✨Various x Reader One-Shots✨

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 | 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 | 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚖𝚊𝚗

Your polished black boots silently clack against the wood floors of the Library. The Library of Dreams. You trace your hand along its side, desperately wanting to feel the inspiration leaking out of its pages. You wanted to touch each and every spine in this library. Until your finger stops at a curve. With a quick pull, you had a blue framed book in your hands. A book of folk tales, it was obvious its readers were children. But it didn't matter because you wanted to read it. And you could.

"Can I help you?"
You turn to the elf behind you. You nod, and her eyes fall to the book in your hands. Lucienne cracks a smile. "I don't believe I've read that one in a while." She tilts her head, "Can you do much reading like this?" Even in the Dreaming, you were strange. You couldn't control how you appeared, how your mind perceived you. How you were. A white covering gown covered you, covered in rips, while a white sheet covered your head. Like a little girl hiding from their father, under their bedding. Your skin was littered with cuts and nicks, the blood still hadn't dried. "I can." That was all you were able to say. She gave a sympathetic smile, "Well you don't have to be sneaking around here, any dreamer is welcome." Even in your dreams, you were scared of eyes. Of someone seeing you, seeing through you, Seeing past you.

Not even in your dreams could you be safe. You neglect to tell her why you were really tip-toeing across the Dreaming, that you watched her king forge new clouds, and nights, that you'd trace his throne's arms of dust and sand. You're just a pigeon, watching everyone play on the beach. "Of course.." You stumble with your words, you always had. Not sure if you could walk the next stair if you would slip. Would you be able to get back up?

You felt a shadow loom over your body, "Lucienne." You straighten yourself, He was behind you. Sometimes you were scared if he saw you where you were supposed to be, he'd know you were where you weren't. That if he peeked just enough he'd know what you really were. She turns to the figure behind you, "Yes, my Lord?" You pull your book close to your chest, before taking a step away. A body stepped in front of you. "A strange selection." His eyes darted to the book folded in your hands. "It always is, isn't it?" As you said it, you knew you needed to get out of there. Instead this time he grabs your wrist. The moment he touched you, you were gone. Only leaving a crowd of shimmering butterflies.

Just as he thought. When he worked, in the corner of his eye he'd often see a single shine, a single white feather. When he entered the throne room, a quick one would fly off. Even in Fiddlers Green, where phoenixes and doves crowded, he knew which one was you. But not of what you were, who you were. Usually, Dream would grab that feather, assuming another one of Desires schemes. But he couldn't find it in himself to hurt any of you, as empathic as he was- he could feel the wonder and ruin in your bones. Curiosity found its way to him, again and again.
A little string pulling him closer to you, every feather you left behind. He had just missed you, running from his eye the moment he turned. He began to get accustomed to the little visitors. He wasn't sure how long you had been watching him. But he hoped to return the favor. Maybe you'd feel the comfort he felt. To not just be a spec in a rainbow sea. To have someone see him, to see what he was doing. To see what he was creating. No one had ever asked to watch him work before, though you hadn't it felt as if you did. Not getting a moment closer, perhaps in fear of what just happened, that he'd finally step into the right room at the right time.

For such a distinct feather you were hard to find, impossible even. So much so that he worried you were a vortex. That he couldn't have you. It might've been that- that made you so alluring. That made him want to keep you in his pocket and nuzzle your head to ensure your smiles.

He was beginning to feel embarrassed about how deep he had fallen in your loop. Instead of creating new dragons, or knights- he went on searching the Dreaming. What were you? What were to have been able to do that? His searches left him lost and upset, enough so his raven began to notice. "Uh, sir?" "I'm rather busy right now, Matthew." That was an immediate cue that something was wrong, he was a smidge ruder than he usually was. "You don't look busy." Dream covers his eyes in exhaustion. "I am not in the mood for you, raven." "Good, let's talk about that." He flutters closer to him, landing on his throne's arch. Seeing the cloud above the two, he asks "Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help." Dream lets his eyes peek from his pale fingers. "If I cannot find her, what makes you think you can?"