had landed you within his arms) and his eyes were a mix of silver and black, no hint of their usual blue storm. You really needed to figure out what each color meant.

“Don’t apologize, I’m just clumsy,” You replied faintly, every inch of your skin feeling hot from his proximity. You almost wanted to get closer to him, his coolness soothing the flames dancing along your flesh. Morpheus was drunk off your scent, the sweetness of your blood no longer subtly perfuming your skin but ensnaring all of his senses to that he was under your spell. Your heart rate was coaxing him to you, fast and rhythmic, pushing your ambrosial blood through your body in a manner that repeatedly called to Morpheus. Starving. He was starving. Had been since indulging on the blood straight from your vein. None of his usual sources had been desirable or palatable to the dream lord since his return. Only you.

“You’re far from clumsy, Y/N,” Morpheus murmured, maintaining his arm around your waist while bringing his hand up to trace the curve of your jaw. “I have encountered many royalty and fairness within my existence and yet none of them compare to your astral beauty.” As he spoke, Morpheus allowed himself to sneak closer to your bared skin. Your cheeks almost brushed, no they did, and you shivered slightly as pearlescent skin cooled your inflamed one.

“Pretty sure you can thank Andy for that,” You meekly whispered. Morpheus chuckled at your deflection.

“Andromeda merely enhanced what you already have,” His lips brushed against your neck, against your pulse. Fluttering, fast, full of delectable life. You slowly exhaled, feeling the gentle brushes of midnight strands tickling your cheek. Did you really need to still be leaning into him? Probably not, but you weren’t inclined to move, not when it felt so nice to be in his arms. Not when the Endless had you enchanted like this. You bewitched each other. Morpheus’ lips rested over your pulse, his throat arching and teeth already sliding free. Oh to have just one more sip. His lips just barely parted, itching to sink into your flesh and finally sate the agony of hunger churning inside his being. The breath caught in your chest because you could feel the heat of his mouth. No. He promised himself that he would not do this to you, he had already disrespected you by taking without asking once before. He refused to harm you again for he knew that he might not be able to control himself.

So Morpheus promptly detached himself from you, his inner being raging from the loss of your soft warmth, your ensnaring scent. He saw confusion bloom within your eyes, tinged with hurt, and put an end to the temptation.

“This dream is over,” He spoke, ending the fairytale just as quickly as it had started.

You were suddenly standing in a darkened grand hall, the silence of the large room almost deafening now. Your aching heart was in your throat and your eyes burned. Then Andromeda hurried up to you. You turned your eyes to her.

“What did I do wrong?” You whispered, trying not to cry because surely you had done something to anger Morpheus, to ruin the idyllic dream in which you felt so happy. You had felt like a princess, had danced like one, had been spun around, lifted off your feet… you’d danced like Cinderella and felt like her too. “Andy, what did I do wrong?”

The Grecian woman strode up to you and took your trembling hands, wishing she could placate you with an answer that would bring back your lovely smile. But she couldn’t, because nothing she could say would explain Morpheus’s abrupt departure from the dream. Nor could she tell you of her lords intimate thirst for you. So she led you towards your rooms, determined to at least sooth your hurt and confusion.

She led you to your rooms, had you change out of the gorgeous stardust and cosmos dress, and take a soothing bath full of herbs and perfumed oils that would surely ease you. While you sat in the bath, there were cracks of thunder. Booming, echoing, almost shaking the marble of the palace. Eyes lifting to the beautiful skylight overhead the bath, you watched lighting illuminate pitch black clouds. A storm was building overhead, souring what had once been a gorgeous day.

“It looks like it is going to rain,” You softly commented. Andromeda, who was kneeling behind you and absentmindedly tending to your hair by hand, rather than by magic, hummed in agreement. Oh yes it was going to rain, perhaps better described as a storm. A violent one. The Grecian woman knew not what her lord was despondent over this time. You most likely. But why? Had you and he not had a nice time dancing within the dream? You’d been the picture of perfection upon the dance floor, footsteps in time with endless grace and beauty. No one could quite predict what Morpheus’ mood would be like when he was in love. Would he fall into a state of depression this time? Crushed once more from a lost love? Andromeda didn’t know for you were a mortal living within the Dreaming. Would you spurn Morpheus’ love for you? Or would you be accepting of his true nature?

“Yes it seems so,” Andromeda echoed quietly. Whatever might come from Morpheus’s infatuation with you, it had to be your decision on how you would proceed once you learned the truth. And you would, for you were a persistent mortal. Eventually you would worm the truth out of someone, if you didn’t already have your own suspicions. “I am sure the storm shall pass, my lady, for they always do given enough time.” You spent the rest of your bath staring up at the tumultuous clouds, wondering what was causing such unpleasant weather.

