#modern!morpheus
Text
If I Dream Hard Enough
Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?
Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end
Masterlist
You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there.
You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching.
The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin.
After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.
Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well.
When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you.
“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight.
“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt.
“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway.
“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it.
“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house.
When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you.
“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance.
Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands
“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.
“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily.
The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats.
“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.
“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”
“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots.
Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again.
“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”
“Um, she’s not-”
Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.”
“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward.
“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”
“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.
“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back.
Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver.
===
You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume.
“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.
“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead.
“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug.
“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”
Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant.
After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday.
The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling.
“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob.
Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes.
You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs.
“Goodnight Mommy!”
Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.
“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway.
Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night.
Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve.
A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one.
When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.
“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs.
From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization.
“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.
“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale.
“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks.
He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment.
You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside.
“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card.
“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back.
Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade.
“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!”
“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?”
You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working.
“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately.
“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”
“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath.
“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM.
The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell.
When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago.
“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird.
Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.”
“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.
“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head.
“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.”
He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed.
Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth.
The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room.
“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet?
“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.
“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”
“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice.
“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment.
The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise.
“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows.
Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you.
“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.
She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger.
“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature.
You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”
“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you.
Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look.
“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…”
Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?
“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.”
Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline.
“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose.
“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes.
He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out.
Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent.
“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.
Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away.
He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain.
When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again.
“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth.
The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower.
The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky.
When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.
Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years.
Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest.
The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas.
“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap.
Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home.
“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.
“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.
A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”
A few more seconds go by.
“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.
“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this.
“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow.
“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions.
Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room.
“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.
“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her.
“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.”
Yeah, she’s too bright for her age.
“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case.
Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine.
You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin.
The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it.
You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason.
“How are my girls?” He responds.
Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it.
“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”
“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”
“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again.
Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep.
“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again.
“Goodnight, my dove.”
The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours.
The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead.
Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap.
You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes.
After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales.
You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.
Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend.
You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow.
Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you.
You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted.
The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out.
Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too.
Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief.
A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down.
You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here.
You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”
“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words.
“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door.
“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.
You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed.
You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did.
You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room.
You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.
Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.
“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks.
You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases.
“Do you want to spend the night with me?”
You nod again.
He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open.
He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside.
“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”
Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes.
Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks.
“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart.
He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him.
He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”
You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after.
You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm.
“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear.
His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts.
He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same.
His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most.
You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.
“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect.
You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?
“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles.
You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away.
“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand.
You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.
“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there.
His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed.
Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent.
You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm.
“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants.
“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues.
He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that.
Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch.
��Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands.
Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit.
He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm.
Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer.
“Come for me,” He growls into your ear.
“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad.
“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit.
“Now,” He commands and you do.
The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants.
You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked.
“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm.
A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.”
“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”
It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep.
“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says.
“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine.
“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”
Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.
Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.
Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D
Have a lovely day
♡ Yours, Layla
#the sandman#dream of the endless#morpheus#morpheus x reader#dream x reader#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless x reader#the sandman fanfic#sandman x reader#modern au#modernau!dream x reader#morpheus x reader smut#lord morpheus#the sandman netflix#dream the endless#morpheus smut#dream of the endless smut#dream x reader smut#the sandman x reader smut#modern!morpheus#modern!dream of the endless
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Finding contentment in the act of venting and listening~
#the sandman netflix#fanart#dream of the endless#morpheus#matthew#digital art#just let them be happy-ish#sobs#i think sometimes the smallest things mean the most#feels like dream will find matthew confusing at first#with all that modern vernacular#but he starts to appreciate his raven just being there
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Fandom: The Sandman (comics vs TV show)
Sample Size: 1,301 (comics); 4,048 (TV show)
Source: AO3
NOTE: Do not compare colors between charts
#dream of the endless#morpheus#hob gadling#the corinthian#lucifer morningstar#calliope#desire of the endless#destruction of the endless#modern johanna constantine#johanna constantine#the sandman#sandman#fanfiction#ao3#statistics#phantom statistician#dream x hob#hob x dream#morpheus x hob#hob x morpheus
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— DRISSON —
Lord Morpheus X Modern AU! Male Reader
SUMMARY: Reader works for Morpheus Dream, assistant of The Dreaming company that makes medicine for people who suffer with sleep. He is the assistant of Dream who helps him out in any way possible until his family sends a wedding invention. His little sister is to be getting married and forcing him to bring a date when he doesn’t have one. Dream decides to join him to this wedding and fake their way through it.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, modern AU, desire and death have different names, endless children, mentions of autism, sighs of autism, Morpheus is a gentleman, humor, language, weddings, fake dating trope, slow burn-ish, mentions of Lucifer, company issues, slight possessive Dream, reader has autism.
『 Chapter One 』
『 Chapter Two 』
『 Chapter Three 』
『 Chapter Four 』
TAGS: @un-namedmalereader @fanficsforheartandsoul @boulevardofgalaxies @byler4lifeblog @gaysimp614 @mfairycow @1s3v3n1 @mypsychoticlove @horrfilm @flintthegoodboyo @the-ultimate-librarian
|| If you wish to be tagged comment below! ||
#male reader#lord Morpheus x male reader#lord Morpheus#the sandman#the sandman x male reader#autistic male reader#modern AU series#dc imagines
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Some random Toddler Dream doodles for ya’ll
#I drew one with his big blue eyes and to keep going xD#my art#dream of the endless#Morpheus#the sandman#jessamy the raven#human dream#sandman modern AU#don’t worry he gets a hug when he’s crying#(i do have a story idea for it but its kinda weird and based soley on like A hurt/comfort vibes then actual plot)#(actually now i think about it its basically A Little Princess AU in a way?)#baby Dream AU
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may I offer you:
Morpheus and Orpheus
Hob and Robyn
Trick-or-Treating Meet Ugly
#Orpheus and Robyn: instant besties#Morpheus and Hob: Enemies to Lovers#modern au obviously#dreamling
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dreamling but gibson girl flavored
#i know dream had shorter hair by this time but shh#it’s for the aesthetic#attempting to draw tm#fanart#dreamling#the sandman#dream of the endless#sandman morpheus#hob gadling#don’t ask me what his hair looked like either#I just know it was kinda similar to his modern hair#both of these men are hard to draw#sorry if they don’t look right
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No really important information, just a moment of smut headcanon about this Hob with this Morpheus.
