Sticky Notes (Bruce Wayne X GN!Reader)

Sticky Notes (Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader)

Hi I wrote this in 30 minutes bc I wanted to get the idea out before I forgot so I apologize if this is crappy in any way! I’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing so please bear with me <3

Also! I tried to portray B as accurately as possible so I apologize if he seems too OOC lol

Warnings: fluff, puns

Requested: Yes! When I replied to the ask I accidentally clicked ‘answer privately’ and I lost it so I tried my best based on what I remember from the request. If you want me to rewrite it please let me know!

It all started with a blue sticky note on the Batcomputer (as you affectionately named it).

‘Don’t forget to get some rest B <3 U need it.’

It had caught his eye when he went to sit down to document everything from the night. From the handwriting, Bruce knew it was you who had written it. 

You were also the only one who could call him B and get away with it.

Bruce found himself smiling as he picked it up and placed it on the desk. Once he had finished writing and analyzing everything, he placed the sticky note in his diary journal, not wanting to lose it. 

–

A few days later, he found another sticky note (this time yellow), on his bedroom door after a night of crime fighting.

‘You are doing amazing <3’

Bruce felt his face warm up at the note. The words on the small piece of paper seemed to make the weight on his shoulders disappear, and he slept more soundly that morning.

–

Sticky notes of various colors started appearing through the tower throughout the week, and Bruce collected them all like pokemon cards. He kept them with him at all times, not wanting to lose them.

‘Hey there, hot stuff’ (this was on his bathroom mirror, and he chuckled as he read it)

‘I love you like macaroni loves cheese!’ (this was left on a container of mac and cheese for waiting for him in the Batcave)

‘You take up so mushroom in my heart <3’ (With a drawing of a mushroom)

And his personal (not that he would admit it) favorite, written on a black sticky note in a silver sharpie: 

‘I am all a-bat you!’

–

“Thank you.”

You jumped before whirling around to see Bruce standing in the entrance of the study you were currently occupying. 

His blue eyes latched onto yours, affection and gratitude shining in them, something that he rarely showed.

“For what?” You asked, standing up and walking towards him.

He pulled out the notes.

“They were a nice surprise.” He explained, glancing at the notes before lifting his gaze to you.

“Oh! Yeah, you’re welcome. I wanted to do something nice for you.” You smiled shyly, looking down at the notes in his hand.

Bruce noticed you looking at the sticky note at the top. He let out a faint smile before leaning down and whispering in your ear:

“I am all a-bat you too.”

(If all these sticky notes ended up on a board in the Batcave for him to read before and after he went out, that was no one’s business but his own.)

-

Alfred bought him the board when he noticed that Bruce was sad because the sticky notes were starting to get wrinkled from being in his pockets for too long.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @a-little-disguised​ @myguiltypleasures21​

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I love that both of my sad sacks are in this series

The horror and the ruin - part 1

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, horror images, adult themes, reader discretion is advised Summary: The wheel of time is turning as the fates are weaving the fate of the world and the one who bound her life to the Dream of the Endless. The Witch has to stand against evil, Despair, and her own doubts. Can a mortal, truly bind their life to the one who never fades? Or will it all become just a dream? Word count: 7.9k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series Masterlist Part seventeen: Letting go

***

"Die you ugly son of a bitch!" Y/N shouted sinking the dagger blade into the ghoul's monstrous body. It choked on black rotten blood and coughed as she turned her face away at the last moment miraculously avoiding the splatter of rot on her face. "Finally!" she exclaimed in relief when the carcasses stopped moving, "What the fuck is going on this year!" she asked turning to face John. Golden runic circles manifested from his hand in the one smooth movement cutting off the head of the other ghoul.

"Why the fuck are you using knives and other weapons, love?" he asked reaching into his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes and handing it to Y/N "I don't understand! You could do the same with your power!"

"Well, I don't know! Daggers are more practical and faster. Plus silver works on most monsters," she replied wiping the blade on the couch bedspread and taking a cigarette from John.

"Silver is for monster huh?" he scoffed.

"John you know me, I've never been a fan of summoning projectiles from the palm of my hand, etc.! These are your arcana!"

"In that case, maybe it's time to start? I could train you," he offered.

"Wait wait, I must be dreaming! We're working together again which is a miracle in itself, and now you're offering to teach me!!!?" you laughed "It's Christmas baby!!! John Constantine offers to help!!!" you sneered sarcastically.

"Christmas it may be, but not this one," he ignored your taunts and kicked the motionless corpse, "Almost a month to Samhain, and this is the third case this week."

"Fourth," she corrected him, "don't forget the graveyard wraith from Monday," she reminded him of the case that started their work together this week. "Ugly fuck," she grimaced as she let out a puff of smoke and looked at the corpse, "I can't remember the last time I saw a Ghoul."

"It fucking stinks," he sneered looking closer at the body.

"They feed on the dead bodies, fucking obvious it stinks!"

"Remind me again why are we even dealing with bloody ghouls? You couldn't dump it on the Winchesters, they like to get their hands dirty."

"A case like any other, ghoul, ghost, demon, possession, one abomination! We have the power to do something about it, so why should we stand by passively!"

"A wraith, ghouls, and two possessions in one week is asking to get fucked," he snarled, "You know that running after every bloody abomination that crawled out of hell won't make you run away from your own thoughts," he looked at you meaningfully, "I know something about that."

"I do not run away from my thoughts at all. I work!" she replied exasperatedly.

"Mhm…." his face crooked in a grimace of doubt, "if you want to work then work with me on something bigger, not on sodden ghouls. You can leave the ghouls to the Winchesters."

"Stop picking on them and you'd better tell me if you think it's weird that this is the fourth case this week."

"Weird, maybe…" he commented pensively, "But everything lately is weirder than usual."

"You've something to tell me?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing…" he smiled cynically, "Where' s your boyfriend?" he emphasized the last word.

"Oh I knew you would start about him again!!!" she threw her hands in frustration into the air, "Imagine he has other responsibilities than killing ghouls with me!"

"Anything better than killing ghouls," he replied opening one of the windows and letting in the fresh air, "But you're right. Samhain is a few weeks away and we can't go a day without some case of demonic activity."

"I told you! But nooo, 'I think you're overreacting'," she comically mimicked John's British accent, "Something is completely wrong!" she circled the room they were in looking for symbols, traces, signs, anything that could provide some sort of clue.

"Okay fine, you were right, so be it! Since you came back from dreamland you are extremely positive, it's not like you!"

"Can't I be in a good mood?" she asked while wrestling with the crumbling dresser and glared at John angrily.

"Of course, you can," he came over and helped you move the dresser away from the wall, he looked ridiculous with a cigarette hanging by his lips, "and I'm sure it has nothing to do with the Lord of Dreams."

"Oh for fuck sake, drop it!" she raised her voice in frustration once again that day, "wasn't you the one who told me to dream a little!?"

"I sure was."

"So I did! What do you expect?" she turned to him with feigned anger, she couldn't really be angry with him, it was all just playful banter, "do you want juicy details?" she smiled coquettishly, "are we going to gossip like two girly girls? Oh Morpheus is so wonderful!" she danced in place turning on her heel, "Oh the way he kisses! Oh it makes me feel tingling in all the right places!" she grinned.

"Fuck no, please stop!" Constantine pretended he was getting sick, "just don't."

"Admit it, your stony cynical heart is glad to see me so happy," she smiled warmly at him, "Admit it! I know you are!"

Constantine just looked at her, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. It had been a long time since he had seen her so optimistic, full of energy, happy. After all that had happened recently, she seemed as if all her wounds had magically healed as if she had found the will and strength to live again. He watched her throughout the day. Even as she sank the dagger blade into the ghoul's body, she couldn't hide her beaming face and that dreamy look.

