#Death of the Endless|Teleute | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fatecantstopme · 2 years

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could make an imagine where reader fem is a goddess or an immortal being who is caught and imprisoned along with morpheus and after a century spent in that bubble with the infinite being and keeping each other company, she created affection for the same however free now she she doesn't know if dream wants her by his side, since now he has responsibility and a kingdom to rebuild, and she has a lost century to chase.🤗🤗

A/N: Okay, I love this idea...hope you do too! 💜

My Hope

Pairing: Morpheus x immortal!reader

Summary: Reader is an immortal who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and was captured alongside Morpheus when Roderick Burgess cast his spell to imprison death. The two form a bond during their century of captivity, but what happens after they're free?

Warnings: Angst (obvi), and definitely a fluffy ending. Discussions of captivity and Jessamy's death.

You were walking down a dark road at night, completely alone, with not a single concern for your safety. You often took walks late at night to ease your mind and help you sleep. You had lived far longer than any of your human companions could ever dream, but such a life took its toll on you. The loneliness had begun to creep in after a lifetime of losing everyone you had ever loved, again and again, with no end in sight.

You were nothing special, not a goddess or a powerful being of any kind. You were once mortal, but you had been granted a gift long ago by a woman you had befriended, the only woman who had managed to live as long as you. You had known her as Teleute, though others would call her Death.

You had been sick, dying, and Teleute had come to you in the moments preceding what should have been your death. She was your friend and you knew her well, but in that moment, you saw her for what she was. Unlike many of the people she had guided in her Endless life, you were not afraid, not of her, nor of the Sunless Lands. Although it was her duty, Teleute could not bring herself to watch your life come to a close. Instead, she gifted you immortality, the chance to live endless lives, the opportunity to spread your warmth and compassion to countless others in the coming centuries.

It was a gift you did not waste, nor did you wish to return it, but it had become a heavy burden at times like these. Moments when you laid to rest someone you had loved, whether it be friend or lover, it hurt all the same.

This particular evening, you wandered the dark streets, plagued by memories of those you had lost, sleep a distant dream. Just up ahead, you heard voices, one sounded frightened, but it was the other that caught your attention. The voice was impossibly deep, and it carried with it an authority you felt deep in your bones. The voice reminded you of black velvet, thick and luxuriously laid across your skin, warming you from the outside in.

As you neared the source of the voices, you suddenly felt a strange pull, and the world around you disappeared. You landed with a painful thud on a cold concrete floor, in a place you did not recognize. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw several people standing around you, and a cloaked figure lying on the floor beside you. You watched in horror as they removed each item of clothing from the figure, including a helmet of sorts, a leather pouch, and what appeared to be a ruby necklace. When all was stripped away, the figure of a man laid bare before you.

Though you did not know him, anger rippled through you at the cruel and careless treatment shown to him. "Who are you?" you angrily demanded of the man you deemed to be in charge.

"I am Roderick Burgess, the Magus, and I have captured Death."

You let out a hoarse laugh. "I do not know who this man is, but I can assure you he is not Death, nor, for the record, am I."

The man, Burgess, did not look convinced. "My spell brought you both to me, so if you are not Death, then who are you?"

You shrugged. "No one of consequence, at least not to you. So it seems your spells may need a bit of work."

He leaned in closer to you, careful to avoid the circle that surrounded you, a circle, you quickly realized, that was a boundary spell. "Perhaps some time alone in the darkness will soften you a bit. I have demands that one or both you must meet if you wish to see the light of day again." He paused, then gestured towards his acolytes. "But first, you will be stripped of your belongings, much like your friend."

To your horror, several men grabbed at your clothing and quickly rid you of it, down to nothing but your slip. You shivered in the cold, most of your skin bare for everyone to see, feeling the flames of rage settle into your bones. "You will pay for this disgrace, Roderick Burgess, of that, I promise you."

He did not seem bothered by your words, instead letting out a barked laugh as he walked away, his acolytes trailing behind him.

Your anger dissipated slightly when the spectators had left, turning instead to concern for the being laying next to you. You had nothing to cover him with, though you desperately wished for even a scrap of cloth you could share with him. He had to be cold, lying bare against in the concrete floor. "Are you alright?" you asked softly.

The man did not respond, but you could see the rise and fall of his chest, assuring you he was alive. "My name is (Y/N)," you said gently, just in case he could hear you. "I do not know why we are here, nor where exactly here is, but I will not leave you. I offer you what protection I can and I offer the promise of my companionship for as long as we are bound to this place."

While the man did not respond, you had a distinct feeling he could hear every word you said. His tense form seemed to relax slightly as you spoke, the obvious pain in his muscles seeming to fade away little by little.

Hours passed, how many, you did not know, but the man beside you never stirred, never woke. What you were unaware of was what was happening just above your heads, in the office of Roderick Burgess...

**********

"He is Dream of the Endless," The Corinthian said.

"And what of the woman?" Burgess asked.

Corinthian looked confused. "What woman?"

"I captured a woman with him. She will not tell me who she is."

"Was she wearing an ankh necklace?"

"No."

"Hmm...then I am unsure of who she is. My apologies. But I would recommend placing her in the same cell as Dream, to be safe."

"Cell?"

Corinthian sighed. He was surprised that a man as dense as Burgess had managed to capture an Endless, but pleased nonetheless. "Yes, a cell. An orb of sorts. Do exactly as I say and he will never escape."

**********

Down in the dungeon, you watched as men built a giant glass sphere, a sphere you assumed was intended for you and your companion, a companion who still had not woken. Much to your dismay, and perhaps your annoyance, you were correct in your assumption.

Your companion was unceremoniously tossed into this sphere upon its completion and though you fought with all your strength, you were tossed in along with him. You sat at the edge of the sphere, legs pulled up to your chest, desperately attempting to cover as much of yourself as you could with the tiny slip dress you wore. Your companion was curled up in the other corner, pain evident in his features, and you felt the rage build up in you again.

"You're a monster," you said to Burgess as he entered the room.

He laughed. "Perhaps, but if you give me what I want, I will free you."

"It does not matter what you wish for, I cannot give it."

"The you had better hope your friend can, or you will die in this glass cage, here in my dungeon."

You did not speak, choosing instead to level a steely glare at the man who had imprisoned you. Something in your gaze clearly frightened him, and he quickly left the dungeon, but not before ordering two of his men to stay behind and watch you.

You chose to ignore the men who stared at you, clearly trying to get a sneak peak at your body beneath the thin slip you wore. You instead turned your attention to the man beside you, whispering words of encouragement in his direction. You were worried about him, fearing the worst, but his chest still rose and fell rhythmically, at least for the moment.

**********

You were unsure how much time had passed when the man beside you finally stirred. You felt his presence more strongly than you had before, as if his soul had just now returned to his body. He was slow to move, as if each movement caused him pain, and your heart ached for him.

"Are you alright?" you asked gently, voice a soft murmur.

His gaze turned to you and you inhaled sharply. His eyes were deep pools of blue, but there was a distinct ethereal quality about them that took your breath away. You might have been nothing special, but there was certainly something special about the being beside you.

He did not speak, at least not audibly, but you heard a gentle voice inside your head, a voice you instantly recognized. "I am weak, but alive, thanks to your kindness."

It was the voice you had heard the night you were captured, the one that you felt inexplicably drawn to. "My name is (Y/N)," you whispered.

"I am Dream of the Endless," his voice replied in your head.

Hearing his name brought back memories, memories of your dear friend. "I know your sister, Teleute."

Surprise lit up his features and he eyed you closely. His voice was hesitant as he spoke in your mind, "You know of Death?"

You nodded. "She has been my friend for centuries. I live only because she allowed it."

Realization crossed his face, remembering his sister describing the woman she had gifted immortality to. He had never met her, but he felt as though he knew her simply through Death's stories. He did not know how to relay that information to you without verbal words in his current state. He was barely strong enough to speak short sentences within your mind.

As if you understood what he was thinking, you placed a gentle hand against his and whispered, "Rest now, we can speak later."

He appreciated your kindness, but also the warmth of your hand against his. He nodded and leaned back against the cold glass, eyes closing again.

You felt instinctively protective of Dream, in part because of your connection with Death, but also because much like Death had spoken to Dream of you, she had also told you about him. He was every bit as she had described him, though smaller and more fragile than you had expected. You realized it was likely because everything had been taken from him, things he relied upon for strength and power. You knew there was not much you could do for him in the way of protection, but you silently vowed that you would do everything in your power to ensure you both got out of this alive.

**********

The years passed by, Dream never speaking a word aloud, Burgess never backing down from his demands, and you refusing to give Burgess the satisfaction of your emotional reactions. You were as silent as the Endless beside you, but when Burgess left, you would speak softly to the dream lord, and he would reply in your head.

As time passed, he grew strong enough to speak long, slow sentences in your mind, telling you of his home, The Dreaming, and of the dream folk who resided there. He spoke of Lucienne, his librarian, and of Jessamy, his beloved Raven.

