#younger sibling behavior fr

[old-lemon-tree]

Arthur being the first one to call Micah cowpoke, doing it all of ONE TIME and Micah calling him that every single time for the rest of the game has such an insane amount of petty energy

[tabl3]

I have always found it more than a little funny when the fandom props up one of the rats with a seething hatred for the other(s), citing the treatment that sibling gave to the other, when like,,,, they were all terrible to each other???? This is coming from someone who loves and adores all three, but like be so fr

Now I, someone who has three siblings as well, can excuse some of the teasing as sibling stuff. Some of the jabs as well. That's just what we do. Also some of it is just sitcom stuff. But.

We all know the infamous "Adam physically abuses Chase" argument. This is completely true, he does, and it's a problem. However Chase is not at all innocent. He's very much verbally abusive back to Adam, and Bree as well. Bree herself is verbally abusive to them both, and even has encouraged Adam to hit Chase in some episodes. She lashes out at them a lot more than necessary, and Chase belittles them both (Adam particularly). In summary: THEY ALL SUCKED TO EACH OTHER. No one treated one worse, even though Chase's abuse was considered more alarming by the fans because it was so overt, which is why everyone focuses on it.

Also,,, I think the real problem sometimes gets lost. His name is Donald Davenport. These kids were isolated, bionic, and without a parental figure that showed much emotional intelligence until Leo and more relevantly Tasha came around. Without the ability to socialize they didn't grow up understanding what is okay and what isn't, which is why Bree and Adam find Adam bruising Chase to the point of him being unable to wear short sleeves funny, Bree and Chase enjoy sniping at Adam's intelligence together, and the boys go overboard with screwing over Bree's chances at normalcy. This is the way they were raised, and Donald NEVER bothered to correct them, save for a few instances. It's also canon that he intentionally keeps an unbalanced power dynamic with Adam being the strongest overall, which encourages his behavior too. Playing devil's advocate, it was fair of him to keep them somewhat isolated when they were younger and unpredictable, but the extent to which it affected their behavior is not excusable. Basically Donald sucks regardless of opinions on the character, because he canonically doesn't try to fix the issues and will encourage them to treat each other the way they do, directly or indirectly by doing nothing about it when he's the parent and it's his job

So if you hate one of the characters for the way they treated the other, it's a little unfounded

Except for Donald

All the homies hate Donald

[katz-chow]

Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..

WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓

relationship with soap headcanons

warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad

a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))

childhood hcs

johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.

growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.

his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol

elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age

9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much

after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings

his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"

she makes a killer shepherd's pie though

always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.

he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.

he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet

at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"

blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family

his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?

it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half ��

johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner

broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)

had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug

he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her

he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day

he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”

was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door

wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.

got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭

laugh at that guys, mf was 15

personality & relationship hcs

johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”

such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit

this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.

he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye

he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep

feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep

speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)

i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper

one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out

johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.

his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.

whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble

number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.

feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full

when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.

he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible

he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore

causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside

not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up

but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you

the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)

he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are

he wants 4 kids by the way

[juniperpyre]

🤍💚 !!

as always these are long lmao

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

to be fair lily is soooo up to interpretation since we only see her through the lens of men (mostly snape). it's hard to say anything is particularly wrong besides flat portrayals. but seriousbrat who's analysis (x x) I always love has been talking about how the boys are often not written like teenage boys, in favor of woke feminist heros, and I think the same can be said for lily.

I think even people that like her use her as the moral compass. but she does almost laugh when james is bullying snape in SWM. so I see her more as someone who wants very badly to be good and kind, but it's at odds with her own desires/wants and sometimes needs (she needed to drop snape before it got to the point of him calling her a slur fr fr).

not that i don't think she's kind. I think she grows to balance the over-empathetic parts of her with her own needs, and dating James is linked to that. in the sense that she's doing something that she used to think would be wrong, but now is like "fuck it I want to".

so yeah back to her almost laughing, I think lily has an instinct towards cruelty to some extent. we know that severus, sirius and james all have a talent for cruelty, and those are the three people we see her befriending in the text. her being a woman also plays into her being the moral compass, but i would say that the pressures of her two societies necessitated her to be more mindful of her behavior. she had less options for recklessness, but, again, we know james and sirius are reckless! and severus is taking some sort of risk by signing up with the death eaters. she doesn't fuck with people who play it safe.

so yes i think there is this part of her she sees as bad that is interested in dark magic and being a bitch bc it's fun (oversimplification) that all three of those relationships allow her to explore in different ways. usually she keeps it locked away unless she deems it acceptable to use as a weapon. i think being a mom brings this part of her out, more, for better or worse.

🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to think?

this is kind of random but molly weasley. I think she was adored uncritically in early fandom and now she's just bashed both of which I think are two sides of the misogyny coin.

In general people project their own relationships with their parents onto characters like molly & walburga. molly is not super emotionally mature, she's cruel to hermione in book 4, she yells at her children and she plays favorites.

she also is the sole caretaker for all of her children, her husband, and then in 5, 6 and 7 the whole of the order. do we see anyone else taking the lead on household management? no! that's an enormous amount of stress. it's clear she feels responsible for the well being of her children and they are constantly in danger.

her two brothers died in the first war. she births all of her children during a war (ginny is born a few months before jily die). her whole adult life has been shaped by this conflict, and I'm sure it's impact what she believes care should look like. she's desperately afraid of her children making the wrong choices and ending up in a bad situation. I know this comes in the form of nagging about grades and making good career choices, but it's impossible for there not to be something deeper there

like I did not grow up with war in my country but I've had an incredibly unstable life up until age 25/26 (I am 27). my younger sibling (22) who I raised also has! and when she makes choices, there is a deep level of anxiety for me. there's a looming fear that something will end with extreme harm, even if that doesn't seem connected to that choice. I can only imagine how much that's multiplied when it's 1) your own children 2) active war & 3) your brothers died in the active war.

plus she makes me think of all the invisible labor women do to help war efforts. I don't think she's a great mom but I don't think she's horrible, she loves her children & is trying very hard and sometimes falling short or even failing. to err is human tho.

[apenguinbird]

Animal familiars in NRC: Scarabia and Pomefiore edition.

(A continuation of this and this.)

Scarabia

Jamil: Parrot

I’ll take no criticism for this!

The parrot was actually one of the many animals Kalim’s family had. They found each other by accident back when Jamil was pretty young.

Jamil was very proud of himself for finding his familiar, it was even a parrot, like the one the Sorcerer of Sands had. His parents were horrified though, I don’t think the Asim family would have been bothered by it but his parents still ordered Jamil to not let anyone know about his familiar.

 It wasn't until Kamil got his familiar that Jamil also totally found him too. Kalim was very happy for him though! He did always notice that parrot flying close to them, what a coincidence!

A great help for the kitchen and around the dorm… also a smart little spy.

The parrot can speak some words. Sometimes he likes to mess with other students.

Kalim has tried to feed him crackers in the past which Jamil has had to stop.

Jamil’s sister buys him little trinkets when they visit. She has even made come assesories with the feathers the parrot loses naturally. Jamil those keep some of them.

The parrot has saved Jamil from many insects in the past.

Honestly, that parrot is the only one in the dorm Jamil respects.

Kalim: Monkey

Again, no criticism.

With all the animals the Asim family had it was just a matter of time for Kamil to find him.

Instantly best friends, usually found on Kalim’s head or shoulder.

They had to teach him the proper diet for a monkey.

Kalim is actually very responsible with his family. 

His familiar enjoys to play with his younger siblings but they can be too much sometimes.

That monkey LOVES shiny things, jewelry, coins, or paperclips, he will take it. A bit spoiled ngl, still a sweetheart though.

Also a little bit of trouble maker but Kalim is there. 

They like to drink coconuts together.

“No, he didn’t do anything bad, look at his little cute face!” “Kalim, his hands are covered in paint.”

Kalim and Jamil’s familiars have the same dynamic as their respective mage.

Pomefiore 

Vil: Albino Raven

A graceful beauty just like Vil. 

Her name is Ivory.

Vil actually found her injured (albino animals don’t do well in the wild most of the time), the diagnosis didn’t look good but the raven pulled through, and Vil didn’t realize it was his familiar until after the bird fully recovered.

Has had photoshoots with Ivory in the past and Ivory is a natural for the camera and his followers love her.

Vil always makes sure she is on her best behavior and condition. Ivory loves to be pampered.

They have heard more than once about ravens being bad omens or something villainous, and they are so done.

Ivory helps Vil to make potions doing things like passing him ingredients and such.

“You wish you could be half as graceful as Ivory.”

Rook: Falcon

A scary duo, ready to hunt.

“My dear Faucon!”

If you are walking around campus there is a chance you will see a falcon staring directly at you. People say if you stare at it too much something bad will happen.

A great hunter just like Rook.

They used to go hunting together, they can no longer do that in NRC though, for the safety of other familiars and whatnot.

Nothing prevents them from stalking though!

Somehow the falcon has the same love Rook has towards Vil and his familiar.

Epel: Fox

Dang it Epel you messed up the bird theme the dorm had going on!

Back in his hometown Epel was really hoping his familiar was something strong and intimidating like a bear or a wolf.

He got a fox and was actually really disappointed he got a fluffy and cute little animal. Then he soon learned foxes are not animals to be messed up with. “You’re just like me fr.”

I can see his grandma knitting things for his familiar, also I feel like Grandma Marja would have a reindeer or moose as her familiar.

Once in NRC Epel had to teach him not to attack the familiars of other students.

Fun fact: Apparently foxes are rather fond of fruits, especially apples, they were destined for each other.

That little fox is a master at getting in and out of trouble.

Vil gave Epel a skincare (Furcare?) routine for his familiar too, for the horror of both Epel and his fox. His familiar has a very pretty coat now.

The fox is terrified of Ivory.

[pastelpousay]

⭐️Rina Headcanons that are actually just canon⭐️

I mostly made this for fun and so that people can understand me and my character a bit better since she is my first actual self insert ever. Also because I was too lazy to make a whole new reference sheet lmao. Also sorry I haven’t really been active 😭 I’m trying to appreciate my own creations and such by posting it less since I usually only made it just to post 💀😭 which is sad asf.

General:

⭐️Rina has two younger sibilings, a younger girl who is currently 16-17 and the youngest boy who’s 8. She does have a few half siblings, however she doesn’t know them.

⭐️Rina’s mom, is actually her aunt, they’re pretty similar looking but she’s always felt a bit different from them. This also explains as to why her mom so distant from her father (she doesn’t like him for many reasons). Her biological mother ran off and left Rina behind, she now regrets it and wants to see her, but her mom won’t allow her to (Rina is aware of this, while she would like to meet her mother she is a bit stubborn to since she did just leave her behind like that with the man who barely even speaks to her)

⭐️speaking of stubborn, Rina is really really really stubborn 💀 if you tell her to do something she doesn’t like she either won’t do it or she’ll do just what you asked and only that and nothing else purely out of spite (me core but I’m also like really tired💀😭)

⭐️Rina is 25-26 as of right now (I like to keep her 10 years around my age from now.)

⭐️her family does pottery for a living, they don’t make much money off it but they do what they can.

⭐️she’s always gone to bed pretty early, she had to as a kid, but she’s actually a night owl so she stays up pretty late often

⭐️she currently only has one friend, Andromeda, they’ve been friends since they were in high school

⭐️while Rina is a very shy and sweet person at heart she can still be very out of pocket. Her main goal is to make people laugh however sometimes it tends to backfire 😭

⭐️she can also be very mean 💀 especially if you piss her off she doesn’t play 💀😭 and she’s not as easy of a target as most people think she is

Warning for the next part ig it’s nothing too bad but still

⭐️She does show some signs of bpd (Borderline personality disorder) such as being obsessive and having abandonment issues. She is also very clingy so she finds it hard to let go of people she likes. She’s also really dependent on certain people (thus being Hades.)

⭐️her obsessive behavior dies down a bit, she is very impulsive during these times, when she’s finally developing feelings so she’ll do all that she can to get their attention (such as the way she goes after hades)

⭐️MOVING ON FROM THAT DARK ASS SHIT, Rina is pretty iffy with touch if it’s not coming from someone she trusts, even with people she does trust she’s pretty iffy with it, hugs are normal and it’s not like she never or rarely got one it just feels foreign to her, so she opts to giving gifts and letters, she struggles with talking aloud so most words of affirmations fr written unless she actually wants you to know this then she’ll push her issues aside and say it straight.