"Of course I'm happy," he replied, and a quiet laugh escaped him, "how could I not be happy. It's a nice change to see you so…. so alive."

Y/N just walked up to John and hugged him warmly, and he, to her surprise, reciprocated the hug. Hugging and other forms of physical affection were never something they did, it wasn't their style. What was their style was constant teasing and snarky comments. This time he hugged her tightly, tighter than a friend should. He knew something was hanging in the air, he could feel the energy changing around them, around her, and he worried about the near future. He couldn't tell her that. He couldn't take away the delight shining in her eyes. He wanted it to last, for as long as possible. For he knew that whatever happened, she could handle it. So they stood in silence amidst the traces of battle, in the stains of black blood, in the stench of decaying corpses, allowing themselves a moment of tenderness. Two occultists, two sources, drawn into a game they had no concept of. Drawn into a vortex of events they could not see. In a vortex of events that was so soon to change their lives forever.

"I have an exorcism to perform two towns over," John said pulling away from his friend, "How about another team-up? And after that we'll grab a bottle of whiskey at some dingy motel."

"Sounds like a plan!"

***

Morpheus had to admit to himself that each moment he was apart from her seemed to drag painfully. He tried to focus on his work, there was still so much to do, so much to rebuild. His thoughts, however, kept returning back to her. If he could, he would keep her in his Realm and forbid visits to the Waking World. "I can," he thought, yet he didn't want to. He didn't want to repeat the same mistakes he had made in the past. To him, she was freedom, she was fulfillment, she was the devotion she had given him willingly, "why should I enslave her now?" And although he knew what dangers awaited her in the Waking World, he could not, would not, enslave her just to protect her. Allowing her to make her own decisions, even though he was convinced he knew better, was a new experience for him. Another one she brought him.

"My lord," Lucienne brought him out of the reverie he had indulged in while creating more fragments of the Kingdom, "the servants have emptied the west wing in according to your order."

"Very well. Thank you, Lucienne," he replied in a stern tone.

"What would you like us to do about it?" she asked.

"Nothing. Chambers for Y/N will be created in the west wing. I will see to that myself," he replied, his face betraying no emotion.

"Do you expect her to stay here?" Lucienne tried not to let her surprise show in the tone of her voice.

"I expect her to live here, Lucienne," Morpheus sounded confident.

"What if she refuses?"

"I will have to respect her decision," he replied calmly, "But I trust that she will want to live with me."

Lucienne hid her surprised face in the large book she held in her hands. He had changed so much. In the past, he would not have even allowed the possibility that someone could refuse him. Yet now he stood before her creating an oasis of peace and serenity. The marble stone buildings, decorated in warm browns and grays, seemed to take on the colors of gold, brown, and green in the light of the setting sun. It was as if they absorbed the colors of the autumn trees and shrubs with which they intertwined. He placed the house deep in the valley, surrounded by two mountains, hidden from view in fields covered with heather. He decorated the higher slopes with firs and planted beeches and oaks in the valley. The southernmost of the two mountain streams formed a river flowing westward through the valley. Over the river ran a narrow stone bridge, a path, picturesque access to the house of peace. Surrounding the house were gardens and a terrace overlooking the river. They towered over the valley, mystical with their arches, balconies, arbors, intricately decorated with the most delicate engravings. As he moved his hand, the trees bent their crowns, giving the wind their leaves to dance between the myriad arches, falling through the windows into the chambers, sweeping the dust from the floors, raising them up, spreading shimmering magic.

"Rivendell, if my eyes don't deceive me, " Lucienne sighed with delight.

"I think I captured its beauty. This is exactly what it looked like in Tolkien's dreams, " Morpheus assessed his work.

"I think she will be delighted," Lucienne smiled at him.

"Am I that obvious Lucienne?" he looked at her questioningly.

"You have changed my lord," she replied softly, "but it is a change that is so welcome."

"I don't know if I have changed Lucienne," he closed his eyes checking if Y/N appeared in the Dreaming, "but I am trying. I'm willing to change."

***

On the way to the next town, you closed your eyes only for moments. A long car trip always made you drowsy if you weren't driving. You listened to The Cure playing from the speakers and drifted off only for a moment. You did not, however, find yourself in a Dreaming. You didn't find yourself back in the arms of Morpheus as you desired. Between the Dreaming and the Waking World, there was nothing, a void, an impassable In-Between. There was no end or beginning, no earth or sky, no light or sound. Just emptiness.

"Hello, my dear…"

"Come up daughter…."

"Don't be afraid sister…"

With a pounding heart, you turned toward the source of the voice. You saw three women, dressed in black, suspended in space, their dresses and hair blowing in a non-existent wind.

"At last we meet, Sister Witch," the youngest one spoke up, "You look good, you're blossoming."

"I know who you are…" you whispered and bowed your head, "Mother, Maiden, and the Crone…Triple Goddess, Moirai." your heart beat harder in fear of the imminent prophecy.

"Look at her, she thinks she's clever!" taunted Crone.

"She shows respect, she has a good heart," said Mother softly.

"Too good! They will devour it along with her soul!" Crone spoke up again and cold fear ran through your body.

"Devour it? Who will devour it?" you asked.

"We have come to warn you sister," Maiden spoke up in a soft voice, "not to answer your questions."

"You are treading on paths you should not tread," spoke up the Crone, "Your fate joins the fate of those who never fade."

"Beware, daughter. The King of Dreams is a proud ruler, proud and just," the Mother spoke this time, "You have intertwined your fate with his, and he with yours. Your paths will be shrouded in darkness."

"Beware sister, beware of your desires," the Maiden warned, "You will have to choose. Your choice may be his undoing."

"Beware of the light in the darkness…"

"She will come for you Sister Witch, and you will have to choose…"

"Darkness is where you belong."

"I don't understand…" you began in a trembling voice, but they had already disappeared.

*

"What don't you understand?" Constantine cast a concerned look in your direction, "Are you all right, love? You look pale."

"Yes," you answered quietly, "I must have drifted off for a moment," you rubbed your eyes, but the image of Crones did not want to disappear at all. You knew it wasn't a dream. You knew something was wrong. "Are we far yet?"

"We're almost there," he replied, "did you see him?"

You didn't answer. Staring at the warm setting sun, you repeated in your head the words "Beware of the light in the dark…Darkness is where you belong."

"Hey Y/N! You with me?" Constantine glanced at you again.

"Yes, sorry. No, I didn't see Morpheus," you replied hastily.

"How exactly does it work? Do you see him every time you fall asleep?" he asked, glancing first at you and then back at the road.

"Not every time, but yes, most nights when I fall asleep, I see him. And even if I don't see him, I still know he's watching over me."

"Doesn't that seem a little, I don't know, creepy to you?"

"Why?"

"You can't hide anything from him. Because he sees all your dreams and nightmares, you can't keep anything to yourself."

"I find it comforting," you replied, " I don't want to hide anything from him."

"Not even kinky spicy dreams?" he smirked.

"Why should I hide them from him? I would definitely prefer him to join in!" you smiled mischievously. "But come to think of it John, isn't that exactly what, deep down, each of us wants? Even you!" a scoffing interrupted your statement, "I know you, John! So spare me the snarky comments and admit I'm right. If you had the opportunity to be with someone who knows you whole, knows your every darkest secret, darkest desire, knows all your sorrows, all your joys, all your dreams, and accepts and loves you exactly as you are, wouldn't you want that? Of course, you would want that! Every one of us, deep down, wants someone from whom we won't have to pretend, someone from whom we won't have to put on a mask."