There were moments, when he spoke, that is eyes seemed to glow with starlight. It was a beautiful sight, but it never lasted more than a moment, the realization of his predicament always dampening any glimmer of hope he held in his soul.

Unbeknownst to you, he had found hope in you. You were like a light in the darkness, keeping him from falling into complete despair. Your soft words and your gentle reassurances were enough to keep him going despite the hell you both remained in.

One morning, much to your surprise, and to his, you heard the sound of wings flapping outside the sphere. When you looked up, you saw a beautiful raven with a patch of white on her chest and you knew instantly this was Jessamy, Dream's beloved raven companion.

Dream's face lit up for the first time in years. You saw the hope in his eyes and the pure delight at seeing his friend. Jessamy frantically pecked against the glass, desperately trying to break it and set her master free.

As the glass began to crack, you heard a loud gunshot ring out and the beautiful bird fell to the floor, bloody and broken.

You felt Dream's pain and your heart broke for him, and for his sweet raven. When your eyes fell on the man--no, boy--who had committed this heinous act, you felt a venomous rage build up within you.

As the boy's father yelled at him and demanded he clean up the mess he'd made, you sat silent beside the dream lord, like two statues refusing to show emotion.

When the boy and his father left, leaving the two of you alone with your guards, you turned to Dream, expression soft and sad. "Dream?" you asked gently.

He turned to look at you, eyes haunted and filled with unshed tears.

You did not ask for his permission, you simply wrapped him in a hug and held him close. He would not cry, you knew, but you would not let him mourn alone.

After several minutes, the dream lord laid down beside you and placed his head in your lap. Your fingers ran through his soft hair, soothing him as he closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the painful image forever burned in his mind.

**********

It had been 50 years since the two of you had been imprisoned when things began to change between you both. Your companionship had long-since turned to friendship, but now was blossoming into something more. Every time you spoke or looked his way, Dream felt a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in centuries. And you relished in the sound of his voice resonating in your mind, and in the way his eyes held your gaze, unspoken emotions swimming deep within them.

You had told him of your life, the good and the bad, and you had spent most of the last 50 years wide awake, whether you wanted to or not. Dream had noticed this several years prior and asked you if you wished to sleep. At the time, your answer had been no, you had not wished to relive your life's worst moments, but now, after the passage of so much time, you were exhausted. Your mind had been foggy for ages, a fog Dream was painfully aware of every time he spoke words into your mind.

"Perhaps I can gift you a peaceful sleep? One lacking in any dreams at all," he spoke softly in your mind.

His words barely registered at all and you said nothing. Dream felt a deep worry in his heart and he reached out again. When you still did not reply, he reached a hand out and placed it against your arm, rousing you from your trance-like state.

You turned your head to look at him and he once again asked you if you would like to sleep. This time, you nodded your head and he closed his eyes, taking a moment to gather what little strength he had. He could not do much in his current state, but he was determined to give you this.

You slowly closed your eyes and drifted off into a silent, dreamless sleep, a gift from the lord of dreams himself. Your body went limp and you slumped against his shoulder, breath deepening as you relaxed into a peaceful slumber.

Dream's body tensed at first at the feeling of your head against his shoulder, but he soon relaxed, enjoying the feeling of your body so close to his.

You slept for days, a deep, restful sleep you had not realized you were so desperately in need of. When you finally awoke, you found yourself cradled against Dream's chest, the gentle beating of his heart soothing your worried mind.

You did not wish to alert him to your waking, but he felt it all the same. He was, after all, the god of sleep. "Did you sleep well?" he asked in your mind, a mind that was much sharper and clearer than it had been in years.

"I did, yes," you lifted your head and looked up into his eyes, surprised at the deep emotion you saw within them. If you had not known better, you would have described those beautiful pools as affectionate, even loving. "Thank you," you whispered.

"It was my pleasure."

**********

Another 50 years passed and by this point, you were starting to lose hope that you would ever escape. Your only pleasure was the companionship you had gained over the last century. The dream lord was unlike any being you had ever met and you'd found yourself falling in love with him, despite the terrible situation you were in.

You had not said a word to him, nor would you, at least not while in captivity. You did not want him to think you cared for him only because he was all there was. Now that you knew him, truly knew him, you knew that was exactly the way he would think.

On this particular day, Alex and his husband, Paul, had come to visit you one last time. As they left, Paul broke the boundary spell that had held you both for a century. He turned and gave you a look of acknowledgment before leaving the dungeon for the final time.

Your eyes met Dream's in a hopeful glance and he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge you. He knew what you were asking without speaking and he answered without words.

You watched as the scene unfolded before you. You did not know what images Dream had placed into the guard's mind, all you knew was that the glass was broken and you were finally free.

Dream took your hand and you felt the power in his veins that had been missing for a century. He was suddenly clothed, his long cloak returning to him. He turned to you and placed a soft kiss against your forehead as you stood there in the dungeon, bullets flying around you. You felt warm clothes cover your body and your eyes locked onto the dream lord's face. You knew what he was doing, and you did not fault him for it.

When he was finished, his eyes fluttered open and he pulled you in close, holding you tightly before you both disappeared, leaving the waking world entirely.

You landed in what felt like soft sand, but you could not figure out where you were. There was a breeze and the sound of waves, but you could not feel Dream's body any more.

You heard the sound of a voice you did not know and then you heard the warmth of Dream's voice covering you like waves on the beach. "Dream?" you called out.

"I am here," he said softly, reaching down to help you to your feet.

Your eyes adjusted to your new surroundings, seeing light for the first time in a century. You looked around, taking in what really did appear to be a beach, and a giant walled...city? Memories came flooding back to you and you realized this was Dream's home. "The Dreaming," you said in awe.

Dream smiled at you warmly. "Welcome, (Y/N), to my realm."

Your eyes landed on a woman you knew instantly, though you had never met. "You must be Lucienne," you said warmly.

The librarian looked surprised. "You know me?"

You looked up at Dream. "We had some time to talk..."

He winced slightly, but nodded his agreement. He began to walk towards the massive gates, you following behind him, and Lucienne just behind you.

"Sir?" Lucienne called.

Dream turned to her. "What is it, Lucienne?"

"The Dreaming sir, it is not as you left it."

"What do you mean?"

She gestured to the gates. "See for yourself."

The gates opened as if they sensed their master. When you saw what laid beyond them, you gasped in surprise.

Dream turned to Lucienne and whispered, "Who did this?"

Lucienne explained that The Dreaming had simply deteriorated over the century he had been gone...and that most of the dream folk had long since left.

Your heart immediately went out to Dream, the pain on his face evident as he took in the remains of his home. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, a gentle reassurance as well as a reminder that you were there for him, whatever he needed.

Although he did not speak, he was incredibly thankful to have you by his side, to give him strength when all seemed hopeless. But to you, the outside observer, all you could see was cold sorrow, none of the warmth that he had shown you over the years.

"I must gather my tools and rebuild," he said simply, a fierce determination lacing his voice. He pulled away from you and began to walk towards what remained of his palace, a king on his way to a broken throne.

You turned to look at Lucienne, seeking some sort of guidance, or perhaps comfort, in her eyes. What you saw was a piercing sadness, not just for The Dreaming, or for Dream himself, but for you. In her eyes, you saw her view of Dream, the cold, distant ruler of a dying realm.

You looked at Dream's retreating form and you saw it too, for the first time in a century, you saw the coldness that Dream showed the rest of the world. You had hoped that your years together in captivity, and the love that had seemingly grown between you, would form an everlasting bond between the two of you. It seemed, at least from your view, that perhaps you had misjudged the dream lord, and a deep sadness settled into your soul, unlike any you had yet faced.

**********

Dream seemed to forget about you as he went about trying to collect his tools so he could return to his former strength and rebuild his realm.

The more effort he put into his search, the more distant he became. Until a time in which you decided that you could not live this way, a mere shadow of the past living in a cold, unwelcoming present. So you left The Dreaming, returning once again to the waking world, in search of the hope you had once found in the lord of dreams.

Dream noticed your absence immediately and sought Lucienne for explanation. "Where is she?" he asked when he found the librarian conducting her census.

"Where is who, my lord?"

"(Y/N)."

Lucienne was surprised at the tone of hurt in her master's voice as he spoke your name. "Well, my lord, I believe she returned to the waking world."

"Why? Is The Dreaming not to her liking? I am doing my best to restore it, but I do not have my ruby as of yet and I feel I cannot complete my tasks until I have it."

"No, my lord, it is not The Dreaming she took issue with."

Dream looked confused and he shook his head passionately. "Then what could have possibly driven her away?"

Lucienne was quiet, afraid to upset her master further.

"Please, Lucienne, if you know something, speak."

"Sir, you have been very busy, both with the rebuilding of the kingdom and the search for your tools." She paused. "Perhaps you have been a bit too busy."

