Xlili-lyraterx - Oneirataxia

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

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I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists, the reality of everything.

- Virginia Woolf

A Wave Breaking #wave #waves #breaking #wavebreaking

𓅨 Just One Sip: Chapter Three

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

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

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

Word Count: ~10.1k

Previous | Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look tense,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was pure torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Date Published: 6/13/23

Last Edit: 6/13/23

Previous | Masterlist

Promises Six: The Patron

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Chapter warnings: language, violence, (temporary) character death A/N: You're all fucking fabulous. 💖Aiming for another update next week. Wish me luck.

Only two thrones waited in the main tent. The king’s servants rushed to move a third chair to a place of honor beside them, layering it in swaths of silk and velvet designed to hang over the canvas walls, like they could veil the differences in quality and size with a few curtains.

They needn’t have bothered.

Lord Morpheus refused to sit as his sibling lounged on their impromptu throne with the grace of a cat and a shark’s smile. Familial enmity crackled around the two like a storm, and Desire basked in the attention. The King of Meiren hovered, clearly aching to take his seat, but anxious should he disrespect the guest who would not.

Quite a tableau. If only the bard could paint.

She saw her patrons settled before she went to study the drama unfolding around the two Endless and the king who would dare consider himself an equal. Even the most delusional suitors kept their distance now. Alluring as Desire may be, they did not hem in the waves of power as their siblings did. The bard recognized the overwhelming presence of an Endless even when they tried to shutter the worst of the tidal crush when walking among mortals. She’d felt it with Death. She felt it with Dream. But Desire didn’t even pretend to care for the humans’ comfort.

Every scent was sweeter in their presence, every whisper of taste carried on the smoke of the outdoor cooking fires a draw to addiction. The company looked finer. Everyone murmured about the heat and struggled to meet each others’ gaze as they shifted in their tight clothes, fanning away glittering drops of sweat that drew the eye down, and down, and down to the curious places hidden from view by cloth and lace.

Plenty of mistakes would be made that evening. More than the usual wild carousing inspired by fantasies of bloodlust in the woods. She’d already advised her friends and supporters to avoid as much of the spectacle as possible. To keep a hair pin in their pocket to prick themselves and their loved ones back to good sense if needed. She pointed out the horse troughs and water buckets, and reasoned the king couldn’t complain if a few members of his court felt poorly and left before dark after such a long day.

She couldn’t follow them back, of course. Her curiosity forbid it, and she wanted to be near if a spark caught that might ignite the entire kingdom.

Desire made no effort to hide their conversation from the fragmented assembly. Most were too busy wrestling with their influence to take notice, but the bard knew Desire’s family, and – what was far more important – she knew herself and her desires too well to be so easily swayed.

“I heard you’d been offered a bride, and I simply couldn’t help myself.” Desire treated the seat more as a kind of low couch, spreading over the arms in a pose to draw the eye to their long limbs and fiery eyes. Their red lips looked bloodstained as they grinned. “And a mortal at that. What could have possessed you?”

The king stuttered to join in the conversation, his eyes so dilated even the bard could see the dark hollows swallowing his mind. “I-I offered, your… grace? A bargain for the King of Dream’s aid some years ago. He has not chosen, but there are still many days…”

“Hmmm.” Desire dismissed him effortlessly, not even bestowing a wave. Their eyes never turned to his face, and the king finally slumped into his seat, unseen and unheard by his betters. The bard had never seen him so cowed, and gods knew she’d put in the work.

“An offer only.” The Dream King’s hands flexed into fists. Although the bard had thought he couldn’t grow any paler, his knuckles looked deathly white against his pallid skin. “I have accepted no one, and no one in this host has so inspired my attention or affection.”

Somehow, Desire’s smile grew wider, and as they let their head fall back over the arm of their throne, they chuckled through their teeth. “I wonder, big brother. Really, I do. Ah, well.” They straightened, spinning with unnatural fluidity to properly face their kin. “At least I didn’t miss the hunt.”