Warning!: dubcon (?)
Hob sincerely doesn't understand what is happening to him today.
Hob is really fascinated by this stranger with his passionate studying gaze and sly smile, so he doesn't wait a hundred years to get acquainted and follows him right after their short conversation, catching up with the mysterious man at the door and not letting him leave the tavern.
Usually he doesn't molest either men or women, or anyone else, especially so persistently and impudently. He is a bandit, not a rapist, although often men in his village prefer to combine this. But the ale is noisy in his head and boils in his blood, and the handsome stranger doesn't resist, only looks at him so attentively and mockingly. Arrogant and contemptuous, he looks at Hob as if he is a worm under his feet. And something in Hob's mind clicks because of this, he just gets angry and doesn't notice how at some moment the stranger is under him, pressed against the nearest table covered with bread crumbs.
No one stands up for an unusual man, doesn't push Hob away from him. Not even shouts of approval or rude condemning words are heard. And only then does Hob realize that the tavern is completely empty. There is no one else besides them. Besides them and the silence, broken only by their ragged breathing.
The stranger remains silent, but the caustic smile has disappeared from his lips, the sharp look has been replaced by a wary one, and his hands wrapped around the shoulders of the man hanging over him.
It takes only a few seconds, seemingly an eternity, before Hob presses a demanding kiss to the stranger's lips. His long cassock is pulled up, gathered at the hips because of Hob's greedy hands, which immediately rush to explore the soft sensitive skin under it. The skin, not covered with anything but a rough cloth. No underwear, no trousers, just a naked pale body trembling under Hob's calloused palms.
The submissiveness of a stranger makes him mad. He sincerely doesn't understand why this sweet creature has so much trust in the person he sees for the first time. And even to someone who looks so terrible.
Shaggy oily hair, dirty clothes. Hob even smells disgusting, he can honestly admit it. Sour ale, greasy stains, strong echoes of smoke. But stranger smells delightful. Petrichor, cold sand, leather and, it seems, flowers? Not at all what you usually expect to find in the 14th century.
He is a terrible animal compared to him now, and he really feels shame, but also a greedy unbearable desire.
Therefore, very soon their bodies intertwine, and then the stranger moans and whines quietly, and clings to Hob as if he is the whole world and the meaning of his entire life, while he is busy, leaving kisses on his body, neck, beautiful scarlet lips. But to be fair, Hob admits that this stranger has become the meaning of his life, too.
At the same time, Morpheus observes from his world of this shameless and absolutely indecent dream of sleeping Hob and, after a short reflection, comes to the conclusion that he will definitely have to return the clothes of 1389 to his wardrobe.
⠀
The original text was really good, but the translation killed everything. I really tried to make the translation as accurate as possible, but I'm still absolutely not sure about some fragments.
#I'm sorry#no i'm not#modern Hob of course will be unbearably ashamed later for this dream#and me too#It's terrible I know#but I really like wild!Hob and graceful!Dream#the sandman#dream of the endless#morpheus#hob gadling#hob x dream#hob x morpheus#dream x hob#morpheus x hob#dreamling#hobmurphy
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let it be clear, the only reason i don’t call dream oneiros more often is because i can’t spell it for shit
#i've gotten around to learning to write morpheus KIND OF i guess its time to being oneiros into the hood#it's a very sexy name#and HONESTLY if you asked me what would pass easier in modern au#i'd say oneiros TBH#it's much easier and can be shortened to On or Ros so like much less heavy and dense than morpheus#p.s i hate when he's called murhpy nonono#dream of the endless#buns.hc#buns.all
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thought on watching The Matrix for the first time
are the animals also in the matrix goop or are they only computer programs?
so many of these actors have really soothing voices, I just want them to tell me stories. like the Oracle or Agent Smith.
why does Keanu Reeves look like that?
at the start of the déjà vu bit: KITTY! (if I saw two kitties, I would not call that déjà vu, I'd call that a good day and go follow them)
as someone who was not alive in the 90s, I'd like to know if all media had a similar plot because this feels very familiar to other media of the 90s.
#the matrix#neo matrix#morpheus#keanu reeves#90s movies#i dont like how close modern computers are to the matrix#i want to return to the trees
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Big brother - Human AU?
so in Argentina started the Big Brother reality show again and i just found it would be so funny to see Dream of the Endless/ Morpheus struggle in a house full of unknow people hsajhsk so here I go:
Dream is a full on drama actor (no funny interviews, no social media, anything but the :| face and the brat TM mark) and his siblings (Desire mostly and Delirium but just because she thinks it would be absolutely funny) put him in the Big Brother house. Somehow, don't ask me just enjoy?
The first day Dream just come and he's like WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE???? and there's people everywhere and cameras and oh my god where is he?? he does not understand what is happening?? (his fans are screaming and melting out over so much content in so less time? like oh there is our caveman living in a house with other people and we can see him ALL THE TIME??!!)
Anyways, he's just there with the "i hate people" face and pout, and the first thing that get out of his mouth to the camera is an absolutely serious "I want to go, can I? There's no legally thing that keep me here right?" and the host of the show is like "WE WILL ASK TO THE PEOPLE!!" and C'MON THE PEOPLE WILL SAVE HIM EVERY-TIME!!!