Your skin was pruning by the time you decided to pull yourself from the cold waters. You dried yourself and changed into one of the fancy yet incredibly comfortable white nightgowns Morpheus had supplied to you. Fixing your hair for the night, you slipped into your lavish bed and snuggled yourself into the blankets. Surely a good nights sleep would alleviate your unease.

Rather than peaceful dreams which you had been used to since arriving in the Dreaming, you were tormented by nightmares. The nightmares of course, didn’t torment you, but the dreams you had were still unsettling and made you feel restless. After yet another nightmare talking to you instead of doing their proper duty, you woke up and stared at the canopy of your bed. Shimmering fabric glimmered overhead, highlighted by flashes of lightning that seemed relentless, fluttered and swayed.

Wind was wailing outside the palace, screeching and beating down on the Dreaming with the might of the fiercest hurricane. Punishing even. Sighing to yourself as rain drowned out your thoughts, you pulled your bedcovers aside and got up. Restlessness had settled in your body and you doubted that you’d get any more sleep, so you were simply going to walk the halls until sleep finally came back. Departing your rooms, you wandered down empty halls while the storm outside continued to batter the realm. No lights were needed as you walked the halls, the flashes of lightning illuminating every surface of the palace.

Your wandering felt aimless, and you had perhaps walked halfway across the palace to new halls before you became aware of your surroundings. You didn’t recognize where you were.

“Well this is a bother,” You sighed to yourself, looking around and wondering where the hell you were. You weren’t bothered by the fact that you had no idea where you were, but by the fact that you could have sworn you’d seen all there was to see in the palace. Apparently not. So you poked around and took your time to marvel at statues and works of artwork. Trailing your fingers across a statue of a very beautiful woman, you were admiring her facial structure when a bright flash of lighting revealed a shadow of a person behind you. Turning in place, you glanced out the wall of windows to see a balcony and someone standing out in the storm. “What in the— who would stand out in that mess?” You questioned, moving to the window for a closer look.

Making it to the window, you peered out and squinted through the torrential rain…

“Morpheus!!?” You gasped, your eyes wide in shock. What was he doing outside in weather like that!? The dream lord was standing outside on the balcony, allowing the full force of the rain and gale pelt his body. Wondering what he was doing, you searched the hallway for the nearest door, and ventured out into the storm.

Rain pelted your body, soaking your white nightgown and quickly plastering it to your skin. You held a hand up to stop the harsh rain from hitting your eyes and approached the brooding endless, having no idea that it was him causing the torrential downpour and thunderous skies. Shivering from the cold, you came to a stop next to Morpheus and looked up at him in confusion.

“Morpheus?” You questioned, hoping that you were speaking loud enough so that the Endless could hear you. He did and turned to look at you in surprise. His eyes were black and shimmering, not to mention ringed with red. You hugged yourself, disliking the way the pelting rain made your skin sting.

“You should not be out in the rain.” The despondent Endless told you, not wishing for you to be out in such an environment. Certainly with the way your hair and nightgown stuck to your skin.

“You’re out in the rain,” You pointed out. Of course he was, he was punishing himself for hurting you and wallowing in self pity from knowing that he could not have you in the way that he wished.

“This is where I wish to be,” He told you, standing stiffly next to your body. Even with the torrential rain washing over your skin your scent still permeated his senses. It certainly didn’t help that he was envious of each and every drop of water that trickled across your skin. Your nightgown was soaked and almost sheer against your lush flesh, giving a sneak peek of all that Morpheus wished to adore. It only grew worse when you stepped closer and tilted your head to look at him, baring your neck to his intimate desires once more.

“Why are you punishing yourself?” You softly asked, worry etched upon your lovely features.  “In this kind of weather? What is wrong, Morpheus? What did I do?” You further questioned, thinking back to how he had ended the idyllic dream so quickly. Morpheus forced his gaze away from yours and turned back to stare gloomily out over his realm.

“I have gravely hurt you, Y/N,” Morpheus replied, his pain rich within his voice. “I have hurt and wronged you in a way that I shall never forgive myself for.” You were confused, having no idea what he was speaking of and with no memory of him ever hurting you.

“I don’t understand,” You whispered, your eyebrows drawing together. Morpheus refused to look at you, feeling as if he had no right to gaze upon you. A Night and Time sent woman who had saved him from his confines. You reached to tug on his coat. “Morpheus, what is there to forgive?” Your fingers slipped down his star lined coat as you began retracting your hand, feeling like you were not making any progress getting through to the Endless… but then Morpheus’s fingers sought out your retreating ones. He grasped your hand and slowly brought it up to reveal your palm. The same one you had sliced open.

“Have you so easily forgotten what I’ve done?” Morpheus questioned with a strained voice, keeping your palm exposed in a point. He still wouldn’t look at you, but you knew what he was talking about. Your neck tingled in reminder. Teeth sinking into your neck, blood slipping down your neck to your collarbone… sounds of relief, pleasure, desire. Right, Morpheus had vampire tendencies and had a snack upon being released… why was he so bothered by that? “I have wronged you, hurt you, and refused to allow myself to do so again.”