He didn't answer anything, but the look on his face said it all. Of course, he wanted this. Who wouldn't want that! Who wouldn't want to be loved exactly as they were? Everyone wanted someone who would love their dark side as much as their bright side. The truth was that even the noblest, had darkness in them, and the brighter their nobility shone, the more darkness crept into their souls. Because the world was a cruel place, ruthless and brutal, trying at every turn to kill the light, stifle it and suppress it. And the struggle for that ounce of nobility was often brutal and strewn with blood, pain, and suffering. Both you and John knew this. He couldn't deny you, but you knew him well, he wouldn't admit you were right either.

"Enough of these philosophical lectures for one evening," John reached for the radio and turned the volume up, letting the sounds of Little Dark Age by MGMT drown out any words you would have spoken, "we have work to do."

***

As she climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, Y/N was beginning to regret her bad habits again. The air reeked of mustiness and dust, and her lungs filled with cigarette smoke refused to cooperate. From one floor to the next, the smell worsened, turning into a distinct odor of sulfur and decay.

"How long has the girl been possessed you said?" She asked her friend breathing heavily.

"I didn't," he replied, "more than two years."

"Fucking hell…" she uttered, "poor girl."

Constantine lit another cigarette and Y/N knew full well that the cigarette would not burn out before the exorcism was over. It was his little ritual, to light a cigarette just before a job, put it aside, and finish it when he was done. If the cigarette managed to burn out in the meantime, it meant he hadn't done a good enough job.

He did not knock on the apartment door, from which a nauseating smell emanated. He opened the door and entered without a word, and she followed. To the people gathered in the cramped apartment, they looked menacing, so frightening. She saw them fleeing with their eyes as they huddled against the wall, clutching crosses and rosaries in their hands. It was not about their physical appearance. For they looked normal. John was wearing his usual coat and white shirt, his black tie hung loosely around his neck. One could think he was a banker or a salesman off work. She, on the other hand, was dressed as usual in slim black jeans, a black tank top, and a black leather jacket, in no way resembling the powerful witch she was, or the exorcist she was planning to be in a moment. "The whole family is here," she thought, sweeping her eyes over their terrified faces. She wanted to smile, to give them encouragement; after all, they had come here to help them. However, at the sight of the girl tied to the bed, the thought of smiling disappeared completely. Her arms and legs were tied to the bed frame, but despite this, her body was twisting convulsively trying to free itself. She groaned, wailed, hissed, and growled as John tore the curtain from the window exposing her to the light of the setting sun. Y/N could see each of her bulging blue veins marking her entire body, her greasy hair stuck to her face, the remnants of feces on the once white sheet. The demon grunted trying to break free, trying to reach John, she bent her body to all sides as John lifted a bundle of metal symbols to the sun and began to turn them looking for the right one. A demonic sound ripped from her throat as the sun's rays passed through the right one. She threw her head back, trying to get away from it, and Y/N could see her averted, bloody whites without pupils. She realized that it had been years since she had seen such a state of possession. She took two steps forward wanting to begin work, but John threw her a look that said "Stay where you are and let me work," then he set the cigarette down on the edge of the dresser and jumped up on the bed.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me," Y/N hissed quietly, "you brought me here to babysit civilians?"

John only smirked then knelt on the bed and began the ritual. He whispered something in the girl's ear, and the demon, as if sensing his power, moved its head away, trying to get away from him. This, however, lasted only a brief moment. The demon looked at him as if to threaten him, and began to speak in an unfamiliar language, hissing words, snorting throatily, and to Y/N's surprise, John seemed to understand.

"Yeah, you do that," he croaked and grabbed the girl's head to press the amulet against her forehead. Smoke and sizzle escaped from her body in an instant, and a throaty cry of pain tore through the room. The demon screamed in pain, sending the girl's body into convulsions, bending her arms and legs into an unnatural position.

The women next to Y/N, who in her estimation must have been her mother and grandmother, screamed in fear and clutched the rosaries they held in their hands tighter. Despite the terror painted on her face, her mother took two nervous steps forward, as if to stop the ritual.

"No," Y/N stopped her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing the woman to look at her, "Don't you dare interrupt him."

"But she's my daughter, my only daughter," the woman wept hysterically, and tears flowed from her eyes, "He's hurting her!"

"He's trying to help her," she replied firmly, and the demon wailed shrilly again, with the stench of sulfur bringing Y/N memories of hell, "It's the demon who is hurting her."

The woman tried to break free, but Y/N held her tight as John whispered the words of the spell. The demon wriggled spasmodically, the girl's legs twitched at an unnatural pace, her whole body convulsing in spasm, but John pressed her firmly against the bed, holding her head in a strong grip, protecting her innocent body from harm. Smoke rose from her forehead, her body sizzled filling the room with a nauseating smell of the burning flesh. Images of hell flashed before Y/N's eyes again, and she instinctively grabbed the vial of sand tucked under her shirt in an attempt to ward them off.

*

Morpheus saw through her eyes the image of a writhing possessed human body, smelled the stench of burnt flesh, tasted the rot in his own mouth, felt the pounding heart in his own chest, the uneven breathing in his own lungs. He saw terrified human faces, heard the scream of the beast ripping from the throat of the human girl, saw John Constantine leaning over the girl's motionless body as if listening to her breathing. An expression of surprise was painted on his face. Morpheus saw the world through Y/N's eyes, and pain tore at his soul.

"I'm always beside you…" he said in his mind, while the image disappeared.

*

"John…. I do not think it worked…" Y/N let go of the mother, who slumped to the floor in terror and huddled against the wall.

"What the hell…" John whispered confused, but before he had time to react the shape of a demon rose from under the surface of the girl's skin and attacked him. For a split second, Y/N's heart froze in her chest, but John reacted instantly. In one strong swing, he punched the demon and the girl's body fell back onto the bed.

"Did you just hit it?" she asked with inappropriate amusement in her voice.

"And what the fuck was I supposed to do!" he snarled, "Fuck! I need a mirror," he looked at those gathered, "Now!!! At least three meters tall!" he called out after the men rushing out of the apartment.

"Why do you need a mirror?" Y/N asked but John instead of answering grabbed a chair with which he shattered the glass in the window and began to move the bed towards it, "John!? What the fuck are you doing?!

“Fucker is still in her,” John explained as he ripped cables from a wall, “We’re gonna trap it in the mirror.”

“There are at least a dozen other ways to lure the demon out, better than trapping it in a mirror."

"I thought I was clear, stay away from it," the men came running from the corridor carrying a large mirror in fours, which at John's command they strapped with cables and lifted above John's head. "Close your eyes and whatever happens don't look," John instructed after which he placed his hand on the girl's forehead and, pressing all his weight against her body, began to recite the words of the incantation. The demon hissed, growled choking under his pressure, twitched trying to break free, groaned monstrously trying to fight him. He almost had it, Y/N could see its faint shadow slowly seeping into the mirror when suddenly one of the men drawn by curiosity opened his eyes. In an instant, his black beard and hair turned white, and in horror, he let go of the mirror he was helping to lift and moved away from the bed falling to the floor. The mirror fell down. John tried to hold it up, with one hand still restraining the demon. The spell weakened. The demon broke free, grabbed John by the throat, and, growling throatily, began to choke him.

"Screw the mirror!" Y/N ran up to John and placed both hands on the girl's face and began to speak the words of her exorcism.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica….

"Show yourself you ugly son of a bitch," John breathed out as the demon weakened and let go of his throat.

Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te…. cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare….

Y/N felt the air move around her and saw tiny sparks of light leaping from her fingers to the girl's face. John saw them too.

Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanae salutis….

The demon hissed throatily and John felt his strength give way under the strain of their combined power.

Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine…. quem inferi tremunt…

"Smile, you prick," John growled.

Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.

And the demon smiled. In the mirror, Y/N could see its true form. An emaciated bony body, covered with gray burnt skin with only half a head and a black hole filled with blackened rot.

"He is with us Witch," the demon looked at Y/N and half his head moved as if curious, "He is with us in hell, and his body sizzles day and night torn apart with hooks, hung on racks, stabbed, ripped, burned, torn apart, reassembled and torn apart again. Do you know how beautifully a new soul tears apart?"

