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colorfultyrantearthquake · 2 years

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Of Nightmares and Darkness | Morpheus x fem!reader

Description: your infatuation with Morpheus starts with a nightmare, how will it end?

Warnings: +18, Filthy SMUT, angst, nightmare description, claustrophobia (confined spaces), nyctophobia (fear of dark), praising kink, degrading kink, fem!masturbation, oral (male receiving), Dom!Morpheus, sub!reader. Fluff at the end.

Words: +5k! Got extremely carried out, felt Tumblr needed much more Morpheus smut.

Song suggestion: Crazy in love - Sofia karlberg.

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Every night, falling asleep was the hardest thing you had to do. Not because you had trouble sleeping, but because of the nightmares that haunted you.

Every. Single. Night.

Sighing, you plopped on your bed staring at the ceiling, you fell asleep easily every night worn out from work, but you always woke up in the middle of your sleep panting, heavily sweating, clutching your chest to ease the tightness that's crushing your lungs. It could happen several times in one night. Different nightmares. Different stories.

You -like many of other people- suffered from some phobias, but you bet not all people dream about them.

In your room you always had a small light on, you didn't dare sleep -or sit- in a completely dark room. Your room was noticably wide, making the rest of the apartment look small, but you also couldn't bear the idea of staying in a small or closed space. You felt like you couldn't breathe or think.

Trying to stay awake, you grabbed your phone and started to look up "Dreams". Every other night you choose a topic to read about, and today was dreams, since you scarcely had a nice one.

Link after link, site after site, there was one thing that caught your attention as you yawned, a quote, or rather a poem? You didn't know, it said:

"Call for Morpheus,

He shall save you from the dark,

Call for Morpheus,

He shall guide you to your light"

Sitting upright in your bed, your stomach churning, you didn't know why you had this feeling in your gut that you were meant to see this.

Hesitating, your fingers hovered over the search bar, you took a deep breath then wrote: Morpheus.

Morpheus

God of dreams and nightmares, king of the dreaming.

God of dreams? And nightmares? You didn't want to believe this. No, you really didn't. But we all know the saying.

Curiosity.

You started digging more into the matter, searching deep, you found a sketch drawn, you didn't know to whom it belonged, if it's real or not. A sketch of a slender, pale man, high cheekbones, ruffled black hair, long black coat with a raven on his shoulder, a ruby adorning his neck, and a leather pouch in his hand. Underneath the image you saw the name: Morpheus.

Checking the time you found it nearing midnight, you exhaled loudly, closing all the tabs, not wanting to read anymore or let the matter get into your mind. Switching on the little lamp, you pulled up the covers and slept on your side, facing the window in your room.

Darkness. Tight space.

You felt trapped in a coffin. It was pitch black, you couldn't see your own hand, your breathing quickened, feeling your hands tremble and your legs shake, you started gasping loudly, feeling the adrenaline going so high you thought you'd pass out. That'd be more merciful than what you're feeling now. You knew it was a nightmare, but you could feel it in every sense of the word, as if it was really happening to you. Your bones weakening, hands grasping your shirt fighting to breathe. Suddenly you remembered the words you read:

"Call for Morpheus,

He shall save you from the dark,

Call for Morpheus,

He shall guide you to your light."

Fighting to speak and breathe, you started saying his name as much as you could.

"Morpheus." Gasping.

"Morpheus." Panting.

"Morpheus."

You felt darkness swallow you until you couldn't breathe anymore, your sight fading...

************************

Morpheus opened his eyes abruptly, sitting on his throne, he heard his name being called. He thought it was chanting or, perhaps, someone praying. But then he heard the desperation in the voice, the pants, hard intakes of breaths. Morpheus found himself in your nightmare, everything dark. He saw you struggling to move, clutching your chest desperately, your other hand on your imagined coffin trying to steady yourself, you kept calling his name until he thought you'd faint. Swaying his coat, stars littered the darkness around you, small light dots swirled around you, the darkness lightening bit by bit.

Swiping his hand, galaxies and bright, big stars erupted in fire works as the coffin turned into a vast space, the universe itself surrounding you, you almost felt like floating..

Eyes watering from the intensity, your breathing evened, your lungs were full of oxygen again, adrenaline lessining, you sat upright looking in front of you, seeing a hazy figure, no matter how hard you squinted you couldn't see him...

You woke up with a startle. Looking at the clock you saw it was nearly 5 in the morning. For your usual non-existing sleeping program, that was progress.

Pulling off the covers, you went into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you weren't used to sleeping for long periods anyway. Having eaten, you took a bath to relax, today was your day off anyways and you didn't want to waste it moping at home. Wearing your sneakers you went out for a run. Mind wandering to Morpheus, you remembered your nightmare, the words you read, the name you called for and the epic change from the worst nightmare to the most beautiful of dreams. You remembered the hazy figure you saw in front of you. Passing the library you halted your tracks. Entering it, you started searching through the books, not really knowing what you're searching for. Passing by Greek Mythology books, you saw a dark blue cover, golden letters carved into the leather: Morpheus.

Your breath hitched and your pulse quickened, your shaky hands extended to get the book. Opening it, you found some pages in Greek while others were in English, which was probably impossible to find.

Sitting, you started reading:

"In the darkness, Morpheus, the God of Dreams, awakened to a world where he and only he wielded power. As the Son of Hypnos and Pasithea, Morpheus is very powerful. The fact he was able to put the Gods of Olympus and most of Greece to sleep with little effort, he is a force to be reckoned with. Morpheus is able to put mortals and gods to sleep. As the God of dreams, Morpheus has the power to manipulate the dreams of others, both Gods and mortals. Morpheus creates both dreams and nightmares. Everything in the dreaming world is under his command. In your sleep, you belong to him."

Your body shivered to the words, other pages had sketches to what Morpheus might look like, some sketched him as a demon, some with wings, but the most fascinating were his sketches as human. His face was sharp, body covered in his black coat, eyes shining with golden specks, similar to the sketch you saw yesterday, you suspected he was the one in your dream.

Weeks passed by as your infatuation with Morpheus grew heavy, by the time you almost had no nightmares, all your dreams were about him and him only. You knew you had gone insane, all this sleep loss made you obsessed with the God of dreams. When you slept, you pictured him standing in front of you, tormentingly close, his cool breath almost fanning your face, plush pink lips hovering slightly over yours. Every time you move to touch him, you wake up.

The lights went out one night, the whole street was dark, moon light wasn't that strong.

You were so restless you couldn't close your eyes, you started writhing in the bed, what if you're late to work tomorrow? Will they finally fire you? How will you find another job? Are you always gonna be this lonely? When will the light return? Why is it so dark? Why does the room feel so small?

Thought swirled quickly in your mind, panick immensed inside of you, making it hard for you to lay on your bed, you got up feeling light headed. Your head pounding, legs weak, you didn't know what to do.

"Morpheus" You panted in the air as you leaned into the wall, your lungs collapsing as anxiety took over you.

"Look at me" A deep, rough voice echoed through your room, barely reached your ringing ears. Arms held your hands as you clung tightly to the man in front of you. Feeling yourself being seated, your hold tightening on the man's arms.

"Look me in the eyes." You raised your head slowly, gasping softly as you were met with the face that conquered your dreams for many nights.

He sat you on the bed, kneeling in front of you, holding you in your place, his hands leaving your arms to plant themselves on both sides of your bed.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked. His voice melody to your ears, raspy and deep, it shook your heart violently. Your head spinning, not knowing how to answer you nodded, way too slow for him to believe so. He kept his gaze focused on you, your eyes studying him, his features, his hands, long fingers graced the bed sheets, marble white body clad in black clothes, the famous black coat that you dreamt of countless times.

He noticed your eyes travelling all over him. Standing up, he walked around your room, studying it. His eyes fell on a book, Morpheus.

He glanced at you, watching you fiddle with your hands in your lap, biting your lip nervously. He almost smirked, but he wouldn't yet give you that satisfaction. Morpheus knew how infatuated with him you were, your dreams of him, your fantasies of his coat, his body. He saw it all and he knew you knew that. Skimming the pages of the book, he wondered if you'll ever break the silence.

You eagerly eyed him, his stance powerful in the dark room, now lit by a small white lantern in the corner, which you were sure belonged to Morpheus. Your heart beat rapidly, you remembered your dreams. There's one sinful dream you were ashamed of.

His coat splayed on the bed, you sleeping naked over it, your legs wide open, you were so horny and wet that you had floods between your legs, covering your folds, your clit, dripping down your inner thighs. You were in your room, dimly lit, a scent of magic and stardust in the air, your hands moving from your neck down to your breasts in a teasing motion, your fingers twirling both your nipples making your pussy gush juices, you moaned at the feeling, you wanted them to be Morpheus', not yours. You sighed as your right hand moved down your waist, gripping your hip bone making your back arch, knowing this is a soft spot. Travelling lower, your fingers started massaging your folds agonizingly slow, imagining them to be Morpheus' fingers teasing you, edging you. Picturing his face between your legs, you entered one finger into your cunt, followed by another, wanting to feel full to the brim, you started imagining his throbbing cock, tip red and swollen, you moaned at the thought. You brought your other hand to play with your clit as you started moving your fingers faster, circling your clit in rhythm with your fingers.

"Oh, God yes." You panted, feeling your walls flutter around your fingers. "Morpheus" you moaned loudly, "Morpheus, please. I need you." You whined loudly, feeling your pussy clench. "Need your mouth on my lips, my tits, fuck yes," you arched your back as you felt his coat brush against it, intensifying your pleasure. "Need to feel you inside of me," you sigh dreamily as you felt your pleasure coming to an end. "Need to feel your mouth between my legs, fuck me raw until I can't breathe. Ruin me for all men." You gasped as you started rocking your hips into your fingers. "Morpheus, fuck yes, Morpheus please." You moaned sinfully as your orgasm washed over you, your body shook over the coat, your fingers thrusting inside of you helping yourself ride your orgasm, the finger on your clit moved to your left tit to grip it tightly. Your body stilled, heavy breaths filled the air as your room screamed sex.

Blushing furiously after remembering your dream, your eyes followed Morpheus' every move, until he turned to face you, walking to where you're sitting, coming to a stop directly in front of you. He was very tall, compared to you sitting, he hovered over you, your face meeting his torso, you felt ashamed you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

"Eyes on me." You heard him. He wasn't asking, it was an order.

Your eyes travelled slowly up until they fell on his.

"Isn't it rude not to greet who you've sinfully longed for?" He looked down at you, feeling his breath fan your face your body shuddered in delight.

"It is." You answered.

"So you can speak." He said, faking amusement.

"I wondered when will that pretty voice of yours come out, considering that day my whole realm heard you screaming my name. Begging for me." His voice lowered even more, eyes daring you to deny. Your cheeks fired, hands felt sweaty, you felt trapped. His gaze was a hunting one, a predator's gaze to his prey.

"I'm sorry" you said, feeling nervous but aroused, your wetness soaking your shorts.

He clicked his tongue, fingers grazing your cheek. "That's not the answer I am looking for." The back of his hand travelled down to the side of your neck, feeling your pulse. Your skin lit fire in the places he caressed.

"What was it the answer you're looking for?" You asked. His eyes snapped up to yours.

"This." Lips dipping to the curve of your neck, he kissed you very lightly, then he started sucking the spot making your body jerk towards his as the loudest of moans left your mouth. Your moans were slutty to say the least, and he didn't even do anything to you yet.

"So eager. So hungry for me. Tell me, what is it you crave in me?" He leaned back, standing straight as he looked at you. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving as you felt your blood raging to your core.

"I," you shut yourself. This was your chance. Choose your words wisely. "I need all of you. I want you to give me everything you have." You said as excitement filled your eyes.

He chuckled.

"You can't handle that."

"I can. Try me."

"Are you daring me, mortal?" Challenge covered his eyes. You felt your nipples harden, your hands shaking as you felt the seam of your shorts against your clit, you craved friction.

"Yes." You hoped you won't regret that.

In a second, you found yourself spread on the bed, completely naked, all your clothes lost. You gasped, mind clouding with heat, needing friction between your thighs, you rubbed them.

Morpheus hands came down on your knees, pushing your legs apart so wide to the point you felt them strain, you felt his long coat under you, as he rolled the sleeves of his black shirt up.

"You. Need a lesson in discipline." You instantly moaned at his words.

"Such a dirty woman." He said, eyes hungry.

Morpheus licked his lips eagerly, eating your body with his eyes.

"Lay down on your front, ass up." Commanded his voice. Your core was dripping by now and the position you're about to take will make you completely exposed to him.

You did as he asked feeling shy all of a sudden, you kept squirming under his gaze, trying to close your legs so he won't see how wet you are.

You felt his heat behind without him touching you, so close to you feeling the ghost of his pants.

You felt one of his hands caress your inner thigh.

You felt him lean forward until his mouth was beside your ear, his breath fanning your neck.

"Open those legs for me, this position was not made for you to hide from my eyes." Each word felt like a sin coming out of his mouth, you kept from moaning as you nodded your head. His right hand caressed your ass gently, travelling up to squeeze your hip, waist, reaching the curve of your breast, Morpheus caught your tit in his hand kneading it slowly feeling you shiver under him, his eyes glued to your side as your mouth hung open, eyes closed.

"Looking so good for me" he said almost lovingly, you whimpered as his fingers took turns rolling your nipple and rubbing it, God you could cum like that.

"Please" you whispered trying to buck your hips backwards but the hand on your inner thigh gripped it painfully.

You felt his hand leave your breast, coming in contact with your ass. Feeling the pleasure your head rolled back to look at him. You saw his eyes turned to the darkest shades of green with a rim of gold.

"I will punish you first, then the rest comes, if you deserve it." He said as his hand left your inner thigh making you whimper in pain, only for it to grip your neck, choking you softly making you gasp.

His hand slapped you in the same spot making you wiggle touching his pants.

"Now you wouldn't want to ruin my pants, do you?" His face came so close to yours as his hand kept choking your neck, craning it backwards to meet his gaze. You shook your head, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes, feeling your cunt burn for the King who's handling you too good for your mortal brain to comprehend.