What? Is that why he was trying to keep you at arms length? That every time you got close he suddenly drew back? Because he was afraid of hurting you? Pressing your lips together, you raised your hand and slipped your fingers to his face, gently forcing him to turn his head and look at you. The Endless looked so tormented and upset, and that greatly upset you. So you gave him your boldest statement to date.

“What if I gave you my permission,” You told him, slowly drawing your fingers along Morpheus’s sculpted cheek. Staring determinately into the eyes of the Endless, you stood in the pelting rain and shivered from the cold. You wouldn’t leave until you had an answer. Morpheus stared down at you, his entire being a mash of conflicting emotions and urges. His throat was dry, his insatiable thirst momentarily at bay, and stared down at you. Slowly, painfully slowly, his face drew closer to yours. You leaned closer, feeling sheltered from the harsh rain and blustering winds.

Your heart was beating rapidly and your shivers getting more pronounced the longer you stood in the rain… but all you could focus on was the inhumanely beautiful being in front of you. You thought that maybe you wouldn’t get an answer from Morpheus this night, or any time soon for that matter… just tension, silence, and the sound of the hellacious storm.

“Is that enough or shall you still keep your distance from me?” You faintly asked, still insistent on getting an answer from him. Morpheus would have you beg no longer, closing the minuscule gap between your faces. His first kiss was soft and gentle, long. His lips pressed against your own with a touch of starlight. Enchanting and hypnotic, hot and cold. You felt like you were frozen in place for a moment, only able to stand there while the being that had you wrapped up in his spell, kissed you.

But then you finally managed to kiss back, and the sweet and delicate kisses turned shorter, quicker, more urgent and almost even desperate. Those thoughts were fleeting as Morpheus slipped an arm around your waist and pulled your shivering body flush against his. Star-sculpted lips pursued your own desperately, despite the rain constantly running down your faces and trying to break you apart.

It wasn’t long before he had you gasping for air in between kisses, wanting more but still needing to breathe. Kiss after kiss, each one more intense than the previous, the Endless’s hunger only became more and more apparent. To kiss your lips was better than he had ever dreamed about. You weren’t that far off either, having been drawn into a daze just from his taste.

Morpheus brushed his hand over your cheek and dug his fingers into your wet hair, pushing your mouth closer to his while flicking his tongue along your lip. More, he wanted more. Not just to kiss you. He wanted to drink in your taste, indulge his tongue, feed on your soft sounds. A small moan slipped from your lips and the Endless devoured it greedily, feeding off the precious sound as he so intimately desired. It was almost as delicious as your blood. Your own fingers found midnight strands and wound themselves around them as the Dream Lord moved in a half circle, effortlessly lifting you off your feet. The bitter cold and pelting rain disappeared as warmth surrounded you, followed by low light.

Opening your eyes, you wanted to look around to see where Morpheus had moved you, but the moment your eyes connected with Morpheus’, you couldn’t tear them away. He was looking at you with those starry pitch black eyes, but you could see the want and desire within them. Oh how he wanted you, and not just for the blood running through your veins, but he wanted to taste your flesh, adore your skin, lavish your body in all the ways he’d imagined while locked in his cage. He wanted to love you, adore you, worship you in a way that was sure to indicate his true ardor for you. You would know of his reverence, surely. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your blood began rushing across your chilled skin.

You drew your fingers from his hair to his jaw, captivated by his beauty and numb to the chill in your body. You stroked his jaw, traced his lips with your fingertips while marveling at his sheer perfection, then appreciated how snowy and marble like his skin was.

“You’re so beautiful,” You whispered in awe. Morpheus’ eyes glowed with cosmic embers and he leaned in once more, your noses brushing. Resting your fingers lightly where jaw met neck, you looked at the Endless being with a pleading look in your eyes. “Let me love you, please.” You whispered your plea, trying not to shiver as your soaked nightgown cooled, only adding to your chilled state. He would have you beg no further, twisting his head so he could claim your lips once more.

While the Endless pursued your lips and taste, his long fingers met at the center of your soaked back and his fingers pulled outward. The satin material of your night gown disintegrated beneath his pull and you felt the top loosen around your shoulders. Morpheus’ fingers pressed into your bare skin while he kissed you deeper, tangling his tongue with yours. Your bare skin beneath his fingers was cold and damp and the Endless disliked that greatly. So he tore at the fabric of your nightgown, stripping the soaked material from your body until you were shivering in front of him, naked and entirely beautiful.

Your noses brushed when Morpheus’ lips departed yours, and for a few moments you mourned the loss of warmth, but then his deep starry gaze connected with yours. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around your waist, Morpheus drew the fingers of his other up your side. He took a moment to appreciate the pure majesty and delicateness of your being. Precious, pure… all his. Fingers trickled along your flesh, lips brushed against your own, it was debatable who was under whose spell, for you both were spellbound.