⭐️she’s an artist, she likes to paint, but her family does pottery for a living so she’s also learned how to sculpt

⭐️ now Rina is Ultra femme, but she’s still non-binary, although she doesn’t care too much about what label people give her, which is mostly fem aligning

⭐️I like to think she comes out to hades about this during one of their deeper conversations just cuz yea 😭😭

“Hades?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever feel like…you’re unsatisfied with what you are?— not like your job or like your personality I mean just like…being,!I dunno…I dunno how to explain it.”

“Uhh, I mean kinda but I’m not really getting what you’re trying to get at hon.”

“I mean like, say you’re like a woman and you’re fine with people seeing you as that but…just being that feels— like…, I don’t think about it too much y’know. Y’know man or woman things like that. I’m just me, I’m not a girl or a boy I’m just Rina, Cat,…Catarina. Just me.”

“…that’s a beautiful way of putting it, my little supernova .”

“Oh, stop you—“

[artsybug0]

So to explain, the ai Actor Millie offered to ask Eddie to babysit my kid, and she called him her older brother but used quotations so like, 'older brother'. so that leads me to think she just means like they friends but have a sibling like relationship so i wanna ask, what is Actor Millie & Eddie's relationship like? Friends? Sibling? Sorry to bother but i just got curious, sorry! - V

Yes yes yes!! I’m so glad that worked!

Millie has a family like relationship with Eddie and Barnaby no matter the Au!!

Eddie is always an older brother figure to Millie

And Barnaby is like a father figure for her too!

Ofc Millie has a dad already (adopted) but Barnaby reminds her so much of him and because she no longer lives with her family she feels home sick but Barnaby helps with that so much!

Millie also is the eldest daughter so she didn’t really have an older sibling to take care of her like she took care of her younger brothers!

(Actor Au)

Millie is a little antisocial. Just a little! She often isolates herself and purposely sits away from people and read on her phone!

If you pay attention to her outside of “she’s hot” you’ll notice that she actually seems very lonely. Before and early in her acting career(?) she didn’t have much time to even make friends. She’s always running around working too many jobs not to mention she used to be in college (she barely graduated-)

Have you guys seen Frills video that shows Wally being tired and stressed from his job? And their post explaining how all of them worked their butts off only to barely make enough for rent and food?

IMAGINE THAT BUT NOT HAVING ROOMMATES-

So she didn’t have time to make many friends and the people that do interact with her usually are just because she’s “a pretty little thing”

Eddie took notice of this. Eddie is the most observant after all. He felt sad and guilty about how lonely Millie seems. Even though she denies and try’s to not act like it.

So Eddie decided to start inviting Millie to join them when they hang out (probably against Wally’s wishes lol. At this time he would of been still cold and distant from her because he doesn’t know her true intentions. He’s super protective over his friends so when she did start to hang out with them he kept an eye on her just in case. Millie was no exception to his cold behavior lol) and eventually they did become her actual friends. And she loves them all dearly and would do anything to keep them happy, healthy, and safe. (I really do mean anything- she’ll murder for them fr)

Also! Millie hates being picked up. She only tolerates it when it comes to people she cares about or a bodyguard she trusts (like Max!) it makes her feel vulnerable and not in control of the situation. But she actually genuinely loves being held by Barnaby. When she gets home sick she’ll ask him to hold her and he does! He holds her in his arms and she takes a nap. When hugging or cuddling for too long she’ll fall asleep haha! So she keeps hugs short usually.

[jiafeick-merriproduct]

JUH-JUH-JUH-JACK MERRISLAY HCS 😍😜👑💅💖✨

(there will be a part for regular hcs, the part where I talk about his sister AKA my oc that i told ygs about in an earlier post, and a part for where there will be a tw)

Part 1:

- Jack's birthday is 7/27 (Zodiac Sign: Leo)

- His father taught him how to hunt (all Jack did was stand there and watch so that's why he hesitated to hunt the pig himself in Chapter 1)

- His mother taught him about soft skills such as teamwork, communcation, leadership, and problem-solving, which made Jack prideful and overall a strong leader (his father mae him aggressive 💀)

- Rich Christian household in the real??

- One of the smartest kids in the class besides Roger (and everyone actually praises himn for it because he always boasts about it)

- Became the leader of the choir ever since he was 9 (literally no one could overthrow him for YEARS, no matter how hard ppl tried they just couldn't get the position because Jack was just better like that ✨)

- Jack was the ASB president for one school year before the Island Incident™

- He was also the president of many clubs including drama club, key club (volunteer leadership thing idk), speech and debate club, fashion club (because he's snazzy like that), and the dance club

- He, Roger, and Maurice are BESTIES

- Jack and Ralph share classes, but they never really interacted with each other in a significant manner before the Island Incident™ (they just pass by each other and smile and wave but ngl Jack started to have feelings for Ralph??? a lil bit????)

Part 2:

- Jack has a younger sister named Lilac!!

- Lilac's birthday is 5/24 (Zodiac Sign: Gemini) and she's 8 years old!!! :D

- She borrows choir uniforms from Jack every year just because they look cool and she looks up to him a lot ^_^

- Lilac tends to be prideful, but she's wayyyyy less manipulative and problematic than her brother 💀

- Lilac shows her arrogance and pride the most for petty competitions (like games in P.E. and board games and stuff) but she would NEVER cheat!!

- She gets actually helpful survival tips from Jack (wholesome sibling bonding fr)

- Talks about her brother every day with other people, wants to be a choir gal and a huntress, and believes Jack could do no wrong whatsoever (if only she knew...)

- Might seem competitive and prideful at first, but deep down inside she's really insecure about meeting her brother's standards and she cares about her friends' wellbeing (she just wants to be strong like her big brother awww <3)

- Ppl talk smack about her mostly because they see her as a cheap copy of her brother (Lilac isn't aware of this)

Part 3 (tw: physical and verbal abuse, injuries)

- His father was physically and verbally abusive towards Jack, Lilac and his mother (who was scared to do anything).

- Jack had LITERAL bruises on his back so no one ever saw how his father beat him so damn often like wtf but unfortunately he saw this as normal since he grew up with this behavior.

- His parents fought frequently and Jack and Lilac only had each other for comfort. Jack was a little more emotionally insensitive and didn't know it was wrong while Lilac clearly saw that this was fxxked up.

- Sometimes the two siblings would sneak out in the middle of the night in a forest area somewhere just to take a long break from the yelling and hitting from their parents

Tysm for reading my headcanons ygsss y'all are real ones frrr ✨✨✨✨

[toxycodone]

My favorite Weezer album (also objectively the worst, DO NOT FUCKING LISTEN TO IT PLEASE /srs I will bite you with malicious intent) is the Pinkerton Album, it's misogynistic and pathetic and fetishistic, rivers cuomo made the rawest sounding incel music ever. The whole album is just rivers screaming and pouting about how horrible his life is because women don't love him, my favorite song by the foxing is also rory if that makes it any worse for you LMFAO

my top 3 Pinkerton songs are "I Just Threw Out The Love Of My Dreams", "Butterfly - Alternate Take", and a tie between "El Scorcho" and "Pink Triangle" because pink triangle is so funny to me, rivers is complaining about the girl he liked being a lesbian, get cucked loser. If u decide to listen to the album, only listen to IJTOTLOMD (acronym for the first song I mentioned, I'm not writing that shit out) and Pink Triangle, they are the least egregious out of the entire album, and IJTOTLOMD doesnt even have rivers singing ITS THE BEST SONG WITHOUT THE ACTUAL LEAD SINGER in it this shows you how bad Weezer is, I'm old Weezer's biggest fan and number one hater I will always make fun of weezer

ALSO OMG THANK U ?? u got me smiling and shit. lol I don't want to get into it but my last partner (online dating) pressured me into being xir dominant and guilt tripped me into doing sexual things for xem ... it just was a bad experience overall. And then bro had the gall to break up with me on my birthday after we were together for over a year and showed me xir new boyfriend the day after like...It was fucked. But I'm better now!! And Im not using the word loser in a demeaning way for myself, I'm like, Hmmm... I have that pathetic sopping wet dog rizz yk? Pathetic Loser ™ is my base state of being, my younger siblings bully me about it but its all in good fun I love them lol. (One of them admitted that I was actually cool so heeheehee)

But thank you I feel special, you have a grown man doing this -> ☺️👉🏼👈🏼 and kicking his feet and shit. I'll give you a little kiss on the cheek as a token of my thanks. Mwah 💋

- the same anon who is still scared of admitting who he is lol

okay you know those guys that like. Seethe because terrible men give bad bitches trust issues??? That’s me rn.

anon you have no fucking idea how mad this makes me 😭 like?? Be so so so fucking fr. YALL HAVE TO STOP FUMBLING BADDIES. GIVE THEM TO PEOPLE WHO DESERVE THEM (ME!!! I WILL CHERISH THEM!!!)

okay as someone who also got burned by online dating (long ass story. which I won’t tell unless asked). I’m genuinely so sorry that happened to you. People online can be such a fucking hit or miss (usually a miss). But your ex’s behavior makes me think your ex is jealous LOOOOL. No one flexes anything if they’re truly happy and content—trust.

I’m still doing this to your ex tho bc I’m petty.

AND YESSS YOU GET IT. Like. When I say loser I don’t mean that in a bad way. Like, more in a colloquial sense. Because really I like nerdy guys bc they’re people who are open and proud of their interests even tho they may seem weird. And they’re just honest about who they are and their abilities. It’s actually really brave. And I love that about them. So. Yeah.

ty for the cheek kiss tho hehe I am glad I was able to make u feel good.

[g0ttal0ve101]

🎶💯💤🎄😖🎮 for any of ur little shits :3

they are little shits………my little shits 🫶

TW: obsessive behavior, a lil suggestive, and implications of trauma.

🎶 - what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Sam: weezer/the front bottoms….like. mentally ill homosexuality shit. yes he listens to this shit 24/7….(he j like me fr.)

Evelyn: Beethoven? i mean what else do British people listen to? IM PLAYING-uhh probably shit like the cardigans/cults. and yes, she listens to music when cleaning :)

Thomas: Nirvana/Radiohead. yeah. it’s sickening. no, he doesn’t listen to music often unless it’s on in a party……

Lucian: he listens to literally anything. he doesn’t care. i mean like he doesnt really wanna listen to WAP or something but-yeah no he listens to whatever’s on the radio (he’s fucking weird.) and he doesn’t go out of his way to listen to music.

💯 - share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Sam:

1. ALWAYS wants to be riley’s type. so whenever she was dating jordan, HE WOULD DRESS LIKE JORDAN. if he saw riley spare a glance over at some girl, HE WOULD DRESS LIKE THAT GIRL THE VERY NEXT DAY. in other words he has no sense of style himself.

2. he didn’t ALWAYS have his stutter. it developed by the time he was six. also it’s genetic, not any sort of brain trauma or anything - his dad had a stutter when he was young too, but went to speech therapy and eventually fixed it.

3. speaking of which HE DOES HAVE A DAD YALL!!! HE’S ALWAYS OVERSEAS FOR WORK!! VEGA DADDY FOR THE WIN!! and no he’s not abusive or anything either lmao he’s just a busy man.

Evelyn:

1. yes she lived in the UK up until she was fourteen. she’s sixteen now. so she’s only been in the USA for about two years and she regrets coming.

2. she lives with her uncle alfie after the passing of her parents. he’s very distant and barely associates himself with her, but makes sure she’s well taken care of before she turns eighteen and gains all the money her parents left behind. so yeah he’s aight ig

3. she’s very good at horseback riding. (she took lessons from the time she was a kid.) however, she never puts any of that talent to use considering she HATES TOUCHING ANIMALS so yeah that ended quick.

Thomas:

1. had a prosthetic arm (left side) since the time he was nine. how did he lose the first arm? that’s a good question you should ask him!! sometimes it’s because of self harm and losing all circulation after trying to commit, other times it’s because he was kidnapped and the joker himself sawed it off. (he will never tell anyone)

2. he has his own band and plays at parties sometimes. the cooler thing is that david nixon is the drum player even though he despises thomas <3 but a deal’s a deal right? also it works out in the end for both of them bc thomas gets all the chics after singing and david gets all the dudes after playing.