"Choose your punishment"

"Slap me"

"Where?"

You move your pussy back to touch him making him exhale at your wetness.

He flipped you around, hands hovering over you, eyes boring holes into yours.

Morpheus smirked as his hand slapped your pussy hard, making you buck your hips up, moaning loudly.

"Count for me"

"One"

Slap. "Two"

Slap. "Three"

You felt your core weeping, feeling your wetness on the curve of your ass, your legs inhumanely wide just to please him.

By the time he hit the tenth slap, you were a shivering mess below him, tears streaming down your face, hands grasping his coat tightly, whimpers of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

Morpheus' hand came up to caress your cheek tenderly, his face coming so close, his lips brushed against yours. "What was it you said? Ruin me for all men?" He asked, your eyelids fluttering shut at the proximity of his voice, his warm lips.

"I think, I'll ruin you for all gods."

Morpheus' cool hand cupped your core making your eyes snap open, gasping softly, his cool hand a relieving contrast to your burning core.

"I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me."

"Yes, m-my Lord." You struggled to say as you tried to buck your hips into his hand.

"Someone's seeking relief and being obedient."

Standing up, Morpheus unbuttoned his shirt, your eyes following his every move until it ended on the floor, your mouth agape at the heavenly sight greeting you, he belonged with marble statues not your bedroom.

His hands went lower to his pants, unbuttoning and discarding them, you can see now how hard he is, his cock straining hard against the fabric, you crawled to him, face level with his boner, you looked at him for permission.

His jaw went tense before nodding. Sitting up on your knees, you caressed his chest with your hands, feeling every ridge and every muscle, his skin soft and cool to touch. Your hands reached the hem of his garment, you felt his pulse beneath your hands, breathing softly you undressed him, watching his swollen cock spring free, your mouth watered involuntarily wanting to taste him, feel him throbbing against your tongue as you lick the vein on his base.

"Lay back."

You looked up at him, worried that he won't let you taste him. He smirked knowingly.

You crawled back up the bed until your head hit the pillows, he came after you, straddling your torso, legs resting on your sides, his hand leaning on the headboard for support, his cock directly in front of your face.

Everything disappeared at this moment, you felt like cumming on the spot.

Morpheus leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with ease, you couldn't fight him. His other hand went down to your breast, kneading it softly, thumb again brushing your nipple.

You whimpered against his mouth, feeling flushed all over, extremely weak in his arms.

"Morpheus." You panted looking at his eyes, your hand coming up to touch his on your breast.

"I want to taste you." You said looking at his cock. He let the headboard free along with your breast making you miss his touch immediately.

He readjusted your head on the pillow, giving you more space.

Morpheus' hands grabbed each of your tits, pushing his cock between them, he started thrusting slowly, feeling your soft flesh caress him, he threw his head back sucking in a breath. You watched him with awe, he could never be more beautiful, hair tousled, lips parted, neck flushed with heat. The feeling of his thick, long dick between your breasts made you look, pleasured noises leaving you. You opened your mouth, wanting him to thrust his tip in it. Knowing your need, Morpheus put his hand at the back of your neck, supporting it, he thrust his tip into your mouth. You sucked at it slowly, rolling your tongue around it while looking up at him with wide eyes. Seeing you like this, spread out for him, so hungry and willing to take him whole wherever he wants, Morpheus felt a fire ignite in his soul, his eyes burning with desire for you.

He kept thrusting his tip teasing you, making you more desperate for him, by this moment you no longer cared what you wanted, you just needed to please him properly.

You put your hand on the back of his, behind your head, guiding more of him into your mouth. Morpheus exhaled loudly, whether of relief or pleasure you wanted to give him your best.

Sitting a bit up, you adjusted so you can suck him better, you started swirling your tongue around him, doing cat licks at the tip.

Morpheus let out the first moan, one of pure ecstasy. The voices he emitted ignited you more, bobbing your head faster, taking him deeper, he wrapped your hair around the hand holding your neck, roots tugging softly you moaned around his cock making it jerk in your mouth. Morpheus head hung low looking at you in the eyes, mouth hung open in awe at your face stuffed with his cock, he thrusted deeper, feeling your throat close around his tip, you evened your breathing to prevent gagging. Letting you breathe, you took more of him until you reached his base, hugging his thighs with your arms you drove your head deeper until your nose was so close to his skin. Morpheus was a gasping mess, his pale face turned red, plump lips biting themselves to hold from filling you with his cum. He wanted to fuck his cum into you, feel it mix with your wetness as your pussy took all of him greedily.

He groaned at the thought, tugging you off him, you were gasping for breath.

Morpheus travelled down your body, lips nipping at your neck, hands holding your waist, he started marking your stomach, down to your lower belly.

Hovering over your now flooded pussy, he looked up at you and what a sight it was.

"Do you want me here?" He asked as the slightest of smirks graced his face. He was well aware of your dreams both in the dreaming and waking worlds, he was sure you needed him most there.

"I remember you needed my mouth on your lips, breasts and between your legs. Is that right?" Morpheus teased your slit with two fingers running up and down agonizingly slow , wetness collecting at the tips of his fingers. You looked him in the eye, you knew you played a game you'd definitely love to lose, but you were so turned on you didn't want to back down, you only wanted to spur him further, you wanted him to take you until you collapsed.

"I also said I wanted your majesty to fuck me raw until I can't breathe."

Sensing the sarcasm in your voice, Morpheus' face hardened. Oh fuck.

Cupping your clit with his lips, sucking at it wholly, you arched your back off the bed as you started shaking. Gasping his name you clawed at his coat under you, wanting anything to hold you down as pleasure shot straight to your nerves. Your hands tugged at his hair. You felt yourself tightening with searing hot pleasure coursing through your body, so close to cum.

Suddenly everything stopped. Tears streamed down from your eyes, your breath unable to reach your lungs properly. Morpheus took your hands off his head, pinning them above you.

"Disrespecting Morpheus and his powers. Making fun of Morpheus while your body begs for him in the most shameful ways." Morpheus moves up your body until his lips are against yours, his achingly hard cock touching your inner thigh. Fingers brushed against your lower lip, the rest of his hand on the side of your neck squeezing lightly.

"Shall I be your never ending nightmare? Everytime you close your eyes to sleep I'll be haunting your dreams, edging you, tasting you, riding you, then you'll wake up with no release. Would you want that?" You whined in protest as he entered his thumb in your mouth, holding your tongue.

"That's what I thought."

Freeing your hands, Morpheus lifted one leg on his shoulder, the other wrapping around his hips. This is it. Morpheus is gonna fuck you into oblivion.

You felt his cock at your entrance, his angry tip teasing you, going up and down your slit, he caught his cock and slapped your clit making you mewl in pleasure. Not able to take it any more, you waited until he adjusted at your entrance slowly pushing in, you bucked your hips forcefully driving his cock deep.

Both of you erupted in sinful moans, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling your soul leave your body.

Morpheus gasped, going all the way out, slamming into you feeling his tip brushing your cervix.

"Do you like it that way? Do you?" Morpheus started moving into you, slow, deep, strong thrusts driving you up the bed, his hands came to your waist holding you in place.

" Faster. Morpheus. Harder." You begged him. You were two thrusts away from cumming, being so worked up. Morpheus started moving faster, fulfilling your desires, he drove his hips harder into you, feeling you clenching around him made him growl in an animalistic way. His primal need taking over his mind, Morpheus felt your pussy tighten around him, your coil so tight it'd snap any minute, he wanted to please you and show you love at the same time.

He pressed one hand onto your lower abdomen.

"Can you feel me? Am so deep in you, ruining you for other men. Fucking you raw until you can't breathe." You were a shaky, sweating mess, all words in your brain lost, all thoughts incoherent.

One thing only vivid in your mind. Morpheus.

"Morph-eus, p-please. I n-need to c-cum for you." You begged quitely, unable to form a sentence.

"Will you be a good girl and scream for me like you did in your dream?" Morpheus rolled his hips swiftly, touching every spot that drove you absolutely wild.

"Morpheus! Fuck" you screamed so loud feeling every vein in his cock pulsing against your walls.

Groaning each time you scream, Morpheus opened your legs wider, you hugged his hips with your legs, caging him to your body, letting his weight fall over your body, he took you in his arms, your hands instantly gripping his shoulders.

The new angle made him hit your spot better, eyes seeing stars you felt your orgasm so high up you thought you'd faint. His hand came down to your clit, rubbing circles with each thrust of his.

"Let go, darling. I've got you. Give me all you've got." Morpheus' voice promised against your ear.

Screaming his name, your body convulsed in his muscular arms, feeling your orgasm shatter in pleasurable ways you couldn't imagine.

"You're doing so good for me, taking me so well like you were made for me." Morpheus praised you, chasing his own high, feeling your aftershocks against his cock, he felt your fingers holding his back, hot and needy. He drove faster into you, your second orgasm already at your door.

"Morpheus, Morpheus fuck." You moaned shamefully.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Your chanting of his name driving him wild. Biting his earlobe, you sucked on his pulse, your hand travelling down to caress his balls.

Morpheus groaned deeply in your ear, snapping his hips roughly, you came in his arms, convulsing like mad, feeling his hot cum fill you up to the brim.

Morpheus came and for seconds kept fucking his cum into you, listening to the noise you both made with your need for each other.

You struggled to breathe as you tried fanning yourself, coming down from your very pleasuring high.

"Was that as good as the dream?" Morpheus asked, face resting on your chest as he looked at you, still inside of you.

"Morpheus, I-" you hesitated. You didn't know what to do or say. You felt love swell your heart. You thought it was lust but now you know, you've fallen for the King of dreams.

" I've never felt this beauty, this pleasure, this love and desire." You whispered softly.

"Love? You haven't seen any love." Morpheus said. "Yet." He added quickly making your eyes snap up at his.

Slowly, his coat started surrounding you both, shielding you from the outside world, getting darker, you were starting to feel scared.

Morpheus' eyes vowed to make you safe, as the coat started shining very softly, stars with dim light shone around you. Just like your first dream of him.

The feeling was more delightful than anything you've ever felt, you felt..... Whole.

Morpheus body connected with yours like you were one, it was indeed lust-driven, but you knew you couldn't deny the flame that burned deep inside you once you found his book, you knew you'd fall for him.

"Morpheus." You whispered, playing with his hair.

"I am here, love. No need to call for me." He kissed your sternum softly you barely missed his lips.

"I feel safe." You admitted.

Morpheus' eyes shone in adoration, possessiveness and the instinct of protecting you multiplying inside of him.

He moved to your side, holding you close to his firm chest, face buried in your neck, he pecked it softly rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

Your mind wandered, what if he leaves? He has to go somehow, sometime. You felt your heart tug at the idea, picturing yourself without him.

"No need for these doubts. I am not leaving you, if I ever shall not be here, all you have to do is just call the name. Call my name. I have came to you every time you called for me, not even knowing I was there. I will always be here." He pressed a long kiss to your shoulder, your doubts faded, you wanted to feel warm and safe for once in your disturbed life.

Holding his arm tighter against yours, you relaxed into his body.

"I am crazy for you, Morpheus." You admitted in the air, coming out from you almost a whisper.

"I call it love." A rare, earnest smile adorned his lips.

You were crazy in love.

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Tell me what you think! Hope you enjoyed it xoxo

2K notes · View notes

daddyjackfrost · 2 years

Text

Chapter 2: Hello, Again

╰┈➤ ❝ [stay with me ; morpheus ] ❞

morpheus x fem!reader

warnings: third person pov, 7k+ words (wtf), not a lot of morpheus in it (sorry), each break is a time jump, if u don’t like it don’t tell me i’ll cry. i obviously haven’t read the travels of marco polo… so

read chapter 3 here

stay with me ; masterlist

A light, summer breeze brushed against Y/n’s cheek, like a parent greeting a child for the first time.

Fluttering her eyes open, Y/n stared up at the bright blue sky. The grass beneath her was soft, a pillow of green scattered with bright flowers.

Pushing herself to sit up, Y/n took in the scenery before her. She laid in a beautiful clearing, one filled with flowers and tall grass. There was nothing beyond the field, not a tree or person in sight.

She was completely alone.

Breathing in the crisp air, Y/n stood. She smoothed her dress, a colour she did not recognize, but instantly fell in love with. Spreading her arms, she twirled. The grass tickled her feet but her laughter came from within.

Y/n began to walk. She had no destination, but her curiosity would not leave her still. The clearing, one she was sure she had seen before, had to have an end.

“Am I… dreaming?” Y/n asked herself, softly. She was afraid she might have disturbed the peace if she spoke normally. Bringing her fingers to her face, she began to lightly trace the structure of her face. Although she felt like herself, she could not be too sure.

A sudden thunder-like noise erupted around her, causing the land beneath her feet to shake. The once blue sky cracked, revealing darkness before it stitched itself back together.

Blinking, Y/n found herself standing in a forest. The empty field had been replaced with tall trees. The peaceful hum of wind was now accompanied by the sounds of birds. The forest felt different, dangerous, luring.

Y/n heard hurried, rustling footsteps approach her. Hiding herself behind a tree, Y/n’s eyes fell on a man dressed as a merchant. His hair had become unruly and his eyes were crazed, like an animal locked in its cage for too long.

“I am Marco Polo, and I am lost.” His words were slurred, hurried. Y/n watched him as he stood in between two trees, head darting to the left, and then the right in a loop. “I am Marco Polo, and I am lost.”

Stepping out of the tree’s safety, Y/n stood in the open. If this is a dream, surely I cannot be harmed, she reasoned. Taking a step towards the man, Y/n put her hand up in greeting. “Hello, there.”

The man, Marco Polo, jumped, letting out a quiet yelp. Snapping his head to Y/n, his eyes grew in size at the sight of her. Minutes later, he raised his hand. His lips parted but he shut them quickly, looking disheartened.

“My name is Y/n.” She smiled at the man, eyes trailing his dirty, worn out clothes. “Are you truly lost?”

