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daddyjackfrost · 2 years

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Chapter 1: A Fated Meet

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stay With Me ; Morpheus] ❞

morpheus x fem!reader

warnings: third person pov, 5k+ words, i have not read the comics

read chapter 2 here

stay with me ; masterlist

The air was warm and husk as the full moon illuminated the small village, livelier than it ever was during the day. Peasants swarmed around, singing and drinking. That was the power of the dark, it brought upon such comfort. Hidden, yet not concealed, had been humanity’s favourable way of living.

Death, the maternal eldest sister of her siblings, quite enjoyed small towns. The first act of life and the final act of death felt intimate among villages, and perhaps it was her yearning to understand humanity, but a mourning village was humanity’s greatest display of love.

Walking beside Death, was her younger brother: Dream. Both of the siblings, The Endless, were out in the Waking World for different reasons.

Death, while doing her job, wanted to walk amongst humans with her brother. She wanted him to connect to the living, awake humans that visited his realm. It had been an old conversation that had carried on for thousands of years.

Dream, in all his ancient and sullen glory, had left his realm to appease his sister.

Death smiled at Dream, motioning her head towards the lively tavern to their right. “Let’s go inside, Dream.” Death began walking towards the tavern, her dress following behind her.

Dream held back a sigh. When it came to Death, there was not a single place he would not follow. As much as he disliked leaving his realm, he had yet to decline an offer from Death. For her, Dream would do anything.

Dream’s original impression of the tavern did not do it justice. The inside of the wooden pub was filled with village folk, men and women alike. Loud, overlapping conversations and lit torches welcomed the siblings. In the midst of the chaos, Death and Dream walked slowly through the tavern.

“Must we spend time here, dear sister? I assumed we would visit those who called to you.”

Although the tavern was loud, overwhelmingly so, Dream’s voice wrapped around Death.

“Patience, Dream.” Grabbing two jugs of alcohol, Death handed one to Dream, who looked at her unimpressed. “Look around you. This… this is humanity. This is what they live for.”

Dream scanned the tavern, taking in the scene before him. His eyes trailed their clothes, their hair, and their mannerisms. Dream did not know how his sister could see beyond what mortals were, temporary. Humans were nothing special, not to Dream. They had simply been created to give his siblings and himself a purpose. A job.

“I do not know how one could want to live this life. They are miserable. Why else do they sleep as much as they do? Spend much of their life in my realm?”

Death rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her drink. As she did, Dream placed his drink on an empty table, abandoning it.

“Humans are so much more than you give them credit for, Dream.”

“Doubtful,” Dream said, slightly amused. Death’s relentless pursuit was admirable. “A human could not love this life. This is why they kill and return to you so quickly.”

Death raised an eyebrow, a challenging glint in her eyes. “Is that so?”

Dream nodded, once. He controlled the realm of dreams and nightmares. He was the King of The Dreaming, he knew what humans yearned for, dreamed for, and it was not this. Nightmares for humans consisted of happenings from the Waking World; debt, illness, loss, and fear.

Mortals feared their own creations, as well as his.

Death began walking. “I want to introduce you to someone, Dream. Someone I believe may change your stubborn mind.”

Curious, Dream followed his sister. The Endless were not supposed to mingle with mortals, not unless absolutely necessary. And his sister was not one to break the rules.

Death stopped in her tracks, staring at a table of women. Dream paused next to her, his eyes landing on a woman half standing in her seat, her voice passionately carrying through the tavern.

“I will never die, Karisa. I recommend you do not as well. Look around you,” the woman spread her arms, motioning to the tavern, “there is so much to live for. Why would death take me from a world I was born to love?”

Dream’s eyes darkened. There was something in the woman’s voice that called to him, cut through the noise of the tavern and reached his ears. Intrigued, Dream shifted closer to the woman.

At the slight movement next to her, Death’s lip twitched. She leaned into Dream, speaking quietly.

“This, Dream, is Y/n L/n. A mortal not afraid of death, but afraid of not loving enough.”

Dream stood straighter. “You once asked me if a human could love their life enough to live it forever, and I believe we may have just found our answer.”

Dream hummed in response. With the slight tilt of his head, he considered this human. At first glance, she appeared to look like any other woman that visited his realm. Dream’s eyes travelled the length of the woman. Her hair seemed to shine, her eyes twinkled, and something magical seemed to run in her blood.

It was with distraught as Dream of The Endless realized he found this human to be beautiful.

From the corner of her eyes, Death tried to decipher the look on her brother’s face. Yet, Dream remained stoic and unmoved.

“We all die, Y/n. There is no escaping it.” Karisa, the blonde woman sitting across Y/n, stated.

Y/n shook her head, tucking her escaped hair behind her ear. “No,” she disagreed. “If this life was a gift, Death shall not take it back. Surely it cannot be that hateful.”

Death grinned, and Dream’s soft pink lips twitched.

“Are you hateful, sister?”

Death let out a small laugh. “Not even close,” she whispered back.

“What do you propose, then? How will you live your life to escape death?” Karisa asked, amused.

Death, Dream, and the other women around the table leaned closer, intrigued by Y/n’s answer.

“Simple,” Y/n sat back on her stool. “I will simply live my life, promising to love openly. There is such a wide sea I have yet to explore, land I have yet to see. I know I shall live my life to the fullest. And my love for living will save me.”

Dream let out the softest of sighs. He had never heard a human speak in such a way. The very reason he existed was because when the Waking World left humans wanting and weary, they would enter his realm.

If humans began to love their waking life, would there be a need for The Dreaming?

Dream planned to ask Lucienne about Y/n. What she dreamed of. What scared her. Why did he not recognize her from his realm?

Karisa, seemingly familiar with Y/n’s passion, laughed. “Love is not that strong, my naive dove. It cannot save you.”

Y/n’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, determined. “On the contrary, my dear Karisa, I believe love to be very strong. And I have much to love, much to give my heart to.” With a smile that only a friend could decipher, Y/n said, “you know how much love I have to give.”

Karisa let out a small smile, shaking her head. “Yes, darling. You and your overly large heart.”

Y/n brought her jug to her lips, smiling at her friend.

Death shared a look with Dream. Many, many, eons ago, Death and Dream laid their opinions about humans on the table. Dream, confined to the human unconscious, believed that mortals could never love their lives, hence his very purpose.

Death, closer to humanity than any of her siblings, argued that a human’s capacity to live their life had little to do with eternity, and more with their ability to love.

With a nod, Death straightened and laid her hand upon Dream’s shoulder. “I grant Y/n L/n immortality. For as long as she loves her life and yearns to live, she shall live.” Turning to look at Dream, Death continued. “I, Death of The Endless, grant Dream of The Endless to take her life, if the chance arises.”

Dream tensed under Death’s touch, his lips parting for the slightest of moments at Death’s change of tone. Dream had taken lives before, but Death’s permission seemed intimate, like a ribbon of fate had been tied to his name.

Death released her grip on Dream’s shoulder and smiled at him.

“Learn from Y/n, Dream. Let her guide you to the meaning of humanity. And more importantly,” Death’s voice turned breathy, ancient, “she is yours.”

Dream’s lips twitched down. The air around him grew heavy and darkness crept into the tavern.

“Explain the meaning behind your last sentence, sister.”

Dream’s voice was huskier, taunting. It prickled the nape of Death’s neck. Although Death was older and wiser, she had seemingly forgotten that Death also ruled Nightmares, and his company was not all pleasant.

Stepping away from her brother, Death smiled. “I’m but a messenger of fate, Dream.”

Dream stared at the space Death occupied before she vanished. Flexing his fingers behind his back, Dream slipped into the shadows. He would wait to speak with Y/n, once they were alone.

Positioned at her highest, brightest point, the moon stood proud as the tavern emptied and the village-folk found their way back to straw mattresses and the cold floor.

Y/n, the last of her friends to remain, walked out of the tavern with the energy of a child. Hours within the crowded bar did little to hinder her appearance. Among the dirty, poorly mannered villagers, Y/n appeared to be a dream.

Dark calculating eyes watch the mortal from the shadows. Dream emerges into the moonlight with grace, his black robes dragging against the dirt road. Hand clasped behind his back, he stands tall as Y/n walks away from him.

“Are you the one who speaks of defying death?”

Dream’s voice is low and he speaks his words slowly, drawing her in. Y/n halts, her back instantly straightening. With caution, she turns and a small gasp escapes her.

Standing before her is a tall, lean man with snow-white skin, and long black hair. She recognizes the embroidery on his black robes as those of the wealthy. Shadows hide his features, but Y/n does not miss his sharp jaw or the downward curve of his lips.

Strange, she thinks, everything about him is dark, except his lips.

“Love, was it?” The stranger’s voice vibrates against Y/n’s spine. “Your love for life will be your saving grace?”

Y/n turned completely, coming face-to-face with a being that resembled a man, yet felt anything but.

“Are you mocking me, sir?” Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man. She had not seen him in the tavern, and the man before her was not dismissable.

“Anything but, human. I find your love for living intriguing.” Dream took one step closer, his voice ticking Y/n’s cheek. “You must tell me how far love gets you.”

Dream’s lips curve upwards briefly, and Y/n pinches her hand. “Let us meet every hundred years, Y/n L/n, and you shall tell me if you truly love this life.”

Before Dream can slip back into his realm, Y/n asks him: “How will you find me?”

Dream had forgotten how conscious humans can be. As Dream prepared to respond, he noticed a glint in Y/n’s eyes, one that seemed to already know his answer, but yearned for the words to be spoken aloud.

“I will find you, Y/n. Even if you may not want me to.”

With that, Dream slipped back into the shadows and into his realm, The Dreaming. Before the gateway closed, Dream caught Y/n’s brief smile and turned his head. He had experienced enough of humanity to last him a thousand years.

Waiting in Dream’s throne room, Lucienne, the chief librarian, stood patiently. She had received word from her Lord to find everything they had on a Y/n L/n, and to Lucienne’s frustration, there was very little.

“Lucienne.”

Lucienne bowed as Dream walked by her and sat on the steps of his throne. Raising her head, Lucienne faced her Lord, smiling. “How was your trip in the Waking World, my Lord?”

Dream paid little attention to the librarian.“Interesting,” he answered, shortly.

His eyes landed on Lucienne’s empty hands and Dream frowned. “I asked for records, Lucienne. Where are they?” Dream’s voice remained as soft and emotionless as it always did, but Lucienne did not miss the flex of his fingers.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I checked very thoroughly and there is no record of Y/n L/n in The Dreaming. The only information I could find was that she is an only child, and her parents died when she was a mere babe.”

Dream rose to his feet, his long black coat following him down the steps until he reached Lucienne.

“How is that possible, Lucienne? Every mortal dreams. We have records of every single human.”

The weight of Dream’s words pressed down on the librarian and she winced. “I know, my Lord. However, Y/n simply does not exist within The Dreaming.”

Dream stared at Lucienne’s earnest expression and let out a small hum. It seemed that Death’s chosen human would be more interesting than Dream thought.

Lucienne cleared her throat and Dream’s eyes shifted to her, attentive. “Perhaps, my Lord…” Lucienne chose her words carefully, “Y/n may not be completely human.”

Dream lightly exhaled through his nose, releasing the tension that had gathered between his shoulder blades. He let himself breathe in the scent of The Dreaming, knowing it cleared his mind/

“A God?” Morpheus questioned, mused.

Lucienne shook her head. “Not quite, sir. I checked the Book of Gods, and did not find her in it.”

Dream walked back to the steps, sitting down. His coat spread out around him dramatically and he rested an arm on his knee, rubbing the skin under his chin.

“If not a God…”

“I am not sure, my Lord. But as you said, mortals dream, yet Y/n does not. She is an enigma.”

“Yes, Lucienne.” Dream thought back to the woman with a profound interest in living. “She is.”

“What will you do, my Lord?” Lucienne tried to keep her curiosity to herself, but she wished to know what her Lord would do. Y/n L/n was unknown to The Dreaming, and therefore, a possible threat.

“Nothing,” Dream answered. “I am not to worry myself with her, Lucienne. I will meet her in a hundred years time, and have my questions answered then.”

Holding her tongue, Lucienne nodded and bowed.

“As you wish, sir.”

As Lucienne walked back to her library, Dream ran his thumb over his lips. There was something about Y/n that irked Morpheus. He was unsure whether it had to do with her overwhelming love for life, or because he did not know her.

“Jessamy,” Dream whispered.

As a master calls upon a servant, a black and white raven landed before Morpheus. The raven bowed at her master, waiting for instructions.

“The mortal, Y/n. I need you to keep an eye on her. You must tell me if she has any relationships with any Gods, or…” Dream paused, “my siblings.”

Jessamy, ever the faithful servant, bowed her head and flew off.

Morpheus stood and dusted off his coat. He would not think about Y/n anymore. He was an Endless, he had a job to do. Responsibilities to adhere to.

Transporting out of his palace and into Fiddler’s Green, Dream clasped his hands behind his back and began walking. He would travel through The Dreaming, visiting each resident and balancing dreams and nightmares, imagination and reality.

As a kingdom does for its King, grass parts for Morpheus and trees loom over him, protective of their King.

100 Years Later…

Y/n brushed her fingers through her hair, tucking the loose pieces behind her ear. She smoothed out her dress and sat down, pressing her back against the large tree. Although she brought a book to read, the tied pages lay untouched next to her.

A hundred years had passed since Y/n had met that strange man and made an unspoken deal with him. She thought about the man often. His eyes, voice, and most of all, the presence he carried.

Y/n breathed in the fresh air. Her eyes danced across the field, filled with children and their families. A wave of loss washed over Y/n. The man she had loved had died long ago, and her children had grown old.

“I see you are well, Y/n.”

A raspy, lowly pitched voice invades Y/n’s mind, vibrating against her skull. Blinking, she looked up at the figure standing to the left of her.

Y/n’s eyes took in the being clad in black robes. In the sun, Y/n got her first proper look at Dream. His dark raven hair was shorter than she remembered, his eyes held indifference, and his skin looked bone-white. His face was sculpted to perfection, straight nose, sharp jaw, and soft pink lips.

He was beautiful.

“I am, yes.” Y/n smiled at him. “You really did find me.”

“Had you any doubt?” Morpheus asked, curious.

“No,” Y/n answered. “I hope it was not easy, though.”

“Why? Is this a game?” Morpheus’s head tilted to the right slightly.

“Is it not?”

Straightening his form, Dream motioned toward the park. “Will you accompany me on a walk?”

Y/n did not know this man—being—but his voice, soft and raspy, was not asking a question. It was a hidden command, and Y/n was to obey.

Y/n answered by extending her hand to Morpheus, an invitation to appease her curiosity about him. After living longer than anyone she knew, Y/n cared less about etiquette and more about enjoying and loving her life.

Dream’s eyes narrowed at her outstretched hand but his expression remained stoic. With a gentleman’s grace, Morpheus stepped towards Y/n and slipped his curved hand under hers, his thumb resting on her fingers.

Y/n tightened her hold on Morpheus’s hand as he pulled her up. Their hands, locked and pressed together, resembled a sign Y/n had seen once in a book.

Yin and Yang.

Standing, Y/n and Morpheus stood close, their hands no longer connected. Y/n held her breath as she saw a glimpse of stars in his blue eyes, and Morpheus stood still as he recalled Death’s words: “she is yours.”