3. a bit of common knowledge but - he has three siblings. an older brother, a younger sister, and a little brother. he hates them all equally. however, they aren’t actually full siblings. they’re all half. Adrian (their father) had babies with FOUR DIFFERENT WOMEN!! role model, am i right? also thomas hates every member of his family lmao.

Lucian:

1. LUCIAN WILLIAMS HAS A TYPE!!! fluffy hair, freckles, a grunge/gothic style, and FUCKED UP TEETH!!!!! GAAAAH!!! both his exes had fucked up teeth (aka sophia had braces and david was missing a lot of his), and now his current boyfriend does. (bitch is a shark.) like shit. he loves those fucked up teeth. <3

2. he has tons of scars. like. tons. and you might be thinking TRAUMA!!!!! bc yes. trauma. however, a lot of them are from him being a dumbass as a kid. he would climb the top of a tree and fall off it. he would swing on his neighbor’s tire swing and fall into a pile of hoarded trash with glass in it. he would try to pull a root out of the concrete stairs and slice his shins after he fell. he is clumsy.

3. it’s time fess up….he’s not a total skinny legend no mo. he works out and is actually PRETTY BUILT. he ain’t got no six pack or nothing but he has nice ass triceps tbh……..and that’s on having an axe as a go-to weapon <3

💤 - is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

Sam: pretty light sleeper. he’ll wake up whenever he hears footsteps, or when his curtains blow in the wind, or when the fridge turns on. he usually peeks under his eyelashes and then just goes back to sleep.

Evelyn: light sleeper. any little noise makes her sit up and check her surroundings, even if it’s just her furnace turning on. she’s still half asleep when this happens though, so she goes back to sleep pretty easily too.

Thomas: DEEP FUCKING SLEEPER LMAO. you think he cares if there’s a nuclear war outside his window? bro as long as it don’t make one side of his pillow hot…

Lucian: deep sleeper when it comes to noise, light sleeper when it comes to any movement in the room. if anyone touches him, he’s up. if anyone applies pressure to the mattress, he’s up. if any footsteps are in the room, he’s up. you get the point. he will jerk awake if he feels someone else is there with him. (trauma) it’s not so easy for him to lay back down either. depending on what happened, he usually stays up for the rest of night. (this improves if kai’s sleeping with him bc he feels safe.)

🎄 - what’s your oc’s favorite holiday?

Sam: HALLOWEEN! 🎃

Evelyn: EASTER! 🐣

Thomas: HALLOWEEN! 👻

Lucian: CHRISTMAS! 🎄

😖 - is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved?

Sam: not even a question lmao. INTROVERT. and he does NOT let people in easily. only if it’s a pretty young woman named riley morg-

Evelyn: honestly i’d say she’s an ambivert solely because she doesn’t care about being out in public. (she cares about the GERMS.) she doesn’t avoid talking to anyone but she doesn’t go out of her WAY to do it either.

Thomas: EXTROVERT? HELLO? HE’S THE LIFE OF THE PARTY. Thomas knows everyone and their mamas atp. he’s so extroverted that he would commit a crime in the middle of the street and no one would give a fuck because he’s Thomas Hall. and if someone has a problem with him, they’ll just be gone in like 2.0 seconds lmao.

Lucian: this might be a shocker but…introvert. yes lucian is definitely an introvert. he avoids crowds, he doesn’t like talking in front of people, and he definitely doesn’t like people acknowledging him. when he doesn’t know someone, he’s not all bubbles and flowers like he is usually - he’s on high alert. Lucian only shows his true colors around his friends!!

🎮 - what are your oc’s favorite hobbies?

Sam: Reading, mostly. His favorite genre is romance and horror so he can take notes lmao……….

Evelyn: idk what British people do to pass the time…..JK!!! Evelyn loves crocheting and sewing, and designs clothes for her gf a lot <3

Thomas: this man is so talented and yet his favorite hobby is having sex 💀-no but seriously. he can play piano, guitar, and drums. he can sing. he can draw photo realism. he can skateboard. etc. etc. etc. and yet he spends all his free time partying………

Lucian: everyone knows he loves gardening, but he also likes skating and coloring too. :33

[copperbadge]

I have a specific mental definition of hyperfixation under which I do not fall, but I'm beginning to realize that definition is inaccurately narrow //

What is your definition for it? (Totally understand that what you define is not indicative of much beyond your own thoughts on it, but I thought it was interesting as I just had a discussion with some friends on hyperfixations and it turns out we all have very different definitions for it!)

So, I'm just gonna put a warning right here for ableism, though I'm going to try to handle this as gracefully as possible. 

Let's start with the fact that I was raised with an autistic younger sibling in a time, the 80s and 90s, when autism was not well understood and often blamed on the parents -- my mother was accused of being an unloving "fridge mommy" and causing my brother's neurodivergence. She didn't buy into that knockout combo of ableism and misogyny, but those were the times. My brother was placed in special education quite young (later he was "mainstreamed") which certainly was overall helpful to him, but my childhood encounters with neurodivergence, both in his classmates and the way adults handled them, were not positive and could be quite frightening.

My understanding of autism and of the cultural ableism around it has expanded greatly, but there's no broad-band inoculation against being a dumb shit about things, and I still find lingering traces of my combative relationship to neurodivergence at times -- my view of hyperfixation being one of them.

Up until a very short time ago, probably not more than a couple of years, I was under the impression that hyperfixation was by definition detrimental -- that it was a collection of behaviors that were involuntary but also harmful to the person engaging in them, preventing people from getting or holding jobs and forming positive social relationships. If it wasn't harmful, it wasn't hyperfixation, in other words -- just bog-standard obsession, something most people have for one thing or another, to one degree or another.

To my mind, hyperfixation was an all-consuming top priority where you learned everything about whatever it was you were into, prioritized it above "healthy" behaviors like work and socialization, and involuntarily infodumped on anyone you encountered. Being fair to me, my brother's hyperfixations were deeply harmful not only to him but to his family and our social contacts, and that was the example that I had. Once my brother and I parted ways, I just really didn't think about it much.

I have a negative image of hyperfixation as someone intensely and obliviously monologuing at me at length about something I have no interest in and didn't ask about. When someone says hyperfixation, what I hear is still “narcissistic disinterest in other people”. Which is obviously incorrect, but that was my experience of it for my whole childhood. I've encountered it as an adult, too, but generally simply nodded through it, because I did have the understanding that it's often not voluntary. Because I don't talk about fandom outside of fandom, I don't infodump unless explicitly invited by someone I trust and often check in to make sure I'm not dominating the conversation if I do, and I generally stick to one aspect of an obsession (avoiding tie-in media, interviews, commentaries, etc) I never thought of what I did as hyperfixation. My hyperfixations were secret and stifled and thus not hyperfixations. 

But that betrays an incomplete view of hyperfixation (and more broadly, neurodivergence in general), a narrow view of it as something "autistic" rather than something that happens across neurodivergences, and an ableist understanding of "appropriate" behavior. Part of reconciling my identity with the concept of neurodivergence is acknowledging that behaviors I found angering and frightening in others as a child are behaviors that I have. I may express them differently but that doesn't mean I don't do them. Which is hard, because I lost friends due to my brother's behavior, back when we were kids. If I'm like him, am I going to lose my friends? Will people feel the same kind of incoherent rage at me that I felt at him when we were children, because all the attention was always on him? 

Which is ludicrious on the face of it. My anger with my brother is multifaceted and can’t be boiled down to simply “he infodumped at me and I wasn’t allowed to tell him to stop”. My friends are good people. If they suddenly stopped being friends because I have ADHD then they weren't friends to start with.  

But it's one of those things I'm wrestling with -- the idea that I have hyperfixations and that it's also okay that I do. 

[rogue-of-light]

in middleschool i was quite literally a mix of how meulin acts about fandom and how kankri acts about social issues, so you're deadass 100% right! i've never really thought about this concept before now, but you've opened a whole new world to play in just now. (gen) these bitches are fr all petty middleschoolers and we should acknowledge it more (hj) -KPA

YEAHHHH, converting more people to this

AND THEY ARE!!!!!

Using the earlier discussion of b! Eridan being the one to ruin magic for Cronus: older sibling and younger brother behavior

Like technically it would be uncle and nephew (or father and son) behavior but I make the rules here and it’s older brother younger brother behavior

[shiversdownyerspine]

6. Kittenish

It’s dangerous to go alone, take this. ;)

Over a period of a week or two, life wanders on at a languid pace with only a couple of notable interruptions. The kittens have settled in quite nicely, and their personalities have started to shine. Adoringly nicknamed Thing 1 and Thing 2, the two older brothers had given you such incredulous looks, with Oscar looking nearly offended to which you laughed and quickly explained these names are temporary until something else sticks. Well...hopefully. You added that last part as you disguised amusement with uncertainty, watching as mild horror returned to their faces.

Secretly you wanted to see if the thought of bestowing such unfitting names to the kittens would inspire the three men, but even if that proves unfruitful, you're confident you'll think of something. Strangely enough, or perhaps not so strange at all considering it's you, you're tempted to name them after pasta. Long skinny noodle cats that they will one day be, it kind of fits. Hmm.

A tiny body hurdling itself around the corner of your coffee table just to scramble under it interrupts your current train of thought; Thing 1 has proven to be a firecracker and adventurer extraordinaire, getting into anything and everything with no sign of fear or hesitation. Once he gets going, he'll be in crazy mode for a while, nothing can stop him. There is seemingly no end to his energy.

Thing 1's sibling comes scampering around the same corner after him. Thing 2 is fairly mellow, but has a hidden switch. He can go from perfectly calm to bouncing off the walls without much warning or reason, and then just as suddenly he's plopped down on the carpet like nothing even happened. He is more cautious as well, preferring to test the waters before gingerly wading out into the unknown.

Thing 2 inspects the tiny paws of his brother that bat this way and that under the table, just out of reach. Losing interest, or perhaps momentarily distracted, he decides now is the time to turn the side of your sofa into a torn mess. Up on his hind quarters and ready to shred, he looks you in the eye and...his bad behavior is thwarted when Oscar lifts him up in a single hand. Bringing the fuzzball to his face, he tuts quietly and delivers the miscreant to his scratching post. You lean down to wiggle your fingers in the carpet to lure out Thing 1, who will gladly be tempted with the chance to destroy.

Oscar has been really good with them, even getting up early in the mornings now and then to assist you with feeding and bathing and whatnot. The strangest thing happened around the time he started doing this; one morning after feeding the kittens and returning to the kitchen, you had set about to grab up one of your freshly baked Strawberry Turnovers. Otto and Oscar were preoccupied with their own breakfast, but offered you nods to wish you a good morning when you entered the kitchen. Still sleepy, instead of verbally responding you offered your own ever so serious good morning nod, earning amused sounds from the two men. Noting Axel's missing presence, you chalked it up to him starting his morning with a quick shower.

Wandering over to the steaming oatmeal cooling on the stove, you ladle a couple big dollops into your bowl before adding a splash of milk to cool it down. With you sufficiently distracted, Oscar slunk out of his chair to creep up to your back with mischievous intent. The whoosh of air that left his lungs as Otto lunged and yanked him back, practically slamming the younger back into his seat, was almost enough to shift your focus. But since sleep had unfortunately remained elusive to you, your alertness had been dealt a blow. 

So when you turned around to find Otto contentedly chewing a pastry and Oscar sprawled out strangely in his seat, you weren't quite sure what to make of it. You looked between the two before slowly taking your leave to enjoy your breakfast in the garden as usual. Otto started helping you with the kittens as well after that, you swear the man became your shadow whenever Oscar is around. It's a good coincidence though, as all three men have proven to be good company when they're not suspiciously questioning you. Although you must admit, with the new rules set into place and the three abiding by them, you're finding it easier and easier to open up to them.

As a matter of fact, a couple days earlier when Axel had asked you about previous work you had done before the Commission, you had found it almost effortless to answer. You had even added some technically unrelated information without thinking about it; after you left the orphanage, you had been provided for by your guardian, seeing as you were still too young to look for work. The omission of said guardian's name wasn't pushed, you reckoned it probably didn't matter all that much to the assassins. 

The small town near your home had a fairly expansive farmer's market, and after seeing all manner of items and foods displayed you had tinkered with the idea of on one day becoming a seller. A good amount of your time was spent planning it all out; your main products would have been baked and home-canned goods, as even from a young age you had such a sweet tooth. Although with your fondness for gardening, you wouldn't have been surprised if you had included flowers eventually. 