The man nodded, solemnly. Licking his cracked lips, he spoke. “I am Marco Polo.”

“Greetings to you, Marco Polo. How long have you been lost?”

Digesting her words, Marco Polo held up both hands, spreading his fingers. He pressed his lips together, stopping himself from speaking.

Raising both her eyebrows, Y/n’s mouth fell open. “Ten years?” Her heart broke at the sight of his insanity. Staring at the man, she tilted her head. “Am I not dreaming? Have you been lost within a dream?”

Marco Polo nodded, his lips turned downwards. He wanted to tell Y/n his story, but he had lost the ability to speak normally long ago. His language consisted of eight words, and they had been his companions for a long time.

Y/n pursed her lips, in thought. She was sure this was a dream, but the man before her felt real. His anguish felt real. With a softer voice, she asked him, “have you forgotten how to speak?”

Nodding once again, Y/n sighed. “I wish you could speak more than eight words, Marco Polo. I would love to hear your thoughts. Your story.”

As water flowed through the Nile, words flowed down Marco’s throat, rushing to his head. His eyes widened as he tasted his thoughts on his tongue for the first time in a long time.

Y/n watched as Marco Polo’s eyes brightened, she took the slightest step back as he jumped, clapping his hands.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Y/n let out a disbelieving laugh, her eyebrows furrowed as she clapped along Marco Polo. “You can speak!”

Marco Polo danced around Y/n, singing a merry song. She relished in his joy, deciding to put aside her curiosity. This is a dream, she thought. Anything can be possible.

Smiling brightly, Marco Polo grabbed Y/n’s hand, kissing it. “May you reign The Dreaming forever, Y/n. I will remember your kindness and worship you. You shall become my home’s patron.”

A confused smile rested on Y/n’s lips. “Pardon me, sir? I am afraid I do not understand.”

“You are a Goddess, yes? A ruler of The Dreaming?”

Y/n’s eyes widened and she brought her hands up in protest. “I fear you have mistaken me, Marco. I am not a Goddess. I am human. I do not know what I have done.”

Marco Polo’s eyes narrowed, raising an eyebrow.

“You wished me to speak.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, understanding him. “I wished you could speak, Marco. I could not have wished you to speak.”

Marco Polo did not understand. He smiled easily, waving his hand in dismissal. “Politics do not worry me. I have been separated from my father and uncle for far too long. No one here has yet to aid me.”

Looking desperate, he grabbed both of Y/n’s hands gently, capturing her full attention. “Help me, Goddess. Wish me home.”

Feeling helpless, Y/n played into the man’s fantasy. She could not wish him home. She was only human. She had no power, and he was just a dream.

“What is home?”

Marco Polo sighed in delight. “A caravan. It is old, but beautiful. Filled with candles and honey.”

Squeezing Marco Polo’s hands at his yearning, she whispered. “I wish you could go home, Marco Polo. Back to your beautiful, honey filled caravan.”

Y/n and Marco Polo stared at each other, one with hope, the other with sadness.

The sound of crushed grass and bricks travelled to their ears and they turned towards the sound. Trees to their right disappeared and in their absence, a path of brick lay. The brick path was long, fading into the distance.

“You have done it!”

“How?”

Marco Polo and Y/n shared a look before he dropped her hands, running to the path. Y/n watched with confused amazement as Marco Polo ran down the path, waving to her. She raised her hand, waving limply.

“Goodbye, Y/n! Bless you!”

Y/n watched Marco Polo disappear. Curious, she yelled, “Marco?” After a beat, from a distance, she heard a response. “Polo!”

Walking to the path, she crouched down and brushed the red bricks with her fingers. Solid under her fingers, she stood and stepped upon the path. Walking slowly, she thought of the strange man’s words.

The Dreaming.

Goddess.

She was not a Goddess, she knew that much. She was human. A human who had dreamed for the first time in over two hundred years. “I wonder why that is,” Y/n questioned herself.

Looking ahead, Y/n found her path coming to an end. The bricks ended and a new path, one made of stone that crossed a moat greeted her. Past the vines and stone, Y/n saw two beautiful homes.

Stepping off the brick path, Y/n’s feet swayed beneath her. Noises invaded her ears and she began blinking harshly. The stone path before her began to flicker, and Y/n let out a small sigh.

She was waking up.

“Next time,” she whispered. Y/n fell to her knees and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking up at her ceiling.

A secret smile on her face.

Finding herself at the entrance to two houses, surrounded by forest and green, Y/n was back in The Dreaming for the first time in ten years.

Every night for the last ten years, Y/n had tried to dream. She had tried every tea, herb, and scent, and yet she slept dreamless.

It was an odd feeling, to be back. And to have been gone.

This night had been the one night in ten years where Y/n felt truly alone. She had laid in her bed content, filled to the brim with love, but had wished to share it with someone. Immortality was a blessing hidden in a curse. And yet, she wished to live.

Being alone was a privilege Y/n had great acquaintance with, but she loved it. She had trouble identifying the difference between freedom and loneliness.

Lifting her maroon dress, Y/n walked towards the stone path she had seen ten years ago. She could hear faint voices from the houses.

Stepping on the stone path, Y/n felt a chill press into her skin. With each step, the chill pressed harder and harder until Y/n was gasping, in pain. Pushing herself, Y/n reached the end of the path, and laid her eyes on two houses. Before her eyes fell on two men.

“For heaven’s sake, Abel, if you cannot keep your gargoyle’s waste off my property, I will kill you.”

“Sorry, Cain. I promise Goldie’s trying.”

“Do not blame the gargoyle, Abel. They are intelligent creatures. You on the other hand…”

Y/n slowed at the sight of the two men. They were both short, with similar dark hair, beards, and brown skin. The one slightly taller had a sharpness to him. He was dressed slightly less proper than the other, shorter one. His ears were also pointy. The shorter one, Y/n noticed, had a softer look.

Staying on the edge of the stone path, Y/n raised her hand. “Hello, gentleman!” She called out.

Both of the men whipped their heads to her, mouths falling agape. The taller one tightened his grip on his yardstick. The shorter one smiled, raising his hand.

Y/n slowly walked towards them, taking in the beautiful scenery. She noticed how both houses complemented each man. They resembled countryside cottages.

Stopping before them, she smiled. Before she could offer her name or another greeting, the one with pointy ears spoke first.

“Who are you?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you? How did you get here?”

Before she could answer his questions, the shorter one cut her off. “Be nice, Cain. She’s a visitor!”

Cain turned to his brother, ready to wage a war. Y/n, having been quiet long enough, spoke.

“My name is Y/n. I am human. And I woke up here.”

“What do you mean you woke up here?” Cain’s words were accusatory, loud.

“Last time I fell asleep, I walked along a path that brought me here. Then I woke up. When I fell asleep today, I dreamt of being here.”

Cain and the other man she assumed to be her brother, stared at her. The other one’s eyes widened.

“You are a human?”

Y/n nodded. “Yes. Mind I ask what your name is?”

“Abel. I am Abel and this is my brother,” he pointed at the man next to him, “Cain.”

Y/n blinked. Once. Twice. “Cain and Abel? As in the sons of Adam and Eve?”

Cain and Abel looked at each other and then at Y/n. They both nodded. “Yes and no,” Cain said. “We are dreams that embody who we once were on Earth.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dreams that embody…” She glanced at her hands, making sure she had ten fingers. “This is my dream. Have I dreamt you?”

Y/n felt confused. First, it was Marco Polo. A man she had never met, nor heard of. Now, it was Cain and Abel, men who had died a long, long time.

Cain scoffed. “We are not your dreams, we are part of The Dreaming. And you should not be here. You do not belong.”

“Cain,” Abel said. “She’s the first visitor we have had in a long time. I want her to meet Gregory! Oh, and Goldie.”

Cain’s eyes burned with rage, but he swallowed it. Y/n tried to remember their story, but all she could recall was murder. Unconsciously, she shifted closer to Abel.

Abel and Y/n looked at Cain, expectedly. With a resigned sigh that promised a war, Cain nodded.

“I suppose since you are already here, we can entertain you.”

Abel smiled at Y/n and waved her closer. As soon as Y/n stepped onto the grass, the land beneath her rumbled and her knees buckled. Cain and Abel held each other.

Once the land stopped shaking, Cain and Abel looked at Y/n. “Are you sure you are human?” Abel asked her. Y/n nodded, hoping to convince them and herself. “Promise.”

Abel, satisfied, smiled at her. “Well, come on then. Let me show you my home first.”

Y/n walked towards Abel. He motioned towards his home. “This is The House of Secrets. It is a focal location here, in The Dreaming.”

Y/n took in the cottage. It looked welcoming. “It is very beautiful, Abel.” Abel smiled, pleased. “It changes periodically,” he explained. “Secrets change, develop, as does the House.” He stopped just outside the door, frowning. “This is as far as I can take you.”

Y/n smiled, content. She had already seen so much.

“Thank you, Abel. Can I ask you a question?”

Abel nodded, giving Y/n his full attention. “What is The Dreaming? How can I dream…this?”

Abel scratched his beard. “Well, this is The Dreaming. When humans sleep, they come here. As for your second question, you should ask Lucienne.”

“Who is Lucienne?”

“The chief librarian. She has almost all the answers. However…you could ask Lord Morpheus. If you ever meet him.”

A wave of warmth washed over Y/n at the name. The pit of her stomach fluttered and her heart skipped a beat. “Lord Morpheus?”

“Yes,” Abel said. “He is the Ruler of The Dreaming.”

“Of course,” Y/n said. “How can I meet Lucienne?”

Abel raised an eyebrow, bringing his finger to his chin. “Not sure. Human’s can not enter the Heart of The Dreaming.”

Before Y/n could ask anymore, a small, golden, winged animal flew by her, landing on Abel’s shoulder. Y/n watched with utmost curiosity and amazement at the animal. Its large eyes looked at her, and she could have sworn it smiled.

“Y/n,” Abel smiled at her. “Meet Goldie.”

Y/n’s eyes softened at the animal. She gently reached out, hovering her hand over its head. Goldie tilted his chin up, her fingers brushing against his head.

“Beautiful,” she whispered. Looking at Abel, she asked him: “What is it?”

Abel blinked, he had never met anyone who did not know what a gargoyle was. With a jolly laugh, he patted Goldie’s head. “Goldie’s a gargoyle. Just a baby, though.”

“A gargoyle?” Y/n thought back to palace statues and old paintings. They did not look like this. They had been used as symbols of fear, but Goldie looked anything but.

“Have you yet to meet a gargoyle?”

Y/n nodded, suddenly shy. “The animals where I come from are not so… magical.”

“Would you like to hold him?”

Y/n’s eyes shifted from Goldie to Abel’s smiling face. He scooped the gargoyle in his hands and held him out. “Goldie is very friendly. His baby teeth have yet to come in.”

Y/n put her hands out. They trembled softly. She had been fine with mysterious lost men and biblical brothers, but a gargoyle felt different. Real. A proper dream.

Placing Goldie in her hands, Abel stepped back. Y/n laughed when Goldie rubbed his head against her thumb. His skin felt similar to the scales of a snake, yet softer. She brought Goldie closer to her face, smiling at him.

“You are exquisite,” she told him.

“Abel!”

At the sound of Cain’s loud, thundering voice, Abel and Y/n jumped. Frightened, Goldie flew out of Y/n’s hands and back to the roof of the House of Secrets.

Y/n and Abel turned to find Cain standing with his arms crossed, an impatient look on his face.

“That is enough,” Cain said. “Send her to my side so she can leave.”

Abel nodded, frowning. “Thank you for visiting, Y/n. I hope to see you soon.”

Y/n smiled, patting Abel’s hand. “Thank you, Abel. I shall never forget this.” Before Y/n walked to Cain’s side, she leaned towards Abel. “Cain is harmless, correct?”

Abel laughed but his eyes felt strained. “Do not worry, Y/n. The only person Cain will ever harm or kill is me. You will be fine.”

Mortified by his confession, Y/n wanted to ask questions, but Cain’s expectant voice interrupted her.

“Any day now!”

Smiling at Abel, she walked to Cain’s side. She noticed how his cottage was taller and darker looking. It looked imbalanced, like a story with one truth told many times.

Cain waited for Y/n with his arms crossed, his foot tapping the ground beneath him in a rapid, steady pattern.

Once she reached him, Y/n smiled. “Your house is very beautiful, Cain.”

Ice melted from Cain’s eyes and he dropped his arms. “Thank you.” He began walking and Y/n followed him. “This is the House of Mystery. My home.”

Y/n’s eyes followed the intricate patterns of the vines, each leading to its own mystery. The cottage had its own tower at the very top, with a dark window.

“Does your home change as Abel’s does?”

“No,” Cain answered, shortly. After a moment, he sighed. “Come. I will let you meet Gregory.”

Cain began walking towards the side of his home, and Y/n quickly followed behind him. Her eyes wandered, taking in the scenery. There was a shed and piles of flowers, scattered along the property.

Cain stepped aside and Y/n’s eyes fell on a large, sleeping gargoyle. Letting out a surprised laugh, she looked at Cain, amazed.

“This is Gregory.”

“He is… green.”

Cain blinked, surprised at her conclusion. “Yes. Gregory is green.” He raised a bushy brown eyebrow at her. “Not very bright, are you?”

Y/n stared at Cain before breaking out in a wide smile. Her smile blinded Cain, and he looked away.

“I have been told worse.”

Ignoring her, Cain tapped Gregory’s nose. Gregory released a long breath through his nose, fluttering his eyes open. Waking his body, the large gargoyle pushed himself up, shaking away slumber.

For the first time in her presence, Cain smiled when Gregory brushed his nose against his hand. Watching him, Y/n realized how much love Cain truly carried within him.

It was not his fault, Y/n thought, that his story had been written this way.

“What a good boy you are,” Cain whispered.

Gregory, with his large eyes, shifted his gaze to Y/n. Curious, he tilted his head. Grunting.

“Yes,” Cain answered. “She is human.”

“You can understand him?”

Cain nodded, stepping aside. “All residents within The Dreaming can understand Gregory.”