The close air within the tent fostered the unnatural heat. It stuck to the roof of the bard’s mouth, and she licked her teeth to scrape it off her tongue. The warmth ached where it dripped into her chest, clenched and hungry for every good and wicked thing she could not or should not possess. Her dead mother’s hand to hold. A good cup of tea in a quiet place beside a trusted friend. Wind in her hair, songs in her throat, and someone –

She left the tent.

Out of sight, the waves of Desire’s power didn’t strike with such force, and the bard walked with her hands on her hips, taking deep breaths of fresh air to clear the scent of longing.

A breeze cut through the clearing where the king’s court set camp, and she imagined it cleaned the stench of foiled passions as it combed through her hair, that it brushed aside the bitter shards of unshaped dreams from her mind.

Sometimes she forgot how much harder intrigue and politics were to wash off than dust from the road. It worked into crevices and scars, surprising her with old filth every time she thought herself free of it.

Her time with the Endless would stain her, surely.

Her mother’s acquaintance with Death left more than a mere mark. If she wasn’t so proud of her own legacy and legend, she’d say it defined her. If she had any sense, she would’ve stayed with the dragon and sung him pretty songs until the Endless had fucked off back to the realm he governed. When Desire appeared, she should’ve turned her mare around, packed up her things at the castle, and left a note of apology. But she hadn’t. Couldn’t, honestly. She wanted to know. She wanted to see. She wanted to witness history – or add a few lines of her own.

Really, what was the worst that could happen? She had manners and a frustrating inability to die, so the chances of lasting consequences for her recklessness were slim.

Gradually, her hands slipped off her hips, and she felt she could breathe easily again. The world wore familiar shades, and no one’s power but her own threaded through her blood. Half finished stories and snarls of old songs half forgotten filled her head. The air tasted of dirt and smelled of sweat. All good and human things.

Strolling through the camp, she found an old fortune reader laying out her tools on a red blanket. The woman chose her spot well, a patch of shade that would only grow as the sun set, just beside the smaller tents where the noble families rested.

The bard nodded in passing, but a wizened hand seized her wrist, bringing her up short. Stumbling to a halt, she blinked down, bemused, but only a little surprised. The woman didn’t have many other customers passing at this hour, when most were resting or preparing for the hunt, and plenty of folk stopped the bard in the street.

All her cards, bones, and runes sat in tidy piles and dishes, untouched, but the reader glowered at the bard with a fortune on her lips.

“You have already caught your doom’s eye.”

Smiling, twisting her wrist in a vain attempt to thwart the old woman’s grasp, the bard said, “You must be mistaken, mother. I have no doom.”

Ridged nails sank into the bard’s palm as the fortune teller squeezed.

“Just because you are deathless does not make you fateless, girl.”

A presence too much like the ones she’d left in the king’s tent coursed like deep roots through the old woman’s words. They tapped unseen waters and sprouted a gravity beyond the woman’s ken. Her glare cut across realms, and the bard’s hair stood on end.

“You are become an ache that preys on the heart. A yearning made flesh. And your doom will tear you from the world if you continue this way in the Garden of Forking Paths. Heed my warning.”

A shadow cut across the sun, and the bard looked up, expecting a thunderhead. That sort of fortune ought to be followed by forked lightning and rolling thunder. But as the light returned and the shape passed through the sun’s glare, it roared, and the bard cursed, ripping away from the fortune teller even as the old woman released her grip.

“Fucking hells!”

She tore through the camp, running before she thought to move, knocking guards and bemused nobles out of her way as they stared up at the great, winged beast above. A dragon. A dragon had come to the king’s hunt.

And the bard knew just which idiot dragon it was, too.

She recognized his scaled bulk. His petulant, flaming rumble.

The absolute twat.

What did he think he was doing?

Time rushed against her, precious seconds slipping beneath the soles of her boots as she found her horse, fumbled on the bridle, and swung onto her back. By that time, knights and hunters had stirred themselves. The bard cantered between men-at-arms rushing to their mounts and young archers half-armed and eager.

She flew by the entrance to the king’s tent where the two Endless stood observing the chaos like it was so very far below them. Fair enough. But at the moment, the bard couldn’t care less. Kingdoms and fates be damned. Her patron was going to get himself killed. She barely felt their gazes wash over her, burning like molten gold, sharper than diamond stars. After a life of dragon’s fire and executioners’ blades, they did not make her tremble like a sensible mortal.