“I crave you,” Morpheus softly rumbled words flittered across your lips and you brushed your fingers through his obsidian locks once more.

“I’m here,” You replied, eyes searching his. His eyes, they glowed silver when his powers expressed themselves. Blue was his normal color, bright and intense… But black, black meant hunger, and you knew that he was starving. The fingers you had resting against his neck crept up to dance across his cheek. “I’m here and you can have as much as you want.” Rather than reply to your affirming words, welcoming words, Morpheus gently lifted you into his arms and carried you to a lavish bed fit for a being such as you. Gently placed upon sheets that felt like satin, you let your thumb brush over his lips while the vampiric being stared at you with the intensity of a supernova. Hunger. Desire. Want. Need. Desperation. You pulled his lips back to yours, desperately wishing for that wonderful floating feeling within your body once more.

Morpheus hungrily responded to your demand, nipping and tugging at your lips until you were softly panting and moaning beneath him. You could feel sharp teeth scrape over your lips, the being hovering over you just barely holding back his monstrous side. But he couldn’t hold back when his teeth caught the edge of your lip and small trickle of blood was smeared across your mouth. Morpheus pulled your lips closer, dragging his tongue across the smeared crimson and shuddering as your exquisite taste once again filled him with euphoria. Your lips parted with a soft moan as Morpheus’ mouth wandered, the being having licked every smear of blood from your lips.

He let his lips follow the curve of your jaw to the soft flesh beneath, and then to the place where your pulse fluttered at an increased pace. Every bit of your body was blooming with reaction, tantalizing and beckoning to be lavished, and you couldn’t help but squirm against soft sheets when cool fingers carved paths up your bare frame. Morpheus ran his fingers across your stomach to your ribs, taking in every bit of your beauty as he went. With every bit of your skin exposed, Morpheus found himself running his teeth along the places where your veins ran, taking the time to kiss your skin with ticklish teases.

“I have dreamed about touching you, caressing your skin, taking you far from that place which treated you with so little respect,” Morpheus husked against your skin, his teeth playing a dangerous game of teetering between scraping and cutting your skin. The wicked sharpness of the points made you shiver and tremble. You felt like you might beg to feel that wonderful feeling that came with Morpheus sinking his teeth into your flesh and whimpered, tugging on his hair and dragging a hand down his neck. “I have dreamed of nothing but you since I first caught your scent.”

“What do I smell like?” You questioned, suddenly self conscious about yourself. A silly notion, you were already naked beneath him. He made it clear that your scent was like drug to him. Morpheus nipped at the curve of your breast, a tinge of black creeping into his vibrant blue eyes as he lifted them to yours.

“Sweet,” Morpheus’ tone was low, dulcet, drawing out inner stirrings of desire that already nipped at every corner of your body. It was almost unbearable. “Your scent winds its way into my senses like the first signs of spring flowers. Fresh and teasing.” He moved his lips to your navel, marveling at the softness of your body. It was as if you descended from the goddess Aphrodite herself, plump and soft, naturally beautiful. “But then once it truly ensnares me, it locks me within its grasp. Twists my mind up in an agonizing temptation that pulls on every bit of will power I possess.” Morpheus drew from your touch, moving his hands to your hips where he drew your left leg up and tilted his head to press his face into your thigh. “And when I think I can’t get anymore wrapped up in your spell, you rip away all other primal desires until all that I can want… is you.”

This time Morpheus made a point to drag his teeth along the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, feeling the lovely hum of your blood rushing from the veins that lay just beneath your skin. It was torturous. Fast paced. Lush and thick. Hot. Full of life. Morpheus could help himself and nipped your inner thigh, only drawing the barest hints of blood from your skin to taste the nectar that filled your veins. You gasped and scratched at his hair, feeling only a kiss of pain before his mouth sucked on your skin and tongue flicked across the little puncture wounds. Your face warmed the moment your ears caught the soft sounds rumbling from Morpheus’ chest. God, it sounded like even a drop of your blood tortured the Endless with divinity.

“I fear the only one that shall ever sate my thirst is you.” The Endless admitted, nuzzling your thigh further and kissing the oozing bite. You ought to be scared from that statement. Fearful that you would be the only one who Morpheus would ever want to feed from, for surely that might put you on the brink of life and death. What if he took too much? What if he accidentally killed you because he was so hungry? Those thoughts didn’t scare you. You liked that he wanted you just as much as you him, and not just for your blood. No being spoke as poetic about your scent, your body, and not appreciate your being as a whole.

“I— I want to be yours,” You told him, working up the courage to say what you had been wishing the past few weeks. “There is nothing more in my life that I want than to be yours and for you to be mine.”