Gregory stared at Y/n and she smiled, unsure of what to say. “Hello, Gregory.” She raised her hand in a limp wave. “You are magnificent.”

Gregory grunted, and Cain looked bewildered. His eyes darted to Y/n before settling on her.

“Are you sure, Gregory?” Cain asked, hesitantly. Gregory grunted, to which Cain stepped back. Looking at her, Cain spoke his words slowly. “Gregory would like to speak to you. Alone.”

Y/n eyes widened and she looked from Cain to Gregory. “I cannot understand him.”

Cain’s lips lifted into a lopsided smile. “Yet, human. Yet.”

Cain turned and walked away, leaving Y/n alone with a large gargoyle. She threaded her fingers together, trying to keep her excitement and fear at bay.

Stepping towards Y/n, Gregory lifted his head. Striking eyes stared at her, swirling with wisdom she had yet to earn. Gregory parted his mouth and licked Y/n’s cheek. Y/n stared at Gregory, her mouth agape in surprise.

Y/n felt Gregory’s drool seep into her skin, she reached to her once wet cheek with awe. She looked at Gregory with questions that rested on the tip of her tongue. “What have you…?”

Y/n felt a soft prodding within her mind. A push at her conscience. With little hesitance, she opened her mind, welcoming a rush of warmth.

A low, slow voice whispered in her mind. It felt ancient, all-knowing. “You are not human.”

Staring into Gregory’s eyes, Y/n knew the gargoyle was speaking to her. “I am,” she responded. “I am human. I have always been human.”

“May you always be connected to your humanity, Y/n. Immortality is water, and you are but a stone. Slowly, with time, you will erode. Fragments will wash away and your humanity will dissolve.”

Y/n stepped back. Gregory’s words felt remorseful, promising. The concept of immortality had been left untouched by Y/n for years. She simply wished to live a mundane life for as long as she loved.

“Thank you, Gregory.” Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hand and rested it upon Gregory’s snout. “You said I am not human. Why?”

Gregory’s head shook slightly. “Not all curiosity is welcomed, Y/n.”

Receiving the message, Y/n nodded. She rubbed Gregory’s snout, enjoying the feeling of his skin under hers. She breathed in the fresh air, feeling content.

Y/n heard footsteps approach her and she turned her head, smiling at Abel and Cain. The brothers watched her with a newfound appreciation, once she could not place.

In the distance, a loud caw echoed. Y/n lifted her head to the sky. She had heard that sound before. Y/n, Cain and Abel, and Gregory watched as a black and white raven landed on a nearby tree.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/n smiled. She lifted her hand off Gregory and waved at the raven.

“Jessamy!”

Jessamy croaked in response, watching Y/n with the same precision she used in the Waking World.

“You know Jessamy?” Abel asked Y/n.

Y/n nodded. “Oh, yes. I must have dreamt her here. She is a friend from…”

“The Waking World?” Abel finished.

Y/n smiled at him. “Yes. I wonder why I dreamed of her here.”

Abel opened his mouth, but Cain dug his elbow into Abel’s stomach, quieting him.

At her stare, Cain lifted his shoulders. “I think you should leave, human. Follow the raven back to your own dream.”

Y/n sighed, feeling dreadful. She did not want to wake up. She loved it here. It fulfilled her heart and yearning for company.

“I see,” she said. “Thank you for having me, Cain and Abel. I shall remember you both forever.”

Y/n turned, walking towards the stone path. Abel waved and Cain stood still, his arms beside him. Stepping onto the stone, Y/n turned back and smiled at the brothers. With each step further away, Y/n felt the thread of loneliness tighten around her heart.

Walking towards Jessamy, Y/n noticed how she looked bigger, more regal than she did in the Waking World. Nearing the raven, Y/n smiled. “Now, why would I dream you?”

Jesammy’s head tilted. She had been a raven for Morpheus and The Dreaming for a long time. And yet, she had never met a woman like Y/n. The raven, Morpheus’s most trusted, quite liked watching over the human.

Jessamy perched on the branch before she flew off towards the edge of The Dreaming, guiding Y/n to the place meant for her. The part of The Dreaming Morpheus instructed Jessamy to bring Y/n. Making sure the human followed, Jessamy flew low to the ground.

Y/n ran behind Jesssamy, wind brushing her hair and tussling her dress. The trees pulled towards her, grass parted as she stepped, and the air hugged her. She felt young, free, and so infinitely loved.

Jessamy stopped on a low hanging branch. She had reached the edge of The Dreaming. Looking down, her black orbs stared at Y/n’s huffing figure. Letting out a final caw, she flew off towards the heart of The Dreaming. Returning to Morpheus.

Y/n watched Jessamy fly away. She tasted a tinge of a bittersweet goodbye. Although it was a dream, Y/n could not help but feel that when she woke, she would never see Jessamy again.

“Goodbye, friend.”

The smell of cigars wafted through the air, mixing with the sweet smell of flowers and freshly cut grass.

Y/n’s eyes opened to the sound of haughty laughter. Brushing her hair away from her eyes, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her gaze settling on a black raven and a man with a pumpkin head.

Shifting her eyes from the odd pair, Y/n breathed in the fresh air of The Dreaming, glad to be back after thirty years. She stood, patting down her soft pink dress. At the sound, the raven and pumpkinhead turned to face her.

“Merv, she’s awake!”

“I see that, bird. Great observation.”

Anxious as to what her time in The Dreaming would show her, Y/n waved at the pair before she walked towards them. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the man with the pumpkin head had a body made out of wood, and he was smoking.

“Hello, there.” Y/n smiled. “My name’s Y/n.”

“You shook The Dreaming when you appeared, Y/n.”

Y/n blinked. Thirty years was enough to forget about the magic The Dreaming held. And a speaking pumpkin was beyond her imagination.

“Merv,” the black raven sighed. “Just introduce yourself.”

Blowing out cigar smoke, Merv extended his gloved hand towards Y/n. “Mervyn Pumpkinhead, at your service.”

Y/n carefully grasped his hand before gently shaking it. She could feel the hardness of wood beneath his gloves.

The raven cleared his throat. “And I am Matthew, Lord Morpheus’s most trusted emissary.”

That name, Y/n remembered. I have heard it before.

Staring at the raven, Y/n smiled, remembering her old friend. “I did not know ravens spoke. The only raven I knew, Jessamy, never spoke.”

Merv and Matthew stared at Y/n before Merv narrowed his hollow eyes. “You know Jessamy?”

Y/n nodded. “I do. I have not seen her in years, but she was a friend.”

“Interesting,” Merv said, curiously. He glanced behind Y/n before looking at her. “Any reason as to why the ground shook when you appeared here?”

Y/n pursed her lips. She did not know why The Dreaming always had a moment of imbalancement when she made an appearance. Instead of answering the man that resembled bogeyman that farmers used to scare away birds, she clapped her hands.

“I have not visited The Dreaming in quite some time. Would you care to show me around?”

Matthew nodded, cawing. He spread his wings and lifted off the ground, setting himself on Merv’s shoulder. “Merv was just doing rounds. You should join us!”

Before Merv could disagree, Y/n smiled and began walking. Merv looked at Matthew with exasperation before following her. His legs were long and caught up with her quickly, until they walked side-by-side.

“Are you a dream, Mervyn?”

The pumpkinhead sighed, seemingly annoyed with the conversation that had yet to begin. “Just Merv, please. And yes. I take charge of the construction, maintenance, and demolition work in The Dreaming.”

Y/n hummed, listening. “I see. I did not realize that The Dreaming did not repair itself.”

Merv scoffed. “Oh, kid, trust me. It can. Dream can will The Dreaming to change. I exist because of free labor.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “Funnily enough, I know someone named Dream as well.”

Y/n looked at Matthew. “You called yourself an emissary?”

Matthew nodded. “That’s right. Ever since Jessamy chose jobs in the Waking World, I have replaced her as Morpheus’s raven.”

“Can I meet Morpheus?”

Merv halted midstep, turning his head to stare at Y/n with his mouth agape. “Humans do not meet the Ruler of The Dreaming. He’s dramatic that way.”

Disappointed, Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Very well, then.”

“Say,” Matthew began. “What were you doing just laying there?”

“I always lay on the grass before I open my eyes.”

Matthew and Merv shared a look Y/n was desperate to translate. Before she could ask, Merv pointed to their left. “I have a house to repair there. Let’s go.”

Turning, they walked towards the house. Y/n’s eyes deceived her as the scenery changed from a forest to rocky mountains.

As if stepping into a new world, her eyes soaked in all it had to offer. A small cottage sat in between two mountains, a river intricately placed, protecting it.

“How is this possible?”

Merv glanced at Y/n before knocking on the door. “The shorter answer is magic. The longer answer is too long.”

A winged woman with pointed ears and light hair answered the door, her dress shimmered in the sun. Y/n’s mouth parted in awe, having never seen a fairy.

Merv tilted his head upwards in greeting. “What is it this time, Fae?”

“Back door, Merv. I keep hitting it.” Her voice was soft, child-like. Bright, golden eyes met hers and Y/n grinned. The fairy smiled, waving shyly at her. “You brought a guest, Merv.”

“I came too!” Y/n was unsure whether ravens could frown, but she assumed Matthew was doing so.

Fae giggled, motioning them inside. “Matthew! How lovely to see you.”

The inside of Fae’s home was magical. It was beyond anything Y/n had ever seen, and she had seen many homes. Merv walked through the cottage as if he owned it and pulled a singular tool from his belt.

Y/n watched Merv work from afar as Matthew and Fae spoke to each other, quietly. She basked in the normalcy she felt being here, in The Dreaming. It was unlike anything she felt when awake.

“Can I offer you anything?”

Y/n turned to find Fae looking at her with shy eyes and a small smile. Shaking her head, she introduced herself. “My name is Y/n.”

“Fae,” the fairy responded. “Are you a new dream?”

Y/n’s eyebrows lifted. “A new dream? I do not think so. I am human.”

Fae’s nose scrunched and she looked at Matthew before looking back at her. “Human? But you are here.”

“Yes,” Y/n said. “Merv and Matthew brought me along.”

Fae was beyond comprehension. She chose not to speak further and simply smiled at Y/n.

“Done,” Merv said. He turned to look at Fae with a frown. “Try not to break anything for some time.”

Fae smiled a secretive smile. “I shall try.”

Merv and Matthew walked out the open door, and Y/n followed. She turned to look back at the fairy and waved. “Goodbye, Fae!”

Fae raised her hand, smiling. “Farewell, Y/n.”

Turning, Y/n found herself back in her treasured, familiar forest. Mervyn leaned against a large tree, smoking. Matthew flew in circles, stretching his wings.

The sight felt comforting to Y/n. A small part of her wondered if this is what she missed in her waking life. The magical nonsense an immortal being should be surrounded with.

“Well, kid,” Merv smiled. “Duty calls elsewhere.”

Matthew landed on her shoulder and Y/n pet his head. “Can I ask you a question before you leave, Merv?”

Merv nodded. “What is it?”

“Can a human… stay in The Dreaming?”

Laughing jadedly, Merv shook his head. “Funny, kid.” At her wide eyes and downturned lips, he sighed. “The Dreaming is a realm for humans to visit.”

“Unfortunate,” Y/n tried to smile. “I suppose I will have to visit often, then.”

Mathew chirped beside her. “When you visit next, come find me! I’ll give you a tour.”

Y/n grinned. “Thank you, Matthew.”

Mercy pushed himself off the tree, beckoning Matthew to follow. “See you later, kid.”

Y/n watched the pumpkinhead and raven walk away until they disappeared within the trees. Releasing a long breath, she decided to wander until she woke up.

Walking in the opposite direction, Y/n mulled over all she had learned about The Dreaming. She had yet to meet other humans, and she wondered about the Ruler of The Dreaming.

Lord Morpheus.

A warm pull tugged at her, making her stumble.

“Careful, there.”

Y/n’s eyes snapped to a man with golden hair and white clothing. He leaned against a tree, his eyes covered with round, black lenses. His smile was menacing, and everything about him, despite his light look, felt dark. Dangerous.

Y/n smiled at him, pushing away ill feelings. She had yet to meet an unpleasant creature in The Dreaming.

“You alright?”

Y/n nodded, smoothing out her dress. “Yes, thank you. I’m Y/n.”

The well-dressed man pushed himself off the tree and walked towards Y/n, the way predators stalk their prey. Y/n tried her best not to cower.

Extending his hand, the man bowed lightly.

“Corinthian.” He kissed Y/n’s hand. “A pleasure.”

Y/n smiled. “I was just walking aimlessly. Would you like to join me?”

The Corinthian’s smile was unlike anything Y/n had ever seen. It repelled the forest, pushing the trees away. “It would be an honor.”

Linking arms at the elbows, Y/n and the Corinthian began walking. Their skin did not touch, but Y/n could feel chills run through her.

“Are you a dream, Corinthian?”

Corinthian let himself dwell on the notion of being a dream for a moment before he answered.

“Unfortunately, I am not.” He watched Y/n’s reaction. “I’m a nightmare.”

“A… nightmare?”

The Corinthian nodded, feeding off her slight fear. She hid it well, Corinthian mused. Very well.

“Does that frighten you?”

Y/n considered her answer. It did not frighten her as much as it surprised her. In her mind, nightmares were dark and terrifying creatures. Words she would not use to describe the man beside her.

“No,” she decided. “A human must dream and have nightmares for a balanced life. I suppose I did not expect a nightmare to be so… charming.”

The Corinthhian smiled, pleased. “Is that right?” He swiftly turned them towards the direction of the Gatekeepers. “Can I ask you something, Y/n?”

Y/n nodded. “Anything.”

“What is it like to be human? Free?”

Y/n tilted her head in thought. She had not been expecting a question about freedom. After a few quiet moments, she answered.

“To be human is to be alone. Wrong. Free, yet not completely. I am fortunate enough to be able to do what I please, but many others cannot. Freedom is not definite, and means something different for each person.”

The Corinthian said nothing as he digested her words. Her words were human enough, and they quietened the hum in his heart.