Morpheus stepped back, turned, and began walking. Y/n let out a breath before running after him. Standing close to him felt uncomfortable, like he knew the secrets kept hidden deep within.

Walking side by side yet with considerable farness, Y/n and Morpheus walked through the forest clearing. Y/n cleared her throat and Dream looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Will you ask me?”

Morpheus looked straight ahead. “How has life been for you, Y/n? Do you still love it?”

Y/n laughed, surprising Morpheus. “Life has been hard. My husband, family, and friends have died. Many from famine and the plague. Do you know how hard it is to explain why you are not aging? I think I may have caused mental anguish to some.”

Dream listened attentively. Her words held painful stories, and yet her tone was light, happy. Before making his presence known, Dream had watched Y/n for a moment. She looked content, uncomfortably so.

“Do you wish to die?”

With furrowed eyebrows and a smile, Y/n looked at Dream like he had asked an absurd question.

“Wish to die? Absolutely not, my goodness. The pain of loss dulls over the years, but I love my life. The feeling of falling in love is so enamouring, I wish to feel it again, and again.”

Dream stopped walking, turning towards the strange woman with the same passive expression.

“You love your life?”

“Yes.”

Morpheus nodded, once. “I see.” His tone remained soft, yet rumbling. “I shall meet you in one hundred years, Y/n.”

Before he could slip away from her, Y/n took a step toward him on instinct. Dark blue eyes glanced at her feet before flickering to her face.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Dream considered her words for a moment, before nodding. “If I may ask you one.”

Y/n shrugged, nodding. “What can I call you?”

Morpheus stared into Y/n’s eyes, looking for any ulterior motives. Names were powerful, and Morpheus had many.

Morpheus parted his lips, and changed his mind.

“You may call me Oneiros.”

Y/n tilted her head, her eyes wide with curiosity as she let his words sink in. “Oneiros”, she repeated slowly.

The sound of his name, old, unused, awakened something in Morpheus. He had chosen to give Y/n that name because it existed before her time.

“What does it mean?”

“You have asked your question.”

Y/n’s face dropped before she laughed. “Yes, I suppose I have. What is your question, Oneiros?”

“Do you dream, Y/n?”

For the first time since Morpheus learned about Y/n, she tensed and her lips twitched downward.

“Pardon me?”

Morpheus took a step closer to Y/n, tilting his head to match eye-levels.

“Do you dream, Y/n?” Morpheus’s voice was soft, but his question—and it was a question—felt taunting.

Y/n considered lying, but when Morpheus’s blue eyes caught hers, she knew that lying would be unorthodox. Such eyes, as ancient as they were, would see through her.

“No,” Y/n answered. Surprising herself, and The Dream Lord. “I do not dream when I sleep.”

Oneiros stepped closer to Y/n, until they breathed the same air.

“Why?”

For the first time since Y/n had met Morpheus, she heard the slightest hint of curiosity.

Stretching her lips into an uneasy smile, Y/n took a step back. Needing to breathe her own air.

“You have asked your question, Oneiros.”

Dream blinked, slowly. His lips twitched upwards.

“Yes. I suppose I have.”

Without a word, he slipped back into the shadows. Hidden from mortal view, Morpheus watched as Y/n stared at her hands before clenching them into fists.

When she turned and began walking, Morpheus slipped into The Dreaming.

200 Years Later…

“Are you on your way to visit the mortal, sir?”

Morpheus nodded at Lucienne. He stood on his palace balcony, taking in the sight of The Dreaming. His affection for his realm was beyond words, and his tenderness towards his creations often rendered him speechless.

“I have been checking the library for any new information on her, but nothing new has appeared.”

Morpheus turned his back to The Dreaming and stood upright as Lucienne spoke.

“Y/n told me she does not dream. She seemed… upset about the fact.”

Lucienne raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

“Yes. That was all I asked.”

Hiding her frustration, Lucienne smiled. “Right. Well, perhaps you shall find out more today.”

Morpheus slipped into the Waking World. When his eyes opened, Morpheus stood in what he assumed was a library.

Scanning the old, abandoned library, Dream’s eyes landed on Y/n. She sat on her knees, facing an elderly man. The man’s hair was white and his eyes had grown old. Morpheus recognized the man.

Adam Khan.

Using the shadows to get close, Morpheus decided he would remain hidden until Y/n was alone.

“I do not understand,” Y/n said, quietly. “You have many children, why me?”

Adam Khan smiled, and the room brightened. He laid his brown wrinkled hand on top of Y/n’s.

“Because, my dear, you are my child as well. You love these books, this space, more than any of my other children. I will die, but you will not. Let my love for knowledge live through you.”

Dark eyes watched Y/n’s lips tremble. Her emotions were written over her face, empathy had never been painted clearer.

“Thank you, Khan. I will love and protect this library for as long as I live.”

Adam Khan laughed, standing. “I imagine that to be a long time.” He tipped his head and walked away, leaving Y/n alone.

“You can show yourself, Oneiros.”

Morpheus stepped out of the shadows, arms hanging beside him. “How did you know?”

Y/n pushed herself up, standing. She turned to look at him briefly before smoothing out her gown and walking down an aisle. Morpheus followed her, silently.

“The air chilled, and I felt your eyes on me.”

Morpheus hummed. His fingers skimmed the books on either side of him, thinking of Lucienne and her library.

Y/n tried to keep a stable pace as she walked. Dream’s presence behind her had her body on edge, like she needed to outrun a nightmare.

Reaching the end of the aisle, Y/n motioned at the seat facing hers. “Can I get you anything?” After a pause, she tilted her head to the side, eyes calculating. “Do you eat? Human food, I mean.”

Morpheus sat down, smoothing out his coat. “No,” he answered her first question. “And, yes.”

Y/n nodded, realizing that was the second thing she knew about him. “Are you human?” Intrigue coated her voice.

Morpheus took a moment to contemplate his answer. “Would you like to play a game?”

Y/n smiled, leaning forward. “I love games.”

“I will answer two questions, if you answer two of mine.” Morpheus decided to withhold any rules. Why set them if they are not needed.

Y/n kept her calculating eyes on Morpheus. She leaned away from him and crossed her legs.

“What could a being like you want to know about me?”

Morpheus lifted his chin to meet her gaze. “Quite a bit, actually.”

Y/n’s head dipped as she tried to hide her fleeting smile. “Fascinating.” She looked up, meeting Morpheus’s penetrating stare. “What are you?”

Dream’s expression remained impassive. “Have you any guesses?” His voice was honey, soft yet raspy, like a summer storm.

Y/n tilted her head and bit her bottom lip. She had her theories, but Dream’s stare made her feel exposed, hesitant. “You cannot be human. And defining you as a God… feels inadequate.”

Morpheus’s head tipped to the side, his blue eyes studying Y/n in a way a sculptor studies his muse. “I am not a God. I am more. Endless.” His tongue caressing the syllables of the last word as one would a sonnet, or the name of a lover.

“That is not an answer.”

For the very first time since meeting Oneiros, Y/n felt the slightest inkling of fear. Two hundred years ago, Y/n guessed she may have made a deal with the Devil, but she realized that the Devil was a subsidiary among beings like Oneiros, more than a God.

“That is my answer.”

Y/n smiled, uneasily. “Very well. My second question is,” Y/n spared a glance at the wide window, “why does your raven, Jessamy, follow me wherever I go?”

Y/n watched his expression very carefully, looking for any signs of surprise. Morpheus remained still, his eyebrows furrowed and his stare bold, but not withering. Y/n watched hesitancy dance on his lips and awaited his answer.

“To watch you.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped Y/n and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Dream’s eyes narrowed, slightly.

“I know that much, Oneiros. But why?”

Morpheus’s eyes twinkled. “You have asked your questions.”

Y/n looked at him, bewildered. “You barely answered them. You are not a conversationalist, are you?”

Ignoring her words, Morpheus leaned forward in his seat. “Why do you not dream?”

Gone was Y/n’s teasing smile. Her lips fell into a frown and she threaded her fingers together, leaning back into her seat, seeking comfort. “I do not know. My slumber has always been dreamless.”

“That is not possible. You are human. Human’s dream.” Morpheus’s voice was gentle, flowing with thinned curiosity. “Do you lie?”

“Is that your second question?”

Morpheus’s lips curve upwards. He had forgotten what a good conversation felt like. “No.” Dream wanted to ask more about who she is, what she is, but at the last second, he changed his mind. “How has your life been this last century?”

Y/n failed to hide her surprise. She was sure he was going to ask something else, but she accepted the change of conversation.

“With honesty?”

Morpheus nodded, once. “I invite honesty. You shall do well to remember it.”

“The last sixty years have been hard. I was called a witch and taken as a slave for a very ruthless man. I escaped, along with Adam Khan’s children. My time as a captor was filled with hardship. Hunger is a feeling I wish upon no man.”

Morpheus leaned back, his hands folded. “Do you wish for death?”

Y/n laughed, and Morpheus’s eyes remained on her.

“Not in the slightest. I had a few hard years, but that does not mean I do not love my life. I escaped, made friends, learned a great deal about humanity and the power of knowledge.” Y/n turned her head to look at the old, withering building. “I have been given this learning center. I have so much to live for.”

Morpheus looked away from Y/n. Her passion and empathy prickled his skin until he had to look away. A small, hidden part of Morpheus was glad she had not asked for Death. He found her company interesting.

A universe studying the atoms it is made of.

Morpheus stood, tipping his head. “Until next time, Y/n.”

“In a hundred years time, Dream.”

Morpheus’s head lifted and his burning gaze fell on Y/n’s smiling face. “Greek is a very beautiful language, agreed?”

Morpheus closed his eyes and slipped back into The Dreaming, a small smile on his face.

That night, in over two hundred years, Y/n dreamed for the first time.

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fxllfaiiry · 2 years

Text

Now playing... I wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys

Thinking about lazy makeout sessions with morpheus.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“Dream stop we’ll get caught.” You whispered anxiously into your dear husband's ear while trying not to moan loudly.

“I don't currently care my queen.” He stated smirking into your neck, sucking harder. You moved around slightly in his lap to give him better access causing you to accidentally touch his clothed hard-on, unknowingly making it harder for him to not take you over his lap.

Making out on his throne was a terrible idea. Anyone could walk in, how did he not seem to care? Before you could ask him anything, he had pulled himself out of your neck and was placing his swollen lips onto yours.

His hands eagerly went down to your tits squeezing them through the fabric. You tugged on his hair making him moan lightly into your mouth, his plump lips were moving with urgency against yours devouring you with every breath. Before he could explore you any further you pulled back panting with spit smeared all over your rosy lips. He smiled looking at you with nothing but sheer love in his eyes.

You took your thumb and slowly wiped his spit-covered lips, wishing they would be on yours again soon. Without saying another word, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips and whispered, “I love you, my lord.”

He had never felt this lucky in his entire life. He had an angel all to himself.

“I love you more, my beloved queen.”

And with that, he once again crashed his lips onto yours.

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alexander-arcturus-black-lupin · 6 months

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Morpheus is intrigued

TW: He watches her w/o her con

Morpheus was intrigued. Honestly everything you did was intriguing to end but this topped the cake. He had come up from the dreaming to see how you were.

It was a simple check up.

That's why he came when the sun was still out. He knocked on your door but heard no response. He materialised inside but couldn't find you anywhere.

Till he reached your bedroom. He heard your soft sighs first and assumed you were sleeping, but he hadn't sensed your form in the dreaming.

He slowly opened the door, and was greeted to the sight of you. On your back. Legs Spread out. With a hand on your breasts and the other fiddling down on your between you legs.

He closed the door and sat in the one of the chairs in your room. Which gave him a good view of you. No matter how hard you tried tho you couldn't come.

He knew of how humans touched themselves for pleasure. He'd even seen some have certain dreams about it but he never thought you would be one he'd come across.

Interesting

#morpheus sandman #morpheus x y/n smut #morpheus x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #morpheus smut #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus lord of dreams #the sandman

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kpopgirlbtssvt · 2 months

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Omggg Sandman peeps!! Imagine this-

Morpheus x Gadling!fem!human!reader where she is in her 20s and is Hob’s daughter (who was born years after 1989 when Morpheus “stood up” Hob when he was trapped), but Morpheus doesn’t know that she’s Hob’s daughter when they meet, and Y/n doesn’t know that her Dad knows Morpheus. And they end up starting to date and are in a serious relationship with each other. Hob doesn’t know that his close friend is dating his daughter either. They both find out when Y/n invites them to the New Inn to “meet” each other and they’re both like, “???”… Dream would be like, “You [Hob] are her father??” and Hob is like, “Really, my daughter???” Y/n is like, “You both know each other??”

@dragon-kazansky @gh0stsp1d3r @roguelov @missdreamofendless @honeybeezgobzzzzz

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xarniae · 2 years

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☁︎ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ⋆⁺₊⋆(2)

a/n: sorry for the delay! also thank you all so much for you love on part 1 it really means a lot!!!! synapsis: after you left the dreaming Morpheus was devastated, he couldn't bare to see you and distanced himself. (it has a happy ending i swear) warnings: not proofread.... taglist: @wt-fxck @buckywenal24 @thewhitewolfmarvel @mata0-0mata @naiveable @p3nny4urth0ught5 @xixxala @sardonic-courtney @poemfreak360 @khaleesihavilliard @elraeeee @ace-27749 pt1

☆.｡.:*

The nights after you awoke were cold, empty, and endless. You weren’t gifted the blessing of a fulfilled sleep. Your closed eyes were greeted by the pitch black of your eyelids and a blank dream. You wished to once again be greeted by the Lord of Dreams, but he never came. He seemed to have abandoned you. The man was fragile and petty, you had no desire to leave him alone in the dreaming but the waking world was calling you and you could not decline. He seemed to be punishing you, you assumed that was the case. The plush hospital bed felt as if it was sucking you in, trapping you. Your mind was begging you to get up and walk, it had been weeks since you woke from your coma. But your heart was pleading with you to stay in bed, hoping that sleep would finally come and you would see your love. A sigh left your sickly chapped lips and you stood out of bed. It was freeing, you were in control. Not the doctors, not your family, nobody watching you. Telling you that you can’t wander. Your legs shakily took steps towards the large framed door. With a heavy tough the door opens revealing the bustling hospital. Even at night, it was awake, the bright lights shined in your eyes. Freedom. You walked around, waving at any person who perceived you. It was lovely, you felt like you were overseeing your happiness. As you enjoy your night walk around the hospital the nurse assigned to your room took notice of your fragile and ill state roaming the halls, A light yet heavy voice calls for you, your head turns around to the sound and see your nurse,

“Shouldn’t you be in your bed?” A small smile perched on his charming face, With a tilt in your head, you noticed he looked somewhat like Edmund from the childhood classic Narnia series. How funny, how odd? You swore you were watching that movie earlier in the morning.

“I was just going on a small walk.” You voice answers

“Well, you should be resting.”He walks towards you and gently holds your forearm, leading you away with care and caution.

“I wish to stretch my legs-” You snatch your weak arm back from the black-haired man,

“Is that too much to ask.”

A harsh silence takes over the pair, you could see his eyes were calculating how to deal with you,

“In your condition, it would be much better for you to rest in your bed.”

“After being asleep for years I would have assumed that t would be better for me to stretch my legs and walk.?”

“Not being this sickly as you are-” He pauses and huffs, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration

“You should focus on eating and resting then and only then-” he points an accusatory finger

“ You start standing on your own.”