"Go fuck yourself," Y/N growled furiously.

"And how he laments, how he cries, how he wails," the demon continued, "Do you know that he didn't want to die? He repeats it over and over again as we tear him apart and feed on his blood and flesh."

"She told you to go fuck yourself," Constantine looked at the demon, "for your boss," he added and put out his middle finger.

Y/N extended her hand in front of her and, without waiting for the men to pull the mirror outside, she reached for her power and, pushing the mirror away from her, sent it, along with the frame, through the window. She saw the mirror break as the demon tried to get out, but it was too late. The mirror fell to the sidewalk shattering into millions of pieces.

The blackness disappeared from the girl's face, the veins took on normal color and the pupils returned to their place as she opened her eyes with a deep breath. Terrified, confused, she began to struggle, crying, calling her mother.

"Hush," Y/N climbed onto the bed and began to calm her, stroking her sweaty face, "Calm down, come on, hush now, I'll help you," she repeated, untying her hands, "You're safe now. The nightmare is over," she assured as the girl rose and crying desperately hugged to her, suppressing the panting cry in her chest, "You are safe. You're safe…" she repeated stroking her hair, "Nothing will harm you…" she assured, but her voice trapped in her throat.

In the corner of the room, she saw a woman. Not a mother, not a grandmother, not a daughter. The woman hunched against the wall looking at her with sad absent eyes, looking straight through her as the hook that was stuck on her finger marked her face with bloody wounds. Y/N knew she was looking at Despair.

***

John slept a deep sleep, but you couldn't. Although your body was tired and exhausted after a long day of work your mind was awake. The few glasses of whiskey you drank with John did not lull you to sleep as you had hoped, did not allow your thoughts to quiet down and let your consciousness drift off into Dreaming. Staring at the ceiling, you couldn't stop thinking. First Desire, then the Three, and finally Despair, the reality seemed to be slipping away from you. You tried to recall Morpheus' words about the natural state of symbiosis that existed between humans and the Endless, but your reason and intuition kept whispering quietly the words of doubt, making you so aware that there was nothing natural about it.

You tried in every way to explain the sudden appearance of Endless in your life. People, even the ones who were mystically gifted, had never encountered anything bigger than a Demon or, in an even worse case, an Angel in their entire lives. Constantine was the only exception you knew, but even he was unable to see what it was you saw. You asked him, Despair was visible only to your eyes. "Why?" you once again asked yourself the same question. It had been months since you had first wandered unintentionally into the Dreaming, since Morpheus had first appeared in your life, and you had somewhat resigned yourself to the fact that the source of your abilities would remain unknown. "Why dwell on it when through them I have got to know him," you explained to yourself. And yet, lying on an uncomfortable hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn't accept that his sibling had appeared in your life with the same ease. "Did I set in motion a chain of events by bonding myself with the Dream? Did I open myself to others by giving myself to him?" you fiddled with the amulet with your fingers, "Should I tell him about it?" you wondered, but something kept you from following this thought. Whether it was Crones' warning or your own intuition, you didn't know, but you knew something was keeping you from telling him. "There is so much I don't know about him…" you realized. You had to admit to yourself that you didn't know how he would react, you didn't know what chain of events it would set in motion. You assumed, based on the story of his capture and imprisonment, that he didn't have a good relationship with his siblings, in fact, no one had come to his aid for over a hundred years. "How complicated must have been the relationships of beings who have existed since the creation of time." The Dream was to you what he wanted to be, he offered you everything he wanted to offer you, and only your imagination told you how much you didn't yet know about him. Because can you really know someone who has been around forever? "Can I trust that Dream will even let me get to know him as he is, and not some version of him that he created especially for me?" you asked, and sadness slowly crept into your heart.

You didn't want to think about it, you wanted to love and be loved, you wanted to give yourself to Dream and let him sweep you away, take you away from this pit of despair you called life. You wanted him to hide you in the Dreaming, to hide you from pain, suffering and constant struggle, you wanted to lose yourself in the Dream, you wanted to disappear with him in some small corner of his Realm, where night and day you could make love hidden from the world. However, despite your desires, you knew that life, even Endless' life was more complicated. You had to admit to yourself that you weren't sure you would have agreed to stay in the Dreaming forever if he had proposed. You loved him, but you had your responsibilities, your task to fulfill. You couldn't abandon your calling for love, and you knew he couldn't do it either.

Suddenly your overwhelmed self lit up with a stormy light awakening your senses, alerting them to the approaching change. The air around you seemed to bend, curving as you saw a vortex of golden sand forming in the middle of the room. Your heart leaped joyously as Morpheus emerged from the sand. Wrapped in his mystical cloak that hid a galaxy of stars, he looked at you with his endless eyes, and the stars shone joyfully upon seeing your smiling face.

"Hello beloved," you whispered rising from the bed. You came up to him, and he, without hesitating, kissed you deeply.

"You were missing from a Dreaming," he said, and you couldn't help but think if his voice would ever stop sending shivers down your spine, "I was worried."

"I can't sleep," you replied softly.

"Something on your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you replied giving in to his embrace.

"I saw," he stated as his cloak wrapped around you tightly.

"You saw? What do you mean?" you were surprised.

"For a moment I saw the exorcism you performed with Constantine," Morpheus explained.

"Just like when I heard your thoughts," you recalled the night Morpheus retrieved his ruby, "Morpheus, is it because of the vial of sand?"

"No," he replied shortly, "The sand contains an aspect of my existence, but it doesn't grant such possibilities. Not by itself." You looked at him questioningly, and he continued, "Just as I can't see the dreams of people in the Waking World, the sand wouldn't let me see your thoughts. The power that grants us this connection comes from you, not from me."

"But I'm just a Witch."

"Just a witch," he chuckled softly, "You sure?"

You clung to him, saying nothing. You didn't know how you could comment on this, since you yourself had questioned your reality barely moments ago.

"Come with me to Dreaming," Morpheus said quietly, "You need to rest." You just nodded and looked at John, "Don't worry, he will know."

*

Looking at his palace shining with a million lights against the starry night, you couldn't help but wonder about the dawning laws of night and rising day in Dreaming. After all, his Realm existed regardless of the time of day in the real world, after all, somewhere in the world at any time there was night. Yet the times of day and night seemed to change in Dreaming according to the will of its Ruler, like everything else.

"It's so beautiful," you gasped in admiration of the palace, "Absolutely stunning."

"Thank you," Morpheus accepted the compliment, "I think I've rebuilt it even more majestic than it was," he assessed his work then stood in front of you and looked deeply into your eyes with that gaze that seemed to look straight into your soul. "In the west wing, I have prepared chambers for you. In them, you will find all the comforts you may need. If you are missing something, if I haven't thought of something, tell me. I will personally see to it that the palace servants take care of it."

"Morpheus I…you didn't have to," you replied stunned.

"I wanted to," a faint smile appeared on his face, "You cannot fall asleep under the open sky every time and run home when you need something."

"Does that mean I'll find a coffee maker there?" you quipped.

"Coffee maker and anything else you want, " he laughed softly. “In my Realm your every wish will be granted.”

"Don't tempt me," you smirked, “Or I will start getting ideas."

Morpheus only smiled after which he took you by the hand and led you over a narrow bridge to the palace. It rose above the river that surrounded the palace, and in its perfectly smooth surface of water millions of stars reflected their splendor. You felt like when he first led you to the Dreaming, only now you were not following him, but walking side by side with him. As usual, he guided your arm under his, and your hand found its place on his forearm. He smiled at you with a smile discernible only to your watchful eyes. You could see the happiness in his eyes, the pride even as he led you towards the huge majestic gates of the palace. As you walked closer, you drew in the air loudly with amazement as the wyvern, griffin, and hippogriff bowed their heads in greeting to their Ruler. Their beauty and majesty took your breath away as they spread their wings proudly and addressed their Monarch.