His look was pure annoyance...the audacity of her to think that he would have ever forgotten about you... Realization dawned on his face and his expression softened tremendously. "I have neglected her in my haste to repair the damage caused by my absence."

Lucienne nodded slowly, allowing Dream to come to his own conclusions.

"She was by my side through every moment of the last century, every painful part of it, she was there like a guiding light, the brightest soul I have ever encountered. How could I have let her feel this way? As if she is unimportant to me."

Lucienne knew better than to answer his question. It was not really meant for her anyway. "Perhaps, my lord, you should seek her out in the waking world?"

He knew the search for his ruby should take priority, but his heart ached at your absence. He did not wish to return to a realm without you in it, regardless of the presence of all his tools. "I believe you are right, Lucienne. I must find her."

Lucienne was slightly surprised that he admitted she was right, but she could not help but feel joy that he wished to seek you out.

"Can you, I mean, in my absence will you--?" Dream could not seem to find the words he wanted.

Lucienne smiled. "Of course, my lord."

He knew she would understand, as she always did. He pulled a small handful of sand from his pouch and disappeared into the waking world, desperate to find the hope he had lost.

**********

It felt good to be in the waking world, to be free to do whatever you wished. You loved the way the sunlight felt against your skin, the breeze in your hair...all the things you had missed in your century of captivity. None of it, however, could fill the emptiness in your heart, emptiness only a certain Endless could fill.

You were sitting on a park bench, enjoying the beautiful summer day, when you noticed someone sit down beside you. You did not need to turn your head to know who it was. "Teleute," you said warmly. "It has been far too long."

"Indeed it has. How are you, (Y/N)?"

You turned to look at your friend, her expression telling you she knew exactly how you were doing. "I spent the last century in captivity, Death. How do you think I am?"

Death winced at your tone and you sighed, feeling bad for snapping at her. She did not deserve such venom...she was not the Endless you were upset with. "My apologies, Teleute."

Death waved off your apology. "Unnecessary. I understand why you would be upset. You have every right to be."

"In all honesty, it is not the captivity that has me in this mood."

"Ahh," Death said as she sat back against the bench. "The moodiest of all the Endless got to you too?"

Your head whipped towards her, surprise evident in your expression. "Excuse me?"

Death smiled. "My dear brother, Dream. I assume he is the cause of your mood?"

"How do you know...?"

"Oh, please, (Y/N). You should know by now...I know everything."

You shook your head. "I think that is unlikely, Teleute, even for you. You know, Burgess was looking for you when he captured us."

Death nodded, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "I know."

"I will not ask you why you did not help us. I think that is something I already know. I also understand why Burgess was able to capture Dream, but why me? What did I have to do with it? I'm not an Endless."

"It is nothing more than a theory, but I believe that is entirely my fault. When I saved your life, granted you immortality, I left a piece of my soul with you. That small piece of me lives within you, and I believe is what caused you to be snared by his spell."

You allowed yourself a moment to absorb her words. Her theory made sense, but it did not provide you much comfort. "100 years is a long time, even for an immortal," you began softly. "I cannot even begin to imagine how terrible it would have been to spend those years alone. While I would give anything for Dream to have never experienced such agony, I am glad to have been there with him."

Death laid her hand on yours. "I am sure he feels the same way."

You gave her a look that clearly voiced your disagreement. "If he felt the same way, do you think I would be moping on this park bench in the middle of London?"

Death chuckled. "My brother is moody at the best of times, and downright sullen at the worst. It may take him a moment or two to realize he cannot be that way with you, but I do think he will come to that realization. You are good for him, and I think, perhaps, he could be good for you." As if sensing something, Death stood suddenly. "I must go, (Y/N)."

You stood and gave her a hug. "Do not be a stranger, Teleute."

"Never," she said with a smile. "Do not give up on him. He is a pain in the behind, but his love is worth it. I promise." With that, Death disappeared as if she had never been there at all.

You sat back down on the bench, mulling over your friend's words. You desperately wanted to believe her, but if she was right, then where was Dream now?

As if you had personally summoned him, the dream lord himself appeared on the bench beside you, jolting you out of your thoughts. "Good lord!" you yelped.

He winced. "My apologies, I did not intend to startle you."

"Well then do not magically appear beside people without warning, Dream." You placed a hand over your heart and slowly calmed your breathing. "If I were a mortal, you could have given me a heart attack."

"Thankfully, you are not."

You turned to look at him and were surprised to find a sadness in his eyes. A sadness that mimicked your own. "How did you find me?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you truly think there is anywhere you could go where I would not feel you?"

Your lips parted in surprise and words failed you. "I--uh--well, I--"

He turned his body to face you, tentatively reaching out to take your hand in his. "I wish to know why you left."

"You were a bit preoccupied with more important things than me, Dream."

"Nothing is more important than you. Not me, nor my tools, nor even my realm. You are the part of me I have always sought, without even realizing it. You are the light to my darkness, the other half of my soul that I have yearned for throughout all of space and time. You are the hope that saved me in the darkest moments of my life, and for that I will treasure you always."

If you had a hard time speaking before, you were completely mute now, as if words were utterly foreign to you. You simply stared at the man in front of you in stunned silence. A silence so long, he began to worry.

"(Y/N)?" he asked softly. "Have I upset you?"

"Gods, no," you said quickly, recovering from your moment of muteness. You took both of his hands in yours and gave them a loving squeeze. "You simply took me by surprise, Dream."

"Will you call me by my name?" he asked softly, eyes filled with hope.

You looked confused. "Is Dream not your name?"

"It is, but much in the way you know Death as Teleute, I wish you to know me by my name."

"What name would that be?"

"Morpheus," he replied.

"I should have known that," you said with a chuckle. "Morpheus. Hmm, I quite like it."

He blushed slightly. "Thank you. I enjoy hearing you say it."

"Then I will have to remember to say it often," you paused dramatically before leaning forward and whispering, "Morpheus."

His body shuddered involuntarily and you grinned. He gave you a warning look, but you were much too happy to care.

"May I ask you something?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course."

"Is there any way, any world, any universe, in which you might feel the same?"

If Morpheus did not know you, you would worry he might think you were a bumbling idiot. You were once again stunned to silence by the dream lord's words...as if there was a universe in which you did not feel the same.

"First, stop saying things that render me speechless," you insisted. "Second, do you really need to ask? I would walk through Hellfire for you, Morpheus. There is not a battle I would not fight, nor a danger I would not face, if it meant protecting you. You are my heart, in every meaning of the word."

Now it was his turn to be speechless. Though he was much quicker to recover than you. "I am undeserving of such adoration, beloved, but I shall do everything in my power to earn it."

You smiled and gently touched his cheek. "You already have, my love. You already have."

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #morpheus x reader fluff #fluff #angst #dream of the endless #morpheus

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moorishflower · 1 year

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So are Dream and Death still siblings in your siren!Dream au?

yes and no! yes, in that Death is sibling to EVERYONE. and mother, and daughter, and friend. but is she the same thing as Dream? no. is she SIMILAR? yes! my kind of vague headcanon is that they share some distant ancestry, that somewhere far back when Night and Time had children, they had Death and Destiny and Destruction, and then further along the line Night had other children NOT with Time, and from that lineage sprung up Desire, Despair, and Delirium. It's all very Greek lineage sort of thing lol.

A whale has fallen.

In the deep depths, in the crushing dark, where no light touches, where air vents from heated cracks within the stone, the whale drifts down. Somewhere within its cavernous chest a heart still beats, thready and inconsistent, struggling, as all living things struggle, to keep going. Until the last. Until the final breath. The great undoing.

Endless Dream follows its path with interest. A whale is a fine gift from the sea, and though it's not a sacrifice to him, he will gladly partake of its flesh when it settles.

He is hungry. Has been hungry, for the past few days, his stomach shrinking and clawing, his teeth made wet with wanting. Yet fish have held no interest for him -- stupid, flickering things, easy to catch, easy to swallow whole. There is no challenge to the hunting of them. There have been no challenges for many ebbing and flowing of the tides.

Until the man.

The man who'd walked into the sea, who'd made of himself a fine meal for sharks, who Dream had pulled into his grotto thinking that it had been long since he had tasted the flesh of humans, and this one was still warm, even, still soft and nearly living, and then the man had breathed. Gouted water from his lungs, with Dream's teeth still sunk into the tender meat of his limb, and the blood in his mouth had been so hot. Not the blood of a fresh corpse, but sweet and living and vital. It had slid down his throat like a wriggling eel, made a nest in his gullet, curled around and around, and now his stomach is bloated with the emptiness of it. With the severity of how much he wants.

The man had been dead. He'd seen it. He'd known it. And then the man was alive.

He follows the path of the whale, until it settles on a rocky shelf near the deep dark, and there the scavengers emerge. Dream watches them but does not see them. All of his focus is upon the whale, its massive eye, its laboring heart.