No more words left your mouth as you silently followed him to your room, you didn’t want to but you did. It was fun while it lasted, that glimpse of self-sufficiency felt so pleasing. Walking alone felt so liberating. But here you were once again. Stuck. And when the unnamed nurse left you were alone. Your head fell against the fluffy white pillow. Your body felt fluttery and light. Then you awoke. You hear the door click closed and hear your parents mutter your name with joy. lately, they were the only ones to visit. One of your parents held a round frosted cake while the other carried sweet camelia flowers. Even with the sweet gestures and the hugs and kisses, you looked so empty and hollow. Like a part of you was missing, your parents were perplexed by this. What changed you? What gave you so much happiness and love that when it was taken away you were so solemn? They would never know about your lover, The Lord Of Dreams. And when they leave, you close your eyes begging for sleep to overtake you. Begging to see him once again.

Morpheus wasn't trying to cause you pain and emptiness. he was only grieving and couldn't find it in his heart to see you again. He didn’t despise you on the contrary he loved you more than the earth loves it sky, more than the night loves its moon. So even when he knew he could see you again, it hurt. You were in the mortal world again, you were mortal again, you were no longer his other half. Morpheus couldn’t bring himself to be near you. He feared that if he touched you he wouldn’t be able to control himself from taking you back to the dreaming.

“Lord Morpheus” Luciannes soft voice breaks him from his deep thoughts

“What is on your mind.” Her words are laced with concern, After he doesn’t respond she continues,

“Staring at the palace doors isn’t going to bring them back.” Her tone had changed, All Morpheus does was slowly turn his head to face her, his eyes swirled with rage and anguish. He knew that Lucciane was being realistic, but he wanted to be delusional, he wanted to wish that you would return back to his realm.

With a heavy sigh, Lucciane put a hand on the Lord of Dreams' shoulder and says her piece, the piece that had been heavy on her heart.

“You do understand that by distancing yourself you are not only harming yourself but your lover as well.”

He knows, he can feel it. Every time sleep creeps up and silently overtakes you on that hospital bed. He can feel your misery. Every time a piece of his heart is broken, each time his pain only grows.

“Lucianne I am firmly aware of what I am doing-”

“But are you?” Lucienne butts in,

“Are you really aware of what damage you are causing to them?” Her voice increases

Ever so calmly Morpheus rises from his throne, no malice or menace in his stance,

“It is necessary.”

Luccianne scoffs at his idocacy,

“Necessary? Don’t fool yourself.” “Lucianne.” His words come out like a solemn whisper,

“You are such a child Morpheus, a delusional pathetic child!”

“Lucianne,” he repeats but she is having none of it,

“Don’t ‘Lucianne’ me Morpheus,” She hisses looking at him dead in the eye, he had never seen her so enraged,

“You have no right to act as if you are making a righteous sacrifice by pushing yourself away from one of the limited amounts of people who love you and see you for who you are. You have no right to do that to them.”

He knows she is right, she always is.

“You promised that you would try to do better, do you remember that Morpheus?”

“Yes.” The mirage he created slowly disappeared, he remembered the day he crafted Gault into a dream. How he promised to listen.

“Then do better” Luciannes voice softens

“How would I do that?” he sounds so hopeless, he sits on the floor, rejecting his throne.

“First, just apologize.” She crouches to his level,

“Then say whatever words are locked in your heart, find the air in your lungs and let them go.”

“Thank you Lucianne.” His words laced with the utmost gratitude towards his friend

“Thank me after you make amends Lord Morpheus.” She stands up and leaves, Her words ringing in his ears. The Lord of Dreams was finally awake.

That night, when the moon was at its full Morpheus decided to visit you. You were lying in your bed, as usual, your eyes pinned at the ceiling unmoving, usually, at this time Morpheus would have unknowingly put you into a dissatisfactory slumber. But today he revealed himself from the shadows. His serene voice wafts in your ears making your head snap in his direction. You were frazzled, a few slaps to your face reminded you that this was in fact reality,

“Morpheus.” You whisper, your voice cracks. Your legs shift to try to get up but Morpheus stops you.

“You do not need to strain your legs for me.” He steps closer to you a rests his palm on your knees. He watched as you hurried back to your spot, propped up by the wall behind you.

“Come sit then.” Your hand pats the empty space next to you, He sits hesitantly and stiff. A soft silence fall over the pair, it is not until you finally speak that the silence is broken,

“Do you not love me anymore Morpheus.” His heart aches at your words,

“My dear you will never understand the extent of my love and passion towards you.”

“Then why did you never visit me.” Your voice quivered, tears welling up in your eyes. You had tried to be composed, but seeing him here like this made your emotions go haywire.

“I’m sorry my love, I never wished to harm you like this. “

“I had your love all of the time and when you left my kingdom I felt like I couldn't have all of your love. I was scared. I was greedy for you. I need you all of the time, I need you to be with me..” His arm moves to wipe the hot tears falling from your eyes,

“Please don’t shed any tears for me-” He softly kisses your eyelid,

“I don’t deserve it.”

You wrap your arms around him in a hug, It was secure. He could feel your love flowing from your body. He could feel your body quake and shiver, He could feel your hot tears soak his clothing. What has he done? After a few moments, you pull away and look him dead in the eyes,

“I love you.”

“I love you as well.”

“No you don't understand-” Your frail arms grip his shoulders,

“ I. love. you” You repeat slowly, enunciating each word. It came out a bit menacing and it delighted Morpheus.

“And I. love .you. as .well.” He mimics

Morpheus gifts you with a long kiss on the lips, one that makes up for the weeks without him. One that makes your heart soar. You would never return to the Dreaming until your death a few years later, but there would never be a day where Morpheus doesn’t visit you, whether it is in your dreams or in your waking life. He was by your side for eternity.

{end}

#morpheus x you #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader smut #morpheus x y/n #netflix the sandman #the sandman x you #lord morpheus #morpheous

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thethreeeyed-raven · 8 months

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Don't have the emoji for smut but I had a request that involves it: Reader isn't as experienced with sex as Morpheus is and is nervous about taking their relationship to that level; he assures them that they will get better at sexual things as they gain more experience and that he doesn't mind teaching them.

experience

the kingdom of dreams | warnings : insecurity, talk of sex, mention of past bad experiences, mention of past partners | a/n : hopefully you enjoy reading this, tysm for requesting☺️💗 | tags : @knight-of-flowerss , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom | dream of the endless playlist

You and Morpheus had been seeing each other for a couple of months now. Your relationship was quite strange.

Usually people this far into a relationship would have done something even a little sexual by now, but Morpheus hadn't even seen you naked.

The only thing he had seen remotely revealing was your ankle (he won't admit it gave him a bit of a rush you know where).

Morpheus had begun to notice that every time he brought up the idea of sex you would completely ignore it and change the subject. Or when he would try and seduce you, you would always shy away from his touch.

Quite frankly, it hurt his pride.

Did you find him revolting?

Currently, you and Morpheus lay on his bed cuddling. None of you were saying anything, just basking in each other's presence.

His brain had been gathering thoughts and inventing new insecurities all day, it was making his head hurt.

"My love."

Morpheus' voice was quiet and soft.

"Hmm?" You replied, your eyes still shut, taking in his scent.

"Do you-" Morpheus hesitated before carrying on. "Do you not want me?"

Your body shot up and you looked down at him in shock. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"You never want me to touch you, or even look at your bare body."

The sadness in his eyes caused a terrible ache in your heart.

"Do you not love me?"

Taking his face gently in your hands, you pressed a subtle kiss on his velvety lips. "Dream, I love you more than words could ever describe. I guess my bad experiences in the past have caused me to shy away from doing anything sexual."

"Bad experiences?" Had someone hurt you?

"No one has ever really satisfied me before, everyone I've been with was only ever concerned about getting a good fuck, so I don't really know much about sex besides the basics." You shifted your gaze from him, embarrassed.

"Darling," Morpheus rose himself gracefully. "I have had many partners in the past, I do know a thing or two." A smirk painted his face before it turned into a soft smile. "I know that I'm not great at communication, but know all you have to do is ask."

Dream leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to your neck.

"Thank you, my dream."

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madwomansapologist · 8 months

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Hi! Wanted to say that your writing style is so nice and it feels so mushy when I read them. I'm truly amazed, where do you gen an inspiration to write?

Can I please request Morpheus x reader, who picks on their skin? I've always had this stupid habit and in result fingers (and sometimes face) are always in pain or bleeding. And usually you're not notice it until someone points it out for you and things become awkward. 💀 (Also I'm so sorry to bother if your requests are closed, I checked but maybe accidentally skipped it)

It's okay if this may be weird or specific and you don't want to do it, I'm still grateful for your writings. Have a nice day!

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

synopsis: Restoring the long-forgotten library of Morpheus's realm, your last concern was what your hands were doing. Concentrated on reorganizing and looking for signs of lost dreams and nightmares, it was Morpheus who noticed a old habit of yours.

warnings: none.

ps: omg. you're literally the best. thank you for that! well mostly of my inspiration comes from things that i personally believe. you know that "write about what you know" advice? i prefer it worded as a "write about what you feel." like the last thing i wrote for Morpheus. it was a request about pregnancy, and I could just write about it, but it didn't really talked to me. but perceiving death and deciding that fuck that, the memories of my family will keep me alive—that talk to me. so mostly i guess is just that Neil Gaiman writing advice: don't be afraid of telling the truth. he said that all books are lies told by people that can put truth in them. i guess i live by that. sorry for the rant, but i'm so passionate about it. either way, hope you like this! my requests weren't close by the time you ask for it (sorry for the long wait, i was working on the birthday event), there is no need to apologize! have a great day, dear! 💙🪩

• The library wasn't going to restore itself. At least, you don't think it can. Doing whatever Lucienne told you to, it was only natural for you to focus on trying to make this realm reach its glory again. You didn't have time for anything else.

• Cain and Able were surprisely helpful with your task. The brothers may not be exactly healthy with one another, but they know a lot about this place you know so little. With their knowledge and ease of sharing it, you were closer and closer to finally find Brute and Glob.

• By the time you were back with Lucienne, you both had so much to do. It was so easy to forget about anything else. To have a break, to eat something, to sleep for a few hours. So many things to do, so much to repair, that all you could was to focus on your work. Not even an old habit of yours could have won your attention.

• You were picking on your skin. It always surprises you when you noticed, simply because you don't do this on purpose. It is just a thing that happens. Most of the times, you don't noticed until it starts to hurt or bleed. And this time, none of that happened.

• Dive into work, and with Lucienne also worrying about the realm, no one was really paying attention to your skin. Your hands picked and pushed, but with no great amount of pain to warn you about it, you just didn't noticed.

• You both heard when Morpheus entered the library. After one of his many quests to find his tools, it was a surprise that he would come back so early. Or was it late? You can't really tell how time works here.

• When you welcomed him, it took mere seconds for Morpheus' expression to change from tiredness to concern. He walked straight towards you, his hands grabbed your face with care and affection, and asked you what hurted you.

• You undertood quickly what happened. You explained to him, the awkward situation making you more and more embarrassed with every couple of words, feeling suddenly so out of place. But when Morpheus was sure that nothing had inflicted pain on you, his softness made impossible for you to remain embarrassed.

• Morpheus silenced you with sweet kisses. His lips roamed through your face, his feelings penetreting your skin. He kissed you whole before looking at you again. And the way he looked at you, the way Morpheus always look at you, made you feel so... so...

• Wide.

• In front of Morpheus, in between his hands, you feel infinite. Morpheus always finds a way to make you feel like that.

• Morpheus may not be the best person to pick on social clues, but he can read you. When you care about someone in the way he cares about you, it's easy to learn about the person of interest. Morpheus was able to understand that this habit was just another facade of you, and he would never made you feel bad about it.

• Of course Morpheus would pretty much rather you not hurting yourself in anyway, but he would never made you feel bad about it. If he ever notice you doing it again, Morpheus would just grab you hand and kiss it. It's not like being gentle with you was difficult.

• And if you ever pick your skin until it bleed, Morpheus have no problem with helping you to clean it. Morpheus can take care of you, just like you took care of him so many times before. He's just being fair.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

“ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ.” | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: After being killed by Roderick Burgess during her attempts to free her husband, YN returns to Morpheus shortly after he himself reincarnated (kind of pt. 2 to »this one«)

word count: 5k oooops…?

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of the Afterlife, reincarnation, angst, but super fluff, like, seriously, this is a fluffy cloud of cotton candy, Death, Lucienne, Mervyn, and Matthew as trusty wing people

author’s note: This idea is presented to you by a comment written by @writing-fanics under my first ever Morpheus work: “we meet him again but when he’s reincarnated as Daniel Hall 👉👈 that’s my headcannon to make me happy after reading this the third time”. I could not not write this one out after I succeeded in breaking my own heart with the first fanfic for my baby 🥺 We imagine that Morpheus looks the same and has kept every memory after his reincarnation, but they have to be triggered, thank you, bye

Disclaimer: I have never read the comics (yet), and I’m still watching season one, so this is just my take on it. Please, don’t come for my head, would be much appreciated 👉🏻👈🏻 But I deliberately changed the happenings of episode 1 in order to let my baby have his vengeance. So, that’s on purpose!

;

“Okay, scenario time,” Matthew’s voice reverberated through the soothingly lit library in the Dreaming and called Lucienne and Mervyn to attention. The librarian peeked expectantly over her round glasses while Merv turned away from the stack of books to eye the flying raven cautiously. Recently, the bird had acted weirdly every time he had returned from the Waking World, and every time it had gotten more and more concerning. “What is it this time, Matthew? The beheaded ghost of Anne Boleyn?” Lucienne exchanged glances with the pumpkin head, suppressing a barely noticeable grin before cocking both eyebrows at the black bird.

Matthew groaned—he wished he hadn’t spoken a word about that incident—but flapped his wings to detangle the ends of his feathers. He still wasn’t used to those either. “Very funny,” he seethed and tickled a rumbling chuckle out of the pumpkin’s mouth. Sometimes he wished he would’ve landed in hell instead of the presence of these two buttheads who never faltered to tease him. “Anyway,” the raven continued with a warning glare out of his black eyes, “Back to my totally hypothetical scenario. Is rebirth a thing? I’m still new to this stuff. Hadn’t had the time to read through every book.” To be quite honest, Matthew hadn’t touched a single book in here, not even those which Lucienne had put on a stack on one of the tables, just for him. He hadn’t been a big reader back in his days; he should be damned if he would start with it now.

Lost in his thoughts, Matthew didn’t realize the awful silence settling over the duo in front of him. Confused, he looked from one to the other. “What have I said or done now?!” Lucienne was the first to speak up. “Why are you asking, Matthew?” Her voice was laced with earnestness, and the raven stepped from one talon to the other. “No reason?” He didn’t sound convincing, even he heard that. “Matthew,” the librarian spoke in one of her warning tones, and the bird knew he couldn’t joke around anymore. “Fine! There is this teeny-tiny portrait Morpheus is carrying around with him. Like, all the damn time. And over which he is so protective, I wasn’t allowed to take a look or even ask him who that is. But…” Again, he stepped from one toe to the other before jumping from the stack of books he had landed on. “But?” Now even Mervyn urged him with the same unnerving tone Lucienne owned. “But a few weeks ago, he forgot to put it back in his pocket, and it lay open on one of the steps. So, yeah, I took a glance. Don’t give me that look, you two would have done the same!” Lucienne stood from her chair and moved closer to him. “Stop weaseling around the point, Matthew!”