"Greetings, My Lord," they spoke one after another.

"They are real," you whispered quietly squeezing Morpheus' shoulder tighter.

"Of course, they are real, as real as they can be in the Dreaming. They are entrusted to guard the entrance to the palace. They've been informed that you're always welcome here," Morpheus explained, and only now you realized that they were not only bowing to him, but also to you.

"Greetings, Milady," Gryffin addressed you politely, and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"You will have to get accustomed to it," Morpheus noticed the blush appearing on your cheeks and smiled warmly, "Do not forget that I am the Ruler of this Kingdom, and you are mine. Everyone is obliged to show you proper respect." He explained as he led you through the palace gates, which opened on their own sensing his arrival.

The great hall, which only a few months ago you saw in a state of ruin and decay, now marveled with its mystical beauty. Numerous marble pillars were decorated with statues, reminding you of the great kings' palaces you had read about in fantasy books. The pillars were connected by arches under a high vault that, to your delight, was not a ceiling, but an open sky with delicate white clouds moving over its starry surface. At the end of the hall, a high winding staircase led to the King's throne, behind which shone huge stained glass windows in colors of gold, blue and green.

You wanted to stop and admire the sky overhead, marvel at every intricately created sculpture, every refraction of light, but Morpheus led you down a narrow corridor to the right up the stairs to the west tower.

"The entire west wing has been emptied and prepared just for you," he began quietly, "No one but me has permission to enter it. You are free to explore the castle, but you are not allowed to venture beyond its boundaries to the Dreaming itself, I can not ensure your safety within its changing borders."

"You speak as if I were to stay here longer," you said quietly, and Morpheus stopped in place, looked at you, took your hand, and brought it up to his chest, as was his custom.

"If you wish my palace can become your home" the stars shone with desire when the depth of his voice pierced you to the core.

You wanted to, you knew you should say something, yet the words seemed to be stuck within you. Your heart pounded ferociously as he looked at you this way, expecting an answer, and for a moment you even imagined yourself dressed in a beautiful gown, as you walked the majestic corridors of the palace day and night, as you accompanied him in his creation, as you explored the endless books in his library, free from pain, free from struggle, free from the cares of mortal life.

"Morpheus…" you began, and although you wanted with all your being to abandon your past life and stay with him in a Dreaming forever, "We need to talk…"

Morpheus reached for the handle and opened the door to one of the huge chambers that were meant to be yours.

"I hope you will find it to your liking," he said, ushering you into a room composed of shades of black, burgundy, and pale gold. Cozy, mystical, inviting. The fluffy carpet asked you to take off your shoes and touch it with your bare feet, and the armchairs and sofas invited you to relax and disappear into the world hidden in the many books that awaited you on the shelf. The huge bed invited you to sleep, to drift off into a land of oblivion and relaxation. A large dressing room hid countless gowns that promised to wrap your body with the touch of silk and velvet. The huge wings of the balcony window opened a view of the entire western side of the Kingdom, promising the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets.

"Morpheus I don't know what to say," you sighed, running your hand along the walls and furniture.

"This is all yours."

"Do you really want me to stay here?"

"Yes."

You opened the balcony door and stepped outside, inhaling deeply the freshness of the warm night air. You leaned against the railing and stared at the Dream's Kingdom stretching out before you. So calming, so delightful, how could you resist his invitation, how could you refuse him. Morpheus came up to you and also leaned against the railing staring at you. You knew he was waiting for an answer, you knew he was waiting for an answer you couldn't give him.

"I saw Despair," you said quietly, "Or at least I think so."

"In your profession, it seems to be expected."

"No, you don't understand, I saw Despair," you raised your eyes and gazed into the endless blackness of his night trying to read his reactions, "I also met Desire."

"Explain," he ordered, and although it seemed impossible the universe in his eyes darkened even more.

"Today, after the exorcism was completed, I saw Despair. A woman. She was sitting in the corner of the room and I was the only one who saw her," you said quietly gazing into the distance, you so wished Morpheus would wrap his arms around you instead of gazing into your soul, "she looked so…sad. Her eyes were so empty. There was something like a hook on her finger, she was cutting her face with it," you raised your eyes to Morpheus again, but his face remained the same, clouded, stern, "she also saw me. She looked directly at me."

"What about Desire?" the tone of his voice made fear creep into your heart.

"That was a few days ago. Right after we came back from England, right after you discovered that David wasn't in the Dreaming," you began to explain.

"I want you to tell me the details," he demanded.

"Fuck… how to say it," you blushed again, "I was a bit turned on after you left me so suddenly, if you know what I mean," Morpheus' stern look didn't make things any easier for you, "But before I could do anything I suddenly found myself in their Realm I guess. I think so. It was a big red chamber, and Desire was there. Like they were waiting for me," you tried to explain, but couldn't find the right words. You grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the chamber. You sat down on the bed on your shod feet and pulled him gently forcing him to sit down facing you. "I don't know if this is going to work," you began to explain seeing his confused look, "I rarely do this with people, and you're not human, but let's try," you reached out and put your fingers to his temple.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't explain everything in words, so I'll show you," you explained, "Relax and let me in," you instructed.

You focused on him, staring deeply into the endless universe of his eyes, trying to penetrate deeper, trying to find that connection that existed between you, like an invisible thread linking you in a joint fate. For a moment he resisted you, trying to push back the pushing force, but you did not give up. You took his face in your hands and pushed with your power even harder, and the resistance gave way. Inertia swept over you completely, as if you suddenly found yourself adrift in an impenetrable abyss of darkness. You closed your eyes and saw it. A shiny silver thin thread, shimmering against the blackness. You grabbed it with all your strength and Morpheus saw everything. He saw the red chamber and you standing dressed in black. He saw Desire hovering around you, brushing the hair away from your neck, touching your chest. You could feel his feelings, the rage boiling just below the surface, ready for action. He heard the words with which Desire taunted you, heard your strong answer, and you felt his darkness lighten with warmth. He saw everything you saw, felt everything you felt. And you knew he was angry.

You opened your eyes when you felt the touch of his gentle hands on yours. The abyss of his eyes remained indescribable as he held your hands in his own.

"That's why you asked me about the nature of Endless," he stated quietly.

You nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Your power is extraordinary, my dear," he said and kissed your palms, "Thank you for showing it to me."

"I didn't plan to hide it from you, it just all happened so fast…" you justified yourself.

"I know, you don't have to explain yourself," he interrupted you.

"What are you going to do?"

"I do not know yet. Perhaps my siblings need to be reminded that we don't meddle in each other's affairs," the stars in his eyes lit up menacingly only to soften a moment later when his eyes met yours again, "You said you were mine before you said it to me," he noted, "Despite such understandable doubts, you gave yourself to me." There was nothing but deep tenderness in his voice.

"I meant what I said. I love you," you said quietly, "yes, there are a billion questions and a billion doubts in my head, but my love for you is not something I question. Desire, Despair, Lucifer himself can go fuck themselves for all I care. I am all yours and you are all mine."

Morpheus only drew you to him so that in his arms you lay down on the bed. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his devotion onto your lips. Cuddled in his arms, you finally allowed your nerves to relax, to let go of the burden that had been weighing you down for days.

"Sleep, My Heart. I will watch over you," he said, and you drifted off into a blissful state of unconsciousness.