After that, his first week past along with out problem. He's just there, standing without talk with anyone. He just look at them with the most hating look that he can have and being honest no one cares about him. One of the guys, Matthew, start to call him the plant man.
One night at three o'clock the people just start to freaking the hell out on twitter and instagram because Dream is talking to someone! just a small talk like "you want coffee?" "i don't drink coffee" "a tea then?" "...yes, thanks" and Morpheus' stans just start to love the professor Hob Gadling.
Hob is the new fandom protected. A whole new shipp for the fandom. And Hob's students are like NO FUCKING WAY THE PROFESSOR AND DREAM OF THE ENDLESS????? THE TWO GOLDEN GLOBES AWARDS WINNER???? AND OUR NERD HISTORY TEACHER???? bastard.
#big brother au#Morpheus actor au?#professor hob gadling#hob gadling#dream of the endless#dreamling#hob x morpheus#hob x dream#honestly no beta read#modern setting#desire of the endless#delirium of the endless#hob would definitely be the 'looks at the camera' one#just as Jim from The Office#he becomes Morpheus' fandom favorite really quick
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We'll Be a Dream
For @themiserablesmonth Day 19: Reincarnation (not sure if crossovers are allowed or not!)
Half-cheated again with this one, insofar as I expanded on something I had already half-written. #SorryNotSorry
E/R, The Sandman fusion. Implied character death, reincarnation AU.
Read on AO3.
June 5, 1832
Paris, France
Night
“Grantaire.”
As soon as night had fallen on the barricade, as soon as the fighters, exhausted and hungry, made what beds they could among the rubble and spent ammunition, Grantaire had known he would come. For years now, Grantaire had avoided any who slept, for fear their slip from waking to dreaming would provide an easy path for the one he had been avoiding to find him at last.
He could no longer avoid him, drawn as he undoubtedly was by the dreams that lived still and the ones that lay shattered on the barricade. Still Grantaire kept his eyes closed, as if keeping them shut might keep him at bay.
“If you wish to avoid me, feigning sleep is not the wisest idea.”
Grantaire cracked one eye open, then the other. “Who said I was feigning?” he asked, a weak attempt at humor, as if that too might keep the tall, thin man standing next to him from his purpose.
The man did not smile. “That you managed to slip from the Dreaming into the waking world is feat enough,” he said, his voice low. “That you have continued to evade me these years is even more remarkable.”
“Can you blame me?” Grantaire asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
If the man had any response to that, it did not show on his pale, thin features. “You are a nightmare of the Dreaming,” he said. “Your purpose is to haunt dreams, not this place.”
“You are the master of stories as well as dreams, are you not?” Grantaire replied. “And this – this is a story that deserved to be told.”
“A story, yes,” the man said. “But one that would have been told without your part in it.”
“You will see.” The man’s fathomless eyes stared at him and Grantaire wet his lips before starting, “Please, let me just—”
“Just what?” asked Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Grantaire’s maker and, in due time, Grantaire was certain, his unmaker.
“Let me see his nightmare through to the end,” Grantaire pleaded. “Let me stay until Enjolras finds himself in your sister’s realm. Let me see if there is any role yet that I have to play in his story.”
For a long moment, long enough that Grantaire was certain he would be refused, Morpheus’s eyes bore into him. Then, when Grantaire could almost take it no more, he nodded. “Very well.”
Grantaire gaped at him. “You mean—”
“You may finish what you started,” Morpheus allowed. “But I warn you, should you fail to find yourself back in my realm where you belong—”
“I will not,” Grantaire said, practically tripping over himself to assure him. “And I will face whatever punishment you have for me, I promise.”
Morpheus said no more, just disappeared into the shifting sands of his realm, and Grantaire all but collapsed against the table in relief. His relief was short-lived as another figure stepped out of the shadows, scaring him half to death.
Of course, as he saw the ankh pendant that swung around her neck, he supposed that was half the point.
She studied him for a long moment, and he wondered just how much of his conversation with Morpheus she had overhead. “I will be back for the rest,” she said finally, and he recognized it for the gentle warning that it was.
“I know.”
“But not for you,” she continued. “Nightmares do not belong with the dead.”
He nodded, his throat suddenly tight. “I know that, too.”
She looked at him closely, a frown puckering her forehead. “If you are worried about my brother—”
“No,” Grantaire said, a little too quickly. “It is not Lord Morpheus that I fear.”
“Then what?”
For the second time that night in the presence of one of the Endless, Grantaire wet his lips before uttering something so foolish even he could hardly believe it: “May I ask you for a favor?”
She stared at him as if he had grown a second head, not that he blamed her. Grantaire doubtedly highly that Death was used to being asked for favors by nightmares.
Then, to his surprise, she smiled. “Yes,” she said simply.
Grantaire blinked. “Yes, I may ask, or yes, you will grant my favor?”
“Both,” she said. “Depending on what the favor is, of course.”
“Why?” Grantaire blurted.
“Because I suspect that whatever favor you’re going to request will provide my brother with a certain amount of, shall we say, consternation,” she said cheerfully. “And I rather think my brother could use some consternation.”
Grantaire tactfully chose not to comment on whether he thought the King of Dreams needed additional consternation in his life. Instead he met Death’s eyes and took a deep breath before starting, “It’s about Enjolras…”
— — — — —
February 22, 1848
The Dreaming
“My Lord?”
Morpheus did not look up from his work. “No,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
But Lucienne held her ground. “He is most insistent.”
“Meaning you no longer wish to deal with him,” Morpheus said evenly, “which would appear to be your problem, Lucienne, and not mine.”
“So it might be, my Lord,” Lucienne said, pleasantly enough but with an edge of steel to her voice, “save for the fact that it is not my library that he is waiting outside of at the moment, but your throne room.”
Morpheus glowered at her, but she did not seem particularly impressed. “Very well,” he said finally. “Let him in.”