The librarian knew whose features were depicted in the locket the lord carried around ever since Lucienne had handed it over to him. The thought alone of Lord Morpheus’ still lingering pain—even though he couldn’t put it to the proper memories connected to this feeling—made her heart ache as well—especially because she had known her as closely as one could know the former Queen of the Dreaming. They had considered each other dear friends, sharing the same passion for the written word and wisdom.

“Good lord, let me take a breather! Why are you so eager all of a sudden? Sheesh.” Her patience with this creature was almost depleted, and she would have loved to just shake a bit of sense into him. Instead, the librarian was content with using threatening words. “If you are not willing to tell me right in this instance what this nonsense is about, I will shake some sense into your feathery body!” Matthew stared up at her and took a small step back, putting some distance between them, but maneuvered him closer to Mervyn, who definitely wouldn’t help him if Lucienne decided to strangle the life out of him. “Okay, Okay! I’m sure I saw her wandering around in the Waking World! Happy?”

The bomb blew up and silence once more settled over the library. Lucienne continued to stare down at the raven, face unmoving and lacking any expression, while Mervyn plopped down onto one of the chairs standing next to the long wooden table. Matthew glanced from one to the other. “Why? Who is she? Someone important? Like his queen?” A chuckle escaped him at the thought of Morpheus being married and having a loving wife somewhere hidden in this palace. But at the sight of hurt and grief on the pumpkin’s face, even the cheeky raven grew quiet.

“She was his queen, yes,” Mervyn mumbled, leaning back in the chair. “She is his queen,” Lucienne corrected him, not having accepted the cruel fate her friend had endured. Merv sighed long and deep. “Her name was YN, and she was the only being he had ever wanted.” Matthew perked up. “YN as in YN, the Goddess of Nature and Music and all that?” Both nodded simultaneously. “She was killed by the same man who had captured our lord. And you are sure you saw her? Not some mortal only resembling her?” The raven nodded without a second thought after digesting the new information and the even more depressing backstory of his boss. “I’m pretty sure. She looked… lost. And I’m sure she saw me. Not only the raven but me.” And that had unsettled him so much that he had fled every time she had found him again. Yet, Matthew always returned to keep an eye on her, unable to stay away from her because somewhere deep down, he knew she was somehow different.

Lucienne exchanged glances with Mervyn. “Is it possible then?” The pumpkin head asked the librarian without hesitation, and she nodded equally as fast. “Reincarnation? Yes. Resurrection? Possibly? Death is the expert on the latter.”

And as if she had only waited for the perfect moment, Death of the Endless appeared in the middle of the library, displeasure evident on her face.

“Who of you found it screamingly funny to mingle with a soul?”

Now it was Matthew and Mervyn who exchanged glances before turning their eyes to Lucienne. “Seems likely possible,” the raven announced before the trio moved to look to the Endless, still waiting for an answer, arms crossed in front of her chest.

;

“Why the sudden need to visit the Waking World?” Morpheus’ soft voice asked Death, an edge of curiosity to it nonetheless, blue eyes resting on the passing people who didn’t heed the Endless’ existence nor presence entirely. His sister hummed shortly, but no word left her mouth—for now. Minutes passed by just like humans passed by. They stood on this spot on the street silently, right opposite a flourishing park, facing the lush green grass, the flower bushes, the high, looming, almost ancient trees.

“Death,” he warned lowly, not feeling pleased by this game she seemed to play with him. Impatience spread in his body, letting him experience the usual unresting feeling crushing into his muscles and bones, urging him to do anything. He had learned to despise this feeling. “The locket you carry.” Her sudden turn to face him surprised even him, and a black brow arched over his eye. “What about it?” He felt rather protective over the little piece Lucienne had handed him over, and he remembered the memory rising at the gesture vividly. The agony connected to it was something he had never experienced before. But instead of fading over time, it had manifested as a brick in his soul and heart; unwavering and unstoppable as soon as it once had taken hold of him.

Death observed him closely, witnessing the change in his eyes and the emotions dancing over his face. She was sure the memories were somewhere buried in his soul, and they only had to trigger them. It surprised her he didn’t unlock any of them at the first sight of her face after Lucienne had given him the small portrait right after he was reincarnated.

“You do know who she is, do you, brother?” Morpheus furrowed his forehead in concentration, trying to understand the meaning behind this—but a conclusion was nowhere to be seen. Death seemingly caught up to his train of thought because she slowly pointed in the direction of the blooming park opposite of them without letting him out of her sight. “I hope this will answer everything,” she mumbled, watching Morpheus as he slowly turned his head to watch the greenery and people passing. It was nothing out of the ordinary to see.

Not until she stepped out of the shadow of a willow tree into the beaming sunlight.

She strolled through the grass seemingly without a care in the world, face held upwards in the direction of the warming sun, eyes closed. He somehow knew that they were of an ever-changing color, always capturing him, even after eons of being his companion as soon as he had stepped into a room she had occupied, following him with an expression he only could describe as never-ending and undying love.

Morpheus could feel how his heart ached bitterly and agonizingly at the sight of her.

He watched her fingertips dance over flowers in full bloom, tickling an even brighter color out of their petals which stretched desperately in the direction of her life-gifting touch, craving her attention, constantly repositioning to her, as if she was the compass they had searched for decades without success. As if she was the sun to the sunflower in them. But not only the flowers reacted to her; even the grass seemed more green and lush in its color.

Morpheus wasn’t able to take his eyes off her—neither physically nor mentally. Not with the deeply felt emotions crashing against the high walls around his mind like a strong and wild tide, resembling her being. She might look like the damsel in distress, but all of a sudden, the Lord of Dreams knew with shocking clarity that she was anything but the damsel in desperate need of an assisting hand. And not just that.

He knew her.

A change within him followed this realization.

He felt the moment in which every single memory returned to his soul unscathed. Morpheus could flick through them like the pages of a book, and every picture was as clear as the sky of the Waking World above his head. He could remember their wedding vividly—remembered her smile as radiant as the stars above them while they promised to protect, cherish, and love one another.

Forever.

Whatever might lay ahead of them on their path through the centuries and eons.

Both brows softly rose over the pair of eyes, always lacking something in their depths which they held once without any doubt. The spark was there again, though—Death could see it clearly, could even feel it. The stars inside the blue seas attempted to return, but the hesitation of the Endless still too powerful to let them have their way.

Morpheus watched the woman, the goddess, his wife, with growing desperation from afar, feeling agitated. His only desire was to cross the street, to put the humans in his line of sight and Death behind him, wanted to pull her into his arms after he had stopped right in front of her. He wanted to see her face, to hear her voice, to feel her soft touch which had always reminded him of water gliding over stone, of a breeze caressing through the tall-growing grass and wheat in the Dreaming, of raindrops stealing daringly kisses and touches of petals and leaves.

He wanted everything from her she once had given him without so much as a fleeting thought.

Unbeknownst to himself, the King of the Dreaming and Lord of Dreams had taken a step closer to his very own dream, not paying any attention to his sister in his back or the raven that had landed on a branch next to the goddess. His black eye observed his boss looking dumbfounded over at the woman who resembled the most beautiful blooming flower ever seen by mortals and otherworldly beings.

And though she was above the Waking World, once a ruler of the Dreaming itself, she slowly sank down in front of a little girl, a tender expression settling on her face. The girl held a dying flower in her open palms; the stem snapped off the remaining plant and looked equally as crushed as the petals. Matthew smiled—as good as possible as a bird—at the picture of her softly raising her hand and returning the flower to its once beautiful existence, making the girl giggle and smile widely. YN smiled back—Morpheus felt as if his heart missed several beats at once—before resting a finger against her lips, and the girl nodded in understanding before rushing over to her mother, showing her newest possession proudly.

She raised back to her feet, and without a glance over her shoulder, she spoke up. “You can come out, raven, whose name I still do not know.” Matthew felt exposed but followed her words and landed softly on her shoulder. “Goddess,” he mumbled, and YN chuckled gently. “Ah, I see. And there I was, wondering why you did not leave just yet. Someone told you, I suppose?” He was able to take a glimpse of her eyes, and the raven would have to lie if he told the world they weren’t as mesmerizing as Lucienne had described them to him. Nodding, the raven made himself a bit more comfortable on her shoulder—if he had to choose, he would take her shoulder over his boss’s every time. He hoped no one would ever find out about that. A heavy sigh left her parted lips. “Then you surely must know that I am of no use anymore.”

Ever since she had awoken in the Waking World, YN had tried to find a way back into the Dreaming, back home. Before her—obviously not definitively—death, she had had the powers to come and go as she had pleased, but now, all there was left was silence and coldness. She couldn’t even feel the Dreaming anymore, which only let appear one conclusion in the front of her mind, and she didn’t dare to think about it further. In the first hours and days of her awakening, she had cried enough tears to form an entirely new river—unpurposely, of course.

Matthew cocked his head and tried to stare into her eyes. “No use?! What are you talking about? I call bullshit.” YN now herself cocked her head, mirroring the raven on her shoulder what he didn’t like, but was humored nonetheless. “So, you are a funny one. That did not happen in a very long time. Usually, ravens tend to be so earnest.” The raven had to chuckle at that. “I’m unique. But stop honey-ing me, missy! Care to enlighten me why you think you are useless?”

Now, every lightness was gone from her face, eyes, and body language. He could feel her muscles tense under his talons. “I cannot return. I cannot return to the Dreaming, not even after offering my powers. I cannot feel it.” I cannot feel my home, she thought to herself before continuing. “And if I cannot feel the Dreaming, the only possible reason is…” YN couldn’t speak it out loud but had to, so she took a breath. “The only reason is that he is dead. And without him, I cannot return home.” I do not wish to return home. Because what was a never-ending existence without the one she loved more than every flower, leaf, and music tune?

Matthew raised his head slowly, looking from the profile of her breathtakingly face over to his boss, still standing there like a damn tree growing roots. He saw how Death softly nudged him in their direction, and if he had a saying in this, he would’ve shoved him like there would be no tomorrow. Instead, he himself gently nudged her jaw to make YN turn her head. “But what if he is still here?” Matthew asked at the exact moment her eyes had found the man of her dreams.

And suddenly, everything stopped. There was no movement, no breathing life, no growing life. Only stasis. Except for them. In a very long time, YN hadn’t felt this much alive, not even in the wake of her awakening a handful of months back.

Morpheus could see the movement of her lips, letting no sound escape them—the sight of it brought him back to the memory of her last breath he had been damned to only observe instead of trying to save her. But other than a century before, she didn’t lose the spark of life in her eyes, didn’t go limp, didn’t show any signs of injuries or blood consuming the fabric of her clothes before it dripped onto the grass beneath her feet.

No, she was the epitome of life, and her light fueled him with something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: Hope. Happiness. Love. And he should be damned if he didn’t get to her only because he feared that this was his very own nightmare which he had conjured himself to torture his already tortured soul. He couldn’t lose her a second time. He wouldn’t lose her a second time.

With slow steps, even though he ached to stride over to her as fast as possible, he put the grey world behind him and stepped into the green paradise he yearned to have back in his life, in the Dreaming. His realm wasn’t itself, not without its queen. The soothing calm wrapped itself around him and his mind, caressing him softly with every step he took. It resembled her touch, but he knew that her skin against his was something even more glorious and ethereal. Something divine beyond comprehension.

None of them broke the contact of their gazes; they revolved around one another like planets in the grand universe, interdependent, as if one was the source of gravity of the other. Morpheus wasn’t sure if he should reach for her, if he should let his fingertips glide up her bare arm. But she took the burden of said decision upon herself as YN reached out for him, desperation and fear written all over her beautiful face, crystal tears burning in her eyes which just changed their color from the light blue of a summer sky to the evergreen of a dark forest. He felt as if his heart stopped beating entirely the moment the tips of her fingers were able to reach the back of his hand.

Both sucked a deep breath into their lungs, and while YN’s lips softly parted in utter surprise, Morpheus’ steps faltered. Inches still separated the couple, but he slowly turned his hand under her fingertips, moving it to let his palm face upwards, to feel her touch there because he suddenly remembered particular scenes throughout their existence. He was faced with the feeling of tender touches and the feeling of home; her fingertips following and drawing the lines on his palm, always while they lay together in their shared bed during the early morning hours, before she would press a feathery kiss to it and laid his hand atop her cheek to close her eyes for only a few more minutes. He felt the adoration swirling through him, knew that he had craved those moments every morning—even after centuries, after eons of their loving routine.

And even now, after everything that had happened to both of them, Morpheus felt his heart jumping in his chest as YN let her fingers glide over the upwards-facing palm. He watched her as closely as she watched him, her touch moving over the tender skin of his wrist before they lost contact again due to the fabric parting her touches from him. The woman in front of him took a last step in the same heartbeat as he took his last step toward her, not holding back anymore.

His hands cupped her neck lovingly, his long, elegant fingers reaching to the back of her head, his thumbs tenderly brushing over the line of her jaw. In the same instance, YN had buried the fingers of her left hand into the fabric of his black coat while her right hand cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing the skin above his cheekbone. Their gazes were still connected, diving into the deep seas, yearning for every emotion swimming in those dark pools.

“Morpheus.”

Her unbelieving whisper of his name—as if it was a prayer—was his downfall. Without wasting another second, another breath, another heartbeat, the Lord of Dreams bent his head and eyes closed at the mere anticipation before their lips collided in softness and loving movements. The desperation and urgency needed to wait for a different moment in the confinements of their private rooms in the Dreaming. Their passion had never been secondary, they had always heavily indulged in it, even if the timing was anything except perfect, but now, neither of them could think about something more important as the realization that this wasn’t another dream—or nightmare—that this was reality instead.

The reassurance of this fact in the form of tender kisses they shared without stopping to take a deep breath was more than enough. But even they had to part at some point—foreheads softly pressed against one another, fingers tangled in silky strands, chests fitting perfectly together, eyes still closed, savoring this existence-altering moment.

“I thought…—” YN’s voice was quiet, breathless, filled with fear and agony. She didn’t need to complete the sentence because he figured what she was trying to say. So all he did first was move his head to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I am here,” he whispered against her skin, feeling her body relax under his hands. He would never leave her again or let her leave, even if he had to fight every single creature the world had to offer. “I… I am…” YN’s mumbling almost got lost between the shake of her voice and Morpheus wrapped his arms around her, pressed a hand to the small of her back while the other buried itself in her long curls, pulling her closer to his chest, enveloping his wife in the most protective hug. “Do not apologize. There is nothing to apologize for, love. I am just glad I have gotten you back, gotten another chance to spend eternity with you. I am beyond grateful to finally have you in my arms again where you belong, my dream.” His whispering was as tender as the leaves around them, and YN felt her heart flutter like an excited bird shortly before it rose into the sky at the sound of the endearment reserved explicitly for her.

YN let her eyes fall shut, savoring the long-missed and lost feeling of his incredibly soft lips, remembering the Afterlife filled with the same sensation but different all at once. It had been insipid; a weak, dull equivalent to his counterpart in reality, and she had missed him there even more fiercely as if it would have been the case if the Afterlife hadn’t been so cruel to her soul.