~~TBC~~

~~***~~ Authors note: Throughout this past week I was sure that I won't be able to get the chapter out this week. I had the whole weekend planned so I was writing during a week to get as much as I could do. On Friday I was almost at 5k words. I wrote a bit on Sunday, and suddenly it turned out that I have Sunday free after all. So after a moment of pondering I decided to add one more "small" scene. Well, that small scene kinda grew! Sorry, not sorry. I do hope that you enjoyed this long chapter and the direction in which the story is proceeding. Fun fact! I never planned on making Constantine such a big part of the story, but he brings great energy, and tbh I've always been a fan. Thank you for sticking with me through another chapter. See ya at the next one! And as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading. ~~***~~

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Eleven thousand and sixty-four: First meeting (Morpheus x Reader)

Pairing: Morpheus x fem!wife!reader

Sequel to Eleven thousand and sixty-four (where Morpheus learns you are pregnant)

Summary: Morpheus was trapped in Hell when the twins came. Now that he has managed to return, all that greets him is silence.

Warnings: Morpheus is afraid you died in childbirth, angst, Dream is soft af, the whole Dreaming is soft af, this fic is cheesy af

Word count: ~1.400

A/n: For context, the concept for this came to my mind while I was answering asks about the first part (this one in particular) and then I got another one saying, “After finally leaving Hell, Morpheus bursts through his palace doors in search of news about you and the babies. The silence freaks him out.” which led to me writing this sequel. Hope you enjoy!

***

It’s happening.

Matthew just returned with the news. It’s happening now, and he can’t be there for you. Exactly like he’s feared ever since he learned you’re carrying his children.

“Poor Morpheus,” Lucifer taunts. “Births of Endless blood are never easy. And two at once...! However will your sweet wife fare without your healing powers? I trust you’ll send word upon your return to inform us of your family’s well-being... should you still have one.”

Morpheus realizes hope may not be there to save him this time.

***

“Lucienne!” his voice booms in the vast throne room.

He never yells. If anything, his rage manifests in the sharp, dark edges of his tone, more menacing than any roar. But it isn’t rage he feels when all that greets him upon his return is eerie, complete silence.

He is afraid. He should be able to feel you in the Dreaming - the soothing, familiar presence always in the back of his mind. But his battle with Lucifer has left him weary, disoriented in a way he hasn’t felt since he’d slammed onto the cold, hard ground of Roderick Burgess’s basement. His consciousness grasps blindly for yours, but it seems as though he’s feeling for grains of sand with numb fingers.

“Lucienne!” he roars again, marching deeper into his palace with steps so heavy they put small cracks in the marble beneath. The fabric of the Dreaming is as fragile as his state of mind, but he can think of nothing but you as he storms up the stairs and bursts into your shared chambers.

Empty.

Lucienne hasn’t answered his call. In fact, he did not pass by a single soul on his way here. The place feels as empty as it was when his subjects had fled in the wake of his imprisonment.

“Boss.” Matthew lands in the doorway, panting slightly from having flown in a hurry back to the palace. Morpheus’s head snaps towards him, eyes glaring daggers.

“Where are they?”

“Er...”

It’s barely a moment’s hesitation, but all patience has left Morpheus.

“Speak!” he snarls at his poor raven. A blink later, Matthew realizes with a scared caw! that his boss has willed him straight into his grip, fingers uncomfortably tight around his neck. “What is the meaning of this silence?!”

“I’ll tell you, but... you need to calm down-”

“Do not speak to me of calm.” His jaw is so tense, it trembles as he growls, “Tell. Me. Where.”

“F-Fiddler’s Green,” Metthew squeaks out. “Everyone’s... there, but... you can’t just-”

Matthew nearly doesn’t manage to flap his wings in time to fly when he’s suddenly dropped. Morpheus is already gone.

He rematerializes in Fiddler’s Green, not even taking in his surroundings before he roars Lucienne’s name across the meadow. Still hers, for he is afraid of what he might do, should he call yours and receive no response.

It’s only when all eyes snap towards to him, gasps and murmurs rippling through the crowd, that he realizes he is standing in the midst of all the dreamfolk. They had been standing there in silence he had violently shattered, all having gathered there to see...

He can’t see. The crowd is too thick. Is it...?

His mind fills with the image of you lying on the grass, hands folded on your stomach and eyes closed. Of all his creations in the Dreaming, Fiddler’s Green is the place you love the most. It would stand to reason that Lucienne would bring you there, where the dreamfolk could bid their beloved queen farewell-

The Lord of Dreams cracks open in plain sight. A single tear escapes his eyes as the stars in them wither and die. One tear. But it’s far more than he’s even shown in the presence of his subjects.

And then, a high-pitched wail pierces the air. Another. Then another. But it’s no mourning Dream or Nightmare.

A baby is crying. In fact, if Morpheus listens closely...

Two.

Is that all that remains of you?

The despair doesn’t end, but it stands still. Guided by the sounds, his feet begin to carry him towards them.

One by one, his stunned subjects move out of his way, opening a path towards the middle of the meadow until it’s finally revealed to Morpheus what his whole realm had come to see.

“Morpheus?”

You - his wife, his queen, his love, mother of his children - are there. Sitting in an armchair made entirely of intertwined branches, covered in the richest layer of soft leaves, no doubt the creation of Fiddler’s Green. In your arms, there’s a little screeching bundle, squirming around as you try to rock it back into silence. An identical one lies in Lucienne’s arms, who is shooting up from her spot next to you in a similar chair.

“My Lord.”

Her relief is obvious in the waver of her professional tone. But it’s nothing compared to the tears gathering in your eyes, or the force with which the feeling washes over him at the sight of you alive and well. Tired, but well.

You try to stand, but visibly struggle with the crying baby in your hands and your own weakened state. Lucienne hurriedly lays a firm hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into your comfortable seat.

“My Lady, you mustn’t-”

You don’t, because Morpheus has finally regained control over his senses and rushed towards you. He kneels before his queen, and if his people whisper or gasp, he neither hears nor cares.

“Forgive me,” he begs, the first words to leave his mouth as much a surprise to him as they are to you. He lays his hands on either side of your thighs so that he may finally feel you, real and solid. “I was not here. I-”

“Morpheus,” you breathe out in utter disbelief. The tears in your eyes stream down your face freely as you reach for your husband’s cheek. “You were in Hell. Matthew stopped coming back. I thought...”

“Never, my love,” he takes the hand caressing his cheek in his, pressing his lips to the heel of your palm. “I have returned. I will always return.”

You release a sob, but try to hold in the ones that might have followed. You can’t even wipe your tears away with both your hands busy as they are - one clutching at your husband’s, the other holding your baby.

His baby. Now that he knows he hasn’t lost you, the realization begins to sink in. He lowers his eyes to the baby in your arms, then the one Lucienne is holding next to you, both still crying. It’s hardly a confusing sight - he has encountered and created much stranger beings along the neverending years. And yet it’s as if he needs to take his time understanding just how it was that such a miracle had come to be.

“We... were not sure when you would return, my Lord,” Lucienne explains softly, although she knows that’s not the question on his mind. “The dreamfolk wished to express their support towards the Queen, and... meet their princesses.”

So, the silence that had greeted him upon his return... the entire Dreaming was gathered here, around you. Standing by your side when he could not. An entire realm had fallen quiet, all so as not to disturb the sleeping children.

“Princesses?” he asks tentatively. You nod, smiling through a small sniffle.

“You have two babygirls.”

“Girls,” he repeats in awe, eyes glued to the bundle in your arms. You can’t help a brief chuckle at how uncharacteristically tongue-tied he’s become. “You have given me daughters.”

“As you were hoping,” you say as he slowly rises to his feet. “Would you like to...?”

You lean forward slightly, encouraging him with your eyes. He needs it, the way he’s looking down at the fragile being you’re offering to him.

“She’s not gonna break,” you insist softly.

But he’s broken so much in the past, even without a single touch.

Still, he reaches out. With utmost care, Morpheus wraps his arms around his daughter, lifting her from yours into the cradle of his own. He is met with wide, tearful eyes - but the crying slows to a halt as she looks into his, endless blue meeting endless blue.