Y/n’s eyes grew heavy and she slowed. She recognized the feeling. Her body was waking, and she silently cursed it.

The Corinthian unlinked their arms, tipping his head. “A pleasure, Y/n. We will have to do this again.”

Before she woke, Y/n watched him walk away until the world around her grew hazy and she shut her eyes.

The smell of oak and ink invaded Y/n’s nose as she opened her eyes, finding herself at the entrance to a vast and never-ending library.

Aisles and aisles of books surrounded her. Some with names and others with titles she had never read. Low, yellow lights illuminated the library, reminding her of her own library. She swallowed her disappointment, replacing it with awe.

With a gentleness only a scholar could afford, she traced the spines of the books as she walked down an aisle, whispering the titles under her breath. It had been seventy years since Y/n had visited The Dreaming for the first time, and she was glad she had dreamed of a library instead of a forest.

Reaching the end of the aisle, Y/n found a staircase leading to a higher level. Curious, she climbed the stairs quietly. Walking down the corridor, she found herself mesmerized by the architecture of the library. Much like her own, this library was made completely of wood and metal.

Reaching large wooden doors with intricate designs made by vines, she pushed them open. The walls of the room held an uncountable amount of books, and in the middle, a large pedagogical desk rested. Walking into the room, Y/n’s eyes drank in the room.

The organized chaos was pleasing to her. It resembled her own library, her life. She silently praised the occupant of the room, hoping to meet them. An inkling told her she would be good friends with them.

Brushing the spines, she breathed in the familiar smell of ink and wood.

“Can I help you?”

Startled, Y/n spun to face the office doors. Her eyes landed on a black woman wearing a brown suit. Her hands were locked, resting on her stomach. Her shaved head displayed her pointed ears, which resembled Cain and Abel’s. Circular, vintage eyeglasses rested on her nose.

“Oh my, you surprised me.” Y/n placed a hand on her resting heart, willing it to slow. At the woman’s expectant eyebrow, she explained herself. “I apologize,” she said. “I woke here and began to wander. This room looked very tempting. All these stories…” There was awe in Y/n’s voice.

The woman’s eyebrow lowered until they furrowed.

“Woke here? In the library?”

Y/n nodded, giving the woman her full attention.

“Yes.”

The woman pushed her eyeglasses back onto the bridge of her nose. “That is not…” She paused before smiling. “I am Lucienne. The chief librarian. This is my library.”

A relieved laugh escaped Y/n before she grinned. “Lucienne? Oh, how I have wanted to meet you. I am Y/n.”

At her name, Lucienne’s smile dropped and her eyes widened. Y/n watched an infinite amount of emotions dance across Lucienne’s face before she settled on nonchalance.

“A pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” Lucienne’s words seemed earnest, but Y/n was no fool to faux pleasantry. She had, after all, spent centuries with all kinds of men and women.

Lucienne walked into the room and sat at her desk. She motioned for Y/n to take the opposite chair.

“Please,” she said. “Join me.”

Y/n joined Lucienne, sitting on the opposing chair. Both women looked at each other before smiling. Y/n’s eyes travelled along the book titles. “The books,” she began. “I have never seen nor heard of many of them.”

Lucienne laid her hands flat on the desk. “My library consists of the books and stories that have ever been dreamed, volumes that do not exist in the waking world.”

“That is magnificent,” Y/n whispered. Lucienne could not help but smile at her awe, knowing Y/n loved books as much as she did.

“The names…”

“The library consists of records of every human’s life in the Waking World as well as The Dreaming.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Does that mean I have a book?”

Lucienne pursed her lips, contemplating. She was unsure of how much to share with Y/n.

“Not entirely,” Lucienne finally answered. “You are a special case, Y/n.” Before Y/n could ask questions, Lucienne spoke again. “I am afraid I cannot share anymore.”

Deflating, Y/n sat back in her seat. She decided she would add Lucienne’s words to the never-ending list of questions and the unexplained. Changing course, she asked Lucienne a question that had been on the tip of her tongue.

“Abel said you had all the answers. Do you, Lucienne?”

Threading her fingers together, Lucienne tilted her head, curious. “That would depend on the question, Y/n.”

Hesitancy dancing on her tongue, Y/n pursed her lips. Sighing, she met Lucienne’s penetrating gaze. “Is it possible to meet someone here, in The Dreaming?”

A list of potential names appeared in Lucienne’s mind. “It is.” After a moment, she asked, “who are you looking for, Y/n?”

For the first time in a long time, Y/n felt nervous. After many years, she finally understood why she had begun to dream.

“Immortality is a blessing,” she said. “I am thankful for it everyday. I have loved and lived. However… I never realized how lonely it would get.”

Lucienne drank in her words. Her interactions with humans were limited, and hearing Y/n speak opened Lucienne’s mind to human wants and needs. Books could only teach so much.

“There is a man, well, not a man, but a being who visits me every century on the same day. He is not a conversationalist, nor has he many manners, but his company washes away the loneliness. Perhaps it is because he too is immortal, and understands.”

Lucienne’s breathing stopped, and her heart sped up. From context, she knew it was Morpheus that Y/n spoke of. Lucienne assumed it had been a loved one, perhaps a husband or friend that Y/n yearned to meet.

Lord Morpheus had never been an option.

“This… being,” Lucienne kept her voice light, “what is his name?”

Y/n smiled. “Oneiros.”

Against her better judgement, Y/n missed the strange man’s company. It was comforting to know she would see a familiar face when those around her passed, and that he would find her anywhere.

A hundred years was too many years. Even for an immortal.

Lucienne released a long breath. She could not tell Y/n that the being she wished to see was the King of Dreams, the Ruler of Nightmares.

“I have never heard of him.” Lucienne’s voice wavered.

The lie burned Lucienne’s tongue, a dark mark on her once clean record. Lucienne was not a liar, but she had become one now. For The Dreaming, she reasoned. That is all.

Y/n’s shoulders sagged and she frowned. Years of interactions had her fluent in human behaviour. She knew Lucienne was lying, but Y/n was in no position to call on a dream.

Compared to Lucienne, Y/n was a singular file, one in millions.

“I see,” Y/n hummed. “Perhaps that is for the best. I will see him in thirty years.”

Lucienne smiled. Her eyes drifted behind Y/n for a moment before settling back on her. “I apologize, Y/n, but I have business to attend to. You are free to explore my library as you wish.”

Y/n smiled at Lucienne. “It was very nice to meet you, Lucienne. I hope we meet again.”

Lucienne walked out of the room and turned down the hall, disappearing. Y/n sat in the chair for a minute before standing and making her way back to the main floor. The closed walls and infinite books soothed her spinning mind.

Strolling down a random aisle, Y/n said every name she read outloud. These were stories of actual people that lived, had lived, or would live. Y/n’s eyes landed on a name she had not thought about in years.

Pulling out the maroon book, she read the title softly, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

“The Travels of Marco Polo.”

Flipping through the book, her eyes widened as she saw her name. Sitting down, she read the passage written about her out loud:

“‘A dream holds enough treasure to please an ordinary man, but an ordinary man cannot be lost in a dream in search of treasure. He [Marco Polo] had been trapped in a dream for ten years before he met a Goddess. Her name was Y/n and for the first time, his wish was not for treasure or for travels, but home. His dream had changed, and it had come true. With the kindness of a Goddess, Marco was sent home.’”

“Well ain’t that just sweet?”

Y/n lifted her eyes from the page to the familiar face of Mervyn Pumpkinhead. She smiled at him, shutting the book. “Hello, again.”

Merv raised his hand in greeting. “Should have known it was you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

“The shaking? It broke a shelf and Lucienne asked me to fix it.”

Y/n stared at Merv before glancing at the books around her. “I did not feel any shaking.”

“Huh…” Merv shrugged his woody shoulders before looking above her. “You’re an interesting thing, kid. See you around.”

Merv walked away and as Y/n called out to him, small soft grains of sand hit her face and she grew immensely tired. The book slipped from her hands and her eyes drooped.

Slumping, Y/n’s head rested against a shelf. Before she shut her eyes for good, a blurred familiar face whispered in her ears.

“Sleep.”

Lucien was a proper and sophisticated dream. She was the chief librarian of The Dreaming. She had innate responsibilities and yet, she could not find it in herself to walk to Morpheus’s throne room.

She ran.

Pushing open the doors, Lucienne bowed hurriedly before threading her fingers together.

“Not even a knock, Lucienne?”

Tilting her head to the ground, Lucienne winced. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but there has been a significant development.” A pause, and then, “about Y/n.”

Morpheus stood on the tenth step, facing his throne. His back was to Lucienne but he could sense her worrisome mood and distress.

“What is it?”

Lucienne stepped forward, her throat dry. “She appeared in the library, sir. She woke up there and walked around it. It is very rare for a human to make it close enough to the gates, and yet she reached my library?” Lucienne rubbed her hands together. “What is she, my Lord?”

Morpheus listened to Lucienne with his utmost attention. He could not tell Lucienne that he knew she had woken in the library. Morpheus did not know how to explain to his librarian that he knew when she was here because he felt a pull in him and it did not let go until she was gone.

Morpheus could not declare to Lucienne that everytime Y/n came closer to him, he allowed it. There was no explanation for his behaviour, for his unconscious need to quiet the hum she rose in him.

Morpheus would not tell Lucienne that Y/n washed away his loneliness, and that his curiosity about her overpowered his need to implement his rules.

And so, the Ruler of The Dreaming said nothing of importance.

“If she brings no harm to The Dreaming, Lucienne, then she is welcome. Just as all humans are.”

“Do you believe she is human, sir?” Lucienne could not believe that her Lord would dismiss her concerns as so. “She sent Marco Polo home. She appeared before Cain and Abel. She visited another dream. Humans cannot do that.”

Morpheus turned, facing Lucienne. His librarian was distressed, and to ease her mind, Morpheus spoke again. “There are some humans that are stronger dreamers than others. I will look into her, Lucienne. You shall not worry.”

Lucienne pursed her lips before nodding. After all, it was his realm.

“Understood, sir.”

Lucienne hurried out of the throne room and Morpheus sighed. In thirty years, he would see her again and ask his questions.

Morpheus would know the woman haunting his dreams.

1K notes · View notes

eviesaurusrex · 2 years

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

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

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

word count: 5k oooops…?

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

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

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

;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knew her.

A change within him followed this realization.

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

Forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morpheus.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bring me home.”

;

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

;

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

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thebatshitcrazyfangirl · 10 months

Text

Sleep Of The Corrupt- Morpheus x Goddess!Reader

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

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

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

WC: 8.4k (Oof…)

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

“Any sign of her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your birthplace. The Waking World.

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

“Forget what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One hour, and not a moment more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here in the darkness…

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

Here in the darkness…

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

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

Here in the darkness…

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

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

You let go- suffocated in unfeeling darkness.

Here in the darkness…

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

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

Here in the darkness…

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

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

Here in the darkness!

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

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

Here in the darkness!

“I summon you with poison!”

You choke; your floating body contorting in unbearable pain.

HeRe In ThE dArKnEsS!

“I summon you with pain!”

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

HeRe In ThE dArKnEsS!

“I open the way, I open the gates…”

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

HERE IN THE DARKNESS!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fools, you nearly broke your façade.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this is rich!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what can you give me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What fools they were, they realized too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you abduct Elaina?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it drained him of all hope.

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

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

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

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

Please be her…

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

“Ellie…”

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

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

His hope was restored.

Elaina was home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jemmy?

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

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

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

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

Elaina sniffled. “S-Something took Mommy…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pain. Infinite agony.

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

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

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

“Confined in an endless cage of my creation…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boom…

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

“Had you been competent enough to catch her?”

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

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

“Ignorance is bliss, my foolish summoner…”

Boom…

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

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

BOOM!

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

With a screech, Burgess fell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A living creature this far down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much like Burgess.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

You wonder what inspired the idea…

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

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

Well, that’s no fun…

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

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

“Love, that’s enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have I done?

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

***

“Argh-”

THUD!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another entity perhaps-

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

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

His sanity would surely combust if he faced another truth!

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

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

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

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

“I’ll handle it.”

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

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

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

Burgess did not sleep that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meow…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoyed!

#The Sandman #The Sandman Fanfic #the sandman netflix #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman fanfiction #lord morpheus #Morpheus x You #morpheus x y/n #goddess!reader #light angst #the sandman fluff #horror

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Text

Idea by @mm2305 - morpheus taking care of an injured reader.

Taglist: @mess-in-side @mm2305 @lex-the-flex @murnsondock @blossomedfloweroflove @dinonuggett

Everything hurt. Your head, your chest, your legs, everything; Even your bodily functions were causing you issues. Your eyes refused to be subjected to blinding lights and perfected to stay tightly shut but it wasn’t enough as the light hitting your eyelids seemed to make them hiss; your lungs relinquished you off their full capacity to inhale air without capsizing and deflecting like a lead balloon; and your ears had put everything within your vicinity on mute from any and all potential sounds both harmless and dangerous.

All you were aware of was the fact that you were hurt, badly and while everything was wavering in and out of colour and consciousness, you could just barely make out the crimson smear that stained your skin like juice; sticking to your skin uncomfortably like papermache. You could barely make out the sound of beating wings encroaching you from afar getting louder with each passing second that you had lead yourself to the conclusion that the ever so beautiful death had finally came to collect your soul and guiding you safely into the afterlife that you found yourself smiling, awaiting the inevitable fate that would come for all things.

Mathew and Lucienne were running across the sandy landscapes of the dreaming as they saw the silhouette of your limp body collapse in the distance which ignited something within them that something was horribly wrong. They had their suspicions when it took you longer then usual in retuning home to the dreaming and it was only made certain when they were close enough to see the bloodstained sand pooling beneath you. “MATHEW,” Lucienne cried to the raven, “GO ALERT LORD MORPHEUS!” The raven stared at her for a few seconds as though contemplating whether or not he’d make it in time before anything worse could befall you. “Now!” The librarian exclaimed causing the bird to squawk in surprise and fly with all his might back to the palace as she knelt by your side, slightly out of breath.