Her fingers tenderly caressed through his night black strands, hearing and feeling him sigh in utter contentment. “Morpheus,” she whispered his name again, this time with her lips almost at his—already touching them with every syllable of his name. “I told you I would find you.” The corner of her mouth slowly raised at his deep but quiet chuckle, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around her, pulling her even closer to him, if that was even possible. Their eyes met again after a short but equally as lovingly, and heartwarming kiss as the ones before, and the Lord of Dreams pushed a curl behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. YN looked up to him almost pleadingly, even though they both knew that Morpheus could never refuse anything his wife asked of him.

“Bring me home.”

;

Morpheus had his eyes closed, breathing slowly, while every sensation was heightened, beginning with the familiar heavy feeling of her head lying on his shoulder and ending with the tickling touch of YN’s fingertips following slowly and reverently the lines in his right palm. They lay like this since they returned to the Dreaming, immediately strolling through the palace and into their rooms, ignoring everyone around them, only having eyes and a place in their minds for each other.

They had to wait if they wanted to see their queen again. It was his turn now.

“What happened?”

Her voice was as soft as it usually was but held an edge of curiosity and resentment. Her fingers didn’t stop even as YN turned her head to look up into his face, and the man opened his eyes to watch her, though he felt the memory rising behind his eyes and in the front of his mind, unable to unsee it. And she had a right to know.

His hand, which had rested on her bare shoulder where he had caressed her skin with tender strokes, moved up to her head and started to brush through her hair. It had always soothed him and his mind, and he felt relief flowing through him at the realization that it was still the case. “It took a century before I was able to escape, but… I could not leave without seeking vengeance for what he did. Not to me, but you.” YN was quiet, but her eyes told him she listened intently to his every word. So he continued. “My ruby brought him immortality for the time in his possession, and it was the first thing I took back from him. I watched him starting to wither in his sleep, knowing that his dream had changed with the sensation of something happening to him. I waited until he awoke, waited until he realized it was my doing, and watched with satisfaction the moment he realized his end was coming. I promised him eternal torture and started with it myself.”

Morpheus knew that he had been cruel to this human, but he also knew that he wasn’t as cruel as he should’ve been.

YN stopped caressing his palm, and the Endless watched her face, not moving his gaze, not even as he felt her hand move upwards to cup his jawline. He slowly let his eyes fall shut only at the feeling of her thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek, leaning his face into the touch he had longed for over a century. “I really thought I could save you, my love,” she whispered and leaned her forehead against the other side of his face, nuzzling her nose against the skin of his neck. Morpheus pressed a loving kiss to her hairline. “I know, my dream.” He fell silent for a moment before speaking up again—pain audible in his voice. “Do not dare and try it again. Will you promise me that? I cannot watch you die right in front of me again. I would not survive it.”

His queen softly pushed herself up with a hand resting on his chest, right above his strong beating heart. Her eyes—morphing from an emerald green to the shades of the morning sky after the night retreated—watched him with the softest expression while she nodded, barely visible. “Will you promise me not to find yourself in situations and positions which require my unintentional sacrifice again?” A smile started to tuck at the corner of his lips, and YN gently chuckled at the sight of it. “I will promise you that, my Queen,” Morpheus smiled nonetheless up at her, covering the hand still resting over his heart with his own.

He looked down at the missing feeling of something pressing against his palm. YN seemed to notice his changing expression and looked at her bare ring finger as well. “I woke up without it,” she whispered, sadness etched into her tone at the memory of the missing ring her husband had given her. It had been the most beautiful ring ever made, decorated with two beautiful gemstones—a dark blue sapphire, reminding her of his eyes, and the other the darkest emerald ever seen because it had been the color of her eyes at their first encounter. YN didn’t know where it vanished.

He got a hold of her bare hand and pressed her fingertips onto his lips to pepper gentle kisses on them. “I will make you a new one,” he vowed with the soft tone reserved entirely for her ears.

But he didn’t need to because only a moment after the words had left his mouth, a knock interrupted their peace and tranquillity. YN was quick on her feet and crossed the grand room to open the door, facing a wide-eyed Lucienne. “My Queen,” she bowed her head, but both women searched for their hands, and YN gently squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Lucienne,” she smiled, and the librarian couldn’t contain her smile as well. “I apologize for the intrusion, but Death found something I suspect you missed.” And with that, she opened her other hand in which laid, atop a velvet piece of fabric, her missing ring. “Where…?” Her friend only shrugged gently. “She didn’t tell us.” Nodding, YN took the ring and pressed it against her chest. “Thank you, Lucienne.” Her voice was laced with joy and longing, and the librarian bowed again. “I will leave you, but don’t hesitate to visit the library. The books miss you dearly.” With that, Lucienne turned and left, and the woman closed the door again and walked back to the bed with Morpheus still atop the covers.

She opened her hand after settling back on the mattress next to him, letting him see the ring resting on her palm, and the Lord of Dreams smiled down at it. He took the delicate jewelry between his fingers and slowly pushed it back into its place, back home on her finger, so everyone could see to whom she belonged—though nobody in the Dreaming needed a reminder of that.

“Welcome home,” Morpheus mumbled, lips against lips, and enveloped his wife once again in his loving embrace to hold her as close as possible, not thinking about letting her leave his arms anytime soon.

;

Okay, so, I hate the end, but I’m really bad at writing endings naturally, so we have to deal with this one. Hope y’all enjoyed it tho :3 As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

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fadingsnow · 9 months

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Hello! I hope you’re good 😊 I’m just getting in touch with a Sandman request, I would love to see a piece where Dream joins reader for a swim! This might not be something you want to write, so no worries. Also it doesn’t have to be NSFW, but take it anywhere you want! I just think he’s got a whole dream ocean, the potential is there 🌊

MIDNIGHT SWIM - DREAM x f! reader

SUMMARY AND TW: When you enter the Dreaming, you realize just like the human world, there's oceans as well, so why not go for a swim with the king of Dreams?

A/N: I hope you don't mind I did not add nsfw content, I just didn't know how to really add it in here :)!

You understood that the Dreaming would forever hold a place deep inside your being, a cherished sanctuary where love and dreams intersected. Or all, since Morpheus is the personification of dreams. And with Morpheus by your side, you would continue to explore the realms of the Sleeping Marches, together, as one. Perhaps he had finally taken you seriously, when you always made jokes about swimming with him in the large ocean that exists within the Dreaming, a vast realm filled with different possibilities. You could hardly think about swimming though at the moment, as you fell asleep, your head hitting the soft pillow with wishes of seeing the Sandman with all his power.

You found yourself standing at the edge of a tranquil ocean, surrounded by an ethereal glow that emanates from the Dreaming. The peaceful waters shimmer in hues of midnight blue, reflecting the stars hanging in the sky above. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of anticipation tugging at your heart. It was hard to even believe such a thing existed, it was so vast, filled with some unknown mysteries under it. Maybe, you'd just stay only close to the surface.

As you gazed upon the serene scenery, you suddenly became aware of a figure approaching from the distance. With each step, the soft grass beneath their feet seems to whisper with reverence. It is none but Morpheus, the lord of dreams himself.

His dark, flowing hair cascades over his shoulders, as if mimicking the undulating movements of the Dreaming. His eyes, deep and endless, hold a warmth that belies his title as the ruler of the realm. His presence alone fills the air with a serene energy, drawing you closer with each passing moment. He tilts his head at you to give you acknowledgement, a warm expression shown on his face.

Without a word, Morpheus extends his hand towards you, a silent invitation to join him in the depths of his kingdom. You take his hand, the softness of it, feeling an electric spark at the contact. A smile graces Morpheus' lips as he leads you toward the edge of the ocean.

His piercing silver-blue eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a glimmer of rare vulnerability. "Would you care to join me for a swim?" he asked, nervously, as though he hesistated and thought that you would reject his offer.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you took his hand, feeling the weight of anticipation and exhilaration build within you. As you lowered yourself into the water, a soft warmth enveloped your body, and your senses became keenly aware of every sensation.

Morpheus moved with grace and fluidity as he swam beside you, his obsidian hair dancing upon the water's surface. His presence was magnetic, as if the very essence of dreams and imagination pulsed through his veins. It was as if the Dreaming itself had come alive in his presence.

With each step into the pristine waters, ripples of anticipation dance across your skin. The Dreaming greets you warmly, embracing you as its own. As you wade into waist-high depths, Morpheus guides you further, until the water envelopes both of you.

Together, you begin to swim, the silky touch of the Dreaming's waters caressing your skin. As you move, your synchronized strokes create a symphony of tranquility, a dance between mortal and ethereal, as if the Dreaming itself is responding to your presence.

Morpheus' eyes never leave yours, his gaze filled with an understanding that transcends words. In this intimate moment, the boundaries between reality and dreams blur, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the depths of the Dreaming alongside him.

At last, the two of you found yourselves floating gently beneath an ethereal waterfall, one that seemed to cascade into infinity. Droplets danced upon your skin like stardust, mingling with the memories of countless dreamers who had passed through this realm.

Morpheus drew closer, his features illuminated by the celestial glow. His eyes searched yours, searching for confirmation, for consent, for a desire that matched his own. And in that moment, with the realization that the Dreaming held a love between you that was boundless and all-encompassing, you gave yourself to him.

With every stroke, you feel a sense of freedom wash over you, a release from the constraints of the waking world. The weight of your worries and burdens vanish, replaced by an inexplicable connection to the infinite possibilities of dreams.

Time seems to lose its meaning as you and Morpheus enjoy this moment of pure intimacy. The water cradles you, its embrace a testament to the boundless love that exists between you. In this surreal landscape, you immerse yourself in the joy of being with Morpheus, knowing that this union transcends the boundaries of reality.

As the moon casts its gentle glow upon your entwined forms, you both emerge from the embrace of the Dreaming's waters. A sense of contentment washes over you, leaving behind memories that will never fade.

Morpheus turns to you, not being able to decipher his thoughts, perhaps that's one of the qualities of being an Endless. He simply walks over to you, and plants a soft kiss on your lips, in which you give back. "I'd take you anywhere throughout the Dreaming to make you joyous." He murmured in your ear, putting little kisses on your neck.

In that moment, you realize that being able to swim in the Dreaming was not just a mere encounter, but an affirmation of the love that blossoms between you and Morpheus. He chose for you to go to the ocean in the Dreaming, because he loves you.

#lord morpheus #make this go viral #lord morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus #morpheus x you #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #king of dreams #dream x y/n #sandman x reader

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darklinsblog · 2 years

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Morpheus being jealous of Matthew

Morpheus saw how close you were with Matthew and that lighted in him and odd sentiment of… discomfort?

No, it was different. It was jealousy

At first he tried to deny it, simply because it was stupid for him, a mighty entity, to be jealous of a bird.

Especially because said bird was an extension of him, Matthew worked for him

But that did not change the truth.

Because every time he would see you laugh at one of Matthew’s comments, a fire would set on him.

He tried to play it off by capturing your attention

But the ways he would do it, would rise confusion in you.

He used his cat form when around you at times when Matthew was not around.

Morpheus would brush his fur all over your legs, wanting to leave his scent on you.

It was a way of marking you as his

Although you adored his cat form and you liked to scratch in between his ears you were still confused

There was truly no reason for him to not use his normal aspect, or well… the aspect you knew him by.

It wasn’t until one day, where Morpheus was curled up in a ball in your lap until he felt the presence of Matthew around making him hiss as an immediate response.

Learning about his jealousy was amusing and unexpected

You would not shut up about it.

Neither did Matthew, feeling some sort of empowerment having made the king jealous.

“It’s not like I could do anything, boss. I’m a fucking bird!”

“…raven”

“Same fucking thing”

Turns out you just needed to talk things out

You found out Morpheus felt distance growing between the two of you, which lead him to feel insecure.

So you needed to reaffirm your love and devotion, to quiet down his demons.

“Next time you feel like this, do talk to me before recurring to your cat form”

Which he did

But he still used his feline aspect from time to time.

It became some sort of inside joke between you.

Tag list: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay

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igotanidea · 4 months

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Gift shopping : Morpheus x reader

Christmas bingo day 17: gift shopping

She loved Christmas. Truly. Every tradition, every dish, every carol. All that came with the holiday season.

Except one thing.

Gift shopping.

Wondering around the stalls trying to figure out what the donee would like was a literal nightmare. Doing her best to choose something better and at least a bit more original then the scented toiletries set became equal to being slowly burned on the stake in her mind. The hell was she supposed to know what smell of a body wash would her cousin like? Or what colour was her aunt's favourite?

And that itself wouldn't even be the worst if it wasn't for the advertisements coming from every way giving her anxiety.

But when she suggested that maybe the family could do one year without the presents they all gave her as condemning looks as if she was at least an antichrist.

Damn.

She was putting off this duty for so long, repressing it from her mind that in the end, she was forced to rush through the shops at the last minute, feeling the pressure on her shoulders. Which was also bad for her self esteem cause y/n was always considered the one with the greatest and most creative ideas.

Yes, but only given the right amount of time, not acting in a hurry.

But what she didn't expect was to end up sleeping on her desk one night and getting some help.

Once she opened her eyes, she was in a quite different place. Yes, it did look like her hometown, but giving a strange vibe that only confirmed her beliefs that she was in fact far away from reality.

"Lucid dreaming" she muttered to herself with a deep sigh. Waking up (sort of) in dream's domain and co conscious about it could only mean one thing. She was here for bussiness. Morpheus wanted something from her, cause he rarely did things selflessly. "Dream of the endless!" She called "how can I be of service to you today?!"

The silence was the only answer she got, and such treatment made her groan in frustration. She really didn't have time for silky games with Dream, the duties falling upon her shoulders...

"you are in the only place when imagination knows no bounds and you dare complaining?"

"I'm merely thinking." She retorted crossing her arms. "Lord Morpheus."

"long time no see y/n"

"don't tell me you missed me or something."

"one cannot really miss the way you address him"

"that's not the answer. Why am I here?"

Dream didn't answer instead turning his back to her and starting walking ahead not even caring whether she follows.

Which she didn't not really wanting to give him satisfaction of complying. At least not until the ground started cracking behind her and she was forced to rush after dream, causing about him acting like a kid.

"Morpheus." She said getting bold enough to use his name even though he ignored her once again. "Morpheus." She repeated, foolishly hoping for another outcome but it was futile. "Lord Morpheus" finally the official title made him look at her with tiniest amused smile.

"yes?"

"why am I here, um- consciously?"

"your imagination seems to be running short."

"not sure if that's an offence, state of facts ot reveling that you were stalking me..."

"you think too much of yourself" he said with the flat voice leading her across the dreaming bridge

"then why-?"

"I'm going to boost it"

"boost what?" Now she was almost running after him trying to keep up the tempo pretty sure he was making her move slower on purpose. "My imagination? Why? To prove you are better or something? You're the lord of the dreams, damnit, a creature of centuries old. I think it's pretty obvious you are more qualified in the ideas subject than me."

He didn't even give her a word of response, guiding her inside the palace to the ground where no one else was allowed to and it was making less and less sense by a second. And since asking questions was obviously pointless she decided to just settle on observation. Taking it the huge Christmas tree, decorations placed here and there and colours that seemed to take over the whole palace. It gave such a contrasting vibe to the usual outlook of the place and dream's character that it left the girl with eyes wide and mouth agape.

"you did this?" She whispered almost feeling the warmth coming from the interior instead of darkness and gloominess.

"dreamers did" Morpheus retorted sternly, but time it had a tone of softness to it. "It's the only thing on their mind of late."