Lucienne inclined her head, and within a few moments, Grantaire stood in front of Morpheus, looking almost nervous. “My Lord,” he said, wetting his lips before blurting, “I know I have no grounds to do so, but I have come to request a favor.”
“A favor?” Morpheus repeated, a dangerous lilt to his tone.
“Yes, my Lord. I have come to ask—”
Grantaire broke off as Morpheus stood, his black cloak billowing impressively as he glared at Grantaire. “A favor?” he repeated, his voice low. “Is it not enough that I did not unmake you, when it would have been a just punishment for escaping the Dreaming?”
Grantaire looked discomfited but to his credit, did not flinch or look away. “It would have been, yes, but—”
Morpheus cut him off. “And then you had the nerve to ask a favor of my sister to intervene on behalf of the human you are infatuated with—”
“I don’t know that I’d go so far as to call it infatuation—” Grantaire started, though Morpheus again did not let him finish.
“And yet you still seek an additional favor from me?”
Grantaire lifted his chin defiantly. “I suppose I do, yes.”
Morpheus glared at him. “And I shall assume that this favor is the same as what you have always asked.” He did not state it as a question, and as such Grantaire chose not to answer. Morpheus sighed. “Grantaire, no other nightmare besides you is as preoccupied with the waking world.”
Something like a smile twitched at the corners of Grantaire’s mouth. “Well, the Corinthian might give me a run for my money in that regard.”
“And is that the sort of company you wish to keep?” Morpheus asked flatly.
For perhaps the first time, Grantaire seemed slightly cowed. “No, my Lord,” he said quietly, before again setting his shoulders and lifting his chin. “But there’s something happening in France right now, and—”
“What is it about this human?” Morpheus asked, exasperated.
Grantaire considered it for a moment. “I don’t know that I can explain,” he said finally.
This answer didn’t appear satisfactory to Morpheus, who pursed his lips. “You know that he is not the same as he was when last you were in the waking world.”
Grantaire nodded. “I know that.”
“That he will have no memory of you,” Morpheus pressed.
Grantaire swallowed before nodding again. “I know that, too.”
“And yet still you wish to seek him out?”
Again Grantaire considered his answer before speaking. “The parameters of the favor that your sister granted were clear,” he said carefully. “Enjolras will die, but he has the choice to be reborn until his cause of freedom succeeds. If this, the revolution that stirs in France, might be the one to fulfill his cause, then I would wish to see him one last time before Death claims him.”
Morpheus’s expression was curiously blank. “Do you not see him when he dreams?”
“I do, but…”
“But what?”
“But my presence in his dreams is not a pleasant one,” Grantaire whispered. “When I am there, I cast nothing but doubt, and trepidation in his mind.”
“You are a nightmare, Grantaire,” Morpheus said wearily. “That is your duty.”
Grantaire jerked a nod. “I know that. But when I am in the waking world…”
There was something almost wistful in his tone, but it was not enough to soften Lord Morpheus’s resolve. “Your place is here, in the Dreaming,” he said, with an air of finality. “If fate should decree that you see him again in his dreams, then so be it. But you are not to return to the waking world.”
For a moment, it looked as though Grantaire might argue further, but then he inclined his head once more. “Yes, my Lord,” he said quietly, not waiting for Morpheus to dismiss him before turning away and slumping out of the throne room. Morpheus watched him go, his dark eyes unreadable.
Then his eyes dropped again to his work, and all thoughts of Enjolras and Grantaire were quickly forgotten.
— — — — —
Over a Century and a Half Later
The Dreaming
Morpheus stood in his throne room, surveying the damage that still remained following his imprisonment in the waking world for the vast majority of the twentieth century, and the better part of the first quarter of the twenty-first.
Lucienne joined him. “I have completed the census you requested, Lord Morpheus,” she said, and he turned to glance at her.
“Good,” he said, knowing how important it was to determine what dreams and nightmares had escaped the Dreaming during his absence. “And?”
“I have accounted for 11,062 of them,” Lucienne confirmed. “Some minor nightkind are missing, a few of the lesser dreams and creatures.”
“Some minor nightkind,” Morpheus murmured, more to himself than to Lucienne, a glimmer of awareness in his pale features. “Very well.”
Lucienne glanced at him before starting, almost hesitantly, “Sire, about the missing nightkind—”
“One of them is Grantaire,” Morpheus supplied, more a statement than a question. Lucienne nodded and Morpheus sighed. “I suppose the temptation would have been too great for him to resist the opportunity to slip back into the waking world.”
“Will you go after him?” Lucienne asked.
Morpheus considered it for a moment. “I have more pressing matters to attend to,” he said. “But I will find him eventually.” His expression darkened. “And when I do, I will not make the same mistake of mercy that I did last time.”
— — — — —
Sometime Later
The Waking World
Grantaire knew without seeing him that he was there, knew it as surely as a man being led to the executioner’s block or hangman’s noose. He pressed the hand of the man walking next to him. “Give me a moment,” he murmured, before stepping away to face his fate like a martyr.
“Grantaire,” Morpheus said, disapprovingly. “I assume you heard that I was freed from my captors.”
Grantaire nodded. “Yes, my Lord.” He managed a small smile. “Just as I assume you heard that I left the Dreaming. I am surprised it took you this long to hunt me down.”
Morpheus looked distinctly unamused. “I had more important things to deal with, and a dream vortex to stop,” he said. “But you had to know that our paths would cross eventually.”
“I have never doubted you would eventually find me, yes,” Grantaire said honestly. “Just as I expected always that this would be my fate, whenever you did.”
Though Morpheus nodded, he looked past Grantaire, examining the man he had been walking with, a man whose once-golden hair was now shot through with silver. “He is old this time, your human,” he said to Grantaire, whose smile widened.
“Yes,” he said. “I think the fight for freedom looks much different now than it used to. A lot less deadly.” He shook his head. “Though that which he has survived in this lifetime – wars, and protests, and a plague…”
“A plague?” Morpheus repeated.