It takes long minutes for the eye to go blank, but when it does, Dream reaches for it immediately, carves into the socket and wicks away the bone with practiced claws. The eye pops free into his palm, ragged, full of succulent flavor. He does not bite.

"Teleute," he calls out, his voice a ripple in the water, "here, for you, an offering. Choice flesh. Sweetness."

"You know you don't have to do that," he hears, and swings around, and smiles with his skin, a flare of sunset yellow that licks along his cheeks and splashes cheerful upon the scavengers below.

"I know," he says, and holds out to Death the eye, and, after a long moment, she takes it from him. All of her forms are beautiful, but Dream is proud and selfish, and thinks this form most pleasing of all: her night-dark skin glowing from within with radiant luminescence, speckles of silver that dot her cheeks like freckles, her long and shapely tail, the bright-lit lure that hangs before her sharp and smiling mouth.

"How goes the ocean?" she asks, rolling the eye between her palms, and Dream slips forward through the drifting current, lets it carry him gently onwards. The whale holds little interest now. Perhaps he will return later, and dig into its soft belly, and at last sate his hunger.

He thinks nothing can sate this hunger.

"It goes," he says, and Death laughs.

"Well, you called to me for something, little one."

Dream's tentacles writhe and grasp. One reaches for his own hand, instinctive in its desire to hold, and he allows it. Lets the searching suckers kiss between his fingers, and remembers the warmth of the man beneath his many limbs.

"There was a man," he says, and Death tilts her head, and the lure bobs appealingly. "I watched him drown. I took him to my grotto to eat. And then he came back. He breathed again."

"Did he have kind eyes?" Death asks, and Dream does not know how to quantify the kindness of eyes, and so says nothing. "A sweet voice? Dark brown hair?"

"His blood was warmth and light," Dream offers, and Death laughs.

"Probably Robert Gadling, then. I think he's the only immortal who's at sea right now. How did he take to dying?"

"He was on an island. He walked into the sea."

"Ah, bad luck, there. Wonder who marooned him."

"He is one of yours? Then I will not touch him." The thought is unbearable agony. He had followed the man down into the depths -- he had dragged his body to the safety of his grotto. He set his teeth into the sweet flesh. By rights, the man is his.

But Death is so much older. So much more than him. If she has claimed him...

"You can do whatever you like," she says, and Dream feels the effervescent lilt of bubbles in his breast. "I mean, I don't know if he cares to be eaten. But Hob makes his own choices. He'll find you again, if he wants to spend time with you."

"Spend time," Dream repeats.

"Yeah, he's a bit of a romantic, I think. That's the feeling I got, anyways. I warned him that immortality was going to make him a bit spotty in the head, but now I'm wondering if he's always been that way, and this is the best thing for him."

"Then he cannot die?"

"Not unless he asks for it."

They drift together for a time, in companionable silence. Death brings the eye to her mouth, and when she bites it releases plumes of blood and humor into the sea; Dream tastes it with his skin, the richness of it, can imagine the firm crunch and the soft jelly inside.

It holds no interest. His stomach begs for sunlit warmth, for the tang of copper and iron, for the one that Death calls Hob.

"Thank you for answering my call," he says at last, and Death holds out the other half of the eye, raising her brows. Dream shakes his head.

"If you stay in one place," she says, her voice teasing and sweet, "he'll find you again."

"You think so?"

"Oh, yes. He cheated at our card game. I think he's never seen something dangerous that he didn't end up wanting with his whole heart. And there's nothing more dangerous in the sea than you."

"Flattery."

"Truth. From one child of monsters to another."

Dream clicks his teeth, and he is proud, and he is selfish, and he is, stupidly, pleased. The thought that Hob Gadling might return, and think him interesting, and perhaps bring with him his rich-golden blood and the taut muscles of his limbs, and if Dream is sweet, perhaps, if Dream makes himself pleasing, if he brings to Hob the beautiful things of the sea, smooth coral and sunken treasures, perhaps, perhaps, Hob will let him taste of him again, will let a bite become a kiss...

Death laughs. "Oh, you two are going to be fun to watch. Pursue him with my blessing, Endless Dream."

"Thank you," Dream says. His skin flickers in shades of red and pink, before settling, at last, again, to white. "Sister. Grandmother. Family. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she says. "I don't need to know what you two get up to."

Dream nods, and takes the other half of the whale's eye at last. When he bites into it, the juice is sweet and lovely on his tongue, and it is not what he wants, but now he knows.

He only has to wait, and the longing cramp in his belly will at last be appeased.

#siren au #dreamling #death of the endless #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #fanfic #tw cannibalism #tw animal death

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kittynannygaming · 2 months

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[The Sandman] Bound - Chapter 3

Title: Bound

Word count: 426

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dreamling, Desunity, Despoe, Hob/Eleanor, Corinthiel, Dream/Past relationships

Rated: T

Warning: NOTHING GRAPHIC BUT Mention of child’s death and adults’ death, mention of suicide, Desire’s scheming

Summary: When you’re 10 (for a human) or the equivalent (for not-human), you’re given (during your sleep) a pet, representation of your soulmate. Thing is, both soulmates need to be born for them to appear. Dream of the Endless thought he didn’t have a soulmate, until a puppy appear near to him while meditating. On Earth, at the same moment, it is the year 1356 and Robert ‘Hob’ Gadling is just born. When he’s 10, he got the poshest, biggest black kitten with a very mean streak. Of course, neither Dream nor Hob see themselves in the other’s pet.

Chapter 03: The (many) reasons why Death is playing matchmaker to her brother.

Death want her baby brother to be happy. He doesn’t make it easy.

Death loved her siblings, all of them, even if sometime Destiny and her shared a lovely cup of tea in his Garden and complained about little siblings and the headaches they are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a favourite. Dream had so much love to give, he needed someone who could give the love and attention that he craved. And also, someone who could understand that it’s not because he was busy that he didn’t love them anymore. Talk about a rarity!

She (finally! After years of nagging!) got him to follow her in the Waking and to spent some time together. They went in Great-Britain, in London. It was a tavern called the White Horse (one of her favourite animal) when they met him: Hob Gadling. Well, Dream and Kelly, his companion, met him. That was when she saw them, Hob’s companion: a gigantic black cat who looked everyone like they were below them. The cat even had the blue eyes that Dream wear when in human form.

‘This is, indeed, very good! My brother will finally be happy!!’

Death squealed inside her head: he was Dream’s soulmate! She was so sure! Anytime now they were going to recognize each other and everything was going to be as perfect as it could be. She could see Kelly and the feline companion come to her.

“Lady Death, this is Fluffy, Hob Gadling’s companion.” The gigantic cat bowed to her.

“It is a pleasure to meet the sister of my companion’s soulmate.” She smiled at him. Even the voice thing! Ah! So cute!

“I’m so overjoyed to meet you and, I hope, Hob soon, as well.”

Dream and Hob were eye-fucking and taunting each other. At least, they wouldn’t have any problem from this side. Death squealed again. This was going way better than she thought. Kelly and Fluffy were looking too, waiting with a bated breath the moment they would declare they were soulmates.

Dream walked away from Hob, who was following him with his eyes and a smile.

“What? What happened? Didn’t they know they’re soulmates?” Fluffy and Kelly were looking each other, unbelieving.

“Well, we have our work cut out for us, haven’t we?” complained the great cat.

“Yep! This is going to be a blast.” sighed the guard dog. Kelly followed his companion, eager to learn what the hell happened.

Death thought that, maybe, she could have explained a thing or two to her little brother and maybe she should have come clean to him. Ah! Bugger!

Beta: In progress

For @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang

Masterlist

#KittyNanny Original Post #KittyNanny Original Work #The Sandman #Centennial Husbands Big Bang #Centennial Husbands Big Bang 2023 #Dream of the Endless|Morpheus #Death of the Endless|Teleute #Robert “Hob” Gadling #Dream of the Endless|Morpheus/Robert “Hob” Gadling #Dreamling

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tampire · 2 years

Photo

“Was I really that obvious?”

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skinnywalker · 11 months

Note

Death Of The Endless x Male Reader plz?

Could be something wholesome with some fluff and flirting like where the reader wants to dance with a pretty looking woman who for some reason looks abit familiar, not knowing that is actually Death herself.

(also it could be in some random party, disco party, or somewhere it's playing some nice music idk)

Thanks and have nice day 👋

😖 that's such a cute prompt!!

♤ A kind and familiar face ♤ (Death of the endless x male reader)

He hasn't seen her before. He js positive of it. He wouldn't miss a face that unearthly beautiful. He feels drain to her.

"Hello, I haven't seen you her before, are you new in the area?"

She turns to him, her eyes are like a midnight sky splashed with bits of oak trees.

"No."

He us surprised.

"Wait really? How long have you lived here?"

She smiles.

"I don't."