"you could have prevented it though. And didn't." She smiled "never took you as for a fan of festivities"

"why?" Dream seemed truly interested about it.

"why?" There were so many reasons to assume that he didn't enjoy Christmas but she was not going to bring them up "I don't know. Maybe I was being judgemental, sorry. It is actually pretty beautiful. Holiday spirit kingdom of dreams" she pointed out, her gaze now resting on the boxes under the tree.

"You can open them."

"i can what now?" She frowned in confusion even though her hands were tingling in anticipation to see what was hidden inside "why?"

"cause you lack inspiration." The answer made her frown even more.

"and you're really going to help me out here?" There was this little fear in the back of her mind that if she didn't follow the order she would actually encounter some nightmares on her way. "Why? Why would you--" it made zero sense. She was just a human with no greater meaning. A human, whose path happened to cross with Dream's when he was retrieving his attributes and restoring his kingdom back to greatness. She meant nothing, right?

Right?

Dream didn't make it easy on her giving her the silence and just pointing towards the packages stacked under the tree. Leaving her with no choice but to grab the closest one and pulling at the ribbon, innate curiousity taking over.

However, before she could actually take a peek inside -

"y/n! Y/n wake up! We've overslept! We'll be late for classes!"

Shit.

Y/n could not care less about adulting, duties and classes right now, torn from the Christmas version of the Dreaming, groaning at the lost opportunity of seeing what Morpheus considered a gift. And getting her imagination boosted. Once in a lifetime opportunity cause she was aware Dream would not be generous again.

Shit

But her still hazy mind, slowly started working and much to her surprise she found out, that even without seeing the box in the Dreaming actually got the gifts ideas.

***

"did your family like the presents?"

"they actually did, thank you" she smiled softly as the familiar dark dressed silhouette joined her on the bridge. She has been watching the skaters on the ice rink, not really expecting company but dream's appearance was actually warmly welcomed.

"it was all you who did this. It was your imagination"

"Maybe. But it was only because I was given the right incentive" her eyes sparkled a bit as she gave him a happy look "thank you Morpheus, even though I still don't understand why you did it. Guess I'll be left waiting for some sort of collecting the debt on your part" she chuckled before turning head back to watch the people skating.

Maybe that was why she missed the tiny amused smile formed on Dream lord's face.

The smile that was screaming without words.

This was not a debt he was going to collect in the future. Not when it came to her.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #lord Morpheus x reader #Christmas bingo

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thebatshitcrazyfangirl · 10 months

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Sleep Of The Corrupt- Morpheus x Goddess!Reader

Hello all! Sorry for not posting in a while, I had some health issues and struggled to get back into my writing schedule. But I am back now!

Summary: “Sleep Of The Just” AU. While searching for your daughter, Elaina, you’re summoned and imprisoned by Roderick Burgess. Mistaking you for Death, he demands the resurrection of his son and other unworthy gifts. Instead of fulfilling his demands, you make him realize his horrific mistake.

TW: None really. Cosmic horror (heavily inspired by H. P. Lovecraft). Some fluff, some angst.

WC: 8.4k (Oof…)

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

“Ellie!” You shouted down the palace corridors and in every room, frantically scouring from top to bottom for your little girl- only to come up empty.

This wasn’t like her. Your daughter never ventured beyond Fiddler’s Green and the House of Secrets. No matter where she wandered, Elaina was always under the trusted supervision of dreams, while you and Morpheus tended to your realms and responsibilities.

An irritated huff heaved from your lips as you strode down another corridor. This stressful game of hide and seek was beyond exhausting. Alas, you and Morpheus have no choice but to play.

The abrupt sound of a slamming door clapped through the air like thunder, ascending into the rapid approach of Morpheus’s footsteps.

“Any sign of her?”

He shook his head. “None. The dreams and nightmares have found no sign. Even Jessamy has had little luck.”

“We’ve been searching for hours. How have we not found her?” You huffed in distress, wringing your hands as your thoughts spun in overwhelming worry.

If she was nowhere to be found, then wouldn’t that mean- No. Elaina couldn’t leave The Dreaming on her own… Not unless-

Your heart sank, crumbling into lifeless dust at the horrific possibility. Stressful tears glazed your eyes, lighting your nerves ablaze in a dreadful panic.

“Love, we’ll find her.” Hands warmer than sunshine caressed your shoulders in soothing circles. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. Effective as always, your body slowly relaxed in his arms; against all maternal intuition blaring like an alarm, begging you to search for your daughter. “It’s likely she just wandered off farther than usual.”

“Beyond a dream’s reach?” You muttered dejectedly into his coat. “What if she’s not even here?”

“That shouldn’t be possible unless she had an escort. Besides, where would she go if she had the chance?”

Your eyes grew wide. There was a realm Elaina was highly affiliated with, one she loved to visit every chance she could.

Your birthplace. The Waking World.

“How did we forget?” You grumbled, suddenly pulling yourself from the embrace.

“Forget what?”

Unlike Morpheus and his siblings, your divinity was gifted to you nearly two decades ago, after the former Goddess of Chaos passed her crown and abilities down to you. The succession ultimately stripped you of most of your mortal life; all except your loving parents.

“If she could go anywhere, would it not be The Waking World? To my parents?” You asserted, turning down the corridor in bolting strides.

You both knew how much your parents adored Elaina. Since the day she was born, they were instantly wrapped around her little finger. They spoiled her rotten and treated her like a princess, showering her with new toys and pretty dresses every chance they could.

There was rarely a weekend or holiday where they didn’t invite you and your family over for dinner, or offer to keep Elaina for sleepovers and day trips. (Perhaps to give you and Morpheus some ‘alone time’; hopefully resulting in more grandchildren, you theorized.)

“It’s a valid theory, but an unlikely one,” Morpheus argued as he caught up to your hurried pace. “My dreams are always watching over her. They would’ve noticed her leaving with an escort.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s still a possibility, and far more favorable than others.” You paused your pace and spun to face him; already expecting the heavy skepticism gracing his features.

“One hour. Allow me one hour to search my old home, while you continue the search here. Please,” you negotiated and pleaded with a desperate look in your glistening eyes. “For the sake of my sanity. Before we consider the very worst.”

Morpheus sighed in thought, considering every outcome of your plan.

As much as he loves and adores you, you were still the embodiment of Chaos. He couldn’t deny the potential havoc your mere presence could wreak on The Waking World. Even with your totems, which stabilize and hinder Chaos’s effects, it was still risky. Especially during a world war.

However, if you remained true to your word and wore your crown and pendant, an hour in The Waking World would hardly cause any impact.

“One hour, and not a moment more.”

You smiled in victory, launching yourself to the tips of your toes, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I won’t be long.” You promised, before disappearing in a whirlwind of black fire.

You stood before your parents’ home, dark and eerily quiet; not a soul to be found.

Must be out at the tavern, or visiting a friend, you reckoned. An irritable groan rumbled in the back of your throat as you strode down the road with tears brimming in your eyes.

Every hope you had crumbled into dust. Your worst fear has come to fruition. Your little girl was missing; only protected by the Fates’ mercy, wandering whatever realm in careless adventure.

What if she’s hurt? What if I’m too late? What if-

Breathe.

You halted your feverish pace; standing in the gentle trajectory of a cool breeze. It whipped through the sleek satin of your crimson gown in flowing waves, effectively cooling you down.

It was oddly refreshing; recollective in a way. Your thoughts slowly simmered down into a hushed calm, refined to focus on your next move.

“Ellie!” A child’s voice echoed in the distance.

Your vitals halted, skipping several beats as your eyes bulged out of your skull. It couldn’t be, could it-

Your feet moved on their own, taking off into a violent sprint through poorly lit alleyways and side streets.

With every step, the distant, delighted giggles grew louder and clearer, filling the crisp air and echoing into the inky night. You rounded every corner frantically, chasing after the laughter like your life depended on it. Please be her, you prayed. Please be her…

The series of small streets led you straight to the laughing culprits- two young girls swinging on a swing set in a park. Of tangled midnight and sunshine tresses you could instantly pick out of a lineup.

You could finally breathe, praising all the stars in the sky that your daughter was safe. You should’ve known Shivering Jemmy was watching over her, upholding her role as Elaina’s self-sworn protector. The little Lord of Chaos has never left her side since she was born, destined to be her partner in crime from the very beginning.

“Where did you find this place? It’s amazing!” Jemmy exclaimed, thrusting her legs forward to swing higher.

“My grandma brought me here when I stayed over last week,” Elaina said, kicking a rock with her filthy slipper from under her lavender nightgown, thickly caked in mud and grass.

The little vein on your forehead was about to pop. You and that nightgown are getting scrubbed with a brush when we return home…

As quietly as you could, you approached the girls and leaned against the swing set’s A-frame with your arms crossed.

“A bit far from home, are we now?” You said suddenly.

The girls nearly jumped out of their seats. Jemmy dragged her bare feet against the gravel, sputtering to a halt. As white as phantoms, they slowly turned to face your impending wrath.

“H-hi, Mommy…” Elaina greeted in uncertainty with large (E/C) glossed over in a silent plea as her lower lip jutted out in a quivering pout.

“H-hello, Your Grace…” Jemmy muttered quietly with a bowed head.

“Are the play gyms at home no longer to your liking?” You asked with a stern edge to your tone.

“N-no, no, it’s not that!” Your daughter exclaimed, flinching at her loud, impolite tone. A solemn frown fell over her face. “It’s just… I had so much fun when Grandma brought me here, I wanted to show Jemmy. I won’t do it again, I promise! Please don’t be mad, I’m really sorry…”

A small, sad smile twitched on the edges of your lips. You should be angry, you know. You should scold her for disappearing from The Dreaming. You should forbid her from leaving the palace for at least 10 years; solely for the stress and upset her little adventure sparked.

No, you were far too relieved to be angry with her. Jemmy, on the other hand, was a different story…

“I’m not mad.” You shook your head as you settled in the empty swing beside your daughter, swaying back and forth in a gentle rock.

“However, you cannot wander off like this again, Ellie. Not even with Jemmy. Realms like The Waking World are not like The Dreaming, it’s very dangerous to be alone here. That’s why it’s important that someone like me, Daddy, Grandma, or Grandpa are always with you when you’re here. Do you understand?”

Elaina’s dark brows furrowed at your warning. “Why is it dangerous here? Are there monsters?”

Your gaze shifted, falling on the amusement gleaming in Jemmy’s eyes. Oh, if only Elaina knew the irony in her interest…

As products of Chaos, you held the ability to bend Reality itself to create unspeakable horrors and magnificence alike. Powerful in every sense, it struck fear in those who knew the vast scale of your prowess.

Because of this, you’ve been called a monster more times than you could count. Shivering Jemmy even more so. Often by those who were more monstrous than you could ever be, ironically.

“In a way… Most beings are friendly and kind, but some are cruel and monstrous. Some that wish to hurt others…” You said with caution, not wishing to scare her. “That’s why you always need to be careful here. Alright?”

“Okay.” She nodded through a yawn. “Can we go home now?”

“Of course.” You smiled as you stood, holding a hand out to her. “It’s far past your bedtime, sweetheart-”

Here in the darkness…

A chant echoed in the recesses of your mind, growing increasingly louder with every step you took. You froze, suddenly paralyzed by excruciating pain unlike any other. It felt like you were being ripped apart-

Here in the darkness…

You fell to your knees, eyes glistening in fresh tears, choking and gasping for air. What’s happening?

“Mommy! What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Elaina cried, crouching beside you, watching in complete terror as grainy smoke slowly engulfed you.

Here in the darkness…

It took all you could not to scream. The smoke was like a torrential current, pulling you under with unbridled force. You don’t know how much longer you can hold on…

With the last of your strength, your eyes locked with your most trusted Lord of Chaos. “G-get Mor-phe-us!”

You let go- suffocated in unfeeling darkness.

Here in the darkness…

“I give you a coin made from a stone.”

‘What is this place…?’ You stirred in the void.

Here in the darkness…

“I give you a knife from under the hills, and I give you the blood from out of my vein…”

‘Ugh…’ The void lightens in a crimson hue.

Here in the darkness!

“I give you a song I stole from the dirt, and I give you a feather pulled from an angel’s wing for you to lift up into the heavens…”

Slowly, you ascended from the depths, towards a growing light.

Here in the darkness!

“I summon you with poison!”

You choke; your floating body contorting in unbearable pain.

HeRe In ThE dArKnEsS!

“I summon you with pain!”

‘Yes. Very much in pain…’ You screamed silently into the void, thrashing against its soul-crushing depths.

HeRe In ThE dArKnEsS!

“I open the way, I open the gates…”

‘Let me out!’ The light grows brighter, blinding and burning…

HERE IN THE DARKNESS!

“I summon you in the names of the old lords. Namtar, Allatu, Morax… Maborym calls you. Horvendile calls you. We summon you together. Come!”

Cold and hard as Reality’s forge, you fall from your otherworldly prison onto stone tiles with a sickening thud. Your ruby crown slipped from its place atop your head, and your matching ornate pendant smacked harshly against your jaw and clattered into your tresses from the brutal impact.

A pained hiss huffed against the stone faster than you could stop it- a sharp ache erupted on the side of your skull in strong, harrowing waves. Faintly, you could feel blood seep in thick rivers from the fracture’s wound, tangling your disheveled strands and staining the tiles below.

You winced at every sharp shift of jagged bone mending back in place; slowly subsiding into a dull throb beating in sync with your pounding heart.

Had you retained your mortality, you would be lucky to be alive, or hindered with severe mental impairments. It was a wonder you were still conscious, even with your godliness rushing to your aid.

The room erupted in hushed whispers and startled gasps. You peeked under the strands of hair slipping over your face. Archaic summoning, based on the binding circle and sigils used. Black robes and hoods? Occult perhaps? Cold stone floor and no windows that you could see. A cellar?

“Alex?” The caster’s voice called out. You slammed your eyes shut as a shadow loomed over you. “Alex!”

You cracked an eye open, as small, timid footsteps slowly approached beside the caster. His face was hard to see, but from their stature, they were young. Perhaps five years older than Elaina, if you were to guess.

“Get that crown for me,” the man barked. “But be careful. Don’t break the binding circle.”

Heedful hands reached forward and gently untangled the woven strands around the crown’s ornate frame.

“Hurry, boy!” The boy gasped in panic, ripping the last few strands free with a sudden tug, and handed it to the man.

“Hmm. Gold and rubies.” The caster inspected it before handing it off to one of his disciples.

You repressed the urge to smirk. They must not know who you are, or the true purpose your jewels served…

“Now the jewel. There.” The man pointed to the dazzling gem around your neck. The child reached forward and snatched the ruby. “Good.”

Fools, you nearly broke your façade.

“Well, let’s see what other treasures you have for us.” The caster said with beaming eyes, as he reached forward and grabbed the neckline notch of your fiery bell sleeve.

“What barbarity…” Your amusement loomed through the air with the cold, harsh sting of venom. The grip on your sleeve was abruptly released with shaken gasps and scuffling footsteps. You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling over with a triumphant grin aimed at your captor. “Disrobing a vulnerable woman? What a disgrace you must be to your lover and mother.”

The man smirked, an unspoken equal to your taunting quips. “Awake, are we?”

You nodded, shifting to your knees under your crimson skirt. “I’ve been. Your spell work is impressive, however, flawed.”