“Thank you, Lucienne,” he hears you say, distantly. He only now notices that she has placed your other daughter in your arms, and taken a step back with a warm smile on her face. Fiddler’s Green offers his aid as well, new branches full of soft leaves sprouting from the side of your seat to resemble a couch, wide enough for Morpheus to take a seat next to you.

He does. He doesn’t want to crowd the two babies by holding them at once, so he only reaches out to feel the smooth skin of the second one’s cheek. As the first did, she settles at her father’s touch.

“We barely got them to sleep after they were born. It was like they knew...” you break off, pushing down the memory of those first few hours without him. “They just needed their father.”

“And they shall always have me. You shall always have me,” he vows, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch with a relieved sigh, eyes falling shut as he rests his forehead against yours. “How happy you have made me, my love. My life.”

His voice is too soft to be heard by the crowd still silently watching, but the Dreaming is him. Not one Dream or Nightmare is unmoved by the deep gratitude and affection their creator is overcome with. They may wonder at how openly he shows such emotions, but they certainly welcome the change. And as their king and queen share a tender kiss, they begin to cheer as they did on your wedding day, celebrating a new age - and the two new creations who have brightened up the realm.

***

A/n: Thank you for reading! Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed💕

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say my name | hc

pairing: tate langdon x female reader

summary: headcanons - you discover tate’s kink while making out with him, and eagerly entertain the new information

warning: smut, so 18 + only; mommy kink, choking

a/n: I live off of feedback, especially after one of my many hiatuses. please leave a comment or reblog, as it would feed my starving ego

Keep reading

A New Day

One-shot

Content Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2561

You find that in one of your many peaceful days; days filled with all sorts of dreams, and the loving care of your lover, Morpheus, that there is something different within you. In a matter of minutes, the realization hits you with the news that you are pregnant. You must break the news to Morpheus and when the day comes, he must learn how to pass the time, as new father.

Your love had gotten you where you needed to be. On a lazy Sunday, when the yellow sun hung high and you sat on your porch swing with a book, there came a sudden feeling, a realization that something within you was happening. And you curled up, setting down your book and then gently placed the thin blanket over yourself as you felt a cool breeze wash over your skin. It was a perfect day, with the most voluptuous clouds and the whispers of sweet rains to come later in the afternoon. For that moment you enjoyed the calm dance of the trees and the shade that pulled into its embrace and then into slumber. 

You were grateful for how easily sleep came to your tired body. Because in a moment's notice you opened your eyes and found yourself at home. 

It was then that you felt that strange feeling overwhelm you again, it was so subtle. But it was hard to miss. You had to find Morpheus at once. Quickly you rose from the bed of flowers that you’d woken up in, noticing quickly that you were already outside his castle. With haste you dusted your dress off and headed inside. 

“Morpheus!” You called. There weren’t many people around and your voice echoed off the walls. “Morpheus!” You repeated yourself, this time more anxiously. 

You continued down the hall and found yourself at the library, Lucienne was there, features sharp and concentrated on the task at hand as always. She hadn’t heard your footsteps make themselves known, but your voice cracking through the silence, she did hear. 

“Morpheus!” You cried out again. 

She stood up from your chair and looked at you with concern in her eyes, “my Lady, is everything alright?” 

You shook your head, “I can’t find him Lucienne, where is he?”

“Ah that, he’s around, he’s very focused on his work,” her features dropped  the heavy concern, “is something the matter?”

“I have very urgent news to discuss with him.”

She quirked a brow at your response before placing a soft hand on your shoulder, “alright Miss, I’ll lead you to Lord Morpheus.” 

You relaxed under her touch and walked beside her. “Has he been working for a while?” 

“I’ll be honest Miss, I lose track of time in the library. But I do believe he has been working for msome time now.” She said, and though she knew it might not be the right call, she decided to ask one more time. “Is something the matter, Miss?” 

You took a deep breath and stopped in your tracks, “I- I think I might…” And you may have continued that thought but before you could you heard his voice calling softly to you. You turned to face him immediately. His figure loomed overhead, you found your heart beating fast and before you knew it you were speeding down the corridor in the direction of his welcoming arms. 

He left out a quiet huff when your bodies collided, but he collected you into his arms as you made yourself at home in him.

 “I heard you call for me?” 

Face buried in his chest, you nodded and squeezed him. You felt words get caught in your chest. 

He brought a hand up to your head, holding you against him, “what troubles you my love?” 

You turned to look up into those wonderful eyes of his, star filled and full of light. 

“You,” a sigh left you, brave, you needed to be brave, “you are going to be a father.” 

He looked dazed as the words escaped you. As if he could not fathom the idea of fatherhood yet again. Lips pursed into a line, he just met your gaze and thought a million things at once. “Are you certain?” But he, too, could feel it. He shook his head, “Do you wish to see this through?” 

You broke his gaze and nuzzled into him, then you nodded slightly, “can we?” 

‘Can we?’

Those words buzzed in his ears. Nothing could prepare him for the joy. He took your face into his hands and pressed a kiss on your lips, desperate and full of love. 

“Anything for you my love.”

-

Resting with sweat covering every inch of your body you watched as Morpheus stared with curious carefulness, at the small bundle in your arms. 

“You can come closer,” you said, your eyes looking down at the sleeping baby and then back up at him. “He looks like you.” 

His lips quirked into a faint smile, “does he?” He slowly climbed into the bed making his way closer and closer to you. Once at your side he looked at you expectantly, “may I?” 

It dawned on you that the softness from his voice sounded different. It filled you with a kind of love that you were not quite ready for yet, as it overwhelmed your senses, the manner in which it seemed that the child in your arms could turn him into perfectly melted butter in an instant. The kindness in his tone was sugary honey, cascading into your being, taking a hold of you. He was yours, he loved you. He held your son in his arms so carefully, as if a single touch may break or shatter its small light body. The galaxies in his eyes awakened as a new purpose and consciousness stirred into his very soul. He felt as though he too was born anew, the child stirred in his arms, little gurgles of sleep broke from his rest, a smile continued to grow on Morpheus. He held the child closer and he reached for his tiny hands holding it delicately in his. He had forgotten how small babies were. He now had another being to whom his heart belonged to. 

He leaned over and placed a kiss on your forehead. Seconds later, your eyes closed and you fell into a deep sleep. 

Morpheus got up from the bed, seeing his sleeping son stir in his arms. “When you wake, I shall show you your home,” he whispered. Then he turned to look at your sleeping figure as a sneeze escaped you. But you turned and continued to sleep. 

He walked over to the window, the sun was raining down on him. In the light he watched, as those wide round eyes opened slowly and stared back at him with an equal amount of amazement and marvel. He smiled, he could really see what you meant in that moment, when those bright eyes looked into his soul he felt as if lost in his own reflection. 

“We named you some time ago,” he mumbled, his thumb caressing the baby’s cheek tenderly. “Aster,” he said into the air, “she said that you would be a star and we must name you accordingly.” 

He felt understood by his son for a moment. In his arms he felt like he carried the universe and the universe stared back at him. That until a cry tore the air and rattled  his nerves to his very core. Panicked, Morpheus turned to look in your direction. Did the child suddenly hate him? He was by no means incompetent but he was unerved at the crying that came from the lungs of such a small creature. Determined to not fail as a father, in a blur of sand he exited the room and found himself in the kitchen. Food, maybe his son was hungry. He saw that you had already meticulously prepared bottles of formula. He remembered your worried features, as the anxiety of your child rejecting you and not having formula ran through your head with a million other worse case scenarios. 

He took the bottle and found that his attempt to feed his child would prove to be nothing but futile. With some sort of manic strength, the child took one sip from it and then pushed it away from Morpheus’ grip. In his head he smiled, that could count as an endearing moment, but with the crying, he found himself disturbed that he could not, without his magic lull his own son into a state of calm. 