"Wait really? You look so familiar..."

She smiles.

"Most people know me."

"I see, you just come around here a lot huh?"

She nods.

"So, do you have a dance partner?"

"No I'm afraid not."

"Could I change that?"

"You know what? I'd love that."

They join hands and wlak together to the dance floor.

"I don't even know your name."

"Teleute."

"That's beautiful, is it greek?"

She grins.

"Something like that."

"It's quite a classical name, you must like it."

"I do."

They continue to sway in eachothers arms. He notices how cold she feels.

"You know it's odd, when I went to talk to you it seemed that no one was there."

They stop.

"Like no one could see you."

"They can't."

"What?"

Her hands suddenly warm in his.

"I came here for you."

He suddenly recognizes her.

"You."

"Me."

"Wow."

He can't speak. He isn't scared but he is confused.

"Why?"

"It's your time but I'll tell you that this was nice. I'd like to spend more time with you."

He sees the world fading away.

"I'd like that."

#death x reader #death of the endless #the sandman x reader #the sandman #death #death of the endless x reader

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emptyscrolls · 1 year

Text

#dc #dcu #dream of the endless #morpheus #teleute #mania #death of the endless #delirium of the endless #the sandman

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year

Text

𓅨 Fortuna: Chapter Six

Fortuna: Born with what seemed to be the worst luck in the world, you have managed to get into, and out of, life-threatening situations all your life. That is until the plague of 1514. You had escaped Mother Death countless times before, but not this time. Mother Death has taken a liking to you, and with your kindling relationship, you become that which historians whisper about. You are the great Fortuna, Goddess Incarnate of luck, and ruler over fortune and fate. No one could have anticipated what your ties with Death would bring you: Pain. Torture. Death. Love.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Contents (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Loss of Virginity, Hints at Dream’s Secret Desires (He Horny For U, K!?).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x ImmortalSpanish!Reader, Reader’s nickname is Fortuna. Fortuna is the Roman Goddess of personified luck and ruler over fortune and fate.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

February 1927

Morpheus held you close, soaking in the comfort you provided and giving you the same in return. It wasn’t often you were inconsolable, but captivity combined with Jessamy’s death had worn your spirit down to the point where you had begun to feel hopeless. It broke him to see you in such a state after you had remained so strong for the last ten years, but this last year had been the hardest. Little you, who had remained steadfast and stubborn, refusing Burgess’ demands, was beginning to crack. So when you fell into your dreams this night, Morpheus joined you in your old bedroom and wrapped you up in an embrace that he hoped staved off the emotional pain you felt. You were trembling in his arms, and he hated it. Hated that it was Roderick Burgess who had put so much strain and anguish on you that you physically shook… and what he hated the most was that the spark of fire that simmered behind your eyes was nearly snuffed out. You were meant to be free, to wander, to explore, you were never meant to be trapped in place.

“Fortuna, the next time he comes, you are to give him what he wants,” Morpheus spoke into your hair, your beautiful hair that he loved to gently comb when you and he had the privacy of your dreams. You hadn’t been able to cut it since the start of your captivity and it had grown beyond manageable length. At least you were more comfortable in your dreams. In fact, on several occasions, he had followed your wish to cut it to a more manageable length at the start of your dreams. He had already done so silently at the start of this one.

“I will never give him what he desires.” You croaked out, your words muffled from where you had buried your face into his chest. “I do not answer to greed nor is it within my power to give him that which he desires of me. Teleute gave me immortality, not the power of the Gods.”

“I can enable you to do as he thinks of you, my Tyche,” Morpheus responded, drawing a hand down your back. “You can be Fortuna Goddess Incarnate. My Fortuna, my Tyche.”

“I will not give a man such as he, the pleasure of breaking me, Morpheus.” You bit back with a snarl on your lips, your fingers curling against his shirt at the idea.

“It would earn you your freedom from this cage, Fortuna,” Morpheus said lowly, not liking your resistance. “I will not have you suffering in that enclosed place any longer.” His voice was a growl, clearly showing that he wanted you out of captivity as soon as possible.

“And I refuse to leave without you, Morpheus.” You stated firmly, pulling back to look up into his eyes. You reached up and cupped his face, your fingers stroking his cheek. “As long as you remain, so shall I.” His eyes glowed with mercury discontent but you remained firm with your decision. You had long since fallen for the Endless and the thought of being separated terrified you. Morpheus needed to know how you felt, and how much you did not wish to be separated. Silent looks of longing were no longer permissible. “I know you are not going to give in to him, mi Amor, no matter how long it may take. I will not leave you.” The blazing novas in his eyes softened and his forehead bent to press against yours. His touch trailed across your hair to brush along your cheek.

His touch was all that kept you from losing your mind in that decrepit basement, and it was he at night that gave you comfort and reprieve from captivity. Morpheus knew that you wouldn’t change your mind, not after over ten years of intimacy and closeness. You would never willingly leave him. How many years had he spent silently yearning for more than soft teases and smiles that warmed his heart? Morpheus had decided long ago that he wanted you to be his, but he would never take advantage of your captivity to indulge in his desires so he had always remained stoic, observing you from the sidelines… but here you were, begging him not to ask you do such a thing. Mi Amor. Mi Amor. Mi Amor. When had you started thinking of him as your mi Amor? It mattered not, Morpheus couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

Pulling your face closer to his and bumping noses, Morpheus tilted your head and captured your lips for the first time since he had set eyes on you. Your soft mouth was like nothing he had kissed before. You shuddered against Morpheus and struggled to return the kiss, pressing upwards against his lips. You had never desired to kiss anyone in your life, no boy or man had ever had the luxury, but at this moment you were desperate for the abating and revivifying kisses that pressed against your lips. Only Morpheus could have this right to your body.

Your lips broke apart for a moment, you and Morpheus breathing in each other’s dizzying scents. Eyes opening, you met Morpheus’s gaze with a trembling breath, easily getting lost in the galaxies that flickered in intense blue. Your mouth brushed against his once more, bringing out the most delightful sensations across your lips. A few more moments of silence passed before Morpheus was returning his mouth to yours, nipping and tugging at your lips, twisting you up into a haze. You felt so inexperienced and clumsy, and yet, found that it was easy to relax into his kisses and desiring demands. Your parted mouth pressed back, catching his lower lip and gently tugging. That had an immediate impact on Morpheus, his hands running over your shoulders and fingers rapidly unraveling the shoulder bows of your kirtle. Your bodice fell loose and Morpheus’s hands then slid to the ties at the base of your corset.

You let out a shuddering breath against Morpheus’s hungry lips and dragged your nails down his shoulder. He had your corset untied incredibly fast and the heavy fabric of your kirtle slipped from your body to pool at your feet. You were now only wearing your chemise which offered little protection against the cold temperature of your room. That only pushed you closer to Morpheus as you tugged on his shirt, pushing it upwards with your fingers to lay your hands flat against his warm skin. That heat was so addicting, you wanted more, you demanded more, and that is exactly what Morpheus gave you. Morpheus effortlessly picked you up, his hands digging into your flesh and carrying you over to your small bed, all the while your mouths not once parting. Upon leaning back into your mattress, you pushed your hands up and over his shoulders to sink your nails into his shirt and pulled. Morpheus broke your lip lock, reaching to take your chin and press his thumb into your tingling lower lip. A message passed through his eyes to yours.

“Por favor, mi Amor, te necesito,” (Please, my love, I need you.) You whispered out, drawing your fingers and further bunching the shirt on his back. Morpheus needed no further confirmation from you, urgently dropping his lips back to yours and kissing you passionately. You melted beneath him, led on by little nibbles and deep kisses that sought to ravish every part of your lips. He was kissing you with such feeling and passion that you felt like he was stealing oxygen from your lungs. Breaking the lip lock, you took a moment to drag Morpheus’s shirt the rest of the way up. He let you rip it from his body before ripping at the buttons of your chemise himself, eager to bare your opulent flesh that he had cradled and protected for over a decade.

Morpheus knew every dip and curve, dimple, and scar that marked your body. He had held you ever so close but never had the chance to explore such wonders with his hands. He intended to rectify that immediately. While you ran your hands over his chest he did the same with your body, pushing and pulling at your chemise until he had it sliding out from beneath your bare body. You were bare to him but you had no shame or embarrassment about your nudity, after all, you had clung to him for warmth for the past decade. What hadn’t he seen? But Morpheus had never had the luxury to appreciate what he cradled and protected from the guards and cold. No, he had been resigned to a state of expressionlessness. But here in your dream, Morpheus could ravish your body to his heart's content, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

His mouth landed on your shoulder and pressed kiss after kiss along your skin, slowly moving inwards and down to your collarbone. You softly moaned, running your fingers up his sculpted chest and stroking them across his cheek. While Morpheus suckled at your flesh, his hands landed on your hips and pushed upwards, pressing into your skin in a way that made it so his touch lingered long after his fingers had moved on. Then his hands caressed your breasts, stroking them and massaging them in a way that made you moan and arch into his touch. You slipped your hands under his arms and pulled Morpheus closer to you. A surge of fire flooded throughout your body, running up and down your spine and gathering between your legs. You softly whimpered at the foreign feeling.