His smirk fell with disdain, rousing your own. “Though, I suppose it performed as intended… Somewhat.” You rose to your feet, radiating the very essence of power- of a true goddess. “So, what do you want?”

“I captured you under the laws of magic. Therefore, I command you, Death, to return my son Randall, who died in the Gallipoli Campaign. If you give him back to me, alive and well, I’ll release you from this binding circle. A fair deal, wouldn’t you agree?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, suppressing every mocking quip running through your mind.

Oh, this is rich!

“Barbaric and benighted… I’m afraid your demands are impossible to fulfill.” You smiled, enjoying the fallen look plastered on his face. “Death cannot revive the dead. Especially souls long passed on and corpses reduced to dust and bone. Your efforts are fruitless, Summoner.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, nor the entire truth. There were other ways one could revive the dead- albeit at an extravagant cost, often a life for a life, or paired with severe consequences. Something he may have considered, given his talent in magic. Perhaps he refused to get his hands dirty or aimed at cheating the age-old rules of magic.

“Resurrect him,” Your summoner pressed with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “If you wish to regain your freedom, you’ll answer my command.”

Your jaw clenched in your simmering irritation. “Do we speak in different tongues? Death leads souls to the afterlife, not back. Therefore, your request demands what cannot be done. No matter how untimely, Death makes no mistake. Your son was destined to die that day, and you cannot change that!”

Your summoner reeled back in disbelief, abhorred by your words.

Calm down…You sighed deeply, recollecting yourself from your burst of anger. “Please forgive my harsh words, it was incredibly insensitive of me. You have my condolences, I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child. But death is never the end. When your time comes, you shall be reunited with your child on the other side. That’s the only solace I can provide.”

“So, what can you give me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Since you refuse to fulfill my request, I ask this in compromise: If I were to let you go, if I promise to give back your jewels… Power? Wealth? Immortality? Is there anything you can offer me?” The caster asked with a supercilious smirk.

Your lip curled in disgust. He’s demanding ransom for your tools now? Divine rewards for your freedom, for your totems’ theft, for ripping you away from your daughter?

“All I will offer is my word not to curse you and your followers.” You snarled in rising fury. “Release me and return my belongings and I shall forget this encounter ever happened. You’ll live out the rest of your days in peace, so long as you never cross paths with me or the Endless again.”

His eyes hardened at your harsh tone, visibly dissatisfied with your offer.

“Take the deal.” You hissed through gritted teeth. Your totems’ absence was taking its toll. Chaos’s full effect ran rampant in your veins like pure adrenaline, fanning the flames of latent corruption and masked madness, engulfing all semblance of morality and sanity in mayhem’s blaze. “It’s my most generous offer, given the circumstances. Consider yourself fortunate. Had you summoned any other member of my family, they would not be as kind.”

“Well, then. Make yourself at home in your binding circle. Until you are ready to comply, I’ll enjoy the gifts you’ve already given me.”

A cold, dark cackle echoed throughout the room, sending devastating chills down the followers’ spines. Many glanced at the exit, ready to sprint from your sinister presence at the drop of a hat. “You truly believe a chalk drawing will contain me?”

Scarlet lighting pricked along your fingertips and sparked the surrounding air ablaze in midnight cosmic fire. With each flicker, your power spun hazy tapestries of bleeding crimson stars and humming supernovas, emanating a horrific sense of fear your summoner had never experienced.

What fools they were, they realized too late.

This wasn’t Death. The caster realized in horror, unable to look away at the eldritch magic spinning from your fingertips in glowing waves. “W-what a-are you?!”

“Reality’s nightmare, so to speak.” You smiled darkly, watching the flames of Chaos roll from your fingertips in curling wisps. “You should’ve taken the deal, Magician. All this could’ve been prevented…”

With a twist of your wrist, the golden binding circle floated from its stone canvas and twirled around you at waist level. The gold cracked in a ruby-red glow, streaking slowly around the ring in lightning-like divots.

Your summoner stumbled back with eyes wide in disbelief, watching in horror as weeks of preparation fell effortlessly on the verge of destruction.

A devious, taunting smile curved across your lips, savoring the fear in his eyes.

With a flick of your wrist, the binding circle shattered.

“Why is it that when something goes awry in this prison, I’m somehow to blame?” The Corinthian huffed in disinterest, twirling his bloody blade while rocking lazily in his chair. His mud-covered heels propped up on the library table, dragging sludge in crusty streaks across the grain.

Lucienne wrinkled her nose at the mess, glaring daggers into the nightmare’s skull.

“Given your rogue nature and hatred of me, it’s hardly unreasonable to question your potential involvement.” Morpheus nearly growled from across the table.

The search in The Dreaming resulted as you predicted: Elaina was nowhere to be found.

Evidently, the Corinthian’s whereabouts were a bit of a mystery. Morpheus was aware of his murderous escapades in The Waking World; kidnapping, amongst other horrific crimes, was hardly beneath him.

Morpheus gritted his teeth and dug angry crescents into his palms. If possibility became reality, if the Corinthian hurt Elaina in any way, he wouldn’t hesitate to condemn him to fate worthy of his monstrosity. Morpheus already had more than enough reason to destroy his creation, why not make him beg for his demise?

“You really think so ill of me?” He chuckled, tapping the tip of his knife against his smiling lips. “See, if I truly hated you, I would’ve found some way to be rid of you once and for all, and kill that spoiled little brat. As for that powerful beauty you call a wife, I might keep her around for my entertainment… I’m certain she’s a screamer in more ways than one.”

“Do you wish to be unmade? Watch your tongue if you value your existence.” Morpheus hissed through his teeth as his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

A mocking laugh fell from the nightmare’s lips. “Is that your favorite threat? You’ve over worn its impact long ago. It’s just another one of your empty threats-”

“Enough!” His voice boomed in a burst of sinister rage, reverberating in powerful, poignant waves. The library shook with an earthquake’s wrath, toppling magnificent chandeliers and infinite bookshelves to the floor into crashing heaps.

“I’m in no mood to play games, Corinthian.” He warned in a dangerous tone. “Did you harm my daughter? Yes or no?”

All amusement fell from the nightmare’s face, slouching in his chair with a huff. “No.”

“Did you abduct Elaina?”

“No, I didn’t take your kid.” He asserted with an aggravated sigh as he lifted his feet off the table. “As much as I hate to rat myself out, I wasn’t in The Dreaming much today. If you don’t believe me, there are eyes all over your domain, right? Ask any of them if they saw me today; especially before your kid disappeared.”

“Where do you claim to be when Lady Elaina disappeared?” Lucienne inquired.

He smacked his lips together in thought. “Out.”

“So, The Waking World then? Indulging your bloodlust, no doubt-”

“My point is, I had nothing to do with Elaina disappearing. It may come as a shock, but the brat is terrified of me. Every time our paths crossed, she’d dart in the other direction. She’d never let me anywhere near her without screaming her head off.”

He chuckled to himself. “How ‘bout that… The King of Nightmares’ kid is easily frightened. Heh. What a treat...”

Silver eyes scanned the nightmare’s demeanor in harsh scrutiny. All taunting remarks had vanished (mostly) and his inflection felt genuine (for once!). Though he was a brilliant liar and skilled manipulator, Morpheus felt inclined to believe him.

And it drained him of all hope.

Perhaps he was too confident in the Corinthian’s involvement; too focused on ending this heartbreaking search.

He just wanted his little girl home; safe and sound.

“Daddy!” A child’s voice screamed at the top of their lungs, as the pitter-patter of tiny feet rumbled through the library.

Morpheus’s sunken heart leaped in his chest- whipping his head around with enough force to snap his neck.

Please be her…

Instant relief washed over him in icy waves; darting across the piles of strewn books and broken glass, with tangled midnight tresses, and speckled from head to toe in a thin layer of grime, was his missing daughter.

“Ellie…”

He fell to his knees with his arms extended wide in welcome, careless of the glass shards cutting through his pants. Tears streamed down the young girl’s face in trembling rivers. She sprinted as fast as she could into his outstretched arms, waiting to engulf her shaking frame in a bone-crushing embrace.

He could finally breathe, as mountains of stress and worry dissipated into thin air.

His hope was restored.

Elaina was home.

“I told ya it wasn’t me…” The Corinthian remarked snidely, shifting back in his seat with blatant disinterest and boredom written on his face.

“‘I’m sorry! I’m s-s-so sorry!” She sobbed in breathless heaves against his shoulder.

“Darling, you’re safe. That’s all that-”

“No!” Elaina cried, ripping herself out of his arms. “There-therewasthisstrangesmoke-and-and-Ididn’tknowwhattodo! Thisisallmyfault! WehavetogosaveMommybeforeithurtsher!”

“Take a deep breath and calm down.” He said in a soothing voice, wiping her streaming tears away with his thumb. “Now, tell me what happened-”

“Ellie!” Another child’s voice called from outside the library. “Where are you?”

Jemmy?

Ragged blonde hair scurried through the entrance. Her wide, mischievous eyes now shimmered in odd distress as they fell on the scene. Without a thought, she sprinted over the scattered mess at a frantic pace and latched a relentless grip on Morpheus’s coat sleeve.

“Come on! Let’s go! Let’s go! We gotta help her!” Jemmy exclaimed, tugging on the sleeve and dragging him towards the door.

Confusion distorted his handsome features. Never had he witnessed these girls behave so distraught and hysterical.

“Girls, tell me what has happened!” He demanded, tugging his arm out of Jemmy’s grasp.

Elaina sniffled. “S-Something took Mommy…”

And just like that, all sense of relief lit furiously ablaze once again.

He froze; stunned and dumbfounded, with wide eyes shining in panic. A deity’s capture was unheard of. Cosmic divinities, such as the Endless and unique gods like you, made virtually impossible prey; even by magical means.

Your captors were either formidable foes or fools graced by dumb luck.

A forced smile curved across his lips; despite his worry and rage crashing over his being in devastating waves. Despite every compelling desire to hunt your captors down like animals and inflict a hell worthy of their actions. (If you hadn’t already). Despite everything, the need to protect you and Elaina took precedence above all else.

“Elaina,” he called out softly. Her tearful (e/c) eyes gleaming with guilt and panic met his own, sending a twinge of pain straight to his heart.

“Don’t believe for a second that you caused this. In no way is this your fault. Dry your tears, darling. I’ll bring her home.” His hand wiped the lazy streams rolling over her cheeks and tucked her dark locks behind her ear.

“Alright.” The Corinthian huffed as he emerged from his seat. “You got what you wanted. The brat’s safe. Can I leave now?”

“You may,” Morpheus grumbled, glaring lethal daggers at the nightmare. “Leave The Dreaming again, and I will uphold my every threat. Remember, my dreams are always watching...”

The Corinthian rolled his eyes beneath his glasses; falling on Elaina with a sinister smirk.

The young girl squeaked in distress and cowered into her father’s chest. Morpheus wrapped a protective arm around her in a makeshift shield, glaring a look of a thousand threats at the nightmare.

An animalistic growl rumbled from The Lord of Chaos like ominous thunder; quick to root herself between her best friend and The Corinthian’s vile gaze like a defensive wall.

“Heh. See you around, kid.” He laughed as he sauntered out of the library.

In slow shifts, Morpheus relaxed; only daring to drop his arms from around the frightened girl when every trace of the nightmare’s presence had vanished.

The theatrics of his departure consumed more time than he’d liked. There was no telling what sort of torture you were enduring; or inflicting. He needed to leave soon. Your safety and Reality’s stability depended on it.

“Darling,” Elaina lifted her head with a frown at his gentle tone. “I want you to stay with Lucienne until I return with your mother. Alright?”

With a sniffle, she nodded; throwing her arms around him in one last hug. “Be careful, Daddy.”

He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Always.”

Pain. Infinite agony.

Swallowed whole by the corrupted dark and vast emptiness, Burgess crumbled to his knees under the pressure of dreadful despair and maniacal lunacy. The vast abyss resonated in a tormented cacophony of his followers’ frightful screams and deranged cackles. Some begged for death, while others wreaked in its promise. What horrors could warp their minds to such a degree?

“How does it feel, Summoner?” your voice echoed beyond the distorted cosmos.

Burgess stared into the abyss with panic; all rational sense failing to comprehend this cruel reality.

“Confined in an endless cage of my creation…”

This shouldn’t be possible… This cannot be possible! How did it come to this? He followed the grimoire’s instructions down to the punctuation! How could the ritual mistake the Angel of Death for a Chaos Goddess?

With what little strength remained, he lifted himself to his feet. In his hurried desperation, he stumbled- trampling over his writhing followers, either falling into Death’s welcoming embrace or shoving them to their untimely end.

An extended hand shot out instinctively to catch his fall, colliding with the barrier’s edge. Burgess smiled, reveling in the faint glimmer of hope coldly brushing against his fingertips.

So even reality-manipulating deities have their limits, the man mused. How pitiful.

With the wall as his guide, he lurched into a sprint.

“Is this not the fate you designed for Death?”

Boom…

Colossal footsteps rumbled like a devastating earthquake. His teeth chattered and knees wobbled under its violent intensity, he clung to the invisible wall for dear life.

“Had you been competent enough to catch her?”

Burgess shuddered at the brutal chill in your taunts and ridicule. What had he done to be punished so harshly? He only sought after what any grieving parent dreamt of achieving by any means necessary. Any entity with a shred of decency or compassion would recognize this!

No, he supposed a chaos demoness like yourself could never understand. Your monstrosity was beyond mercy and reason.

“Ignorance is bliss, my foolish summoner…”

Boom…

Intense tremors reverberated in such ungodly strength, Burgess was surprised the vibrations didn’t shatter his bones. He needed to move; he knew. Your footfalls were drawing near, albeit at a sinister snail’s pace. Staying put was suicide, running away guaranteed grave injury in his old age.

As the rumbles died, Burgess bolted. He gritted through the strain ripping at his joints, desperate to get away. If he could somehow evade your wrath and wait out your patience, perhaps he had a chance of escaping with his life and sanity-

BOOM!

His balance rocked and wavered in a fatal stumble; stomach clenching in surprise, quickly throwing a hand out to catch his fall. But found nothing.

With a screech, Burgess fell.

The inky darkness faded into a spectacle of roaring colors and freezing devastation. He screamed, twisting and contorting in an oscillating tunnel of blue and purple clouds twinkling in stardust, plunging into the heart of the universe; the soul of reality.

“Wandering blindly into the dark unknown, far beyond this vast and magical reality…”

Fearful eyes widened as the screech of rushing comets and planet-sized meteors whistled past him in blazing intensity. Stars around him buzzed and blazed in a sweltering dance of dust and light, raising thick beads of sweat on his brows.

Burgess couldn’t move, barely able to shield himself from the bursting blaze of dying stars. Fiery cinders seared like blazing bullets through clothes and bones alike. His cries of excruciating pain and babbling pleads fell on deaf and uncaring ears.

Utterly helpless, an unfortunate victim of reality’s wrath, he plummeted further into the maddening dark.

“Stranded before otherworldly truths and horrors mankind was never meant to witness…”

Swirling galaxies and glittering supernovas warped into a scarlet hollow faintly cracking in thunder’s roar. It emanated a heinous stench- something akin to burning brimstone and rotting meat. It seemed to loom in thick, noxious billows, weaving through the bloody chasm with strange sentience.

A living creature this far down?