Realistically the threat of your ability being discovered complicated things quite a bit, so you had pondered if made-to-order goods would be a better option. Hopefully you wouldn't have been out in public too much if you chose this line of work, baking in private and delivering the goods to your customers. Maybe even having someone pick up and deliver them for you? You had kind of liked the idea of having your home be your own little bakery.

When Otto asked how long you'd been selling your baking for, you admitted it had only been for a short time. A couple of people who had seen you around town had actually commissioned you for some cakes and treats and had spread the word, but before you could really dive into the role, the Commission agent had approached you and your baking had been pushed to the side. 

You don't really regret it all that much. After the orphanage, you had developed the habit of visiting the animal shelters in town. Fearing a wayward bite might give you away, your visits had been understandably rare. You had been seriously considering fostering when the agent made you an offer.

Quietly, you ponder for a moment the negative aspects of being under the Commission's thumb; you had been given a half-assed set of rules that you were to follow, basic drivel except for annoying little details you can guess are related to your ability; you were not allowed to travel, any effort to spend a prolonged period of time outside the vicinity of your home had to be approved first. Initially you had scoffed at their feeble rules, after all, this was practically what you already did to keep your ability hidden. You had accepted long ago that you were destined to be a little hermit.

It was only after recently accepting their terms that, when you had trekked to civilization to stock up on some much needed items like food and animal care products for future tasks, you had truly felt the leash tugging at your neck. As the hours passed and you made your way from shop to shop and carefully perused their selection for your necessary items, you could not shake the feeling that you were being watched. And followed. 

Realizing that the 'prolonged period of time' was much shorter than you had discerned, you finished your shopping as quick as you could and headed home. You decided in the future to cut your trips short and only buy what was the utmost essential. The added risk of distraction caused by your mysterious stalker resulting in an accidental injury also served as incentive to make yourself scarce. Good grief though, it wouldn't have killed them to be a little more specific with the rules they set in place for you.

Thing 1's deceptively sharp claws and fangs prick your skin as he wraps around your ankle, snapping you back to the present. With a sharp, 'No!' and a clap of your hands, the offender releases you immediately and stares you down. Ears tucked back and tail lashing, the baby considers challenging your authority before the movement of his own tail distracts him and he decides the appendage is to suffer for his unsettlement. 

You chuckle, shaking your head as Thing 1 twists and twirls in an attempt to capture his own tail. Picking him up, you deposit him carefully on the couch in hope of luring the kitten to nap. Repetitive squeaking has you peering over your shoulder to find Thing 2 ambling away from the scratching post in favor of demanding the attention and affection of the eldest brother as Oscar watches on with a grin. The older man scowls, but you all know better.

He had been quite aloof in the beginning; when the babies had arrived and the men had visited them in your bathroom, Thing 1 had immediately tried to climb up Otto's pant leg. You had fiercely fought the urge to express just how adorable you found the situation, for the kitten's paws were absolutely itty bitty when compared to Otto's fingers as he carefully detached the tiny claws from the fabric. Thing 2 had remained shy for a while, watching quietly, only to decide to toddle up to Axel and investigate him. The little Siamese kitten had decided that this man was the most interesting thing. At all times.

The assassin hadn't really reacted, but a couple days later when you had brought the babies out to explore the living room you had caught him rubbing a finger against a tiny fuzzy cheek. The ticklish caress of a knuckle teasing under your chin brushed the surface of your mind but dissipated just as quickly before you could determine why your cheeks suddenly felt a little warm. You shook the thought from your mind. Given how another time you had caught out of the corner of your eye the man picking up Thing 2 to save him from Thing 1's rough housing, it was evident that someone has a soft spot.

Relaxing next to you on the sofa, Otto blinks in surprise when the tiny terror climbs onto his thigh to wobble out on to his knee and sit quietly. Surveying his kingdom, no doubt. Perhaps he’s looking for signs of the other cats stowed away in your bedroom to give them a needed break? You must admit, you’re rather happy to say you're no longer as concerned about your cats interacting with the babies. Pumpkin still prefers to keep her distance but Butternut adores them, to the point that she has taken it upon herself to clean and carry the babies around.

A couple hours earlier, Otto had been the one to catch her mothering them. He had pointed it out, reaching for you. The large warm palm that rested on the small of your back had given you the strangest feeling, like someone was flipping your stomach like a pancake in a skillet. 

With some difficulty you shoved it to the back of your mind and beamed at the man, commenting that you had hoped Butternut would be a good influence, but didn't think she'd adopt them outright. The warmth in your belly rippled when he smiled down at you, thumb sweeping back and forth so gently that you must have imagined it. You really need to get more sleep.

In the quiet of the evening, a brand new interruption to the usual routine occurred; you had been running a little late with dinner preparations as Thing 1 had decided to hide away, perhaps sensing that it was time to go back in their bathroom for the night. While you searched the living room and apologized that dinner might be a bit delayed, Axel had unconcernedly sauntered in to the kitchen, donned your colorful pawprint covered apron, and got to cooking. Delighted, you teased him not to burn down your kitchen, to which he responded that if anyone would be turning your home into kindling, it would be Oscar. Oscar's indignant shout tickled your funny bone something awful.

As you cleaned up after a lovely fish dinner, as a way to thank the eldest sibling and possibly encourage a repeat, the ‘shunk!’ of a tube in your cabinet nearly made you jump out of your skin. The Commission had finally gotten in touch with the Swedes, taking the initiative to explain the lack of missions and prolonged downtime. You listened intently as Axel read aloud.

It would seem there were changes on the horizon; as your home would be acting as their base of operations, this gave the Commission a chance in the future to implement a new experimental technology that would allow their agents to go to the time their target resided in without the use of a briefcase. Apparently the increasing misuse and destruction of the cases had sparked alarm and a new method was being looked into. 

Instead of a briefcase, a sort of 'rendezvous point' was to be accessed once your agents had gathered sufficient intel and were prepared to neutralize their target. Following any unforeseen developments or challenges presented by the mission, they would find the 'rendezvous point' to your home would still be accessible if they chose to regroup and rethink their strategy. 

That was it. Nothing more to satisfy your curiosity or appease your concerns; what exactly would allow these time jumps, what were the parameters, the restrictions? The chip that was imbedded in each and every one of the Commission's agents, did that have something to do with it? Certainly it would be a lot harder for a chip in one's body to be stolen or lost, possibly less costly as well compared to the briefcases? Did the infinite switchboard play a part? If an agent decided to go AWOL, would they even be able to access the 'rendezvous point' anymore or would they be cut off? You just didn't have enough information...

Shaking off the speculations, you look at the metaphorical glass as being half full. Some explanation is better than none, after all. Thoughtful, you mention that seeing how any mission or assignment is so sparsely worded, you're rather surprised the Commission would put in a little more effort to this message. Axel cocks his head, quietly considering. 

From what you understand, the three men living with you are some of their best assassins, so maybe that offered certain perks? Like extra sentences? That earns you some loosely amused squints and scoffs before Otto interjects, mentioning freedom and traveling, how the three are given a lot of leeway both on and off missions. They're free to do nearly anything they want, so long as it doesn't jeopardize the mission.

Dishes all collected in the dishwasher and cycle started, you grin cheekily, remarking, "Nearly anything? Goodness, how nice that must have been..at least..." 

Words trailing off, the brothers watch confused from their seats as you wander around the table, clearly intent on getting ready for bed as was customary. Pausing under the entryway, you finish your sentence.

"..until the Commission felt you all needed a slap on the wrist and a babysitter."

There was a moment of silence and utter shock, an absolute stillness before you broke it by earnestly wishing them all a goodnight.

As soon as the word left your lips, Hell was unleashed. The scandalization on their faces and the clamor of chairs scooting across the kitchen floor had you scurrying to the safety of your room with a bright bubbling laugh.

You should probably watch your back the next couple of days.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Like i have not read the comics nor have i read anything by neil gaiman but if i do say so myself, i think the first part was so detailed and well described it could have been an excerpt from the original text 💖 now allow me to quote and react to a bunch of parts of this fic

(Also-also I've been staring at this fic for so long now I don't even know if it makes sense anymore)

First of all, this!! HAHAHAHAH REAL

Felt been there done that

You bite your lip as you consider this, stories of human trafficking ploys and hitchhiking serial killers appearing at the forefront of your mind. It’s dangerous, and probably stupid, but something in you knows that this isn’t a scheme to kidnap you. Your eyes were on the road the entire time, and this being was literally dropped down right in front of your car. Grabbing your phone, throwing your hazards on, and unhooking the pepper spray from your keys, you cautiously open your car door and walk to the front of your car.

THIS IS ALSO SO REAL. My biggest fears rolled into one. I enjoyed the fact you wrote that in

The next thought that crosses Dream’s mind is that he shouldn’t be able to stretch any of his limbs, considering he’s meant to be curled up in a glass ball.

She begins to approach him, but the glower he sends her way is enough to stop her in her tracks. It does not matter that she was stating the obvious when she said what she did, referencing his physicality. He will not be told what he can and cannot do, where he is allowed to exist. Not anymore. “Do not come any closer, mortal.”

DAMN. 👹😔

“Okay, I won’t.” 

Me HAHAHA

He looks at her warily, but slowly takes the glass that is apparently designated for him. After over a century, he’s more than a little parched. Though he will not show any gratitude before it is earned, he is thankful that at least one of his needs is being met.

😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

Contrary to his belief, she looks at him in surprise. “Why?” When he nods, she shrugs. “I guess…because if I were naked and unconscious in the middle of the road on a rainy night, I’d want somebody to help me to relative safety.”

aWWWW but also kinda scary to do irl lol,,, like hell a stranger

She doesn’t stop rambling even as she returns and hands Morpheus another glass of water. Though, even if she were to stop long enough to take a breath, Morpheus doesn’t know what he would say. He’s so bewildered at this entire situation that the Prince of Stories himself is at a loss for words.

🤣🤣🤣🤣 me and dream fr. I like to think this scene is somehow comforting for him

Destiny himself must surely be breaking his stoic demeanor to laugh at his younger brother’s misfortunes.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭real sibling behavior

“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares,” she smiles after saying all of his titles, apparently finding it amusing to be in the presence of a king, “I’m Y/n.”

GIRL YOU DID NOT

You’re in the kitchen chopping vegetables for a soup, still working on building Morpheus up towards being able to eat actual meals, when he actually comes to you seeking companionship. He hovers at the edge of the kitchen, watching silently as you go through the familiar motions. Finally, he moves just a couple of steps closer, like a feral cat being enticed by food from a human who’s determined not to look at them. It’s not that far off from reality, you realize.

AS SOMEONE WHO HAS CATS I WANT TO SAY THIS IS VERY REAL ALSO i want him in my pocket

“Yes, have your laughs at my expense.”)

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 I WILL THANKS

“Throw me off a bridge, maybe? That’d surely get your sister to show up.”

AT FIRST I WAS LIKE thats funny if you do that to dream, then i realized she was talking about HERSELF 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀HAHAHAHAH SHE REALLY WENT THERE I MEAN SHE'S NOT WRONG

It’s here, on the floor of the library, that things majorly change between you. It’s here that Morpheus kisses you for the first time.

HUH

“Do you think that I am incapable of making my own decisions?”

Girl you did not just stop this man from kissing you you clown you absolute candlestick

You can feel Morpheus smile under your touch. “It is chivalrous of you to refuse me because you believe that you are taking advantage of me. However, I can assure you that you need not worry.”

IM SAYING

“Are you sure? What about, like, power dynamics?”

⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️WHAT POWER WHERE

“Y/n, I’m eons old. If anything, I have all of the power here based solely on that.” Oh, yeah. Before you can actually beat yourself up over the stupidity of that statement, he continues. “I can promise you that I have my wits about me, and there is nothing clouding my decision-making. I care for you, and I would very much like to continue kissing you.”

IMMMMM SAAYYYINNNGGGG THIS RAT THINK SHE DID SMTH OR WHATEVER ////:

(He’s also very happy to be sleeping in bed with you instead of on the couch.)