“And you shall, for I refuse all others,” Morpheus promised, the dark beast within him clawing at the seams of his mortal form to have you. Morpheus returned his lips to the little bite mark he had made on your thigh and he licked it, making sure that it was bleeding no longer before dragging his tongue along your skin to your hip. A beautiful moan touched by a breathless gasp departed your lips the moment his mouth drew close to your cunt. Oh, you had never had a mouth that close to your intimate flesh, and just his proximity made you want to squeeze your thighs together as electricity sparked from deep within your cunt. But the moment Morpheus sensed your muscles contracting and moving, he was placing his hands on your silken skin and forcing them to stay apart.

Morpheus started out slowly, gently, eager to taste more of you but wishing to treat you with the reverence of a thousand queens. His lips planted kisses along your hip, inching closer and closer to your throbbing flesh. Teasing. You wanted to squirm and push his head right where you wanted his mouth, your cunt. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. So you were resigned to breathe heavily, chest rising and falling in anticipation while the blood rushing through your body only swelled and perfumed your flesh further. The Endless effortlessly draped your leg over his shoulder and slipped his hand around your thigh to your ass, closing the gap between his mouth and your flesh.

Your first gasp was one of surprise. Ragged and breathless. The second, drowned out by a whine as Morpheus snaked his tongue through your folds and around your clit. You couldn’t help but try and wriggle your hips within his grasp, face on fire and fingernails clenching around the bedsheet. You were already wiggling around? Oh Morpheus was in for a treatif you were already reacting this beautifully… and he’d only just begun. He held your hip in a tighter grasp, one that would imprint his mark upon your body for eternity, and let loose the desire for you, through his tongue.

Morpheus carved a blazing trail across your flesh, igniting every nerve ending his devlishish tongue touched. He teased you menacingly, feeding the burning need that had consumed him for weeks. Only a pane of glass separating you from him. What exquisite torture. It was not enough to have you within his realm, his palace, his need surpassed your physical presence. The Endless had desired your flesh, your blood, your soul. Morpheus wanted it all…

You cried out sharply when your darkened lover’s lips found your most intimate flesh and sucked… and oh how glorious that sound was. Hand finding its way into midnight strands, you clenched your fingers and scratched at Morpheus’ scalp. You clawed at him, dug your other hand into soft bedding until you were fisting it, and writhed. Your hips thrashed, protesting the boundaries that Morpheus’ grip has set. Your shoulders arched and waned, and your leg kicked out while the hell of the one he had over his shoulder pressed into his back. You were feeling everything at once and it was overwhelming. Gasping on another whimper turned cry, your fingers harshly tugged on Morpheus’s hair. The endless felt the pull, the sharp tug on his hair that prickled across his scalp in sweet ecstasy. Your reactions were everything to him. Sweet. Inviting. Fueling. And your taste. The taste of your intimate flesh almost rivaled that of the divine blood rushing through your body. Growling softly, Morpheus raked his tongue over your clit once more, feeling the pronounced shudders within your body and the desperation in his own.

He wanted to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. Drink your vitality. Sate the ravaging hunger that seared in the back of his throat in an endless reminder.

It took everything Morpheus had to hold himself back from sinking his incisors into your thigh the moment you came undone beneath his ministrations. Head thrown back, you shook violently as what felt like molten pleasure rocketed through your veins. For a few moments your body had a mind of its own, muscles clenching and limbs jerking, you were along for the ride. So while you were writhing in pleasurable agony, Morpheus lapped up your liquid pleasure in an effort to distract himself from his burning hunger. It wasn’t hard, for you did taste exquisite and your pleasure was so beautiful and satisfying. But that hunger was getting so hard to ignore now that he had you stretched out and naked.

Your body finally relinquished control back to you and your limbs flopped to the bed as you moaned softly, wondering how one person could cause such ecstasy. While you continued to moan and pull yourself together once more, Morpheus licked at the remnants of your orgasm before slowly kissing his way up your hip. Your fingers curled briefly within his hair and you forced your eyes open to look down at the inhumanely beautiful creature currently kissing your body like it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was. You were.

“Morpheus,” His name came from your lips in a sweet whisper, but to the Endless it was like a crescendo. He shuddered and purred, ingraining the way you spoke his intimate name to memory. When he reached your breasts, he nuzzled your soft flesh and slid his hands up to your sides. His physical touch was almost like tortureto you. “Morpheus,”

“Have patience, beloved,” Morpheus purred, eyes glowing silver while his clothes began melting away from his body. You whined in frustration when his cool skin met your inflamed one and twisted beneath him, still feeling electricity along your skin. It was nearly impossible to stay still. Kissing his way along your throat, Morpheus couldn’t help but drag his teeth over your pulse. No, he would always taste that temping flesh if his mouth was near, no matter what the circumstance was. But you were getting impatient. So you dug your fingers into his soft hair and dragged his mouth away from your neck to put them where you wanted them: on yours.