Through watering eyes and bile burning his throat, he observed the strange fog dancing in helical patterns through the void. They seemed to move with purpose; for what, he did not know. Besides spreading its horrendous funk.

An improper omen, Burgess realized quickly; a vague warning of what waited in the darkness below. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what real horrors lingered beyond the shadows of time and space.

His eyes widened in their behold, witnessing firsthand the unholy creatures of madness and nightmares.

Beyond misty trails and beats of thunder, the raucous, high-pitched cries of a thousand broken flutes blared in a toneless tune. It was deafening- maddening; ringing in his eardrums like amplified tinnitus.

To his right, short humanoid creatures with pale gaunt faces and fibrous bat wings swarmed a twister-covered islet. They flailed in a strange dance, almost mindlessly, to the blaring broken wail. The rampant vortices easily swept their fluttering bodies in their currents- even that failed to hinder their ridiculous dance.

To his left- may the gods have mercy- colossal tentacles coated in thick scales and blister-like pustules emerged from the dark in sluggish sways. Their scale was incomprehensible; one languid swipe could destroy planets! The godless beast could swallow entire star systems, he feared.

“Lest what semblance of sanity rots into chaos and madness.”

Burgess’s eyes fell forward, to his sanity’s dismay.

Before him was the center of it all. The creator of beasts. Primordial madness.

It was an eyeless cyclopean entity; a bloated and unsightly mass of bulbous knots covered in leathery tendrils and mucus-like sludge. Rows of razor-sharp teeth lined the infinite orifice masking its featureless face; ready to devour any careless creature that fell into its jaws.

Much like Burgess.

His lips peeled back in a hopeless grin under his powerful sobs, cachinnating in a crazed chorus under the flutes’ insipid tune.

So this is the truth behind madness? Behind reality itself? He wondered in chortling delight, falling straight into the jaws of fate.

Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Randall of this wondrous truth! Of all the majestic, abominable marvels lying dormant at reality’s edge!

This truth… Reality’s glorious truth! It was far superior to power or wealth, beyond the hollow values of humanity and sanity’s restraints.

Here, he was a tiny insignificant speck about to be swallowed by a cosmic leviathan, and never felt more doomed and freed.

***

You hummed with a smile, hovering above the crafted reality with amusement in your fiery eyes. The nonsensical ramblings of madmen never ceased to amuse you. Especially those driven to the brink by your own hand.

A low chuckle spilled from your lips. Oh, how you missed this! Basking in chaotic corruption was such an invigorating thrill! You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so free; so unhinged.

Fiery darkness danced at your fingertips in weaving flicks, fabricating every twinkling star and horrid monstrosity alike. This reality is becoming one of your favorites, you think. It was inspired by the terrifying dreams Morpheus had created for an aspiring writer in America. You were captivated by the concept of unfathomable deities from the depths of the cosmos, able to influence sensitive minds through dreams and evoke chaos and madness with their presence alone.

You wonder what inspired the idea…

Screams of pain pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced into the void- oh, how wonderful! Your summoner impaled himself on a colossal tooth in the monster’s gullet.

You laughed in sadistic delight, watching him wriggle and writhe in his last heaving breath.

Well, that’s no fun…

With a jerk of your finger, Burgess slid off the tooth in a sickening squelch as the gaping cavity in his chest laced back together like a corset- just enough to keep him alive a little while longer.

Much better! Now then, what else could you inflict on your pompous captor-

“Love, that’s enough.”

You froze; paralyzed by a voice softer than silk. All baleful thoughts halted in their fiery rant, instantly snuffed out by calming tidal waves.

A gentle hand slipped past the cosmic flames’ flicker and curled over your own- silencing every violent and vengeful desire Chaos had spurred in an instant.

His joy clashed with your rage. His hope battled your despair. His light defeated your darkness.

Regretful tears rolled in rivers down your face and fell into the corrupted reality below. How could you have strayed so far? How could you abandon all the goodness that he taught you?

How could you let yourself become the monster so many believed you to be? Including yourself…

You gripped his hand as tight as you could, clinging to the warmth of his touch, terrified of letting go. Of losing control again.

Guilt washed over you with a hurricane’s wrath. Your actions reverberated like a torturous echo; the screams of terror, the pleas for death, the horrific pain your rage created…

What have I done?

In resisting flickers, the blazing black flames slowly suffocated into a dying hush, compelling Reality’s unravel.

***

“Argh-”

THUD!

“Ugh…” Burgess stirred in the bone-shattering pain coursing through his body. He groaned into something cold and hard like concrete- The belly of the beast? The bottom of reality?

He lifted his head with a sharp jerk, his forehead gleaming in a sheet of sweat and eyes wide with madness- darting in hyper dashes all over the room.

How odd… Wherever he was, it took the likeness of his cellar. No- that can’t be right! Perhaps his new surroundings were so unfathomable, his mind replaced its nonsense with memories.

His thoughts cackled as he rolled onto his back in a careless flop. How curious… The clarity of his memories was exquisite! Insignificant details seemed to burst off of the constructed reality his memories painted. Every speck of dust and cobweb beamed with undeniable certainty; even his (surely) deceased followers writhing and groaning in their stupor beside him seemed too real.

“Love, it’s alright,” Morpheus whispered softly over your muffled cries.

“I-it happened a-again… It’s a-all m-my f-fault…”

A furrow creased Burgess’s white brows; he didn’t recognize that voice. This was a memory! He was certain! Who was this man? How did he get into his head?

Burgess turned his head towards the voice with a twitch in his neck and sparkling paranoia in his eyes. The man was tall like a tree with a face paler than snow and dressed in a black darker than the night sky. He nearly towered over a woman dressed in red, wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace and holding her close to his chest.

Another entity perhaps-

That woman! The ethereal goddess of Reality’s truth! Is she an alternate version of the other deity? Was this still a memory, or did she submerge him into another reality? One with secrets that demanded to be explored?

No! No! No! His mind still spiraled in the truth of his former plane of existence!

His sanity would surely combust if he faced another truth!

“…let’s go home,” Morpheus said, and you pulled from his embrace with a sniffle.

“M-my totems…” Your tearful eyes glanced at Burgess with strange sorrow.

What for? He should thank you! Praising you, worshiping the ground you walked on for opening his eyes to reality’s wonderful truth!

The man’s steel eyes followed yours, hardening instantly with contempt.

“I’ll handle it.”

Burgess jumped back with a trembling hiss like he had been burned by the entity’s searing stare. His eyes of steel seemed to pierce far beyond flesh and bone, beyond the blood pumping erratically in his veins, and the fluttering ventricles beating out of his chest. He pierced something much more hallowed and precious. Cold and relentless, it intended to punish several lifetimes over.

Billows of fine sand suddenly engulfed the entities into a grainy vortex. His trembling arms were quick to shield his face from the sand’s whipping wrath.

As quick as it appeared, the wind died down- and the entities had vanished.

Burgess did not sleep that night.

He couldn’t- he wouldn’t. No- they’ll be waiting for him in his dreams! Those eldritch monsters beyond reality’s veil, lingering in the chaotic dark… Waiting. Biding their time for God knows what.

To swallow the universe whole? Wreak chaos and destruction to every plane?

He paced his study in a hysterical flutter. The pleas of his followers and physicians, even the desperate cries of his son couldn’t reach him. Their voices were all drowned out by the blaring sound of cracked flutes.

It was stuck in his mind, playing on a relentless loop like a tortuous record. Ear-splitting and harmonious, a monotonous symphony!

No! He refused to let his guard down. The dark couldn’t be trusted!

Burgess halted in his pace; dashing to his desk and grabbed a pen from its well.

Godless. He sprawled messily over a loose page. Those abominations were far beyond any god’s reach. Perhaps they were gods themselves…

“How could I be so blind? Randall-” He spun from his desk, facing a cheerful young man in military attire sitting comfortably in an armchair across the room. “My boy, don’t you see? Those monsters must be gods! Everything- molecules, elements, magic!- it all stems from them somehow-”

Meow…

For one blissful, merciful moment of clarity, the consuming madness within him froze in dead silence. A small sense of rationality glimmered in his eyes like diamonds, turning cautiously towards the subtle mew.

Black as night, sat a cat in the lurking shadows just beyond his study’s threshold. Its slitted eyes shone like a freshly minted sixpence in the moonlight. What a magnificent little creature.

Burgess approached the dark feline slowly in cautious measures. His canines pierced the thin delicate tissue of his lips with more force than he knew. Faint crimson streams trickled undetected down his chin in lazy rivers, too immersed in the creature before him to notice.

With a lithe leap and a skip of the man’s heart, the mysterious feline pranced with grace down the corridor. Burgess stuttered in his dash, nearly tripping over the ornamental runners striping the hardwood as he staggered into the hall.

The cat seemed to wait for him; patiently perched on the ornate curtail of an iron-wrought spiral staircase. How odd…

“Wh-what d-do yo-you want?!” The feline only blinked its moonish eyes; unfazed and uncaring, it ascended the staircase.

Every few steps, it would cast those strange eyes over its shoulder, as if it was assuring he followed into the attic space. A sweat broke over the old man’s brow, he heaved in anxious whimpers as paranoia hindered his every step. It was impossible to think; the thunderous pounding of his heart muffled his thoughts, fanning an overwhelming sense of fear like a rousing fire-

Perhaps this was an envoy of sorts from Reality’s Protectress; perhaps to open his eyes once again.

What was there to be afraid of? He knew the Truth; the Goddess protects the Truth; Therefore, She will always protect him!

Anticipation outweighed anxiety; he dashed up the stairs behind the cat with a maniacal smile smearing his face.

His eyes locked on the cat’s back, watching in wild mania as it strutted towards a black ornate chair seated in the corner of the circular attic. It hopped and circled the cushion, sitting powerfully tall in its center; somehow radiating the elegant essence of a king. The feline flashed its silver-slitted eyes in its rest, blinking at Burgess in a torpid blink.

“Hello.”

A dark voice suddenly called out, inciting a surge of fear and dread within the madman. His eyes grew wide and tumbled back in shock, mumbling incoherent huffs and babbling nonsense. Sitting before him sat a shadowy man with eyes of angry white stars burning into his skull.

The man from before, the one that comforted the Goddess. The one that embedded unwavering fear into his soul.

“N-no…” The man shook at the shadowy man as tears of terror rolled down his cheeks in trembling streams. “Please! Have mercy! I beg of you!”

“Have you any idea what you have done? The torment you inflicted on your own mind and to her?” The dark deity asked calmly, with striking eyes sharpened in rage. He rose from his black throne to his full intimidating height, slowly approaching the whimpering madman sobbing on his knees. “Can you even fathom the damage you could’ve done to your world?”

Those eyes… Colder than ice and sharper than a knife. Utterly relentless in slashing his delicate soul into ribbons! What had he done wrong to deserve his wrath? She gave him a gift! The gift of sight, of freedom, of Reality’s Truth- the glorious Truth!

Burgess cackled through his tears; all fear dissipating under the blissful warmth of this bestowed knowledge. This painful, burdensome, unholy knowledge.

“It was a wonderful mistake! I sought the Angel of Death- instead I gained something much, much more valuable! That woman- that Goddess! She opened my eyes and showed me horrors I can never unsee! They live in my mind now and feast on my brain- how incredible! It hurts! It hurts… Her reality is too cruel, too monstrous to bear. Please, have mercy on me!”

Morpheus frowned at his ramblings, cocking a brow in confusion.

What Chaos ravaged his mind? What reality had you created for this man?

“If her Reality is too cruel, perhaps my Dreams will be kinder.” The deity said as a sudden gust of wind whipped through the room. Through wide, fearful eyes, Burgess watched as wisps of dark thundering clouds emerged from the attic’s shadows, splitting the air in storming light.

The man shrieked as the looming storm drew closer, throwing his arms over his head in panic.

“Don’t fret. Your punishment shall be a gift…” Morpheus reassured, lowering himself before the cowering madman. “I give you this… The gift… of eternal… sleep.”

A hand unfurled before the entity’s lips, blowing sparkling waves of golden sand across Burgess’s eyelids.

Eyes of lead drooped in slumber’s dark embrace, screaming in a nocturnal silence that stirred his raging mind. With no fight left, Burgess surrendered to his nightmarish fate.

***

“Father! Father! Please wake up! Please!” A hysterical child cried, shaking Burgess’s arm as he whimpered and thrashed in his sleep.

“Doctor, what’s wrong with him?” A blonde woman asked, dabbing the chilled sweat from the man’s wrinkled brow.

“Blood pressure is normal, lungs are clear, no fever, no signs of trauma… His coma has no apparent cause, I’m afraid.”

Morpheus loomed like a shadow in the bedroom’s threshold with a cold glint in his eyes as they fell upon the sleeping man. His punishment was kindness; entrapped within the darkness of sleep, he was free from the Chaos that ravaged his mind, unable to hurt or capture another soul ever again.

For targeting Death, for ripping his wife from the arms of their daughter, all in the name of a reckless endeavor- this was the most compassion he could muster for this horrid man.

Neither in Dreams, nor in Reality, will you ever know peace again, Roderick Burgess.

He slipped down the corridor like a thief in the night, set to reclaim your stolen jewels.

Luminous moonlight streaked The Dreaming’s sky in pearlescent radiance, shining brightly in harmony with twinkling stars on the midnight canvas. Most nights, the cosmic brilliance elicited a sense of wonder and happiness; even more so when wrapped in Morpheus’s arms.

But tonight, it felt cold and empty; a terrible reminder of the horror you conjured.

You leaned on the balcony’s stone rail, bathed in the silver light with a cheerless frown aimed at the stars. Harsh thoughts swarmed your head like berating bees, slowly eating you away into an emotionless husk, numb to everything around you.

“Love?” A warm hand brushed over your shoulder, hardly shaking you out of your thoughts.

“Did that man lose his mind?” You asked in a sorrowful voice, eyes still pinned on the vale below.

“He did.” Morpheus said reluctantly as a sad frown claimed his features. “However, from what I gathered, grief and obsession has taken a drastic toll on his sanity. Madness was destined to claim him with or without your hand.”

“And what of the others?” Your question quivered over a lump in your throat.

His hand fell from your shoulder, gripping your fidgeting hands, and tracing soothing circles into your skin. “Flustered. But they’ll recover. They’ll only remember what occurred as a harmless nightmare.”

Your brows twitched in a brief crease, a faint twinkle glossing over your eyes, but only for a moment. So distinct, but unmistakable under his observant gaze; the faint embers of hope flickering in Chaos’s torrential gale.

“Here.” A hand slipped into his coat pocket and retrieved your pendant, glinting in gilded opulence under the silver moon. A sigh of relief fell from your lips with a thankful smile. Morpheus stepped behind you, looping the necklace over your front and fastening the clasp behind your neck.

You closed your eyes as the pendant fell over your heart, basking in the waves of relief flooding through your chest, washing away every speck of dread and despair weighing you down.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, (Y/n). After all they’ve done, they were more than worthy of your wrath.” He said, spinning you around to face him as he pulled your crown from his pocket. “In this instance, your corruption was just.”

He gently placed your crown atop your head with his hands falling to cradle your cheeks. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, sealing it with his own.

Your eyes fluttered shut with a smile, as all turbulent thoughts fell in peaceful silence. Numbness and despair melted away into joyful warmth, as all you could feel now was Morpheus.

Your light in the darkness. Your hope in despair. Your Dream in this chaotic nightmare.

Feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoyed!

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