Same

In the dim light, Morpheus looks at you. “What is what like, beloved?”

eveRYONE CALM DOWN HE JUST CALLED HER BELOVED BE STILL MY BEATING HEART

“It does not make me sad to talk about it. Rather, I love the Dreaming so much that it overwhelms me sometimes. I am the Dreaming, you see. It is a part of me.”

“So it’s perfect, then.” You don’t mean to say that out loud, but the way that Morpheus looks away bashfully makes you glad that you did.

WHEN YOUR OTP SAILS

Her head falls against his shoulder, and he smiles down at her when he sees she’s fallen asleep. In moments like these, he wishes more than anything that he was connected to the Dreaming once more. What he wouldn’t give to be able slip into her mind and give her the sweetest dreams that she deserves. As he closes his eyes and leans his head against hers, he imagines that he can feel that link to his realm.

Morpheus takes great care not to wake her up when he moves her off of him to lay down on the couch. His fingers trace the slope of her nose, down to her lips and across her cheeks, mapping out her face. If this is to be the last time he sees her, he wants to remember everything about her. Knowing that he will have to depart without telling her where he is going or knowing if they will be together again grieves him. He has not felt pain of this kind since he helplessly watched Jessamy be murdered in front of him.

HO WHAT DONT DO IT DONT DO IT HES GOING TO DO IT ISNT HE HES JUST GOING TO LEAVE AND HE LEFT

When you lunge forward, it’s not to hug him, which is what you always expected you would do if you were to be reunited with him. Instead, you say, “I can’t believe you fucking left me!” and shove at his chest in anger, which, if the look on his face is anything to go off of, he hadn’t been expecting either. 

THATS RIGHT BEAT HIS ASS CHEW HIS HEAD OFF BREAK HIS NOSE I WANT BLOOD

“You couldn’t have left, I don’t know, a note or something? Just to let me know that you were going to disappear without a trace?”

RIGHHHHTTTTTTT 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 HE LIVED THAT LONG AND RETAINED 0 COMMON SENSE GILR

ANYWAY THIS WAS A TREAT I STAYED UP LATE AGAINST MYSELF AND IM SO EXCITED TO GO TO SLEEP NOW THAT IVE READ AND REBLOGGED THIS IM SO HUNGRY I CANT WAIT TO WAKE UP TOMORROW AND EAT BREAKFAST AND READ SOME MORE FICS THAT MAKE ME FEEL

Hopes, Dreams, and Everything In Between (Morpheus x Reader)

Summary: Just when Morpheus finally escapes capture at the hands of the Burgess lineage and begins to make his way back to his realm, his weak connection to his power disappears completely. Left stranded in a world with no knowledge of what has transpired for over a century, no powers, and no clothes, Dream of the Endless must let down his guard and place his trust in a human whose path he was quite literally dropped in the middle of.

Word count: 10.7k

A/N: So! Here we are, with what is arguably the longest oneshot I've ever written. @glitchmeharder had left a comment on a post I made, pointing out that they wanted more fics of Morpheus getting stuck in the Waking World and needing to live with Reader for a little bit.

My mind took this sentence and RAN with it. Like, I apologize in advance for how long this is. I'm pretty pleased with it though, especially for my first Morpheus fic. I hope you're pleased with it too.

(Also, the POV jumps back and forth between Morpheus and Reader, but it alternates every other section and is pretty clear which POV is which)

(Also-also I've been staring at this fic for so long now I don't even know if it makes sense anymore)

Let me know your thoughts! Likes are appreciated, comments, asks, and reblogs make my world go round! My inbox is always open for you guys :)

*This fic uses she/her pronouns and includes the use of Y/n*

Freedom.

After being held captive for 106 long, painful years, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, is on the precipice of securing his freedom. The younger Burgess’s lover had erased a small part of the runes encircling his glass cage with the wheel of the old man’s wheelchair, sending little more than a sorrowful glance back towards the prisoner. So this was how he would attempt to secure his safety, by breaking the circle of runes surrounding him. Barely a scuff, really, but it’s enough.

It’s enough for Morpheus to feel the faintest bit of his power return to him.

It’s enough that it’s all too easy for him to influence one of the security guards, waxing poetically about his upcoming beach vacation, to close his eyes for just a moment.

It’s enough for a dream to form, one of sun and sea and sand. Sand that Morpheus is able to gather a handful of, right in front of the horrified guard’s dreaming eyes.

The guard, lost in his dream nightmare, shoots at what he thinks is Morpheus. In the Waking World, he’s shooting at the orb that he’s meant to be diligently watching. A bullet hits, and a crack forms. Another, and another, and another, even as the other guard screams at her colleague to stop.

The glass explodes, and Morpheus fills his lungs with his first huff of fresh air in over a century. He can’t get lost in the joy that threatens to burst like a dam at finally seeing and feeling freedom. Not when he has a job to do, not when he has a kingdom to return home to.

He steps past the broken runes, now useless at keeping him trapped, and towards the two that are commanding him to stop where he is. He does as they ask, standing still in front of them. When the female orders him to open his closed fist, he is nice enough to listen to that command as well, lifting it to his mouth and blowing the sand in their faces.

A portal forms above him, and all Morpheus can think of is home. The Dreaming. He can feel it calling to him, a kingdom beckoning its ruler back. His power lifts him, and Morpheus welcomes the sensation of traveling through realms.

Then, just as quickly as he had his power, he loses it again.

Like a spelunker who’s just had their trusty rope give out on them, Dream finds himself free-falling with no way of stopping or controlling where he’s going. He tries desperately to clutch onto the tendrils of power that have abandoned him, but they refuse to obey.

He lands harshly on cold pavement, weak and disoriented with no idea of where he is. There’s a flash of blinding lights, the sound of rubber squealing, and then…

Darkness.

•••

It’s late at night, late enough that the few traffic lights that you pass are continuously blinking red and yellow. You hadn’t intended to be out so late, but catching up with friends at a restaurant had led to all of you losing track of time, talking and laughing and reminiscing until a manager politely informed your table that the restaurant had closed ten minutes prior.

Large tips had been left as apologies and your group hustled out of the door, leaving one another with hugs and goodbyes and promises to do this again, sooner than the months it had taken to get together in the first place. You got into your car, locking the doors immediately after, and you were happy.

Still, as you watched those you know and cherish depart with their significant others, you can’t help the pang of melancholy that taints an otherwise-wonderful evening. You’re at the age now where everybody that you know is in relationships, getting engaged and married and settling down and coupling up. You, however…are not. And you’re happy with being single, truly; the best company you can have is yourself. But knowing that you’re going to return home to your quiet apartment, where you’ll go to sleep in your empty bed and wake up to eat breakfast alone before repeating the monotonous cycle that is working a full time job and being an adult in general is making you just a little bitter.

You dwell on this as you drive the deserted roads home, even though you shouldn’t be. Shaking your head at your tendency to mope, you decide to do something about it and turn your radio up with the hopes that something good is playing on the random playlist that had begun when your phone automatically connected to the car’s sound system. Hell, maybe even something bad. Anything to get you out of this thought pattern that is quickly attempting to derail your mood.

“Now here I go again, I see the crystal vision

I keep my visions to myself

But it's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams, and

Have you any dreams you'd like to sell, dreams of loneliness?”

Ironic, considering you were just lamenting your own loneliness, but you’ll forgive Stevie Nicks for almost anything, so you let it slide. Tapping your thumbs on the steering wheel, you hum along to the song and stare out at the empty, rainy landscape ahead.

Empty, until it’s suddenly not.

You don’t look away from the road, you know that you don’t. But in the literal blink of an eye, a white figure appears right in front of your car. Slamming on the brakes with a scream, you watch as the figure collapses ahead of you. You don’t hit whatever it is, thankfully, and after lurching to a harsh stop, you peer through the windshield at what your headlights illuminate.

It’s a person, or at least you think it is. They’re pale, paler than any person you’ve seen before. They’re also stark naked, which, for a number of reasons, can’t be comfortable. Should you get out and help?

You bite your lip as you consider this, stories of human trafficking ploys and hitchhiking serial killers appearing at the forefront of your mind. It’s dangerous, and probably stupid, but something in you knows that this isn’t a scheme to kidnap you. Your eyes were on the road the entire time, and this being was literally dropped down right in front of your car. Grabbing your phone, throwing your hazards on, and unhooking the pepper spray from your keys, you cautiously open your car door and walk to the front of your car.

“Are you okay?” you ask, looking down at the man. 

He’s laying on his side, his face tucked into the crook of his arm. A mop of unruly, jet-black hair covers any other facial features that might have made him distinguishable to you. 

He doesn’t answer, and you swallow harshly. Oh God, is he dead? You thought you didn’t hit him, and your car doesn’t have any damage, but maybe you did.

Crouching down next to him, you take note of just how skinny he is when you lay a hand on his wrist to check his pulse (which is thankfully thrumming steadily beneath his near-translucent skin). No, not skinny. The man in front of you looks emaciated. What happened to him?, you wonder as you move your hand to his bony shoulder and begin to shake him.

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

This time, a muffled groan answers you. Okay, that’s better than before. At least he’s semi-conscious. Still, he doesn’t look well at all, and you should probably get him to a hospital to be checked out. When you voice this thought, you finally elicit a reaction from him. Long, ice-cold fingers grip your wrist weakly, and you stare at him in shock as he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What?” You lean down next to his covered face, trying to hear what he’s saying.

“No…” he mutters. “Please…no…hospital.”

He’s delirious, that much is obvious. Still, you find yourself mulling over his request. He really does need some sort of medical attention, but he managed to muster up enough strength to specifically tell you that he didn’t want to go to a hospital. As you think about it, you also start to come around to the “no hospital” idea. 

After all, what are you going to do? Show up at the hospital and dump a naked, starving man on their doorstep while claiming that you have no idea how he got like this? At best, the authorities would probably be called and you’d be questioned for kidnapping. No, it’s probably for the best to keep away from the hospital.

Logically, you know that you’re so stupid for even considering the idea that you’ve had. But really, what is this man going to be able to do to you? Even if he weren’t in and out of consciousness, he’s so frail that you could easily take him down were he to try and attack you. Against your better judgment, you decide what you’re going to do.

“I’ll be right back,” you assure the man, who you’re not even sure can hear you, before you stand up. “I think I have a blanket in the trunk of my car.”

A quick search through your mess of a trunk does reveal a blanket, hauled around at the insistence of your mother who preached needing an “emergency kit” in your car at all times. Now, you silently thank her as you grab it and hurry back to the man, though you definitely will not mention to her what the emergency kit was finally used for.

You haul him to a sitting position, his head falling back limply as you fix the blanket over his shoulders. “Do you think you can stand? I’ll get you to the car, I just need to get you on your feet.”

He makes a slight movement that looks like a nod, so you move his arm around your shoulder and wait until you feel his light grasp on your shirt before slowly bringing both of you to stand. Once you’re sure that you’re not going to drop him, you struggle with him towards your car. He’s lighter than most adult men, but considering he’s dead weight, it’s still tough to walk with him. You fumble with the handle of the car door, nearly throwing it open so that you only have to let go of him for a brief moment.

You cringe when he falls backwards onto the seats, landing harshly across them. It doesn’t seem to hurt him at all, the only sign that he even felt anything is a groan in the back of his throat. Whispering out a “sorry,” you cover his body with the blanket and make sure all of him is in the car before closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat.

Sighing heavily, you think about your life choices as you glance into the rearview mirror to look at the unconscious man in the back of your car. You’re really going to do this, aren’t you? Taking home a naked man that passed out on the road in front of your car so that you can hopefully wake him up and get him well enough to be on his way without killing you?

Yes, you are.

•••

The first thought that crosses Dream’s mind when consciousness finally returns to him is that his limbs ache. They really, truly ache. It’s not often that an Endless has lingering pains, but it does happen. He stretches his legs out in front of him, feeling his muscles twinge as he attempts to loosen them.

The next thought that crosses Dream’s mind is that he shouldn’t be able to stretch any of his limbs, considering he’s meant to be curled up in a glass ball.

His eyes snap open when he realizes this, and he’s bewildered to find that he’s not staring at guards looking at him disdainfully from the table they’re always perched at, nor is he looking at the wrought-iron bars separating the large, underground room from the staircase upstairs. No, instead, he’s looking up at what looks to be a ceiling fan, spinning lazily around and around.

The events of what happened before he ended up here (wherever “here” is) begin to come back to him in fragments. First the runes being erased, then securing the sand from the guard’s dream. The orb shattering, sand being blown, and beginning to make his way home. That’s where his memory becomes muddled.