Morpheus could feel your pulse fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird beneath the beautiful skin of your neck, fast, hot, and full of life. The surge of life throbbed beneath his lips and that only made the Endless want you more. But why did you wish to suffer with him?

“Why do you not see how I care for you?” Morpheus rasped, trailing his lips across your jaw. He reached up and cupped the back of your neck, angling your head so you were looking into his eyes. Your lips brushed against his as you froze in place. “Do you not see through my affection, my love, my veneration? It is my greatest desire to set you free yet you shirk my reverence for spite and refusal.” You trembled beneath star-filled eyes that gazed down at you with tinges of sadness. Did he think that after all this time, you merely disagreed with him on the subject because of spite? Now was your only chance to come clean with the Endless.

“Estoy enamorada de ti.” (I'm in love with you.) You whispered against his lips, your lips trembling as your heart flooded with uncertainty. Morpheus’s irises dilated and he stilled to a statue. “Cada día te quiero mas. Eres mi todo, Dream of the Endless.” (Every day I love you more. You are my everything, Dream of the Endless.) Perhaps your sudden confession had been too much because the seconds after you had finished speaking seemed to stretch into years. Your heart was trying to race out of your chest waiting for his response. Then blue eyes shifted to molten mercury and you found yourself stumbling as Morpheus moved. Even before your back hit the straw mattress of your bed his lips were on yours.

Morpheus ravished your lips, firm and insistent, scorched with need. His tongue carved a line of tingles across your lower lip and you gasped against the explosion of tingles in your mouth. Morpheus gave your lower lip a hungry nibble as you panted and then urged your lips to open wider to push his tongue against yours. He pulled a soft moan from you, then shifted his hand to brush his thumb across your cheek, enjoying the way you responded to his deep kisses with gentle innocence. Morpheus supposed he should feel guilt for corrupting you in such a manner, but he couldn’t stop himself, not when you tasted so sweet, not when you looked so desirable beneath him. Not when he had wanted you to be his for so long. Twirling his tongue against yours one last time, his impatience to feel you grew far too much to bear.

His lips parted yours and you eagerly sucked in oxygen, eyes fluttering at Morpheus as you reeled from the tongue-tying kiss he had spun you up into. Your cheeks were flushed and your chest heaved. You felt a complete mess, you turned into a complete mess… but Morpheus had never seen you looking so beautiful. With devouring eyes, Morpheus bent back down, mouthing a trail of fire along your collarbone to the hollow of your throat, drawing soft noises from your parted lips. You sank one of your hands into obsidian hair, fresh pleads on your lips.

“Please, mi Amor, I am burning,” You begged, for what, you didn’t know. You just knew that your body burned with a fire of desire and need you thought might consume you if not doused. A hum of satisfaction slipped from Morpheus’s lips as he moved to adore your breasts, licking and mouthing at your heaving flesh as your legs twisted against his trousers. “Me quemo por ti,” (I burn for you.) You gasped as he teased a nipple, sealing his mouth against it. It was his deepest and darkest desire to see you round with his child, your breast full of milk, ready to feed the life he and you created. Morpheus put his darkest desires aside, right now you burned and he longed to feel you wrapped around his cock. Morpheus released your breast and raised softly glowing eyes to yours.

“Do you desire this, my Tyche? Do you desire my touch? Do want me to fill you with my cock, to take your innocence, your body, and soul, claim them as mine?” Your beautiful eyes, wide and stricken with pleasure and daze, fluttered, as you brought your hand up to settle it against his face. Your fingers made shivers run up Morpheus’s spine. He prayed to the Universe that you would say yes.

“Quiero que me hagas el amor.” (I want you to make love to me.) You breathed out, your eyes reflecting your words. “Quiero que seas mío y quiero ser tuya.” (I want you to be mine and I want to be yours.) It was as if the stars has designed to aline on this very day just to grant Morpheus his wish. Eyes still blazing brilliant silver, Morpheus let his hands wander over your body, feeling the heat that burned beneath your skin. You said you burned, and he knew you burned for him. Unable to resist the temptation any further, Morpheus ran a hand over your breasts, down your stomach, and then into your patch of curls. Your hips bucked up at the intimate touch. Then Morpheus pushed his fingers through your folds to stroke your cunt. You let out a strangled gasp at his touch, one of your hands dropping to grasp at your bedsheet. Never before had you been touched like this, but oh did it feel ever so wonderful.

Your eyes rolled back slightly while you moaned and bucked your hips further into his hand. He drank in the sight of you washed with pleasure, arching, moaning as if every little touch Morpheus gave you was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was. Then he sank his finger deep within your cunt and a sharp little cry escaped your lips. Your walls were hot and velvety, clenching around Morpheus’s finger as he stroked your body from within. You squirmed against him, your fingers sliding down Morpheus’s neck and your nails lightly raking over his flesh. The sweet little noises you made only spurred him on further, your honey-soaked moans and trembling thighs feeding his desire to see you in a state of utter bliss. You fell apart beneath him quickly, your cunt soon soaked and Morpheus’s fingers sliding in and out of your body with wet, slippery, sounds that only made more heat flood your face.

“Mi Amor, Te Necesito,” You moaned, your nails scraping his neck as your eyes fluttered up into Morpheus’s. You caressed and stroked his neck, and Morpheus couldn’t help but lower his chin and kiss your fingers. Such sweet begging from your lips, who was he to deny you? So Morpheus pulled back, his fingers sliding from your swollen flesh. You let out a mournful whimper at the loss. Morpheus quickly pressed his lips against your neck, whispering reassurances that he would not leave you in such a needing state. With his gentle words slipping across your skin, Morpheus brushed his lips up your jaw until intense blue eyes bored into yours. What you were feeling for him within your heart was nearly robbing you of the oxygen in your lungs. Then you felt the material of his trousers melt away and his naked body fully pressed against yours. You quivered at the feeling, your soft body welcoming Morpheus’s sculpted one.

Morpheus gently stroked your face, his eyes never once leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your swollen folds and cunt. Oh, you ached to be filled terribly, why was he dragging out this torture? You were mid-thought, thinking about speaking up when he started pushing into you, slow and gentle. Your eyes went wide and your hips twitched at the intrusion, then you gasped the moment his hips met yours and your body struggled to accept his length. You couldn’t help the tears that burned at the edge of your lashes. Morpheus’s lips were immediately kissing them away, his tongue praising you in a language you didn’t understand. He was nothing but gentle with you, always so gentle, treating your body as if it were a precious treasure. To him, you were the most precious thing in his endless life.

Against your quivering thighs, Morpheus could feel your body twisting against his, begging for more. From the way your cunt was clenching and squeezing his cock, it took Morpheus everything he had to not take your body aggressively, like an animal. He wanted to viciously rut against you to sate this hunger, he wanted to devour your tender flesh until you fell apart, he wanted to ravage your body until he broke every seam and stitch that held you together. But you, little you, were so innocent and ignorant of the pleasures of the human body. Morpheus refused to break you apart like any other human male would have, no, he was going to have you break yourself apart by your own will. Watching as your hollowed throat constricted and relaxed in time with your haggard breathing, Morpheus couldn’t help but press his lips against your pulse and seal his mouth there, tasting your skin and marking it in possession. Your breathing hitched beneath his mouth and he felt fingernails sink into his back and push him closer. You wanted him, you wanted him so much. Morpheus couldn’t hold back any longer.

He drew back from your cunt, feeling your walls desperately clinging to his cock with such force that he groaned into your neck. When Morpheus sank his throbbing cock back into your body, you gasped and scratched at his back. His cock pushed through your walls with a rawness that burned, and yet, there was a second more profound sensation that you wanted to chase. Pleasure. In all your years of living, you had never experienced something like this, an intimacy that made you feel connected to Morpheus on another level.

As Morpheus settled into a gentle rocking motion that made your breath hitch with every thrust, you pressed your fingers into the contours of his back and traced the hard lines. Your eyes fluttered as he claimed your body, over and over, never once ceasing the kisses he pressed against your skin. But in this intimate moment that you only ever share with Morpheus, you wanted to see his eyes. So you grasped onyx hair in your fingers and dragged his head away from your heaving chest so magnetic stars stared into yours. You both panted, breathing each other with heated cheeks. The world could spin, around and around, and your eyes would never stray from him. Morpheus looked as if he has been formed from the stars themselves, sculpted and formed with the idea of perfection in mind.