Grantaire made a face. “Remind Lucienne to tell you about the AIDS crisis that happened while you were captured.” His expression evened out, a small, wistful smile returning. “But yes, he’s survived so much and still he’s fighting.”
Morpheus nodded. “That is his burden,” he said. “Just as yours—”
“I know,” Grantaire said softly. “I am sorry that I have failed you, my Lord.”
Morpheus looked closely at him. “But not sorry to have left. “
“He and I have spent almost an entire human lifetime together this time,” Grantaire said quietly. “I don’t think I could ever be sorry for that.”
For one long moment, Morpheus was silent, his expression as unreadable as ever. Then he sighed. “I am not the same as I was when last you and I spoke of your human,” he told Grantaire. “My captivity, and all that has followed—”
He broke off, and Grantaire frowned. “My Lord?”
“I understand better now,” Morpheus told him, saying more in those four words than he had perhaps ever offered as explanation to any of his own creation. “Why you have done what you did.”
Though he still looked confused, Grantaire nonetheless nodded. “For me there was no other choice,” he said simply. He hesitated before adding, “I understand better now, too. Why dreams and nightmares belong in the Dreaming. Why I will always be the doubt to his belief, the cynicism to his hope.” His expression softened, just slightly. “But still I tried in this lifetime to be a little bit of his dream instead of his nightmare.”
Morpheus nodded slowly, something flickering across his expression that Grantaire couldn’t quite place, almost as if he had heard those words before. “And yet still the price must be paid.”
“I understand, my Lord,” Grantaire said. “And I will face my unmaking in such a way as to make him proud.”
“I did not say the price would be your unmaking.”
Grantaire stared at him. “My Lord?”
Morpheus’s expression was as impassive and unreadable as ever. “I can unmake you, and perhaps even one day remake you as a dream instead of a nightmare, a dream that will be as beautiful as the one your human sees.”
Grantaire blinked. “But you are offering me a different choice?” he asked, not trusting to hope.
“Yes,” Morpheus said. “Just as your Enjolras is offered a choice by Death every time he dies whether to return, to continue his fight, or whether to go to the Sunless Lands, so too will I offer you a choice.” He looked impassively at him. “As I have said, I can unmake you, and you can be the dream you wish to be. Or you can remain, knowing you will always be his nightmare.”
“You would let me stay?” Grantaire whispered. “For the rest of his lifetime, or…?”
Morpheus nodded. “Until you wished to return to the Dreaming and be unmade,” he said. “I have come to be reminded that dreams have their place in the waking world, and perhaps you will yet convince me that nightmares do, too.” He raised both eyebrows. “Provided that is what you choose.”
“Yes,” Grantaire said instantly. “Yes, I will stay. I will be the nightmare that tempers his hope if it means that I can stay with him, in this lifetime and whatever ones there are to come.”
“Very well,” Morpheus said. “Then Grantaire, the next time I see you, you know what fate awaits you.”
Grantaire nodded, looking back over his shoulder at Enjolras. “Yes, I—” He broke off when he glanced back, and realized that Morpheus had disappeared.
He could not stop his smile as he returned to Enjolras, who smiled back at him, though he also looked a little puzzled as he again took Grantaire’s hand. “Who was that man you were talking to?” he asked.
“An old friend,” Grantaire told him, meaning every word.
Though Enjolras still looked confused, he didn’t question it any further, just squeezing Grantaire’s hand as he jokingly scolded, “You were gone so long, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back.”
“Don’t worry,” Grantaire told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
#exr#enjolras x grantaire#enjoltaire#grantaire#morpheus#dream of the endless#enjolras#lucienne#death of the endless#fanfiction#les miserables#sandman netflix#sandman fusion#dreams and nightmares#canon divergence#modern au#both and neither simultaneously#the miserables month 2022#though like i said if crossovers/fusions aren't allowed no need to reblog! that's my bad#reincarnation
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2022, 21 November. Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?
Carrd | Ko-fi | Ao3 | Instagram | Pillowfort | Twitter
#Eternity#Morpheus#Dream#Dream Of The Endless#Sandman#The Sandman#The Sandman Netflix#The Sandman Show#jinhao#fountain pen#calligraphy#handwriting#modern calligraphy#modern calligrapher#handlettering#lettering#handmade#sepia ink#latin alphabet
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— Drisson — || ONE ||
Lord Morpheus X Autistic Male Reader ( Modern AU )
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors Note: Alright everyone, I rewrote the first chapter due to me coming up with a different idea and some slight changes. Just to let everyone know this reader will show slight signs of Autism and people who have Autism deserve to read a series about their favorite character. Also, if I write anything wrong about autism please let me know and I am willing to continue doing research in order to write it correctly. But either way, enjoy this series!
Summary: Reader works for Morpheus Dream, assistant of The Dreaming company that makes medicine for people who suffer with sleep. He is the assistant of Dream who helps him out in any way possible until his family sends a wedding invention. His little sister is to be getting married and forcing him to bring a date when he doesn’t have one. Dream decides to join him to this wedding and fake their way through it.
Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, modern AU, desire and death have different names, endless children, mentions of autism, sighs of autism, Morpheus is a gentleman, humor, language, weddings, fake dating trope, slow burn-ish, mentions of Lucifer, company issues, slight possessive Dream
Word count: 3.0k
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—
He stares at the letter in disbelief, flipping it back and forth between his fingers as he takes in the words written in them, big bold letters reading his younger sisters name and with a date set of her wedding day. It’s been four years since he’s last seen his family and to have a wedding invitation sent to him out of the blue was a big surprise. He didn’t expect his younger sister to be getting married, let alone have a significant other. She rarely spoke about her dating life and to find out that she is getting married to some strange man he never met does worry him a little or perhaps his bond with his younger sister no longer remained to the point where she kept this man hidden from him.