There were lights, and a voice. He thinks he remembers the vague sensation of being moved, but he’s not too sure. Whatever happened, he ended up here…on a couch, under a number of blankets. Certainly not in the same basement that he had been in for over a century, with its familiar cold seeping through the very glass he found himself trapped in. No, this room is warm and inviting. Comforting, almost.

Wherever he is, it’s not in the Dreaming. More alarmingly still is that he can’t sense the Dreaming at all. After that small glimpse of his power that got him out of the Burgess basement, his power has completely abandoned him. A not-unusual feeling, considering he spent the last 106 years without it, but being “free” and powerless is not something that he’s used to.

He has had a lot of time to think about what his lack of power feels like. After a few decades, the best he could liken it to is missing a sense or losing a limb. It’s something functional, something that he should have, but that he doesn’t. Cruelly, he was granted a taste of what he should have for a mere second before fate or karma or the universe itself decided to play yet another cruel joke on him.

Dream slowly takes in his surroundings, his thoughts sluggish and confused. There’s a table next to the couch he’s laid on, a glass of water placed on it. A black screen sits on a stand across the room, and he stares at his reflection in it for a moment before the sound of humming draws his attention away.

A figure – the person humming, he assumes – comes through a doorway, eyes immediately meeting his own. Curiously, she smiles at him when she notices this. Dream’s muscles tense, on guard in the presence of an unknown being so soon after escaping Burgess. Has he escaped one prison, only to land in another?

“You’re awake!” she exclaims, as though she’s happy to see this. “How are you feeling?”

He ignores the human’s question. “This is not the Dreaming.”

“No, this is my apartment.”

“I must go.” Dream attempts to stand up, but finds that he struggles to just barely sit up. “I need to return to my realm.”

“You’re not going anywhere, look at you! You’re too weak to even move.”

She begins to approach him, but the glower he sends her way is enough to stop her in her tracks. It does not matter that she was stating the obvious when she said what she did, referencing his physicality. He will not be told what he can and cannot do, where he is allowed to exist. Not anymore. “Do not come any closer, mortal.”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

She puts her hands up in the air, presumably to show him that she means no harm. The move reminds him of what one might do in the presence of a frightened animal. In her mind, he is a frightened animal. 

“Have you drank any of that water? I don’t know where you were before I found you, but you look like you haven’t had anything to eat or drink in a while.”

He looks at her warily, but slowly takes the glass that is apparently designated for him. After over a century, he’s more than a little parched. Though he will not show any gratitude before it is earned, he is thankful that at least one of his needs is being met.

The woman waits patiently for him to make the next move, choosing to sit on a large chair near the couch and tap at a rectangle she holds in her hands. Morpheus appreciates not being watched as he greedily drains the water that he’s been offered. Only after he places the now-empty glass back on the table does she look up at him and wait for him to make the first move.

“How did I end up here?” Morpheus asks slowly.

“When I found you, you basically appeared in the middle of the road from out of nowhere. You were passed out, and you only really came around so that you could tell me not to take you to a hospital.” She nervously plays with her hands, which rest in her lap. “I wasn’t about to leave you out there, so I brought you here.”

“Why?”

It comes out harsher than he intended, but considering the only interaction he’s had for so long with other beings involved threats and pleas for immortality, riches, and power, he isn’t expecting much. In fact, Morpheus is preparing himself to listen to her list of demands before acting. Though he’s powerless right now and unable to manipulate her dreams the way that he did the guards at Fawney Rig, he still has millenia of experience to draw on when it comes to escaping a captor.

Contrary to his belief, she looks at him in surprise. “Why?” When he nods, she shrugs. “I guess…because if I were naked and unconscious in the middle of the road on a rainy night, I’d want somebody to help me to relative safety.”

Ah. It’s at this point that Dream realizes that he is, in fact, very much still naked. Though he’s hardly shy about his form, he is aware that most humans have a more puritanical point of view when it comes to the covering of bodies.

“Are you hungry? You look like you’ve been starved, so I’m guessing it’s been a while since you’ve had something to eat.” The woman stands and takes the glass off of the table, musing to herself as she walks to another room. “We’ll probably have to start you on something light so that you can get used to eating again. Maybe toast?”

She doesn’t stop rambling even as she returns and hands Morpheus another glass of water. Though, even if she were to stop long enough to take a breath, Morpheus doesn’t know what he would say. He’s so bewildered at this entire situation that the Prince of Stories himself is at a loss for words.

He’s been left completely powerless in the Waking World, and he would have to fend for himself were it not for this random human whose path he’s been literally dropped in the middle of. A human who, apparently, has no devious intentions towards him, though he finds it hard to believe that all humans aren’t evil and heartless like Roderick Burgess and those complicit in his captivity. He finds it especially hard to believe that the first human he comes across after the Burgess affair would be the exact opposite of those he’s been around for so long.

Destiny himself must surely be breaking his stoic demeanor to laugh at his younger brother’s misfortunes.

“Seriously, when was the last time you ate something?” After a moment of silence, Morpheus realizes she’s asking him a question.

His attention is brought back to the woman, who’s reclaimed her seat in the chair across the room. Lifting his chin, and with what he hopes is a voice befitting the ruler he once was, he says, “One hundred and six years ago.”

She laughs at what she assumes is a joke, until she realizes that the expression on his face doesn’t change. He can see this mortal begin to make the connections in her mind. His mention of his beloved realm, the fact that he called her “mortal” to begin with, the century plus of imprisonment. The Waking World is so quick to dismiss magic and the supernatural as “fairy tales;” if it is beyond their comprehension, then it therefore doesn’t exist.

Yet, even with what they believe to be sound logic, humans just know when they encounter something that they can’t quite explain. Morpheus has always seen it in the way that people back up when he or his siblings or any of the many other preternatural beings that wander this plane walk past. The fear in their eyes as something primal activates within them, something telling them that they are no longer the apex predator.

Even with his lack of powers, he still carries his innate abilities that are woven into his very being. He can hear the woman’s heart beat faster, see her pupils dilate in apprehension. She knows, even if she does not want to admit it.

Quietly, she asks, “Who are you? What are you?”

“I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

A long minute passes as she takes in the information he’s given her. She does not run away from him in fright (which has happened to him a couple of times), nor does she call for someone who will attempt to capture Morpheus and use his powers to their own advantage. Instead, she thinks over what she’s heard and nods.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares,” she smiles after saying all of his titles, apparently finding it amusing to be in the presence of a king, “I’m Y/n.”

Morpheus is not used to thanking others, especially mortals. However, this woman’s helpfulness seems to warrant that he learns how to do so, so he nods. “I thank you for offering me aid in my time of need, Y/n.”

“I’m going to get you some food.” He hardly opens his mouth to make a rebuttal before she’s pointing at him accusingly. “Don’t argue with me, you need food. Then after that, we’ll get you some clothes. Sound good?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s back through the door, presumably towards the kitchen. Though Morpheus is still wary of relying on anybody, let alone a human, he doesn’t exactly have a choice. Not when he’s this weak, and certainly not when he’s powerless. No, he has no choice but to place his trust in this strong-willed woman who was crazy enough to rescue a stranger in the rain.

Fates help him.

•••

So, the random, naked stranger you saved out of the middle of the road turns out to rule the collective unconscious of all of humanity. And he now lives on your couch for the time being (with clothes, thankfully; you had procured a shirt and a pair of sweatpants for him when he had finally agreed to let you help him), because he’s apparently lost the powers that connect him to said collective unconscious. No big deal.

You didn’t want to believe Morpheus at first. After all, just the mere idea of some being who is eons old and is, in his words, “the anthropomorphic personification of the concept of dreams” sounds insane. But the same sense that told you that it was safe to take him home tells you that he’s telling the truth. And as you get to know him more, you find that that sense was right.

From the way that he talks to the memories of empires long gone and the recollections of those great figures of history that he’s met and inspired, all of which he shares with you as the days go by and it becomes obvious that he can’t just ignore you and hope that you go away, you find it very easy to believe him. He hasn’t given you a reason to not believe him, and until he does, you’ll continue to trust what he tells you.

It’s at least a week before your new roommate is strong enough to move easily around your apartment, though he still looks half-starved. On his second day of staying at your apartment, you had offered to help him to the shower. After all, if you had been deprived of showering for 106 years, it would be one of the first things that you wanted to do. After thinking it over for a long couple of minutes, Morpheus had begrudgingly agreed. The moment he attempted to stand, he had been unable to support himself and had fallen to his knees. This left him no choice but to take your outstretched hand.

It was very obvious that the proud king felt humiliated at needing to use you to support most of his weight as you maneuvered him through your apartment and to the bathroom. You couldn’t exactly blame him, because you’re sure that it is humiliating, especially when you’re a being that’s normally more powerful than a literal god who has to rely on a mere human for help walking a few feet.

According to Morpheus, if he had his powers, he would have recovered at a much faster rate. Since he doesn’t, though, and he’s effectively human for the time being, he has to recover as a human would. When you come home from running a couple of errands one day to find him sitting up on the couch without needing to lean on anything for support, reading a book from your collection, you’re extremely glad to see that his “human” recovery is progressing nicely.

As time passes, though, you’ve found an odd companionship with him. He’s slowly become less wary of you, and you of he, which has allowed you both to trust the other and actually, dare you say it, form a tenuous friendship.

It seems like he’d been expecting you to basically tiptoe around him and ignore him throughout the duration of his stay with you. Considering you don’t want to wake up to a corpse on your couch because you abandoned him in his time of need, and because you’re a person with a conscience, you’ve done the exact opposite, much to his chagrin and bewilderment.

You’re in the kitchen chopping vegetables for a soup, still working on building Morpheus up towards being able to eat actual meals, when he actually comes to you seeking companionship. He hovers at the edge of the kitchen, watching silently as you go through the familiar motions. Finally, he moves just a couple of steps closer, like a feral cat being enticed by food from a human who’s determined not to look at them. It’s not that far off from reality, you realize.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Though it’s pretty damn obvious what you’re doing, you decide not to be sarcastic with him. “Making soup.”

He nods, leaning against the counter to watch. You feel a bit like you’re on a cooking show with the way that he’s viewing your actions so intently.

“What’s so interesting?” you ask after another moment of unwillingly being on Iron Chef.

“I suppose I’ve never really watched someone cook before.”

The knife pauses in midair, and you turn to look at him. “I’m sorry, what? You’ve been alive for as long as beings have had consciousness, but you’ve never watched someone cook?”

“It’s not often that I have to eat. If I choose to enjoy food, the palace staff typically prepares it for me.”

Oh yeah. It’s easy to forget that Morpheus literally has a castle when he’s standing in your kitchen with bedhead. You would make a joke about him being spoiled, but you suppose that if you were in his position, you also never would have taken the time to actually step inside a kitchen.

“Do you want to learn?”

“How to cook?” You nod. “Are you sure that you want to teach me?”

“I’m literally just going to have you cutting vegetables,” you say with a laugh. “It’s a pretty easy task, even for you, your highness.”

His lips just barely move upwards, and you stare at him, stunned. Did he just smile at you? You didn’t even know that he knew how to do that. You’re about to try and convince yourself that it was just a trick of the light when he says, “Being that I am a king, it’s ‘your majesty,’ not ‘your highness.’”

He did smile! And he made a joke! It’s such a small accomplishment, yet you can’t help but to feel immensely proud of yourself. Hiding your own pleased grin, you step back from the cutting board. “Okay your majesty, come over here so I can teach you to cut vegetables.”

Morpheus definitely isn’t going to be on any cooking shows of his own anytime soon. Actually, you don’t know that you’d even trust him to be in the kitchen by himself anytime soon. He nearly cuts off a finger a couple of times, and he struggles to figure out how to hold whatever he’s cutting so that it can actually be cut. The vegetables he’s been in charge of cutting are uneven, but you can see how proud he is of having completed this task himself. You’re proud of him too; though you can tease him for having never done something like cooking before, it must be hard to learn a new skill after so long.

After this, Morpheus becomes less of an unwilling house guest who’s only putting up with you because he physically can’t leave and more of a friend. It became inevitable that you would have to spend time together, since he’s living on your couch until he can figure out how to get back to the Dreaming, but it’s become actually enjoyable to be in his presence, and vice versa. Though he can still be cold, distant, and haughty, that’s to be expected. Your relationship has changed, and he’s changed.