Worry consumed Lucienne as she gazed upon your content face and small smile, grasping your hand in her own as she felt around for a pulse; whilst simultaneously lowering her head so it was hovering over your slightly agape mouth that brushed puffs of warm air against her cheek just faintly enough to give her some reprieve on the severity of your situation. Your wounds weren’t anything to scoff at but it was safe to say that the dried blood made them appear more critical then they looked. Though that doesn’t negate the fact that you would be on bed rest for quite some time for proper recuperation. “Hang on y/n, please I promise you Morpheus is on his way.” Lucienne whispered when she finally felt out your weakening pulse, wishing she could do something to ease your pain or restore your health just long enough until morpheus arrived. Yet she couldn’t and in situations like these it was enough to make one doubt their abilities.

Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long as in a burst of sand Morpheus was standing next to her with Mathew perched on his shoulder looking down at your body with as much worry a raven could portray, “are they…” he trailed off not wanting to manifest an undeserving fate upon you within a realm where anything one could believe in coming true; Nor did he want to set the dream lord off into a enraged fit of denial as he glanced at how silent he had been the entire journey here it was almost unsettling. The moment the raven flew into the throne room, telling Morpheus everything a little too fast for the his liking but was quick to demand Mathew to take him back to you with the most deadliest gleam in his eyes that overpowered the worry and concern the endless felt within his soul.

“They’re still breathing my lord though it’s very faint…I don’t know how much time until….” Lucienne took control of the situation when quickly noticing the tell tell signs within Morpheus whenever he heard something he didn’t hold in such high favour, however this wasn’t time to adhere to his ego as your situation was the highest of priority to Lucienne and she wasn’t about to let your condition get worse if she could help it whilst also conveying the harsh truth that you may or may not have the highest of survival percentage the more they faffed about without taking action. “They’re in dire need of medical attention my lord we must act now.” Morpheus looked to her in understanding and knelt beside you, tucking an arm underneath your own to slip across to the middle of your shoulder blades as the other slipped under your legs. “They shall not die today if I have any say over it, not now not ever for I’ve lost so much of myself once before and I shall not relive those dark moments when I have the ability to save them.” The dream lord finally spoke as he lifted himself back to full height, holding you tightly against his chest before dispersing into nothingness; leaving Lucienne and Mathew to stare at where he stood before gazing at the blood stained sand where you once laid with a sense of melancholy within their eyes.

“They’re going to be alright, Morpheus promise so.” The librarian state though however it felt as though she was trying to convince herself that those words held indefinite truth behind them, that those words were law within the dreaming that you wouldn’t be dying here, wasting your last breaths here, suffering endlessly here. That you wouldn’t be withholding any regrets hereof all the things you could’ve possibly done before meeting your end. Mathew didn’t say anything as what could he possibly say that would make this situation any less dire then it was, so he chose to remain silent on their journey back to the palace where the pair hopes you were receiving the best medical attention known to dream kind. Praying to any deity that could be bothered to hear their silent prayers to save more time for you as they knew Morpheus would be lost within the endless expanse of the eternal darkness with you.

Morpheus could feel the change in the air as he sat upon the staircase of his throne room with his dark coat draped behind him like the spilt blood from your wounds that now coat his hands with dried cracks. The halls were filled with unwelcomed dread and fear that took the form of uncertain whispers that trailed their way to his ears like corporeal snakes. Your well-being was being question by everyone in the dreaming. Abel, Cain, Lucienne, Mathew, Goldie, dreams, nightmares and even Fiddler’s Green was questioning the chances of you ever brightening the palace ever again. He hated how easily it seemed that their fears slowly became his own; Morpheus felt that being fearful of your well-being was a sign of distrust he had in regards of your ability to fight and persevere through the hardships like you had done before.

However he denied himself of accepting the harsh possibility that he’d never see you again. His starlight, his happiness but most importantly his hope; he would rather be happier in denial then wallow in general pain of the fact of how equally cruel fate can be as it is kind. “My lord,” a healer of one of the many wards Morpheus carried your unconscious body to, stood within the throne room a little skittish, “they’re in stable condition but will be due for some indefinite bed rest until their wounds have completely healed.” The dream lord felt a sense of relief overcome him at the news but tried to not let it show in front of the healer; because after all he had the duty as king to uphold which meant he wasn’t allowed to show much of an emotional reaction when it came to those dearest to him. “Then I shall watch over them until then.” He said in a certain voice that silently challenged the healer to question it, tricking them into his trap.

“My lord it’s no issue for us to-“ “I appreciate all you’ve done for y/n but I can take over from here.” Morpheus interrupted, watching the healer form his throne afar as they squirmed like a mouse under a cats paw, struggling to break free. “Yes my lord, as you wish my lord.” They said sheepishly before dismissing them self from the throne room; allowing Morpheus to smile briefly at the aspect of being able to overlook your recuperation himself because if he was being honest; there was no one he’d personally have oversee your healing other then him and himself alone. It’s not that he distrusts his healers but it’s just the fact that he had grown so possessive over you in such a short period of time that the mere aspect of anyone else tending to your wounds other then him has his feathers ruffled. Was it not his place as your friend, confidant, lover and more to oversee your well-being? So without another moment wasted on flighting thoughts, Morpheus descended from the staircase and into the hallway that lead him to the medical wing of the palace.

You awoke later that day, body aching in nullified pain, a pain way more bearable then the one felt when laying in the sands of the dreaming; though now you were laying upon the soft comfort of a bed within the medical wing of Morpheus’s palace, tightly put back together with bandages and some healing magic. Speaking of the dream lord himself you found him looming at the foot of your bed like the blurred silhouette of a sleep paralysis demon, stone faced and all but you could look into his starry eyes and see every emotion within them from anger to distraught. “Morpheus? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing some kingly duties or have you had Lucienne run them for you?” You tried to joke but it died fast upon exiting your mouth as the dream lord only seemed insulted by your methods of coping a near death experience.

“You were bleeding out on the sands of my realm mere moments ago on the verge of my sisters doorstep, of course in going to prioritise you over my kingdom.” Morpheus’s words were bitter, sharp and cold like ice that you’d fear you’d worsen your situation if you were to touch it. You knew deep down that he only acted like this with people he genuinely cared about deeply; it’s happened before when Mathew almost got shot out of the sky by some poachers that were swiftly dealt with an never ending nightmare soon after by the dream lord himself. The trauma of loosing Jessamy still haunting him like that of a lingering ghost, a memory he didn’t wish to relive a second time with the fact that he has all his tools and powers back to full strength.

You didn’t blame his reaction, it was justified as he, Lucienne and Mathew were the ones to find you in such a horrific state that it deeply scared their minds whenever thinking of they were a millisecond too late. So you joking about it only came across that you didn’t take it as seriously as they did; which wasn’t true. You were petrified at the aspect of dying like all living things but knew that Morpheus would be within arms reach out you in a more comfortable state. “Alright, my bad I shouldn’t be joking about such things, I apologise but the question still stands, what about your duties?” Morpheus seemed to relax as he made his way to situate himself on the edge of your bed, holding onto your hand. “They can wait for as long as I desire because I wish to help you regain full health once more.” This time however his voice was like a caress or smooth, dark, velvety chocolate to your ears; his eyes flashed to the white plaster tightly taped against your arm before retreating back to his lap as though ashamed at himself for allowing you to be in this state in the first place when he was never at fault to begin with. “You don’t have to do that.” You whispered, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you shot him a comforting smile when he dared to look you in the eye. “After all it’s just a little wear and tear.” The dream lord groaned at your second attempt to liven the mood but couldn’t help but let a small smile slip, your unique characteristics never failing to be his weakness.

“I still wish to be by your side as you recover, if not for my own self reassurance but for yours that you will okay and that despite some permanent scaring you’ll still be as ethereal as the moment I met you.” You grew a little misty eyed at his confession, fearing that he may not view you the same now that you had several scars in visible places for all gandering and gossip obsessed eyes could bear witness. “If only you let me that is.” He added, a little uncertain as to your answer. You smiled at him, “of course I’d let you stay, after all you’ll be there to catch me if I fall, won’t you?” Morpheus squeezes your hand, “always my beloved.”

#the sandman fluff #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x you #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagines #dream of the endless x you #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fic #morpheus imagine #morpheus imagines #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader

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solitaryearthperson · 8 months

Text

Cross My Heart

Summary: Interrupting your dream, you wonder why Desire doesn’t want you around their brother.

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably a person of color.)

The dream you were having was quite nice. Well not exactly a dream-dream, but more like a peaceful and interesting conversation that you were having with Desire’s brother, Dream. You were sitting at a table in his library, drinking tea and discussing current events with Dream and Lucienne. You rarely ever got to visit and talk with your partner’s siblings, and the few times you did, it was mostly with Death and Despair. Any time Desire and Dream were in a room with each other for more than a minute it always turned ugly (usually because of your beautiful partner and their antics) so you tried to spend some time with Dream in a place where you knew that Desire would rarely ever want to visit, the Dreaming.

“You mortals have barely changed over the years,” Dream commented, amused at your stories.

“Nah, we haven’t,” you replied, chuckling, “I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen people dream of.”

“Mortals are quite...” he looked like he was trying not to laugh at the images coming to his head, “creative when it comes to your dreams. A very specific type of dreams.”

“On behalf of all mortals, I am so sorry for the things you’ve seen.”

He was about to reply when suddenly a shadow came over the library for a brief second and passed. When it did, Dream and Lucienne both shared a knowing look with each other, before turning to you, who was clueless.

“What was that?” You asked, looking up to the ceiling and to the windows, searching for where the shadow had come from.

“It’s time for you to wake up,” Lucienne answered.

“Okay, but what was that? That shadow just now?” you asked again, looking at them both.

They both shared the same look again and you wondered what it was that they were saying to each other.

“You must wake up, (Y/N),” Dream told you, standing up from his chair. He was about to turn and leave when suddenly the shadow came over the library again and passed quickly. When it left, he turned back to you and said politely, “We will see each other again, (Y/N). But now you must wake up.”

“Wait,” you said standing up from the table. “What’s that shadow? That’s never happened before when I needed to wake up.”

A sigh left Lucienne’s mouth at your insistence and she turned to Dream with a look that said that she wanted to answer you, but was not sure if she was allowed to.

“Well?”

The next sigh that you heard came from Dream before he finally answered, “It is Desire.”

“Desire,” you replied, wondering how the shadow was them.

“They know that we are talking to each other and wants your attention.”

Oh, D, you thought, rolling your eyes. You hoped you would be able to someday hang out with them, Dream, Death, and the rest of their siblings in the same room without any problems.

“I’m sorry,” you told them, feeling your body become light and your consciousness beginning to leave the Dreaming and going back to your body.

“It’s alright,” Dream told you, a small smile on his face and his voice echoing in your head as everything around you went dark.

“Hmmm,” you heard humming from behind you as you opened your eyes. Turning over you looked up to see your partner, Desire, sitting up against your headboard. They were humming while reading one of your books, their golden eyes running across the pages quickly. The sight was strange to see.

“You’re reading,” you pointed out, your voice slightly scratchy from sleep.

“Yes, I am,” they said, not taking their eyes off of the book.

“You read,” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow, glancing at the book to see it was one of your favorite graphic novels, Uzumaki.

“Yes, I do,” they replied, amused at your observation. “Did you think Dream was the only one of us who reads?”

“No, I just never seen you read before.”

“Mmm” was their reply as they turned a page. “I don’t see a reason to have some humongous library like my brother. But I do read. Mostly things made for beings like myself, but every now and then a book made by mortals would grab my attention.”

“Oh,” you said, pushing up from your elbow and sitting up against the headboard next to them, laying your head gently upon their shoulder. “You’re a hot nerd.”

“Shut up,” you heard them reply and glanced at their face to see them grinning. You looked down to see them turning the page to the part in the book where the doctor has sewn the mother’s stomach back up with her baby inside, the black and white image not scaring you the same way that it used to. “I truly don’t understand humans’ obsession with bodily horrors. Lust, anger, dreams, death, I get, but horror is strange.”

“I don’t get your obsession with keeping me from hanging out with a specific sibling of yours,” you told them.

At that they chuckled, but you could see that there was no amusement behind it. “It’s not an obsession. I just don’t like you around him too long.”

“Why,” you asked.

They were quiet for a little while, their eyes still looking down at your book, but you knew that they were no longer reading it. When they finally did speak, the usual teasing and playfulness in their voice was gone and was more serious, a rare thing for Desire to be.

“Dream thinks he’s better than me,...that he’s more important...”

You wanted to let them know that that wasn’t true, but you chose to let them continue.

“I don’t want him poisoning your poor mind about me or Despair.”

“Poisoning my mind,” you questioned.

You knew that Desire has done some unsavory things in the past. Particularly to their brother. Until now you never knew the reason why they loved to pick and argue with Dream, doing things just to get under his skin. At first you thought it was normal sibling rivalry, but the more you listened to what they’ve done, the more you wondered what the deal was between the two Endlesses were. Until now.

“Dream thinks he’s better than me,...that he’s more important...”

Why would they think that? The few times that you sat and talked with Dream, you never got the vibe that he thought he was better than Desire. Constantly pissed at them, yeah, but better? Never.

“I don’t want him poisoning your poor mind”

Why would they think he could “poison” my mind?

“D,” you said, catching their attention with your nickname for them.

They looked up from the book and turned to face you, and you could see that despite the always gorgeous, playful yet mysteriousness of their face, never truly showing what they were feeling, their eyes always gave their true emotions away and you could clearly see something you’d never thought you’d ever see in Desire’s eyes. Insecurity.

“I don’t know why you think that Dream thinks he’s better than you, but I promise you, Dream could never ever turn me against you. No one could.”

They let a smile grace their lips and quickly pressed their forehead against yours, your noses almost touching each other. “Do you really promise?”

“I do. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Smiling back at them, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon their lips, enjoying the feeling of being in their presence and having their body so close to yours. When you tried to pull away, in true Desire fashion, they leaned forward and chased your lips, turning the innocent, gentle kiss into something more sensual, but you didn’t care, knowing that you were going to keep your promise and never turn against them.