The moment you had his lips pressing against yours, you pressed upwards, sliding your tongue across his lips while a rumbling chuckle came from Morpheus. You didn’t care that your own taste was on his lips, you just wanted every bit of him you could get, and you did. Morpheus raised a hand to grip your neck, fingers cradling your jaw while his teeth nipped at your sensitive lips and his tongue tangled with yours. You felt light headed, kissing him so deeply, so passionately, with such concentration that your forwent breathing just to kiss his lips… but even as you sucked greedy breaths for air, panted heavily, and felt a slight burn in your chest, you still didn’t stop. Morpheus could feel the way you were pushing your body to the limits, chasing after your want, your need. You wanted him almost as bad as he wanted you. He took pleasure in knowing that, great pleasure. Breaking the ravenous lip lock, Morpheus stroked your jaw while your noses brushed and you shuddered. You were his. He was yours. Mine. Mine. Mine.

So while his lips dove back to yours, the hand Morpheus still held on your side rapidly slipped down to your thigh and hiked your leg up against his waist. You raggedly gasped into his mouth the moment your soaked and pulsating cunt met his stiff cock. Morpheus devoured that beautiful sound you made. Even when your gasp morphed into a moan, the Endless continually pursued your mouth. To you it was almost overwhelming, Morpheus kissing you so deeply and him pulling your cunt against his cock. You raked your nails along his back, the muscles of your inner walls clenching aroundnothing… much to your disappointment. Whimpering against his mouth, you felt like you were going to combust into stardust when Morpheus rocked his hips into your throbbing flesh.

It was pure torture.

Feeling his cock rut against your damp flesh, push through your folds to glide ever so easily over your clit. Having the little sparks of pleasure that were always just short of true satisfaction burst along your inflamed skin. And the way he could twist your tongue with his… Your mouths broke apart and you sucked in oxygen while Morpheus gazed into your eyes. His own were a cosmic mix of blue and silver, shifting like pools sand. You went to beg him to do more than just tease you, but before you could utter even a single syllable, his cock was finally siding into your body.

You couldn’t help the little noise of surprise that caught in the back of your throat, nor the ever so soft whimper brought on by the slight sting of your walls. Nails clinging to whatever they could purchase, you trembled and shuddered beneath Morpheus while he buried his face in your neck and tried not to viciously rut into you because your body felt so damn good. Between the tantalizing blood rushing beneath your skin and the way your walls squeezed his cock, Morpheus had to force himself to take a few moments to collect himself when his hips pressed against yours. You yourself were nearly overwhelmed, torn between trying to wriggle and worm yourself free of the sting, and wanting to fulfill your intimate desire for the Endless being. But then Morpheus’ lips pressed against your neck and you could feel his breath on your skin, and that made a lightning bolt of electricity run straight through your body.

Entire body jerking in surprise, your proceeding gasp morphed into a moan when your movement made Morpheus’ cock push against spots within your cunt that made pleasure burn. Oh, oh my. Now you understood why your college friends were obsessed with their boyfriends. Your fingers clawed at one of his shoulders as you shifted in place and tried to replicate that wonderful feeling. Morpheus put and end to that immediately, body dropping against yours and sand slithering along your skin to keep you from moving about. Hand on your jaw, he forced you to stay still while his black eyes rose to meet yours.

“Don’t be greedy, Beloved, for my patience and will power hangs by a mere thread,” He softly warned. Clearly patience wasn’t your strong suit… he could play with that later, but not now. “I do not wish to accidentally hurt you.” Your thighs trembled against his and you slumped in place, ceasing your struggles against the Endless forces holding you still. God, could this being get anymore desirable?

“I’m not trying to be, I’ve just wanted you for so long.” Morpheus brushed a few tuffs of hair away from your face.

“And you will,” He reassured you, eliminating the small space between your lips to brush his against yours. “For eternity.” That made your breath hitch in your throat and your heart skip a beat. Seeing the blood rushing beneath your skin, perfuming it, Morpheus smirked and kissed you again. You could have sworn that you tasted starlight, or even dreams themselves as the Dream Lord kissed you. It was like getting lost in a sea of dreams, its gentle waves brushing against your skin and caressing your body.

But as lost as you felt in the soothing and bewitching lulls, nothing compared to the feeling of Morpheus’ inhumanly beautiful body brushing against yours as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forwards. A low moan departed your lips, sweet and dripping with a melodic quality that made the Endless tremble above you. And so you fell into a molten mess of pleasure beneath Morpheus, your hands barely clinging to him. His own hungrily worked over your body, brushing tantalizing curves, squeezing them, imprinting his touch upon your body.