It takes a couple of weeks, but Morpheus finally starts to feel well enough to re-enter the land of the living. At least, he’s well enough to insist that he can start researching how to regain his powers or go home. Naturally, you join him. Morpheus has long-since given up on asking you why you help him, finally realizing that this is just how you are. If he wanted to be left alone, he should have landed in front of the car of someone who didn’t care about his well-being.

You’re sitting in your local public library with him, one of your now-regular visits as you search through book after book to try and find answers. The both of you are tucked in a corner near a set of windows, enjoying the way that the sun warms your skin. Books from a variety of subjects are scattered all around you; religion and history, mythology and occult. Anything that could potentially give you an idea of how to help an Endless regain the powers that they were created with. Needless to say, there’s not a lot of material written on this topic.

Yet another book with no answers is tossed to the side in frustration, and you begin to just fire off random ideas off the top of your head. Most of them involve seeking the help of any magic contacts that Morpheus has here in the Waking World, which is made difficult by the fact that Morpheus has no way of contacting these beings. Both because of his lack of powers, as well as the fact that he’s not the most open person for one to make a contact with.

(“You? Not friendly? I’m shocked, truly,” you had said with obvious sarcasm coloring your tone. Morpheus simply sighed, turning the page of the book he’s reading harsher than needed.

“Yes, have your laughs at my expense.”)

It’s more than a little discouraging to have absolutely no answers, and you’re starting to get desperate. You tap your fingers against a book you’ve already looked through, hoping that maybe you’ll learn something through osmosis.

“You could…”

You pause, trying to think of a good idea. Your mind is racing as you turn from logical plans that could actually work to the illogical. After all, if you can’t find something that works, you’re at least going to have some fun. 

“Throw me off a bridge, maybe? That’d surely get your sister to show up.”

Morpheus only looks at you. “That is not funny, Y/n.”

“I didn’t say it was!”

“I know your sense of humor well enough by now to know that you find this suggestion of yours at least slightly amusing.”

Your lips twitch, because he’s right. The mental image of Morpheus chucking you off a bridge and then eagerly waiting for his sister, literal Death, to appear while you’re screaming and falling to your end does make you want to laugh. 

“Well, it’s the only idea I’ve got,” you say with a shrug.

“A terrible idea, truly.”

You roll your eyes jokingly and mutter, “Jerk.”

When you first met Morpheus, he would have taken your words and actions quite seriously and been offended at the perceived insults. Now, he simply rolls his eyes right back at you and smirks. Just one of the many things that have changed between you.

It’s here, on the floor of the library, that things majorly change between you. It’s here that Morpheus kisses you for the first time.

You had taken a solo walk around a few of the shelves under the guise of seeing if you had missed any research, but really you needed to get away from the corner of no answers before you started shredding books out of anger. It helped enough that you were able to return to the research with fresh eyes, and it seems like it’s paying off.

In a book about pagan rituals, you find the first promising information that you’ve seen in the last three library trips. You lay your hand on Morpheus’s shoulder to get his attention. “Wait, listen to this! This book talks about summoning the Fates.” 

You point down to the passage. 

“‘It is fitting to begin December with an offering to the Three Fates, the weavers of destiny. Put out three small cups of red wine, fruit and bread, along with three knives. This is a way of honoring the powers that will bring more provisions during the coming year. Have ready three candles, red, black and white.’ It’s not December, but I would think this could potentially be done year-round? We give them an offering, they recognize who it’s coming from, and they give us some answers. What do you think?”

When you look up at Morpheus, you find him already looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes. He’s told you that, when he has his powers, his eyes resemble two stars. With the way that they always twinkle when they catch the light just right, you’d argue that they already do. You smile at him, unable to stop the awkward giggle that escapes you as he continues to look at you with something you can’t quite name.

“What?”

His eyes look from your eyes to your lips and back again. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do, a mere moment before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

Morpheus is a really good kisser, which is to be expected since he’s been alive for longer than you can fathom. He kisses you softly and sweetly, and the butterflies that flutter in your stomach make you feel a bit like a teenager receiving her first kiss from a beau. You sigh against his lips, bringing a hand to his cheek while he places one of his on the back of your neck.

Then, it actually hits you what you’re doing. Though you don’t want to (like, you really don’t want to), you need to put a stop to this. What if the only reason he’s doing this is because he feels some sense of gratitude towards you for saving him in the first place? You can’t take advantage of him like that, even if he is a very attractive man that is currently kissing you.

“Wait.” You put a hand on his chest to put some space between you, though you still rest your forehead against his. “I don’t want you to kiss me just because I’m letting you crash on my couch.”

“Do you think that I am incapable of making my own decisions?”

“No, of course not! I just–I worry that you feel like you owe me, or something. You don’t.”

You can feel Morpheus smile under your touch. “It is chivalrous of you to refuse me because you believe that you are taking advantage of me. However, I can assure you that you need not worry.”

“Are you sure? What about, like, power dynamics?”

“Y/n, I’m eons old. If anything, I have all of the power here based solely on that.” Oh, yeah. Before you can actually beat yourself up over the stupidity of that statement, he continues. “I can promise you that I have my wits about me, and there is nothing clouding my decision-making. I care for you, and I would very much like to continue kissing you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to believe that this is actually happening.

He laughs lightly. “Now, may I kiss you again?”

You nod. “Yeah, you can definitely kiss me again.”

Morpheus is more than happy to reclaim your lips with his.

It would almost be embarrassing, how quickly you’ve fallen in love with Morpheus, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s fallen just as fast. You’ve lived blissfully in your own little corner of heaven with him for almost four months now. Though getting him home is still important to both of you, it’s also become less of a priority as you’ve fallen more in love with each other.

(He’s also very happy to be sleeping in bed with you instead of on the couch.)

Laying in bed with him one night, you’re transfixed with mapping out every inch of his skin that you can touch with your fingers and watching goosebumps form in their wake. You don’t think you’ll ever get over just how unreal Morpheus seems to be. You understand, of course, that this is due to the fact that he’s an Endless, that he is physically more than a human, and thus a human form can not truly contain all of him. But to be up close and personal to such a phenomenon really drives home just how ethereal he really is. You can easily see why he’s been mistaken as a god so many times throughout history.

“What’s it like?” you whisper to him, unwilling to fully break the tranquility you’re experiencing.

In the dim light, Morpheus looks at you. “What is what like, beloved?”

Your heart jumps at the pet name, so sweet and unexpected. Fighting to keep your wits about you, you ask, “Your kingdom. The Dreaming.”

“I don't even know where to begin when I tell you that it is the most wondrous place you will ever lay eyes upon.” He closes his eyes briefly and sighs wistfully. “It has been over a century since I have been home, and yet I can still see it as if I were merely there yesterday.”

“If it’s hard to talk about, you don’t have to.” You should have realized that asking him about the home he currently has no way of getting back to would make him upset.

“It does not make me sad to talk about it. Rather, I love the Dreaming so much that it overwhelms me sometimes. I am the Dreaming, you see. It is a part of me.”

“So it’s perfect, then.” You don’t mean to say that out loud, but the way that Morpheus looks away bashfully makes you glad that you did.

“That is what some believe, yes. It’s a vast plane, considering all the universe’s dreamers use it when they close their eyes at night. The area around the palace, my direct kingdom, is stunning. Imagine the most beautiful landscape you can. That beauty would pale in comparison to Fiddler’s Green, with its orchards and valleys and rivers and mountains.”

“Really?”

“Mm. My personal favorite is a small clearing ringed by trees that make it seem as though you’re completely blocked off from the rest of existence. There’s a waterfall there, too, and I believe you’d quite enjoy the mermaids.”

All of it sounds wonderful, but that last word has your mind sparking with excitement. “Mermaids? Like…actual mermaids?”

“Of course. Mermaids are creatures of dreams. And nightmares. They are subjects in my realm.”

“That’s amazing.” You pause for a moment. “Would I be able to meet them?”

“You will be able to do anything you wish when I finally get to bring you to my realm. Though, it may be difficult to get you out of the library once you’re there.”

“I should have assumed you’d have a library.”

“Yes, and it is my sanctuary in the Dreaming. The library holds every book that has ever been written, every book that will be written, and even books that have merely been ideas in the minds of authors. It is overseen by Lucienne, without whom I fear the library would fall into permanent disrepair.”

“That sounds wonderful.” You yawn, your eyes too heavy to keep open for much longer. Morpheus notices this and pulls you closer to him. “Tell me more about it. Then maybe I’ll get lucky and be able to catch a glimpse of it while I sleep.”

It’s merely wishful thinking, considering dreams since the night that Roderick Burgess trapped Morpheus in his basement have been nothing more than fragments of scenarios. But his voice is so deep and calming, and you can tell that it makes him happy to talk of his home. Maybe tonight will be the night that the Dreaming decides to welcome its king back home. And even if it doesn’t, you’ll enjoy falling asleep in your lover’s arms.

•••

When Morpheus first woke up after his captivity, alone and confused and without his powers, he thought that he would never be able to feel anything except anger. Anger at his situation, anger towards those that had captured them. And for a few days, anger was all that he felt. But slowly and surely, Y/n had managed to chip away at the anger that had threatened to harden around his heart. Though he was not looking for love, nor did he expect to ever deserve love again after everything he had done to ruin every relationship he had been in, he had found it with her. The anger became replaced with an incandescent happiness, happiness that threatened to swallow Morpheus whole if he allowed it.

And he was certainly tempted.

It’s been approximately four months since the night he was freed, but it certainly hadn’t felt that way. Where he had spent the past 106 years counting day after agonizing day, four months with his beloved seemed to pass in the blink of an eye; an impressive feat for an Endless. Morpheus has, dare he say it, enjoyed getting to be a human, learning more about humanity and all that he had missed. Though he still lamented the loss of something so integral to his very being as his powers, his realm, he was able to recognize the gift that he had been given in spending the last four months with Y/n.

He’s sitting with her on the couch where it seems as though everything began, reading yet another book in the hopes that he might find a way to regain his powers, while she watches a movie on the television about some sort of battle in space (yet another aspect of humanity that she enjoyed teaching him, modern technology and everything along with it). She had meant to show him this movie, claiming that it was one of her favorites and that she believed every being needed to see this. Of course, it took a total of five minutes before he found himself hopelessly lost among the plot and had turned to the book next to him.

She had pouted for a moment, more to try and make him feel bad than from actually being upset. He had simply smirked in her direction, kissing her forehead before laying his arm around her and drawing her closer to him. Yet another thing that he loves about her, among many things, is that he can just exist in companionable silence with her. It’s rare, at least in his experience, when one finds another where this is possible.

Her head falls against his shoulder, and he smiles down at her when he sees she’s fallen asleep. In moments like these, he wishes more than anything that he was connected to the Dreaming once more. What he wouldn’t give to be able slip into her mind and give her the sweetest dreams that she deserves. As he closes his eyes and leans his head against hers, he imagines that he can feel that link to his realm.

After a moment, Morpheus opens his eyes and jarringly realizes that he can feel it. Her dreams, and the Dreaming itself. After 106 long years, the Dreaming returns to him as naturally as if he had simply blinked. His power suddenly twining through his veins again, something which he had taken for granted nearly his entire existence, has tears pricking at his eyes. Oh, how he has missed this.

Morpheus can return home now to reclaim his mantle and rule the Dreaming once more. He should be thrilled about this. He is thrilled about it. Thrilled, until he looks at the sleeping woman leaning against him and realizes that a decision must be made, and soon.

His power has returned, yet it’s still incredibly weak. Weak from not using them so long, and weak due to his not having his tools–his sand, his helm, and his ruby. Thus, he cannot be at his full strength until he recovers them. Will his power disappear yet again if he waits too long? If he wakes her to relay the good news, to take a moment to say goodbye, will the Dreaming escape from him? If his power does leave again, will he ever have another chance such as this?

It’s something that he cannot risk. And yet, he finds himself unsure, even though he knows what he has to do. This woman, this mortal, has managed to ensnare his heart so completely that Morpheus considers potentially forsaking his kingdom just for the chance to properly part with her in the way that he wants to, in the way that she deserves.