He frowns at the idea, hoping that it wasn’t that. He sets the invitation down in front of him as he continued to stare at it until Lucienne walked into the room, documents in hand, posture straight as she held her head high and approached his desk. “Afternoon.” She calls out, getting his attention as he looks up from her desk and gives her a small smile. “Lucienne, what can I help you with today?” He asks. “Mr. Dream requested these documents—“ She sets a stack of documents in front of him, startling himself a little by how big the pile was. “That’s quiet a lot.” He chuckled nervously as Lucienne nods in agreement. “Yes, we’ll, you understand how Mr. Dream does his work and when he requests something from my department he is to receive it.”
Y/n pulls the stack close, straightening the documents together and smiling a little by how organized they are. “I’ll make sure he gets these after his meeting today.” He reassured Lucienne, not wanting to worry the women too much if Dream were to receive these late. The older women gives him a not and leaves the room, leaving him on his own again. After a few minutes the doors to the main room open, revealing Morpheus Dream by the entrance with a frown on his face as he walks further into the room.
Y/n rounds his desk and takes the documents in hand. “Mr. Dream, Lucienne came to drop these off as instructed.” He blurts out, getting the owners attention. His frown slowly fading, brows furrowed as he reaches out to take the documents with him. “Thank you, Y/n. Did Lucienne mention anything else?” He questions, walking past him and entering his office with Y/n falling after him as he rambled out. “Not really, she came to drop off the documents you requested and then left but, I’m sure that she would like you to return them back in the way she left them since she likes to keep her department material organized.” He chuckles to himself.
Dream nods along to his explanation, already knowing how strict Lucienne can be when it came towards her work. She owned her own department and she for sure would want everyone to follow her rules and policies, no one would want to mess with her work, especially Dream. “Very well I will make sure to return everything the way it came—“ The owner of the office stood mid sentence, raising a brow as he shuffled through the paper work and holds a familiar letter in hand. Y/n’s eyes widen a little in surprise as Dream reads the wedding invitation.
“Apologizes, must have gotten mixed up with the rest of the documents.” Y/n steps forward to take the invitation back until Dream grins, returning it to him. “I didn’t think you’ll be one for weddings.”
The assistant frowns. “I’m not, really. Weddings are too loud and full of people—even though it’s my sisters wedding I don’t really enjoy being around family. I don’t get along with most of them.” He was known to ramble sometimes but after working as Dreams assistant for three years the man had grown used to it. Majority of his past assistance wouldn’t last longer than a few weeks before quitting, not standing Dreams attitude and the wha he easily got upset and when Y/n applied for the position he didn’t expect himself to get it on the spot. It took a few days for him to understand Dreams schedule, getting everything down in less than a few minutes which impressed Dream. So, the man kept Y/n as his assistant and enjoyed the man’s company, whether he acted strange or dealt with things differently than others, didn’t really bother Dream.
“Your sister is to be married, isn’t she the youngest?” Asked Dream.
“Yes, by three years.” Y/n held up three fingers to show Dream. “I also have an older brother, which makes me the middle child of the family.” He shrugs his shoulders, tucking the invitation away in his pocket as Dream watched him closely while the other avoids his stare and focused it elsewhere.
“At least we both understand siblings, I have six while you have two.”
Y/n had met the Endless family during one of their dinners together. The first time he was to meet them, Dream had told him about them and what they each did and who to stay away from. He wasn’t really their to socialize but to be Dreams quick escape in case things didn’t go well, he would come up with an excuse to get Dream out of that family dinner without causing a ruckus. The first few times he tagged along he stood off to the side, glancing at the siblings every once an awhile before he’s dragged in by his older sister, Teleute, to join them and dragging him to an empty seat. It was awkward for him at first since he didn’t feel very welcomed by all of the Endless staring at him until Teleute reassured him that he was welcomed. After that he was forced to join them each time they had dinner together, sitting next to Dreams older sister as he silently ate his own meal while he watched the siblings quarrels.
“You deal with six and I don’t, I think two is enough for me to handle.” He faintly smiles, sighing to himself. “I should get back to work—I’ll let you know about your schedule after.” He let’s Dream know before leaving his office and closing the door behind him. He approached his own desk and pulls out the invitation again, tapping his finger against the slick card, shaking his head as he tossed in it the garbage. As much as he cared for his sister he couldn’t go to her wedding, he didn’t hate the idea of her getting married but weddings were never his thing and they never made him feel happy, knowing that he didn’t have anyone of his own.
He could send her a message or perhaps call and apologize for not being able to go. He sits down in his chair and turns on his computer to pull up dreams schedule, double and triple checking to make sure that everything is in order before providing him the information. His fingers type away in the keyboard when he feels his phone go off, startling him from his work as he pats himself down, searching for his phone until he finds it in his breast pocket. He answers the call without checking the ID caller. “Y/n, speaking.”
“Y/n!”
He pulls his phone away from his ear, wincing at the sound of his sisters loud voice. After she’s done with her high pitch screaming he pulls the phone close to his ear again. “—did you get my invitation?!” She asks with excitement in her tone as he glanced down at the garbage bin. “Yes, I got it. Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you, Y/n! I’m excited to get married—oh! Mom and dad are excited to see you after years and can’t wait to hear about your work. I heard your working for The Dreaming—is it as good as they say? Does their medicine actually work?” She asks over the phone.
“I don’t take their medicine but I’ve heard that it’s help many customers sleep better,” He wheels around his chair, moving back and forth. “About the wedding.” He began, ready to break the news to her.
“You’re coming right? I really want you to be here and I could use your organization skills. I need help with some of the ceremony stuff and your great at doing that! I can’t wait for you to come home for the wedding, we all miss you and it would really mean a lot to me.”