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littledollll · 1 year

Text

Sweetest of dreams

Morpheus x reader

A/n: just rly short and fluffy, can be read as little reader, sleepy r looking for cuddles and warmth

No warnings

Letting out a dramatic sigh you fell into bed- well onto him. Morpheus chuckled, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzled into his chest. “Are you alright, my darling?”

You let out a hum, pulling your self up to meet him face to face. You pouted your lips and he looked at you amused, “Kiss?" He complied, giving you a quick kiss on the very tip of your nose, making you giggle and hide into his neck.

“My shy little love, hm?”

Hugging around him tightly, you nodded. “My sweet dream.” He looked down at you, a smile grazing his face at your sweet remark.

He could feel your smile against his neck then how you wiggled around trying to find the perfect position for a nap, immediately stopping with a sigh when you deemed it perfect.

He gave you a little squeeze and you could feel every worry and all the tension in your body slipping away.

His hand came up to play with your hair, with that your eyes fluttered shut as you calmly slipped away into your very own dream land.

"Goodnight٫ my little star."

#the sandman #morpheus sandman #lord morpheus #the sandman fluff #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #cg! morpheus #cg! dream of the endless

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Note

hi :) hope you're doing good! can I request a morpheus x gender neutral reader where reader is feeling overwhelmed/stressed, hasn't slept properly in a while , so they haven't seen morpheus in a while and he's worried. he decides to go visit them, reassuring and comforting them until they sleep in their arms. thank you!! <3

Back to You

Dream of the Endless x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 727

Warnings- fluff, comfort, established relationship

Notes- Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like this! 💖

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog to follow and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

Morpheus was worried. It had been weeks since he’d seen you, and he knew it was unlike you.

It started as coincidence… or was it fate. You had made your way into the Dreaming… and Morpheus’ heart. Since the first night your paths crossed, he looked forward to seeing you every night, and what started as a companionship between two kindred souls soon blossomed into something more.

Every time Morpheus saw you was like the first time. His heart fluttered in his chest under the layers of black robes, and a hint of a smile lit up his face. He craved the warmth of holding you close, he craved the sight of your smile, he craved the way you hummed contently as he whispered soft sweet nothings in your ear until it was time for you to leave the Dreaming once more.

But it had been weeks since Morpheus saw your captivating eyes, your warm smile, your loving arms. And he was worried. So, he made the decision to leave the Dreaming and visit you in the real world… your world.

It was no trouble in finding your home. Being a supernatural being, Morpheus easily found you. But, it was also exactly the way you described it to him. From the doorway welcoming him into your world to the decor that you were so fond of, your home was just like that Morpheus pictured in his head. The only thing that did not fit the image was your slumped over form at your desk in the far corner of the room.

Morpheus breathed your name as he studied you with concern in his features. The light that illuminated your eyes and your aura was dimmed, and even from the distance Morpehus felt the weight that you carried in your heart. And when you jumped up with a gasp, he saw the puffiness under your eyes.

“Morpheus…” you sighed as you looked around the room in confusion, “Are… Are you really here? Or am I dreaming?”

He crossed the room and knelt so that he met your gaze as you sat in your chair, “I’m here my love,” his low voice brought a comfort as he cupped the side of your face with a feather-light touch, “I…” I was worried, “Are you alright?”

You lost yourself in Morpheus’ gaze for several moments before you looked over at the time. But the warmth of his touch soothed your restless mind, “I’m ok,” your voice was hushed, “I’ve just had a lot to deal with lately… I haven't been sleeping well.”

His brows furrowed, “Well we can’t have that now can we?” The quip in his voice was unexpected and it brought a genuine smile to your face, the first one in weeks, “Come, let me take care of you, my love.”

Fully trusting him, you let Morpheus take your hand and guide you to your feet and into your bedroom. Carefully, he stripped you of your outer layers of clothes to get you into bed, leaving the stresses of the day on the floor with your discarded clothing. Tenderly, Morpheus laid you onto your bed, and a wave of relief ran through him when you let out a contented sigh and fluttered your eyes shut.

He let out a mirroring breath as he chucked off his coat and laid down next to you. The whole world could wait; all Morpheus cared about was you. Besides, to him, you were his whole world. Morpheus wrapped his long arms around you and pulled you close so that you rested your head on his chest.

Morpheus held you close as he felt all the stress you held in your body melt away. It was as if by holding you tightly, he forced all the negativity out of you and all that was left was comfort and love. You were here, you were safe, you were ok. And you were his.

“Thank you, Morpheus,” you breathed as you nuzzled your head into him, “I lo…” you drifted off to sleep before you could finish your thought.

He smirked as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Sleep well, my love,” he whispered to your sleeping form, “I will see you in the Dreaming and you can tell me what you wanted to say,” Morpheus paused, “And I love you.”

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writethrough · 2 years

Text

How to Mistakenly Summon An Ancient Being & Keep Him

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You're an insomniac and have exhausted all other avenues to help you sleep except one. What happens when that one brings you the King of Dreams?

Warnings: Language (only one f*** was given), mutual pining, inability to sleep

Word Count: 3299

A/N: I'm super pumped to share this one! Though, I do think I could've upped the pining a bit more. Let me know what you think!

Nothing you tried worked. No amount of meditation, sleepy time tea, or melatonin kept you asleep. Your doctor had prescribed you sleeping pills, which worked for a few weeks, but the drowsiness and headaches made you stop taking them.

You had been scrolling through your social media when an ad for some spirituality website popped up. All the words were a blur except “help” and “sleep.” You clicked on it before you could think about viruses. That led you through site after site. Some hawked overpriced sleeping potions that sent up all of your red flags, and others touted crystals for pleasant dreams and to ward off nightmares, but it was a ritual that caught your attention.

It was simple enough. A few herbs you already had in your kitchen, a candle, and some sigils that took you much longer to draw than they should have. All you had to do was say the words at midnight and hope your prayer would be answered. The worst that could happen was already happening to you. It's not like you could get less sleep.

When the clock ticked to 12 AM, you lit the candle and recited the spell three times.

You waited. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for—heavy eyelids, relaxation, the inability to keep your head up. However, you never expected to hear a deep voice behind you.

“You humans never change," he growled. It was more than a glare he pinned you with; it was that of a beast, ready to devour.

—

It happened so quickly.

He and Lucienne were in the library, combing through books when he felt a tugging from the top of his spine. It brought him back to that day over a century ago. He couldn’t let that happen again.

“Lucienne!” he called as sand swirled around him.

“My lord?” Lucienne could only watch in horror.

Before either could do anything more, he had been transported into a bedroom. A woman sat facing away from him, and all of his anger honed in on her.

He would commit atrocities sooner than sit in another cage. And you were about to discover just how far he would go.

—

The man before you blended into the shadows cast by the moon. He seemed to encompass everything within the darkness, but you knew he couldn’t; he was just a man—one that appeared without explanation.

You steeled yourself. Slowly rising, never taking your eyes away.

“Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?” you asked, impressed that your voice came out relatively steady.

The man’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent. If anything, this angered you more than frightened you.

“You need to leave before I call the police,” you said. You would call the cops regardless, but he didn’t need to know.

This made his eyes narrow.

“You wish me to leave?” he asked as if he were trying to decipher the words.

“Yeah, people typically don’t like it when strange men just pop up in their bedroom,” you snapped. Why was he looking at you like you were the crazy one?

“You summoned me, human,” he said.

You straightened, taken off guard. “I summoned you? You're out of your mind. I did not summ—” Then it clicked. The ritual. Could that be what he was talking about? You pointed to the candle. “Is this what you mean?”

He nodded slowly. His posture seemed to relax a little.

You glanced between him and your tools.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “It was just supposed to help me fall asleep. Not bring me a…what exactly are you?”

He ignored your question for one of his own. “May I see the incantation?”

You grabbed your laptop from the floor and showed him the lines. After a moment of contemplation, he exhaled a deep, exhausted breath.

“Truly, did you not know this was to summon me?”

You shook your head. “I promise. I…I just wanted to sleep.”

How were you going to do that now? And what were you going to do about the man you supposedly summoned from who knows where?

“I can help with that,” he said. “This ritual may not be what you thought, but it will do as you wished.” He leveled you with his gaze. “My name is Morpheus. I am the King of Dreams.”

—

You were…different, he had decided. Neither good nor bad, just something other.

You said this was an accident and that you hadn’t expected the ritual to work. Morpheus saw the desperation in your eyes—the need for a solution to a problem out of your control. Perhaps it was that familiarity that made him want to help you.

And no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, there was an instinct that told him he could trust you.

—

You had just summoned the fucking Sandman. You weren’t sure if you wanted to praise or curse the off-the-wall website you found the ritual on. No, you wanted to finally have a continuous eight hours of rest.

“Okay, so how does this work?” you asked, maybe a tad too excited.

“Lie on the bed and close your eyes. This will only take a moment,” he said.

In any other situation, you would react very differently, but now that Morpheus seemed to have relaxed, you felt you could trust him. At the least, you could trust him to do as he claimed.

After taking your position, Morpheus stood over you, a small pouch in one hand as he poured it over into the other.

“Morpheus,” you said before he could continue.

He only glanced at you in response.

“I’m sorry,” you paused. “For making you come here against your will.” He was borderline hostile when he arrived, but when you explained everything, he calmed. There had to be a story there. “And thank you for this.”

His lips twitched in a blink-and-miss-it moment.

“Sweet dreams,” he said and sprinkled the sand into your eyes.

—

The next night, Morpheus waited for you in the Dreaming. After helping you fall asleep, he grew more curious about you. What caused your insomnia? How could a human be so honest? And what made him believe you in the first place?

Though time passed differently in the Dreaming, he knew when you should’ve been sleeping. When you didn’t come, he brushed it off as having missed you. Though that wasn’t possible.

The night after, you still had not shown. By the third night, he had a strange sense of concern. Were you alright? Have you not slept at all since you met? He was determined to find out.

It was nearly 7 PM when he knocked on your door. He thought it best not to repeat his initial arrival. His eyes narrowed when you answered, dark circles gracing your under eyes.

“Morpheus? What are you doing here?”

He slipped past you. “You have not been sleeping.”

“Not true. I slept for a few hours,” you said, sitting on your couch and indicating the space beside you.

“Not well,” he said, following. “You haven’t visited my realm.”

You stayed quiet, pulling your cardigan tighter around you.

“Why did you not call for me?” You had the means to; if you had not been sleeping, there was no reason for you not to summon him.

“That’s not fair to you,” you said. “And I wasn’t about to bother you again, especially because it seemed to affect you.”

He was silent. You took his feelings into account even though it was to your detriment.

You were not as selfish as other humans. It made him want to help you all the more.

“Think nothing of it.” He pulled out his pouch. “You must rest. Now, lie back for me.”

You nodded, evidently not having the energy to argue.

—

You waited to feel the gentle taps to your eyelids the sand made. When they didn’t come, you opened your eyes only to find yourself on a cobblestone path in a village. Stands were set up with various foods, craftsmanship, and jewelry. Some merchants were human, but others were humanoid with animal features. A few had skin swirled like galaxies or solid green or even wings. It was all so vibrant, so alive.

“Welcome to the Dreaming.” Morpheus stood next to you, carefully watching your reaction.

His realm. So, he had put you to sleep.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you spotted baby dragons, of all things, playing with young children.

You laughed in disbelief. “I’d tell you to pinch me, but I know I’m dreaming.”

A hand was placed on your back as he led you forward.

“There’s much to see,” he said.

A few creatures bowed to him as you passed. And it reminded you that he was indeed a king.

“How long have you been the King of Dreams,” you asked, slipping your hands into your pockets.

“Since the beginning of time,” he said.

You stopped, as did he, and you looked him over. You shook your head slightly before moving again.

“I’m not sure if I can even fathom that,” you said, a wave of naivety washing over you.

“Do not dwell on it. It’s best not to.” He paused. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.” You looked at him expectantly.

“How long have you had difficulty sleeping?”

You shrugged. “Feels longer than it actually is. It's like one day, my brain decided it would never turn off, not fully. I get some rest here and there, but the best sleep I’ve ever had was the night we met.”

He took a moment to think this over. What he said next shocked you.

“Then I shall put you to sleep every night."

Your eyes widened as your cheeks heated up. Did Morpheus not realize how that sounded? A being as old as time itself surely knew every way that could be taken.

“That’s-That’s really not necessary, Morpheus. I’m sure you have more important things to do than make sure I sleep.”

You thought he was going to ignore you. He seemed to do that whenever he believed it suited him. Instead, his eyes held a certain glint to them.

“You should not question the Lord of Nightmares. And in his own kingdom no less.”

Was he…teasing you? The flutter in your stomach made you believe it.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you mumbled. “I don’t want you to waste your time on me.”

You were so focused on your shoes that you missed the passing look on his face.

“Then it is fortunate I offered,” he said softly.

You met his gaze, ready to argue, but he stopped you.

“And only I may decide what is wasteful of my own time. You, (Y/N), can never be.”

—

Since that night, Morpheus had given you peaceful slumbers. Weeks passed, and his visits grew longer. He arrived when you prepared dinner. Though he didn’t often eat, he was keen to assist you in preparing it. You caught him taking a dish out of the oven once without mits. He was holding the pan before you could stop him, but his features showed no sign of pain. In domestic times like these, you forgot that he wasn’t human.

He stood chopping an onion while you combined ingredients in a bowl discussing your favorite films.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen it,” you said.

He tried to hide his smile as he slid the onions into the bowl.

“I do have a realm to oversee,” he said pointedly.

“Evidently.” You gestured to where he was, in your kitchen, clearly not in the Dreaming.

His eyes turned bright.

“Perhaps tonight you will finally meet one of my nightmares,” he said, voice dipping as if he was serious.

You tilted your head and pursed your lips in thought.

“No, I don’t think I will,” you said, setting the bowl aside.

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re too nice.” You had to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

He had always been kind to you. It wasn’t just him putting you to sleep. It was his thoughtfulness and how deeply he cared for his people.