Out of the camp, into the woods, galloping along the path in the direction the dragon wheeled. A goodly field stood some distance away, and it was the nearest place her patron might land without risking his wings on the treetops. So she rode, aware the crash of arms and hooves behind her was growing.

She hadn’t stopped for a saddle. Her thighs clenched tight around her mare’s heaving ribs, every bit of energy and intent straining forward, trying to yank the distant break in the trees closer with sheer force of will. The woods pressed too dark and thick, and she couldn’t tell if the crush of noise in her head came from her heart or the dragon ahead.

The ride lasted half an age, but she cleared the tunnel of trees at last, and blinded by sun, she heard rather than saw the huntsfolk who’d gathered from where they kept the caged beasts and dogs. A dragon was much better quarry. As the glare faded, she wheeled her mare between the humans and the fiery beast. They stumbled, clutching weapons and glaring as she swung down, facing the thing they’d planned to capture.

Hands raised, seeking to draw his eye, she marched towards the dark gouges in the earth where her patron landed.

“Glistiven!”

He turned from the lancer he’d been snapping at, flaring his nostrils wide to smell as well as see her. The wind carried her scent across the field, and he lowered his head, creeping low to be on her level.

She hissed at the hunters as she passed, “He’ll burn you all if you scratch him. Your lives aren’t worth the coin the king will forget to pay you.”

A few, convinced, moved back into the trees. The rest at least backed away, cautious, ready to see if the beast would incinerate the bard before they pushed their luck.

Glistiven stood taller than an oak, and his wings could shade a whole village. He looked a fine prize with his glittering scales – and the gold trapped between them – but he’d not grown to such a size for his tame love of humanity.

He’d burned the bard to ash three times before his curiosity won over his bad temper.

A month of stories, songs, and negotiations convinced him that it may be easier to let the local villages sell him their sheep. It was easier than dealing with unwanted visits from every bounty hunter and monster slayer in the kingdom. Every year, she carried his order down from the mountain, and the farmers let the chosen sheep run wild into the dragon’s territory.

He ought to be in the mountain now.

“Why are you here?” she demanded, marching through the tall grass and struggling to look dignified. As if she didn’t have enough to worry over. Two Endless, a fool of a king, and families looking to her for protection she was wholly unqualified to promise. Just because she was old didn’t mean she was powerful. “You great, flaming… Why are you here?”

Though still many yards away, his great sigh sent ripples through her clothes. “You have not finished your story.”

Hells above and heavens below. The petulance in his voice. She noted the remaining huntsfolk shift even further away from the corner of her eye, disturbed by the voice like a landslide in a wildfire. Crackling, and rumbling, and doubtless inhuman. A voice they all felt rattle in their bones. It reminded them that though they be hunters, they might yet be hunted. Many of their kind fell to dragons’ appetites. This one may yet have them.

The bard dropped her hands, forcing her way through the swaying weeds. She’d give her patron a piece of her mind and sort out this mess. He ought to fly home, but if he didn’t, she could tell him where to hide, where to sleep away from the hunter’s hooks and the castle’s ballistas.

A sharp twang cut the words she went to speak from the air.

Pain struck. It pierced through and out, scattering thought and breaking breath. A strange weight sat in her flesh, and as her mouth fell open, desperate for air that would not come, her hands rose to find the wound, the hurt, and the thing that made it. An arrow tip sliced her fingers. A bolt from some great weapon meant to take down boar and the scaled wyverns that sometimes came this far north.

It had taken her heart out of her body. She could feel it with her bleeding fingertips, fluttering around the wooden shaft, half-pinned by broken ribs.

She fell. To her knees. To the grass. To the waiting arms of Death. Her blood pooled ruby over her hands, her body shuddering and jolting with the determination of a broken clock still trying to tick.

The ground shook with Glistiven’s rage, and the heat of his fire curled over her like a blanket as the last heat of waning life bubbled onto the grass.

Here you are again.

A gentle touch settled over the crown of her head. Cold, but soft. A familiar companion she hated to bother. The bard relaxed into the entity’s hold as she lost all sense and feeling, swaddled in the dark.

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