Hand wrapping around your thigh, Morpheus hiked your hip up against his and pressed deeper into your body. Another whimper bubbled up from your throat. Surely it was a mix a of pleasure and discomfort that held you in its intimate grasp, snaking tendrils of addicting ecstasy around your mind until it had you within its grasp. You were nearly choking on it. Head turning to the side, your eyes caught starry black ones while your face pressed against Morpheus’. When his hips crashed into yours and sparked a crescendo of lighting through your body your lips parted with a cry, and he took that invitation.

Morpheus’ lips took yours by storm, his tongue seeking out yours while he swallowed your beautiful cry and endeavored to draw more from your. It was all so beautiful. Your lush body beneath his, so soft and warm. Your dizzying and desirous scent that bewitched his mind and ensnared his thirst. Your cunt squeezing ever so tightly around his throbbing cock while he repeatedly thrust into you. Never before was there a more beautiful sight before him. Even as you panted against his rabid kisses, struggling to breathe beneath his tongue and cock, the Endless still sought more.

Perhaps it was his way of distracting himself from the thick and delicious vitality thrumming just beneath the skin of your neck, so close to his mouth. Or perhaps it was finding out that your physical bodily pleasure was just as divine as your blood. Morpheus wanted you so terribly that he would reign hellfire upon anyone who dared to think to lead you from his side.

Your mouth broke free from his as you rasped for air and bucked your hips into the ones repeatedly crashing into yours. Shifting the leg Morpheus held firmly against his side, you dug your heel into his lower back and clung harder. What sweet and blissful ecstasy you felt, and yet, hew was still holding back. What more did you have to do to drag the entirety of this gorgeous being out? Tears hit your shoulder and you buried your free hand into his hair, tugging on the strands.

“Do it,” You rasped in between heavy pants. “Do it, I know you want to, I know you need to,” You pressed, nearly at the point of shoving his mouth against your neck until he took what you new he has thirsted over for so long. “Please stop starving yourself!” You practically begged. No, you did beg, for you would do so until he stopped starving himself and took what he wanted. You wanted him. He wanted you. Why didn’t he see that? Saline nipped at your eyelashes as emotions clashed with physical pleasure and you began to shake. “Morpheus, Morpheus please,”

 The Endless had the goddess of temptation naked and beneath him, and begging. No matter how much control he had over himself, Morpheus could no longer hold back his insatiable hunger for you. Lips paring, his incisors descended just as his mouth sealed over the place on your neck and sang ever so sweetly to him. A pained squeak followed by a whimper erupted from you the moment teeth broke flesh, and Morpheus moaned as your hot lifeblood filled his mouth. The pain you felt from his bite was ever so brief, lasting but a mere millisecond before unadulterated pleasure took over and heightened what you were already feeling.

Choking on your neck breath of oxygen, a wheeze passed your lips when pleasure filled ever nook and cranny your body had. Your cunt clamped down around Morpheus’ cock, holding him deep within your body. Rippling and forcing you to experience the most intense feeling of ecstasy you had ever felt, you were trapped within your own body and unable to do anything as your mind spun. You were oblivious to Morpheus’ own ecstasy and orgasm, the sounds he made as he drank your precious blood. Oblivious to his seed which filled your body in a territorial claim. Oblivious to the fact that after this night? You would never be leaving the Dreaming. But you didn’t care for in that moment, you felt you were exactly where you both wanted, and needed, to be.

A shudder went through your body as it fell lax and your limbs flopped to the soft silken sheets beneath you. Your mind still felt like it was floating and your body still basked in pleasure when Morpheus forced himself to stop drinking from your precious vitality, smearing your ruby blood along his lips and chin. He licked the wounds on your neck closed before lifting his head to urgently look at your face. To ensure the you were well.

You had a dazed look in your eyes, and your body trembled beneath him. Warmth seeping from the space where your were still connected. You didn’t react to the blood on his face, your blood, neither did you react to the ache in your neck. Fresh and staining. No, you were only focused on how beautifully gorgeous this Endless being was above you. You raised a hand and placed in on the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours for a kiss. The metallic tang of your blood upon his lips don’t bother you as you licked it away and kissed him deeper. You finally had what you wanted and it was addictingly sweet. Pleasurable.

Morpheus brought his own hand to your jaw, cradling your face as he drank sweetness from your lips and basked in the visceral pleasure that ricocheted within his being. Perfect. You were so perfect. And his. All his. One hundred years of captivity was nothing compared to an eternity of you by his side. After all, just one sip, was never going to be enough.

Date Published: 6/13/23

Last Edit: 6/13/23

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[farlee-wander]

Title art by me for the first ten stories on my (very humble) YouTube channel, where I read short stories as mini-audiobooks. I’ve been experimenting with drawing on a tablet and having a lot of fun!