He frowned and that seemed to make the child cry more and more. He took a deep breath and thought, he knew it would be wrong to wake you… He tried to rock the baby, gently, “shhhh,” he began so slowly, the gentleness of his heart pouring out. “Dearest, you must rest,” his eyes twinkled. The rocking seemed to work ever so slightly. 

He turned to look around in the small space they had, one glimpse at the trees outside, and he knew just what to do. In one more swirl of sand, he traveled from the kitchen into the lush grounds of Fiddler’s Green. The sturdy trees stretched magically ahead. 

“This is our realm,” he said, and turned to the still crying child, “it is as much yours as it is mine.” 

Morpheus waved his arm in front of him and from the ground, made out of twisted branches and sprinkled with leaves, sprouted a seat in which he sat. Another wave of his hand and butterflies swarmed the area, fluttering in their bright colors, painting the world just for his son. “Your mother loves it here,” he started, and noticed that Aster’s eyes had gone wide and his wails had faded from the air. “This is where she told me she loved me,” he smiled. He was smiling so much, those smiles reserved for the little, unknowing bundle in his arms. “I was smitten by her courage, as I’d been a coward. But she…” his voice faded, those eyes looked at him expectantly, “she faced me head on, called me unaware, pathetic- she completely seized my heart that day.” 

Little by little, as he continued to speak, he noticed that you and Aster shared a peculiar similarity. His eyes, which had looked just about everywhere they could, came to a slow descending close. And in minutes, slowed rhythmic breathing left the sleeping baby’s lungs. It seems as his voice had the power to lure even the two most stubborn beings he knew into a deep sleep. 

He cradled him, his eyes filled with the utmost adoration. Overhead, the sky was darkening and the stars began to show their glittering bodies in the inky blackness. He felt that warmth fill him. That night he would grant all the dreamers the gentlest of dreams. It was a night for peace. 

Sensing that you would wake soon, he left in a sprinkle of sand, returning once more to your side. 

You were slowly coming out of the drowsiness and once he appeared next to you on the bed, you reached for your son, even in sleep you had the sense he was much too far from your side. Morpheus smiled, he knew you needed your turn in the moment, but he was slow to do so. Fully and utterly attached to the beautiful baby that you and him had created.

He laid next to you both, thus becoming the big spoon. His hands traced your shoulders and arms, his head found a comfortable spot atop your head where he placed one of many kisses. In your loving sanctuary, though he did not feel tired, he did feel at peace. So Morpheus closed his eyes, finding himself right where he needed to be, and he slept. With your back pressed against him, he felt a tingle in his mind, reminding him that there were a myriad of days ahead and he need not face them alone ever again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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 @jesllianaquilesrolon @camrynmason1​ @boofy1998

Platonic Vance Hopper x Steve Harrington HCs

Vance didn’t want to go to that goddamn house so he decided he will wait till midnight to go home

He decided to wait on the curb of some dumb street light

He just got away from getting arrested for beating a guy for messing with his game

He didn’t want to hear that man that is in the law his “father” right now. Not his nagging, not his glaring eyes of hate for something he didn’t do.

He couldn’t help but be away from that man.

If he could he would strangle him till his life ended in his hands but he would much rather not be in cuffs 

They hurt his wrists and would rather not experience them again

Vance sat on the curb with bloody knuckles, from his the guy’s teeth he punched out and the knife that he tried to stab Vance with

He still had the knife in his pocket 

As he sat down on the curb a man walked up to him, he looked young maybe in his early 20s or so

“Hey, you okay kid?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“You’re bleeding, come on let me help you with that at least”

Vance struggled before he inevitably let the dude wrap his knuckles in bandages and then help with the slight scarring on his wrists from the cuffs

The man eventually introduced himself as Steve Harrington and Vance after a “little” bit of convincing introduced himself as Vance Hopper

Steve helped Vance up and took him to some grocery store to get this kid a chocolate bar

After a lot of run-ins with each other Vance finally softened a bit

Steve bought Vance food most of the time and they would eat together 

Steve and Vance found a spot in the woods that was a no man’s land and was perfect

It was an unused railroad that ran above a river that wasn’t too far from the river but a perfect place to jump off from and not feel like you got hit in the stomach when jumping in face first 

The bridge wasn’t connected to any railroads so it was safe to just hang out on it

Steve and Vance would hang out with some candles to warm up and blankets and just listen to music and tell stories 

Vance told Steve about how he was kidnapped and stored in some basement with other kids but in the end, there were only 6 victims 

Steve was horrified to see how calm Vance was about the situation and tried to comfort or at least help him realize it was not just some inconvenience 

“Well I wouldn’t say being kidnapped was the best thing in the world but it was just better than life kinda, it’s hard to explain but it was like life had stopped and kinda peaceful. When I say this I mean like when I wasn’t beaten or… other times.”

Steve teared up and hugged Vance who didn’t really get it and didn’t hug back but definitely didn’t push him off

Steve will admit he had been spending a bit more time with Vance than the other and he will admit that it’s unfair 

But he was so traumatized about this kid's life story, it’s not with the upside down where it sort of only happens in Hawkins but this wasn’t some demo bullshit it was real life where anybody could be kidnapped and it’s a regular occurrence that it’s scary. To know he’s gone through that so he sort of implanted himself as mother hen in Vance’s life

He had no one but himself to blame

Vance discovered that without his pinball machine that he fidgets a lot and even fidget with Steve’s hand before Steve gave him some gadgets to distract himself 

Vance lets Steve braid his hair and it’s a really cute moment where Vance is sipping tea that Steve made and Steve trying to get the angle right so the Bobby pins and such stay and look good

Once the others noticed how Steve seemed to be a bit more busy than usual they follow him a bit and discover Vance

“Hey hippety Hopper! I got you some snacks” Steve had a pep in his step as he almost skipped over the bridge 

“Call me that again and I will stab you Steve, don’t forget about my sociopathic tendencies.” Vance glared at Steve with a playful yet serious statement like he could do that but not to Steve 

“Right right now tell me you wanted to talk about your friends? Or the kids with you in the basement” Steve sat down next to Vance opening the bag in his hands 

“Yeah… well, we sort of had a click since we were all kidnapped and stuff so we sort of just stayed together. I think I remember you saying that it’s a trauma response can’t remember, anyway. There’s this boy whose name is Griffin, he’s a few years younger than me and he was one of the ones with me… he’s a small kid and he doesn’t have any friends and I feel bad. I don’t know why but it’s irritating not knowing and it’s got me angry why I feel bad even though I’m sure he doesn’t have a bad home life or anything so it just makes me angry that I feel this way.” Vance talked with pauses as if thinking about how to talk he spoke about his feelings and also fidgeted with Steve’s hand a lot more 

“It’s okay to feel that way so what do you do in this group? Hang out or something?” Steve leaned back to lay on the wooden bridge and Vance soon accompanied him 

“I guess we sort of just hang out in the abandoned house down the road. It used to be the high schoolers hang out before we showed up, I’m pretty sure it's because of me” Vance didn’t seem upset actually kinda proud of himself which reminded Steve of a certain someone he once knew

Vance continued to talk about the others and how they were called the Casper crew for looking like ghosts but it stuck and they take pride in it

Vance talked about being injured and helping the kid who killed their kidnapper and how he had to be carried by another injured guy (Robin) 

Steve when he heard the name Robin immediately went to his coworker robin and told stories about her

Vance listened attentively as Steve ranted 

Max was surprised at how fucking identical Vance was to billy and how his style resembled Eddie, it made some cry while others were completely shocked. 

Vance decided to go a bit early to go to his friend's house so they had their goodbyes early 

Once Steve noticed the party he yelled at them for being so late in the night