Morpheus takes great care not to wake her up when he moves her off of him to lay down on the couch. His fingers trace the slope of her nose, down to her lips and across her cheeks, mapping out her face. If this is to be the last time he sees her, he wants to remember everything about her. Knowing that he will have to depart without telling her where he is going or knowing if they will be together again grieves him. He has not felt pain of this kind since he helplessly watched Jessamy be murdered in front of him.

He lingers when he kisses his beloved’s forehead, not sure when, or if, he will have the pleasure of seeing her again. If she’ll forgive him for what he has to do, how he has to leave her. He whispers this in her ear, a simple, “I love you. Forgive me.”

Then, he closes his eyes and feels that tug that has always connected him to the Dreaming. He envisions the sandy dunes outside of the Gates of Horn and Ivory, the way they melt into the rolling hills of Fiddler’s Green in the distance. He sees his castle and his library, Lucienne and Mervyn, Cain and Abel, the seas of dreams and nightmares. He places himself there, and when he opens his eyes to see Lucienne leaning over him, when he feels the sands of his realm against his back, he knows…

He’s home.

•••

Waking up on your couch that day with no sign of Morpheus anywhere had confirmed your worst fears. Just as suddenly as he had appeared in your life, he was now gone without a trace. And as the hours eventually turned into days without him, you had to come to terms with the fact that he was really, truly gone.

Life without Morpheus, after having had him as yours for a few glorious months, just felt dull. Literally, it felt as though your senses were dulled now. Colors weren’t as bright, songs weren’t as beautiful, things didn’t taste as good, flowers didn’t smell right, and things that were once soft now felt harsh against your skin. He was gone, and you were alone. Things were as they were before that fateful night when he landed in front of your car.

It’s not even that he left you. Rather, it’s how he left you. Never would you have expected him to just completely abandon you, with no note left behind or anything to explain where he had gone. You assumed he had gotten his powers back, which was wonderful, truly. After all, that was the end game, wasn’t it? But for him to just…leave, after everything you had been through and shared with each other, hurt worse than you could have imagined.

You became intimately familiar with the five stages of grief in those first few days after his departure, cycling through each stage until you would come back around to the beginning and do it all over again. It felt pathetic that you were this heartbroken, but how could you not be? Morpheus had held your heart in his very hands, only to discard it as if the gift you gave him, of your love, meant nothing. You couldn’t even mope for as long as you wanted to, because you just reminded yourself of fucking Bella Swan in New Moon, and god forbid you share any similarities with her.

Eventually, you settled on feeling angry. Angry at him, angry at the circumstances, angry at yourself, angry at the world. You’re so mad, but then you feel like you have no right to be mad, because he got what he wanted! He has his powers and his realm back, which was the only reason he was with you for as long as he was. You both knew that, and still…

You really wish that you could hate Morpheus.

He hadn’t even come to visit you in your dreams, which had really sealed the deal for how little you meant to him. If he had gotten his powers back and returned to his realm, surely he would have spoken to you while you were asleep to at least let you know that he was alright? But no, you didn’t even receive that from him. And so you were left without closure, which made getting over him really difficult.

Still, you try your best to get over him, even though you really don’t want to do so. Two months after Morpheus vanished without a trace, you’re finally returning the last library book from your research sessions with him. You felt silly, holding onto it for as long as you did, but it proved that he had been here, and that what you had experienced was real. It was a tangible link to him; it was your only tangible link to him. Unfortunately, the library has only let you renew the book so many times before needing it back, and today is that day.

You stand in front of the book deposit box in the library, holding onto the book and feeling the cover that you’ve mapped out time after time as you attempt to work up the courage to let go. Let go of both the book itself, as well as the hope that Morpheus will come back to you. It’s obvious that it’s not going to happen, and you’re doing nothing but hurting yourself by continuing to hold out hope that it will. You need to live your life again, even if it means letting go of the best thing to ever happen to you.

Somebody clears their voice behind you to draw you out of your inner monologue, and you realize that a line has started to form. Smiling sheepishly at the grandma waiting for her turn, you whisper “sorry” to her before taking a breath and finally dropping the book inside. The flap of the box closes with a finality that signifies that you aren’t getting that book back. Stepping away from the deposit box to allow the line to progress, you take a deep breath as the finality of the situation hits you.

That’s it. All that you’re left with from your four months with Morpheus now is memories. You were hoping that this would feel more freeing, that you’d feel a weight lifted off of your shoulders and go waltzing out of the library like the main character in a coming-of-age movie as the end credits played to signify that you were turning a corner in your life. Instead, you just feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach, a sickness that this is really it. Now, you have to figure out what to do next.

Even as you turn to leave, you can’t help but think of Morpheus. You glance into the corner of the library that you spent many days with him in, the corner of the library where he kissed you, and you just want to cry. You miss him. You really, truly miss him, and it seems like it’s going to take more than returning a library book to get over that.

You wish you had pictures that you could burn, like every other normal relationship.

As you exit the library, you find yourself making eye contact with the fucking crow sitting in the tree across the street that seems to follow you around now. You’re probably just paranoid, because you don’t even really like birds, but it feels like you see that giant black bird everywhere you go. At first, for a hopeful second, you had allowed yourself to believe that maybe it was a sign from Morpheus. But when you had quietly said hello to it and it just did crow things, you realized that you were being stupid. Of course a random bird isn’t going to be a messenger from the lover that had left you.

Because this is already a terrible day, it gets worse when you harshly knock against someone when you’re walking in the parking lot to find your car. You stumble backwards, nearly falling from the force of it. The only reason that you don’t fall is because the person who you’ve just inadvertently assaulted grabs onto your forearm to steady you.

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” you mumble, squinting against the sun.

“I believe I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

That voice. You know that voice. Could it really be, or have you just finally lost your mind and are imagining what you want to happen?

But then your vision clears, and you look at him, and no. It’s real. He stands in front of you two months after you last saw him, looking down at you like you’re the one that left him suddenly.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. There are so many things that you want to say to him. After all, how many times have you imagined this exact scenario and all of the things that you would say to him in said scenario? Now you’re here, with his hand around your arm, and all you can think to say is, “Morpheus?”

He looks better than he did even at his healthiest when staying with you, which goes to show just how drained he was without his powers. His lips are lifted just slightly, his version of a smile, and he looks good. His coat fits him perfectly, as though it were made just for him (it probably was). He’s dressed in all black, of course, from the coat down to the black boots he wears. You finally meet his eyes, and you gasp when, for a split second, you see the stars that make up his eyes before you blink and they’re back to the blue you’ve known.

“Hello, beloved,” Morpheus says. The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down your spine, a side effect of not hearing it every day like you used to.

You want to be mad at him. You are mad at him. He left you with no warning and disappeared from your life without a trace. He had left you so suddenly, in fact, that sometimes in the middle of the night when you were out of tears and hadn’t yet cried yourself to sleep, you wondered if you had simply imagined everything about him. Yet, seeing him again, all you want to do is fall into his arms and tell him how much you missed him. 

When you lunge forward, it’s not to hug him, which is what you always expected you would do if you were to be reunited with him. Instead, you say, “I can’t believe you fucking left me!” and shove at his chest in anger, which, if the look on his face is anything to go off of, he hadn’t been expecting either. 

The shove hardly moves him, but it fills you with satisfaction to be able to physically assert just how upset you are, so you shove and hit his chest again and again. Morpheus, to his credit, just stands there and takes it, hopefully because he knows he deserves it.

Even the patience of an Endless, however, is not endless. Morpheus grabs your wrists with one of his large hands and stops the physical manifestation of your rage in its tracks. You fight him for a moment longer, but eventually the hot tears building in your eyes spill over, and you look up to face him defiantly. If he’s going to make you cry, he’s going to have to see it.

“You couldn’t have left, I don’t know, a note or something? Just to let me know that you were going to disappear without a trace?”

Morpheus looks pained at this, and a sick part of you whispers ‘good, he deserves to feel bad.’ “When I realized that I could feel the Dreaming after you fell asleep that night, I was not sure if that would be my one and only chance to reclaim my throne. I had to make a choice, however difficult it was, to return to my realm through your dreams.”

“But you didn’t think to let me know that you were okay after you made it back?”

“You remember my tools? My helm, my sand, my ruby?” He waits for you to nod. “I had to retrieve those before I could return to you.”

“Don’t forget about the whole ‘dream vortex’ thing after that! Ugh, that was a mess.” You look up when another voice chimes in, only to find yourself looking at the crow that you had been mentally cursing minutes ago.

“Did–did that crow just talk?”

“Raven, and yes.” Said raven flutters down to land on Morpheus’s shoulder, who glances at his corvid companion like he’s a nuisance.

“This is Matthew, my emissary,” Morpheus introduces.

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you, Matthew.” You feel a bit stupid saying hello to a raven, but it’d be rude not to. “I’m Y/n.”

“I know!” Matthew says cheerfully.

“You may return to the Dreaming, Matthew. I no longer require your assistance.” You stifle a laugh at how obviously Morpheus wants his raven, who is apparently enjoying being a third wheel, to hit the road.

“Right, right, you don’t have to say another word. I’m off!” Matthew flies from Morpheus’s shoulder and presumably back to the Dreaming, though you’re not quite sure how the logistics of traveling between dimensions work.

Left alone now, Morpheus stares at you, and you he, for a long moment. He seems to be waiting for you to make the first move, to see if you’re going to react with anger again. Finally, you rip your hands from his grasp and throw your arms around him. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Though slowly, Morpheus returns your hug, pulling you to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin on your head. “I missed you as well. I have ached for you and your presence since the moment I had to leave. Believe me, if I could have taken you with me, I would have.”

You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of actually having Morpheus here and being in his arms. It’s all you’ve dreamed of, for lack of a better term, since he left, and it feels just as good as you imagined it would. You could stay like this forever, and you almost do…until a car honks at you and you remember that you’re standing in the middle of the parking lot.

Sheepishly, you wave at the car and mouth “sorry!” as you grab Morpheus’s hand and pull him towards the actual parked cars. The driver that you’ve now royally pissed off glares at you the entire time that they slowly drive past you, making you giggle nervously. When you look over and see the bewildered look on Morpheus’s face (you would love to know how he would have reacted had you been flipped off), your laughter increases.

Your laughter is cut off when Morpheus leans down and kisses you. Whether that be because he’s trying to get you to shut up or because he actually wanted to kiss you, you’re not sure. Either way, you enjoy finally getting to kiss Morpheus once more.

When you pull away, you look him in his piercing eyes and say, “I’m still mad at you, y’know.”

“You have the right to be so. However, if you are amenable to spending more time with me as I attempt to win back your affections, I would like to show you my kingdom.”

“You wanna take me to the Dreaming?” Morpheus nods, smirking at the way you try to act nonchalant and not excited. “...Can I meet the mermaids?”

This makes him chuckle, a rarity for him. “Yes, you can meet the mermaids.”

The excitement at this prospect wins out, and you grin. “Okay then. Woo me, your majesty.”

•••

Morpheus had feared the worst when he had decided that the Dreaming was rebuilt well enough to receive its (hopefully) future Queen. He worried that Y/n would have taken another lover, or that she would not love him at all anymore. A frequent criticism by his siblings is that he gives too much of himself to romantic relationships, and that very well may be true. But Morpheus knew for certain that, were Y/n to turn him down when he finally reappeared in her life (and he would not even blame her for doing so; not with the way that he left and remained away for so long), it would crush him in a way that no other rejection ever had.

He thinks it would hurt even worse than the Nada affair.

When he finally coaxed his beloved to smile in response to something that he said–a sight which he will never take for granted again–those fears were assuaged. When she agreed to accompany him to the Dreaming, Morpheus allowed himself to hope.

Hope. A word so simple, yet a word that carried so much within it that it could defeat Lucifer themself.

Hope blossoms within Morpheus as he holds out his arm for Y/n to grasp onto so that they can travel safely to the Dreaming, and it turns into a flame when she instead grabs onto the lapels of his jacket and allows him to wrap his arm around her waist.

[lowplainlowinthemorning]

I fr hate how the irresponsible mentally ill people I know absolutely refuse to understand how much their self harming behaviors have the ability to hurt others, like I know it’s not supposed to be abt ur sibling or whatever when ur intentionally hurting urself but with the mfs who I know could have better self control and just refuse to because that means putting effort into not being a manipulative piece of shit, u come from an abusive household where u have a younger sib/sibs who needs u & u would intentionally bring more misery into that space & then not even apologize or be cognizant of how that could affect somebody who already has nobody