A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings by Gabriel García Márquez

The Lottery by Shirley Jackson

The Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin

The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin

Details by China Miéville

The Knife by Richard Adams

There Will Come Soft Rains by Ray Bradbury

The Man Outside by Evelyn E. Smith

Loser by Chuck Palahniuk

Killswitch by Catherynne M. Valente

[commanderfreddy]

Olin Anvilcontrolled, age eleven

went back to dwarf fortress classic last night and was rewarded, as i so often am by this game, with a truly vivid portrait of a character (long story under the cut, blood and violence as is typical for df)

Olin Anvilcontrolled arrived at the age of eleven at the Fortress of Savefountain with her mother (Ubbul) and her new stepfather (Sarvesh). Since she was so close to the dwarven age of adulthood, I kept an eye on her to see what kind of skills she developed and what kind of career she'd be suited to. While the rest of her family settled in though, Ubbul soon giving birth to Olin's half-brother, Oddom, Olin had more trouble adjusting. Rather than playing in the corridors of the residential wing or in the temples or taverns with other children, she preferred to follow the web-gatherers and cave-fishers down the long, slippery passage to the under cavern where she would play, alone, with her little glass boat.

The cavern is not exactly the world's most supervised playplace, and I was horrified the first time I received the "A dwarf child has cancelled "play with toy boat: interrupted by Giant Bat" alert. But I needn't have worried. With a value system that prioritised martial strength, power over others, force of will, and - literally, textually - "sadism", eleven-year-old Olin beat the shit out of that huge beast with her bare hands until her mother, a hunter, arrived to put the bloodied and broken thing out of its misery. Being unarmed, untrained and not yet old enough to see a marvel movie unaccompanied, Olin wasn't able to kill it herself, but she was able to hold her own enough to increase her fighting skill to Adequate.

And then to Skilled, when a few days later another Giant Bat came at her.

And then to Proficient when the Olm man came.

Olin kicked so much ass in her one specific corner of the caverns - not too far from the floodgates that led back up to civilisation, not close enough that anyone would bother her on their way to work - she beat enough blood from the underbeasts to form a pool of blood for her to float her little boat in.

She continued to play there even after her stepfather died in those same caverns. Echospittles the Larval Deep of Boils, a Forgotten Beast scuttling in the form of an enormous spider, used its venom and webs to cut a huge swathe of vacancies into my military.

Olin and Sarvesh weren't close, but they had a positive relationship. After his death, she began to very frequently "feel love upon remembering gaining a sibling". I wondered if she could see her stepfather's face in that of her baby brother. I wondered how she felt about the absence of her biological father, Edem Copperdragon, now a position noble elsewhere due to his ceaseless contributions to the war against Otir Toothportal, Necromancer.

Despite her penchant for sadism and violence, Olin did not seem like a very cruel child to me. She highly disdained scheming (poking through Legends reveals that Edem was corrupted by enemy agents multiple times in her early childhood), and openly admired and was genuinely friendly with the two human Monster Hunters who defended her home. I began to understand her as someone who had only ever known a world of violence and war, and was trying to find her place within it. Her avoidance of other children and her determination to return to the same cavern corner and face whatever blind, mad animal was waiting there took on a very sad tone. That of a child on the cusp of adulthood seeking out pain, having mistaken it for glory.

I felt a sense of responsibility for her. Her life as it was seemed like a grand prelude, like she was someone whose narrative belonged in her late years, when she would be 120 years old, Legendary Fighter, Grand Master Leader, and all this was but her backstory. I was determined to ensure I could make her into someone she would want to be. As soon as she was old enough to receive labour orders, I'd put her in a squad of dwarves who would like her - I'd custom build a squad based solely around personalities, just so she wouldn't be a lone again. One of my dwarves was taken by a strange mood, and gifted the resulting legendary helmet to our site government. I earmarked it for Olin, as soon as she was old enough.

Mere weeks before she came of age, the fortress of Safefountain was laid to siege by the forces of Otir Toothportal, Necromancer.

Having been hounded by Forgotten Beasts from below, I had focused the majority of our defences on the cavern entrance, leaving our topside entrance unable to be sealed off entirely just yet. I ordered the floodgates to the caverns sealed nonetheless, hoping to save whoever was down there in the ponds and webs and Olin's little gorespot, while the rest of our dwarves - including Ubbul, with baby Oddom strapped to her back - held the undead at bay.

But as my military inevitably failed and the zombies began to swarm down the gullet of the increasingly poorly named Safefountain, I realised that sealing off the caverns had been in vain. By sheer coincidence, no one had been down there at the time. Not even Olin.

For the first time in her time at Safefountain, Olin was playing in the corridors of the residency wing. With the other children. She, 1-year-old Obok, 10-year-olds Lor and Lobam, 5-year-old Asmel, and Mayor Tosid were the last dwarves left alive.

As the undead surrounded them and the strength of Safefountain was broken, Olin cried out,

"Our time in the Dimensions of Prophecy is so brief!... This does not frighten me."