“Qué guapo eres,” (You are so beautiful.) You whispered against his lips, overtaken by the beauty of your lover draped over you. Morpheus closed the millimeters separating your lips, taking your mouth like a rogue storm. You moaned into that kiss, feeling an inferno streaking through your cunt and sparking the churning feeling within your body. It was hard for you to keep up and you found yourself writhing beneath him, a leg curled around his lower back and your nails digging into his flesh. He twisted your tongue with his, nipped at your lips, and breathed his love into you until you were writhing uncontrollably against him. You were a scene of utter bliss and Morpheus drank that in, his eyes glowing with the strength of a million suns.

“They call you Fortuna, Goddess Incarnate?” Morpheus possessively questioned against your lips. You shuddered and gasped at how rough his thrusts now came. Hard. Driving. Deep. You could barely breathe as his cock plunged deep within your body, claiming it, ruining you for all others. “I shall make you my goddess,my Y/N, my goddess of fortune. Mine.” You felt something crawling across your skin, enveloping your body, soaking into your skin with an electric hum. Your body bucked harshly against Morpheus’s, your nails sinking so hard into his flesh that he could feel pain. Morpheus knew that your body wasn’t going to easily accept the gift he was forcing into you. So silver eyes going nova, he wrapped you in his magic and pressed his gift into you. You shrieked, overwhelmed by the sensations bombarding you in every direction, and that tension within your body finally exploded.

You shattered to stardust.

Staring out the tiny window of your room, you gazed at the brightened sky illuminated by the full moon with a vacant look in your eyes. Morpheus had been brushing his hand through your hair and down your back since he had rolled onto his back, bringing you with him. Neither of you had spoken a word since coming down from the high of your carnal devotion, and you were almost afraid to speak… because you knew what he was going to ask of you. In your lovemaking, Morpheus, with all his power and might, had molded you into what he saw you to be: Y/N, Goddess of fate, fortune, and luck… but you wouldn’t disappear like the other Gods before you. Faded and Forgotten. You would be eternal. You didn’t mind being eternally his, your passion and ardor for the Endless, was in fact, endless. But you know exactly what he wanted of you, and that was something you refused with absolution. It was Morpheus who finally broke the silence.

“Why do you still refuse to do as I ask, my Tyche? You know you would be treated better if you do as he bids, you may not be entirely free but you would no longer be confined so tightly.” Morpheus said. You turned your face further into his chest and remained quiet for a few moments. You wanted this little bubble of ecstasy to last forever, to stave off the reality in which you truly lived. But you couldn’t hide from your Endless lover, so you answered, ever so slowly tilting your head back against his chest to look at him in the eyes.

“You know why,” You whispered faintly, a tinge of pain creeping into your voice. The pain of what you knew would come if you agreed. “Please don’t ask me to do such a thing.” Morpheus’s hold on your body tightened, his clear disagreement with your wants evident enough. You were almost worried that he would start arguing with you and break the moment of private intimacy, but he didn’t. Morpheus continued his strokes along your back, soaking in your soft skin and committing it to memory, enjoying the feel of you while he could. “If I am to be trapped, I shall be trapped with you. I beg you, mi Amor, don’t let him take me away from you. You are the only solace feel in these entrapped times.”

Your pleas to never part with him ripped what little heart Morpheus had left and it nearly destroyed him. You’d rather spend an eternity trapped in this little glass ball with him, bare and cold, than give in to the demands of the self-entitled mortal in exchange for a scrap of freedom. Morpheus knew he might not be able to keep such a promise, not when Roderick Burgess kept him so weak and confined. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his best to protect you from your captor. You, after all, were the light in these dark times and Morpheus was determined to keep you safe.

“I promise you, my Tyche, I will never willingly let him take you from me,” Morpheus promised, pressing his face into the crown of your hair. That put your mind at ease and you closed your eyes, willing yourself to enjoy the last few hours of this idyllic escape from reality. It wasn’t that hard. These dreams were the only time you truly felt comfortable, and stretched out on top of Morpheus’s body, your legs tangled with his, you soaked in the heat from his body while still feeling the ache and pleasure from your lovemaking. You would get through this, no matter how long it took, as long as you had Morpheus.

When you woke from your dream, you jerked in his arms, the cold of the basement once again shocking you. You shivered in his arms and your lips trembled as the high of your dream came crashing down. Turning your face into his shoulder, you squeezed your eyes shut as they burned from the reality which you now lived in. It took everything Morpheus had to not start rampaging against the glass cage the moment he felt warm tears hit his skin. His muscles physically strained and bulged as he fought against his instincts. Your tears were like little daggers being thrust into his heart. The physical pain he felt knowing that he could not comfort you when you needed him the most ripped at his anthropomorphic soul. All he could do was wait for the hours to pass by until you fell asleep once more, and he had a chance to once again hold you in his arms the way he truly wished to. Only then could he truly care for you. But for now, he had to bear the feeling of your hot tears hitting his skin and shivering trembles from your repressed sobs with an expressionless face. It was agony.

Date Published: 12/4/22

Last Edit: 12/4/22

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#morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman netflix

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xadoheandterra · 2 years

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Series: still waters run deep Title: Transitive Existence Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix + Comics semi-fusion), Danny Phantom Chapters: I Enablers: @demigodorion @azthedragon @kbobrian (because you three litereally went “do it” soooooo....) Characters: Death of the Endless | Teleute, Time, Clockwork, Danny Fenton (as a baby) Pairings: Night/Time (historical) Tags: How Not To Talk To Your Children, Time is an A+ Parent (sarcasm), Death is a good Big Sister, Baby Danny is Love, The Observants Are Assholes (with the occasional exception), Fucking With Canon For Fun, Fandom Fusion Summary: A New Endless is born, a new sibling of the Seven, a new child of Night and Time. This, predictably, has consequences. Not that Danny really cares. He’s just here to live his life and maybe make friends with these people who’ve been at this whole ‘Endless’ thing longer than he has. And okay maybe the idea of older siblings that aren’t Jazz is an interesting prospect and maybe being accepted by someone who understands is on that list somewhere.

Oh, and there might be something about rescuing a cosmic entity in there but whose counting?

...

Teleute was not sure what she expected when she felt the new-birth bloom in the back of her mind, but it certainly was not this. Baffled, silent, she stared down at the blue eyed dark haired babe that stared back up at her from his crib--his human crib, with his human parents, in this oh-so-human world--although the babe himself did not stay silent. He cooed instead, reached up to grasp at the strands of her hair that drifted free and left Teleute wondering. This boy was incomplete, a half-thought, half-finished little idea unsure of its own nature, own designation, and yet somehow so utterly human and whole in the same moment. She could feel the edges of her father and mother that hovered there, the shape of form that was to come--but at the same time she couldn't parse it. She was not Destiny; Potmos had always been the better at them in reading souls, even the 'souls' that comprised of them and their siblings. Death was merely the comforting sight, the friend at their side all their lives until their ends--and the psychopomp who guided them thereafter.

Quietly, reservedly, Teleute reached out her hand to the babe and watched as pale fingers grasped at her tight. Already so strong, already beyond the human ability and yet only hours old...she sighed, heavy and quiet in the air. Softly, gently, Death whispered to the infant, "Do not call for me unless you area ready, little one, and even then...even then, hesitate." Carefully she pulled her finger back, watched as the babe stared at her as she backed away--as his eyes scrunched up with tears, as he began to bawl. She said as she faded from all human sight, "I will watch you, little brother to be," before she left in a flutter of wings.

For the longest moment Teleute settled herself into her role of Death and guided soul after soul to the Sunless Lands. For a moment she put out of mind the little new-birth that heralded a new brother and focused on her work and role and Function. She did not need to, Teleute knew this. She could honestly say fuck it just like the Prodigal and step away from her position and let the souls guide themselves. It is not like the world would devolve into senseless, unending, undying life if she had. Teleute was not fool enough to believe that without her life, and death, would not find a way. Once, a long, long time ago she had even debated it, back in that moment when she realized the dichotomy of her existence meant even without her direct interference it would not end. Now she worked and guided and walked among the living with passion and purpose in her role to provide some measure of comfort to those lost. She could choose to be where she wanted, after all, and she knew every soul as well as she knew herself.

When the last soul that needed a friendly face had found their way, Death settled herself down on a park bench to stare up at the stars in the sky. She did not tell her siblings that often she slipped away after a day of work to just relax and enjoy herself. She had human friends and human interactions aplenty; she took time to herself, breaks to recenter, to resettle before she went back to work. In those hours sometimes she would try to see if she could unearth her brother's whereabouts, where the Prodigal had gone and vanished off to in an effort to drop him the latest invite to dinner. Sometimes she thought back on the petty squabbles she and her siblings got into, other time she would think of those long early days when Time and Night were there and tried to act as parents to new-found concepts. They had never been good at it, but Death considered that they were the first parents to any newfound thing, really, and long decided that since they had no one else to set the bar or to learn from, perhaps they did alright in the end.