Y/n opens and closes his mouth, not knowing what to say as he listens to his sisters excitement. Hearing her talk about her plans and how much he is missed makes him feel guilty, unable to tell her the truth.
“—are you still there?”
“Hm—? Oh! Yeah, I’ll be there for sure can’t wait.” He strains out
“Perfect! Don’t forget to bring a date! Love you!”
“Wait—!” Before he can say anything else the call is cut short. Leaving him stunned at the idea of bringing a date. He sighs deeply, trying to ignore her last words before she hung up as he comes to a stand and walks over to Dreams office, knocking before stepping inside with the others permission.
“I’ve got todays schedule.” He announced, getting Dreams attention as he approached his desk and began to tell him todays schedule. “Lucienne wishes to meet you in her department about some files she found, at twelve you are to meet up with the lab members to check on the latest medicine and it looked like at one you have an appointment with Morningstar about the Inferno—“
“Camel that last appointment.” Dream interrupts.
“Would you like me to call Morningstar about their cancelled appointment?” He asks, keeping his hands behind his back as he tilts his head to the side. “Have someone else call them, we don’t have time to deal with their idiotic ideas.”
Y/n knew that Dream and Morningstar didn’t have a really good relationship between each other, always getting at each others throats while the other tries to join their company with Dream but Dream wouldn’t budge no matter how hard they tried.
“Would you also like me to cancel your dinner with Epithumia?”
Dreams head shot up, glaring. “Since when did I arrange that?”
“You didn’t, I think they did without notice.” Y/n tells him, knowing how much Dream loathed their sibling who always crawled under his skin. Epithumia was always plotting against Dream and would alway find their way to get what they wanted.
“Cancel that too.”
Y/n nods to himself as he mentally scratched that off his list. “That’s all for today, unless you would like to add something to the schedule?”
“That is all.” Dream focused on his work, y/n taking his silence as a sign to leave his office before his deep voice echos around the office. “You’re sister called, didn’t she?”
“How did you—?”
“Thin walls.”
Y/n blushed in embarrassment. “Apologies, she can be a bit loud when not on speaker.”
Dream softly chuckled, turning his gaze towards his assistant who stood near the exit as he asks again. “Did you break her the bad news?”
Y/n’s stiff posture relaxes a little, shaking his head in response. “I felt guilty and couldn’t do it, she really wants me to go and I have no choice but to go—let alone bring a date.”
“A date, you don’t look like someone who would bring a date.”
“That’s because I don’t have one, neither am I good at getting a date.” He nervously fidgets with his own tie as he continues on. “She wants me to bring a date when I don’t even have one, let alone have a significant other. You could say I’m not really good at dating, haven’t found someone I like or perhaps I am undatable by my strange behavior.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t mind, honestly. I’ll just come clean to my family and let them know that I still don’t have a date or haven’t dated yet.”
His parents were always pushing him to find someone but never could. They were either to impolite or rude to find someone he truly liked, he also wasn’t good at asking anyone out, afraid of asking anyone and would rather stick to himself. He didn’t mind being alone, he’s grown used to it, which isn’t such a good thing.
“Anyways, I’ll let them know.” Y/n gives Dream a small smile, leaving the office in a quick pace and focusing back on his one work as he left a confused but also stunned Dream behind. He spends majority of his time getting things ready for tomorrows meetings, calling Morningstar about his appointment and apologizing in behalf of Dream along with returning some paper work to Lucienne.
The ride down the elevator is fast, sending him to the twenty first floor where Lucienne and Mervynn work. When stepping out he spots Lucienne arguing with Mervyn about a damaged section of her department needing repairs and perhaps new upgrades on her books. Y/n ignored their bickering and moves around them, putting the files away in the organized way that Lucienne requests, silently putting them away and leaving note on her desk of the things he’s returned before leaving the place and heading back up to the twenty fifth floor.
When he arrives to Dreams office he remembers the wedding invitation, bending down on one kneel to take the invitation out of the trash bin and checking the dates. It’s best for him to request some days off if he is to fly back out to France after not visiting for four years. He comes to a stand and approaches dreams office, stepping inside to see Dream finishing up his work.
“Mr. Dream, before I leave for the day I’d like to request a week off for my sisters wedding if that’s alright?”
Dream turns to face Y/n, raising a brow. “When will your sisters wedding be?”
“Uh…” He stares down at the tile floor. “Her wedding is to be next week—I’m sorry for the last notice, I know I’m suppose to let you know two or three weeks in advance.”
“It’s alright, Y/n. I understand that this is important and last notice. You’ve done a lot for the dreaming and deserve a vacation from all the work you do.” Dream moves around his desk, collecting paper work or throwing stuff out. “I’ll grant you the week off.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Dream gives a small smile. “Did you find a date yet or are you still going to go alone?”
“I prefer to go alone.”
“Really, I’m not sure you’ll be able to stand the loud music and crowds of people who are traveling miles to see your sister get married.”
Y/n nervously swallows. The idea of having to deal with many strangers and family members was overwhelming and the music, loud music he wouldn’t be able to handle as much. He can deal with a few songs here and there but knowing his sisters taste of music it was going to be a very long day.
“How about I join you.”
Y/n is startled by dreams words. “What—join me?”
“Yes.” Dream steps forward, cocking his head to the side. “I can accompany you to this wedding as your date, think of it as a thank you for all those times you had to deal with my family dinners and siblings.”
“A date—? But, your family is nothing compared to mine. You hate social gatherings.” He knew Dream too well to know that the man standing before him also hated gatherings and avoided them like the plague, but yet, here he is willing to sacrifice his displeasure in order to join Y/n.
“As much as I don’t like gatherings, I think I can try to handle a week with your family.”
Y/n glanced at his blue eyes for a few seconds before averting then away. “It’ll be full.”
“I know.”
“My family will want to talk to you.”
“Figured I’d have to talk either way.”
“Won’t you feel uncomfortable?”
“Why should I?”
“Because, your accepting a date with someone like me.” He mutters.
“It does not have to be real if you don’t not wish too. We can pretend for the week in order to keep your family from pestering you.” He explains, letting Y/n know that they didn’t have to go through with it and could simply pretend and make up a story or two about them. The idea of the two dating causes Y/n to blush deeply, heart racing. “Very well, I’ll let you know when we head out! Thank you again for your help and have a great day!” He rushed out of the office, clocking out for the day and trying to escape the large building. His heart was still racing, not knowing why he was reacting in this way.
He’s never had this feeling before and it was frightening him.
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Tags: @un-namedmalereader @fanficsforheartandsoul @boulevardofgalaxies @byler4lifesblog @gaysimp614 @mfairycow @1s3v3n1 @mypsychoticlove
#male reader#lord morpheus x male reader#lord morpheus x reader#the sandman#the sandman x male reader#modern au#dream of the endless x male reader#dc x male reader#series#reader has autism#autism#tom sturridge x reader#tom sturridge
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Oh, it's been a hell of a ride
Driving the edge of a knife
Never let you go, never let me down
Don't you give up
I won't give up
Let me love you
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So the basic idea that came to me late at night for Baby Dream was more of less this weird little mash up of Matilda/A Little Princess and Definitely Platonic Dream and Hob :
Baby Morpheus who's like, 6, is from a family with innate magical gifts, that are related to their canon ones but nowhere and near as strong
And one day gets kidnapped by Roderick Burgess, who was trying to get his older sister Teleute but his henchmen grabbed the wrong one
So now Morpheus is being held in the basement (not in a glass case just in a locked room with some magical protection around it that keeps him from leaving) while Burgess tries to figure out what powers he has and how they can be exploited
Morpheus in this stays silent out of terror/trauma more than any stubbornness, and he himself doesn't fully understand his powers so he doesn't know how to answer Burgess's questions anyway
His only source of comfort is his raven plushie Jessamy, who he held onto when he got grabbed
So of course one day Burgess rips it in two in an attempt to intimidate Morpheus into speaking
That night Morpheus in despair crafts himself a dream that when he closes his eye he'll wake up somewhere safe, where he'll be cared for and loved and never made to feel afraid (his home of course wasn't too great either, Night and Time are still terrible even as mostly human parents)
And so he goes to sleep, and dreams that he wakes up in a cozy bed in a room made just for him
And the kindest man he's ever seen is in the kitchen making pancakes
Hob Gadling would normally be surprised to see a tousle haired tot shuffling into his kitchen but this is clearly a dream so he's not that weirded out, and while he doesn't understand why this sad but sweet little Dream child is here--he doesn't look anything like the son he lost-- but he's still happy to play caretaker again for this one night
So he makes pancakes and plays games and reads stories and slowly draw the little Dream boy out of his shell until at last Hob tucks him into the little bed in the room that exists only in this dream--and the Dream child finally smiles up at him, and it's the sweetest thing Hob's seen in a long while
Hob wakes up wondering what on earth could have prompted such a dream, but happy overall he had a nice one where he got to take care of a child, instead of the nightmares he usually has about the loss of Robyn
And then it happens again, and again. Each night for a few months Hob dreams he's taking care of a tiny boy with the messiest hair and bluest eyes he's ever seen. And though he never says anything each night the Dream child becomes a little less fearful, a little more happy and open, and Hob finds his heart opening more and more to this little stranger who's come into his dreams
Morpheus meanwhile is still trapped, still subject to Burgess's abuse, but at least now each night he has an escape with the kind man in his dreams. Each night he "wakes up" in his room in Hob's dream version of his flat excited for the time they'll spend together and he's always desperate to stay in the dream as long as he can, dreading waking up for real to the dark reality around him, knowing that at this point the people who know he's missing have long stopped looking for him
Hob however has started looking. He's sure this recurring dream must have some sort of meaning, he's never dreamed like this before, so consistently, so clearly. So he starts looking for clues online, if anyone else has had similar experiences. Finally he even has someone draw the child from his dreams, making corrections until it's as close as he can get it
And the picture once posted leads him to discover the disappearance of six year old Morpheus Endless
The moment Hob sees the child's photo he knows it's his child, the Dream child. And he knows he has to figure out how to help him. He doesnt know if Morpheus is dead--he hopes to anything he's not--but he's determined to find him and save him from whatever it is that puts the sadness back in his blue eyes each night
Que Hob trying to wheedle things out of baby Morpheus each night about his location, as much as he can with Morpheus being six and locked away and still not speaking
And Morpheus not being sure whats happening, his dreams are supposed to be his safe place where he doesn't have to think about the bad place he's in
And Burgess finally starting to reach the end of his rope with this stubborn silent child who's been more trouble then he's worth
But of course Hob finally manages to discover where his Dream child is, and bursts in good old fashioned Fishbowl Rescue style and breaks down the door to Morpheus's prison
There's this long moment where they both just stare at eachother, each not quite aure they're not still dreaming--and then Hob scoops Morpheus up in his arms, whispering that "it's ok now little Dream, you're safe"
And for the first time in months Morpheus actually believes it
Hob takes him back to his flat that night. Morpheus's room doesn't exist in the waking world but he makes him a bed on the couch and tucks him in tight and safe, and that night Morpheus for the first time in months doesnt need to craft a dream to help him sleep
(And once they've called the police and Morpheus gets returned home and Hob sees what a wreck it is there he gets him out legally (probably all the other Endless kids too) and gives Morpheus (and the others) a real home)
#my writing#dream of the endless#hob gadling#not really dreamling#i hope this doesn't come across in any weird way its definitely meant to be a child parent relationship#i just see Hob being important to Dream in whatever way#in whatever au#at least the ones I make x)#sandman#morpheus#human au#modern au#roderick burgess#platonic relationships#parent child relationship#baby Dream AU
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