This, though--and her mind drifted back to her newest little brother--was the first time that Death had felt the touch of Time and Night since they left long before Delight became Delirium. Mania, after the remaking, had not met their parents. She did not know them the way her siblings did despite remembering them, and a part of Death hurt with the thought. Neither their mother nor father had deigned to appear when the youngest of them had been broken, twisted, and left to rot until the newest aspect of herself had reformed from the ashes. To be fair, neither did Death or her siblings either. None of them had known. Somehow, in some way, Delirium-that-was-no-longer-Delight had kept the truth of it not just from Death who should have felt it, should ha r been there, but also from Destiny, and that realization burned.

It burned with the same intensity of the Prodigal's absence, with now Dream's absence from the family dinners. Now this, a new baby brother and the fresh feel of parents that Teleute had not felt in an age. For a long moment she tilted her head back and stared at that starless expanse of a sky and wondered what this meant--should she seek out her older brother and beg him for portents? Would he even bother to tell her? Destiny had grown more and more distant in the years, and even this past dinner he did not even bother to speak as his siblings bickered around him. He sat there, nose in his book, eyes unseeing as he ate the meal that Teleute and Mania had created. She could feel Potmos draw away from them, like Dream drew away from them, like the Prodigal--like Destruction, Olethros. Their family of Endless breaking apart at the seams--or already broken. Teleute, Death, clasped her fingers tight and closed her eyes against the pain of it; she breathed.

Time settled beside her, the world held still in a moment. She didn't speak as he rested hand upon her knee. She didn't look to him, look upon him, or even move as her father grasped tight. She felt that hand upon her knee shift from impossibly ancient and thin-boned, to barely able to cover the entirety of her with his palm.

"I ask that you keep this to yourself, my little death," Time said, and Death swallowed heavily at the epithet. "He is young, right now. Too young for the machinations of your siblings."

Death's hands didn't shake, but she wished they would. Her voice remained steady as she said, soft and perhaps on the edge of bitter, "We have not seen you in an age, and this is what you ask of me?"

"Teleute...."

"Does Destiny know?" Death raised her head and stared at their father's infant-ancient face, wrapped tight in hooded cloak of the deepest shades of the night sky--rich purple hues that bordered upon black, with nebulae in their folds. A gift, he once said, from Night in the early days of their courtship.

Time stared back at her, hair aged white instead of the bright red of his youth. He said a soft, "No."

Death searched his face, lips pressed thin. She asked, "Were you even going to tell me, if I had not felt him?"

"...no," Time acquiesced, and it felt like Despair's ring had hooked into her navel to spill all that she was upon the ground. Death closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Teleute...."

"I do not want to hear it, father," Teleute said, and pulled her knee out of his grasp as she stood. "You will have my silence," she added, then breathed slow and measured. "I have work to do." Her wings beat at her back, and Death readied herself back to work when Time spoke up again with soft and heavy words.

"I had not meant to bring another into this life after what happened to your sister," Time said with slow words, "to my daughter. I had no intentions of ever seeing your mother again after that."

"You weren't there," Teleute said shortly.

"I am always there," Time countered softly. "I was there as Delight shattered, and there as she rebuilt herself alone. Just as I am there for Olethros, and my little Morpheus." Death stilled.

"You know where Dream is?" she asked, and her voice broke. "Has he..." she shook herself, the question burned, but then she decided she did not want to know. She was not certain she could handle the thought that Dream had decided to go the way of Destruction. With a push of her wings, Death vanished.

...

Time frowned as Teleute ran from their conversation. He felt that tightness in his chest that had been ever-present since the youngest of his seven children had such a shattering and reforming that had echoed across all time. It had driven even him to his knees, he who kept his distance in the realms between. For a long, long moment Time stayed upon the bench that Teleute had seated herself and stared out into the park just outside the hospital that housed the small form of his youngest-oldest, the eighth that his children had never known of and yet always knew--or so Time had thought, once. Perhaps that paradoxical nature of this child of his had affected more than he thought.

With a whisper-sigh Time got to his feet, and with a twist of his cloak he vanished from the park entirely. It took only a breath, a twist of the hands of a clock to appear in the room with the babe in question. He leaned against his staff, heavy hearted as he stared down into the crib to the slumbering babe. He reached with one hand and gently stroked his finger down the child's cheek, a small, bittersweet smile on his face. He could remember his other children when they were like this--small, half-formed concepts of the universe. None of them remembered the age, so assured that they had come into this world fully formed from Night's loins. Time felt no reason to disabuse them of the thought; it was amusing, and always a fond memory to look upon. He may present himself as aloof and uncaring in the way he kept from them these eons, but Time loved each of his children uniquely. He always did, even if it baffled him sometimes.

The room was filled with the smell of ozone as a tear ripped its way through Reality. Time withheld the grimace, in part thankful that Morpheus currently was incapable of feeling such a thing, even if he rarely paid attention to what he called 'the Waking' so focused on his Dreamers when they slept. It was the smallest of blessings, his third eldest child's current predicament--a blessing, in that he would be kept from this knowledge for some time yet, but also a curse. Time glanced to the side, eyes alight on Morpheus' curled up and naked form in a place far from here but here all the same. He watched the way his chest twitched with a breath it could not take given stagnant air even as Time stroked a finger down the cheek of the babe in the crib in front of him.

It was long practice that allowed him to split his attention in two ways, technically three given the sound of booted feet behind him that held just as much important as his children if only because it kept his children safe.

"Your time is up."

Time pulled his gaze from Morpheus, and then from the infant before him to glance to the figure at his back. The hood of his cloak tumbled into his eyes as he did so, narrowed as they were on the familiar and apologetic form of the creature that stood there.

"I know," Time said and slowly closed his eyes.

"I am sorry," they said back, words soft, and Time hummed a response. "Come."

For a moment Time dithered, hand pressed to the child's cheek. Then, he said almost as a whisper, "Our arrangement?"

There was no response, and Time felt something in him stutter. He had hoped he had chosen right with this one; that given they were not born to the rest, but acquired in ancient times past. He had hoped to cultivate something to aide him in the years to come--someone who would listen instead of order--

"I will not tell the Council of the child." The voice of the one-eyed, pale-skinned creature cut through Time's racing thoughts enough to calm him. "They will not hear of him, or his Endless nature, from me." There was just the slightest edge of impatience to the other, enough to pull Time away from his child with a soft breath. "We need to leave now, or else I cannot guarantee they won't discover the news as it is...."

Time bowed his head, murmured a soft, "Yes." He looked for the last time at his youngest-oldest, the child that had always been there, yet was only just-born. Heavy was the crown that would settle upon his head if all went well, and yet--and yet. Time leaned over, pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, and whispered softly, "Rest well, Daniel. We will see each other again one day."

"Clockwork."

"I am coming, Grias," Time--Clockwork--uttered and turned to follow his Observant-attendant through the portal back to the Infinite Realms. Back in the vast emptiness of a realm just-born and as old as Clockwork himself he rolled his shoulders and looked over to Grias who scrubbed clawed hands through a head of hair with a huff. For a moment Clockwork watched them, watched how they stood there and muttered to themself for half a moment, and then sighed in relief.

Grias straightened; their silver hair fluffed up as they turned to regard the 'Master of Time' and one of the few 'Neverborne' -- cosmic entities that had long taken residence in the vastness that was the Realm Between. "We made it back just in time. They are not aware of our trip."

Clockwork nodded his head. He did not say thanks, although he felt thankful all the same. To be given that chance to see his child, to speak with another of his children he had not seen in eons--it meant more than Grias possibly knew. He let the other being settle into themself and the energies of this place and busied his attention with the clocks upon his wrist. He twisted them each so that he could return his gloves to his fingers, and then so that they were properly placed for him to see--seven, in total. He let his fingers linger upon the third of the watches before he moved on.

"Lady Nocturne is also not aware of our trip, so I will count that as a success," Grias spoke up into the silent after a moment. They glanced over to Clockwork with their single good eye, the one not hidden behind the black cloth wrap meant to hide its mangled nature.

Clockwork raised his head, lips pressed together as he stared with fathomless red eyes. "Grias, your help...."

Grias shook their head. He said a short, "You have had that child for as long as I have known you. It is...if this was to happen now of all times, then so be it."

"You did not have to agree to keep it from Nocturne," Clockwork countered softly, just the slightest bit hesitant as he stared at the other.

With a snort Grias shook their head and muttered a short, "I am not getting in the middle of whatever it is going on between you. You want to keep it secret? Fine." Clockwork inclined his head a moment later in understanding and acceptance of the words and Grias let off a heavy breath before he clasped his hands together. "Now, enough dallying, Clockwork. The Council has convened and demands your presence. Something about the Physical that needs attending. Come."

Clockwork grasped his staff and drifted off after Grias who turned and stared in the direction of the Tower. He said a soft, near placid, "As you say."

#fic: still waters run deep #fic: transitive existence #danny phantom #the sandman #fanfic #time of the endless #clockwork #death of the endless

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