Morpheus hadn’t told you everything that happened to him prior to your meeting, but you gathered enough to know it had nearly broken him. The fact that he let you in at all spoke volumes. You hoped he knew how much he meant to you.

You may only be human, but you’d protect him with your entire being.

He had captured your heart quickly, and you wished you weren’t obvious enough for him to see it.

—

Morpheus reread the page for the fourth time, and its contents still failed to penetrate. Last night he had been with you making dinner. Now, all he could think about was your smile, the way your eyes lit up, and how he wanted to hold you and keep you from every wretched thing you had encountered yesterday and since you’d met.

He closed the book and stood. You were working today, which meant you wouldn’t be home, which meant he couldn’t see you until dinner tonight.

It frustrated him. He would provide you with whatever you desired—you need only ask. It was old-fashioned, but he didn’t want to be away from you. The moment you told him he could leave, it was as if something pulled him toward you. You were special. You guided him through obstacles he thought he had overcome long ago.

You became his comfort, and he hoped he had become yours. And tonight, he would tell you as much, and hopefully, you would accept him.

—

You had just gotten home from possibly the longest day of your life. Every minor inconvenience had culminated in the pounding in your head. But it was finally over, and soon enough, you and Morpheus would be relaxing on the couch watching a show he should’ve seen by now.

Changing into something comfortable, you entered the kitchen to pull the dinner ingredients out when there was a tapping at your window.

Matthew waited, tilting his head in that raven way.

“Hey, Matthew,” you said, letting him in.

He flew to the back of your armchair after swooping to scoop a mouthful of gummy worms you kept in a bowl just for him. The perks of being a magical raven.

“Hey (Y/N),” he said around his food. He continued after swallowing. “The boss is running late, but he’ll be here soon.”

You nodded. Sometimes this happened. Though Morpheus’ definition of late usually meant twenty minutes or so.

“His work is much more important than cutting vegetables,” you said, taking a seat.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you saw the look on his face,” he said. “He looked ready to cry or smite someone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Those seem like two very opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“Not when he does it. I’m talking this full constipated gloss over his face,” Matthew said.

You let out a laugh. “Still, I can believe the smiting, but the crying? Never. Especially not over something as silly as helping me with dinner.”

“Are you kidding? He doesn’t say it, but that’s the highlight of his day! There’s always this pep in his step when he’s about to come here.” He paused. “Well, about as much pep as you can imagine him giving.”

You blushed. Was Morpheus really that excited about something so small?

Matthew had gone down a bit of a ramble, but the last thing he said snatched your attention.

“...I mean, he’s basically in love with you, so it’s no surprise.”

“Who’s in love with me?”

“Dream,” Matthew said as if you hadn’t been listening.

“No, he’s not.” You shook your head.

“Yeah, he is.”

“On what planet would an Endless love me of all people?” He was lying. He had to be. There was no way Morpheus returned your feelings.

“This one!” Matthew said, exasperated.

You weren’t sure if you could breathe or not. It felt like you were, but why couldn’t you inhale completely?

“Are you being serious?” you asked, trying to hide the hope in your voice.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this,” he said softly.

You nodded. “Okay, so what do I do now?”

There was a familiar knock on your door. You both looked toward it.

“Do what’s gonna make you happy,” he said, then left out from where he came.

—

Okay, you could do this. It was just Morpheus. Standing outside your place, waiting for you to let him in after you found out he apparently loved you. Do you pretend not to know? Should you come out with it? You loved Matthew, but shit, you wished he didn’t talk so much.

First things first, you had to open the door.

“Morpheus.” You smiled, hopefully not too big.

“Hello (Y/N),” he said, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind him. “For you.”

You gave him a soft smile. “What’s the occasion?”

He seemed to hesitate a moment. “I simply wanted to.”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” You turned to the kitchen to search for a vase, hiding your widening smile.

“I sent Matthew earlier. Is he not here?” Morpheus asked, having followed you.

“Just left.” Do what’s gonna make you happy. “He actually told me something he probably shouldn’t have.”

“And that is?” He waited patiently but sensed your reluctance. “Unless I should be kept in the dark as well.”

“No,” you breathed. “No, it was kind of about you.”

He regarded you carefully. “...Has whatever he told you made you uncomfortable in my presence?”

Your eyes widened. “No! Never.” You supposed the only way to say this was to just come out with it. “He told me that you…well, he told me that you love me.”

“Oh.”

He had clearly not expected that response. And you wondered if he had ever told Matthew about his feelings or if the bird was only guessing.

“It’s true,” he said. “That’s the occasion.”

“Occasion?”

“The flowers. I was going to tell you tonight,” he said.

A thought occurred to you, and the corner of your mouth turned up.

“Then tell me,” you said, taking a step closer.

Morpheus seemed to be taken aback but recovered just as quickly. His jaw clenched, and he met your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered. “It grows with each passing day.”

You found one of his hands with yours. His touch kept you grounded. You needed that with how it felt like you’d float away any second.

“I love you, too.” You beamed, happier than you had ever been.

His eyes were soft, and they became the slightest bit hooded.

“May I kiss you?”

Your response was to lift your chin and capture his lips with yours.

It was like you were on fire. And yet your heart somehow calmed.

This was right—his hands on your waist, yours resting on his chest. Each press of his lips reinforced everything since you met. Trust, safety, comfort, and now love.

You had to be the one to pull away for breath.

His thumb grazed your cheek as he examined your features.

How was it possible for someone to be so captivating?

You wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“Not even in my wildest dreams did I think you would love me,” you said, ecstatic that you were wrong.

He hummed. “It’s fortunate that I create dreams then.”

You pulled away enough to look at him. “Very fortunate.”

He leaned down for another kiss, a slow, deep peck. It burned all the way to your toes.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled you closer, intent on showing you.

#the sandman #the sandman fluff #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #morpheus fluff #morpheus x y/n #Morpheus x you #dream of the endless #dream x y/n #dream x reader #dream x you #dream fluff #mutual pining

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bisexualunicronrunningloose · 1 year

Text

Almost kisses and a stolen kiss

4 times Dream almost kissed y/n and the one time he did

Word Count: 3,732

Warnings: Pure fluff, Dream being Dream, Dream and reader are both idiots, Dream be is an ass in part 4 (but we love him 😂)

In the Garden - Dream POV

“I thought I might find you here. You know I can grow those just with a thought and a swish of my hand right?” Dream said as he walked toward y/n tending to some flowers.

“I know. But where is the fun in that? Plus I like how calming it is” she said standing up and brushing the dirt off her hands onto her trousers. “Also this way I feel like I’ve left my mark here when I’m not visiting.” She smiled up at him.

“You are one strange being. How did you manage to get dirt on your nose?” He spoke walking towards her. How was it possible she looked so beautiful without even trying? She was one of the most caring people he had ever met. And when she came for a visit to the Dreaming his day was always better.

“I got dirt on my nose? Haha that must have happened when I sneezed earlier” she tried to rub it off with her hands, but she only made it worse. “Did I get it?” She had such a bright smile that reached her eyes. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Not in the slightest. You are only making it worse. Here let me.” He walked towards her and retrieved a tissue from his pocket and wiped the dirt off her nose. He looked down at her. He was leaning in toward her hand now resting on the side of her face when Jessemay came swooping in calling out.

“Sir, sorry to bother you but Luciene needs you for something” called the Raven as she landed on Dream’s shoulder. Dream held back a sigh and stepped away from her.

“Go, we can catch up later” she smiled giving him a little nudge in the shoulder.

“I will see you soon then” he spoke in a soft voice before turning around and heading back to the palace.

In the Library - Y/N POV

You were walking down one of the long aisles of books in the library. You ran your fingers along the spines of the books looking at the titles. The books along this aisle were poetry books and play scripts, smiling at the titles that you recognised. You suddenly felt a shift in the air behind you and you smiled. You turned around to find Dream standing behind you, arms crossed behind is back with a fraction of a smile ghost across his lips.

“It’s getting harder to sneak up on you” he spoke walking closer to you, looking at the books on the shelf your hand was resting on.

“Well maybe you just need to try a little harder” you joked leaning against the book shelf with your shoulder looking up at him.

“Maybe. Or maybe I don’t want to” he spoke softly and picking a small book of the shelf just above your head. He was leaning forward. So he was leaning over you. He pulled a way just as quickly once had the book.

“Have you read this one?” He asked revealing the title. ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ one of Shakespeare’s comedies. You had read it, countless of times

“I have. It’s probably one of my favourites of his” you reply

“You know. I met the Bard before he became the Bard. When I met him he went by a different name” he responded flipping through the small book.

“You did? When was that?” You ask moving away from the bookshelf and walking towards Dream who had taken a few steps back.

“I met him on one of my earlier visits with Hob Gadling. I over heard him talking about how he wanted to be a famous playwright. I spoke with him and granted him his wish” he spoke handing your the small book.

“You mean to tell me you are the reason the world got William Shakespeare? You really do have soft spot for the arts and artists” you replied, after all this time of visiting the Dreaming and your conversations with Dream he was still able to surprise you.

“Artist, writers and musicians… they are all dreamers. And I as King of Dreams do like to keep an eye on them and see if they need some motivation” he replied. He closed the gap between the the two of you. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear and looked into your eyes.

“Dream… I…” you spoke softly

Lucienne came around the corner.

“My lord, Merv is here and he has a few things to report… oh..” she spoke. Dream pulled away in an instant his facial expression changing just as quickly.

“Of course. I asked him to check something for me” he gave you a slight nod and he followed Lucienne to go and speak to Merv. You watched as he turned around the corner. You let out a breath you that you had been holding. What was that… was Dream about to … no he wasn’t…. was he?

In Fiddler Green’s - Dream POV

Dream found her lying in the grass looking up at the sky and the clouds. He was perplexed at how she could just lie there and not do anything.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he stood next her looking down.

“Watching the clouds. What does it looking like I’m doing. Come join me for a bit.” She spoke looking up at him.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea” he spoke.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you can’t take just one afternoon or a few hours off from your duties of Lord of Dreams and Nightmares” she sat up a little resting on her elbows. “Please, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Just take a look at what you’ve created” she begged. Her eyes were so sweet and kind. He couldn’t say no to her.

“Maybe a few minutes” he sat down next to her and smiled

“How are you going to watch the clouds if you don’t lie down and look up at them” she lay back down pulling him with her.

“So you just lie here and look at the coulds? Why?” He asked settling down next to her. Looking up at the clouds

“It’s calming plus sometimes they actually look like shapes. Like that one there almost looks like Merv’s head. And that one looks like a raven feather.” She said pointing out at the clouds as they slowly floated by. He turned his head to look at her and she had the widest smile on her face. That gave him an idea, he turned his attention back to the clouds, there was one that was just a big blob and with a small thought he turned it into a sheep.

“Hey that one looks like a little sheep” she spoke with a giggle. He turned his attention to the next cloud and turned it into a four leaf clover.

“That one looks exactly like a four leaf clover. Wait … are you doing this?” She turned to look at him.

“What is that not allowed?” He said turning his face to look at her.

“No, you are supposed to use your imagination to try and figure what the look like” she laughed nudging him with her shoulder

“Well I was! I was using my imagination to make the clouds” he nudged her back. “Are you mad?” He asked in a serious tone

“I could never be mad at you. It’s sweet and kind. Thank you” she replied turning on her side to face him better and resting her chin in her hand and looked into his eyes.

He leaned up and forward to meet her eye level. And looked right into her eyes. “I’d do anything to make you smile. I don’t think I could ever take you being mad at me.” He spoke softly his eyes looked down at her lips for the briefest second then he sat up and slowly stood up. He reached his hand down to help her stand up.

“I better be off now. Lots of dreamers to attend to. Do you need help getting up?” He asked

“No I’m ok. I think I’ll stay here for a little while. I’ll see you later” she smiled lying back and looking back at the clouds. He looked up the clouds one last time and created a cloud that looked like a dog. He heard her laugh out loud as he was walked away. Her laugh was so infectious and couldn’t help chuckle to himself as he left her lying in the grass.

By his throne - Y/N POV

You walked into his main hall looking for Dream. You hadn’t seen him in a while and missed the little chats you had. You found him sitting on his throne talking to Merv. Your footsteps echoed in the vast hall giving away your arrival, catching the attention of both of them.

“Y/n! Long time no see.” Merv greeted you as he hopped down the stairs and gave you a hug.

“Good to see you too Merv. How have you been?”

“Oh you know. Can’t complain, I’ve been good. Busy but I like to keep busy. How have you been?” Merv asked

“I’ve been good. I’ve spent some time in the Waking world. I feel they are the brink of of success or chaos. I fear it is leaning more towards chaos. So I thought I would swing by a visit to see some old friends” you smiled

“Well I sure hope they don’t cause any chaos. Anyway I better be off lots to do” He turned and did a quick bow to Dream and he headed out the main hall.

Dream was still sitting on his throne looking down at you. You felt a small shiver run down your spine, his gaze was so piercing and held so much emotion in them. Even after all this time you still were unable to read him.

“It’s been a while since your last visit” he spoke from where he sat.

“I know. Like I told Merv, I’ve been busy watching the mortals. Don’t tell me you actually missed me” you spoke as you slowly made your way up the stairs, stopping halfway up to his throne. You didn’t want to venture to far up, you knew how he was about people approaching his throne without asking.

His eyebrows raised slightly at your last comment. “Merv clearly did. Lucienne also did along with some the other dreams. Your little garden did as well. Don’t worry I made sure none of your plants suffered.” He spoke as he stood up and made his way down the stairs and stopped a few above you. He looked down at you with those deep eyes that never gave anything away.

“You know you didn’t actually answer my question” you teased

“I didn’t hear a question in your statement” he responded in low tone taking a step closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Did you miss me?” You asked looking up at him.

“Your absence was noted.” He responded taking one more step down so he was one the step above you. You didn’t know what you were expecting from his answer but his answer upset you a little. You took a couple of deep breaths.

“How have been Dream? You create any new dreams or nightmares lately?” You asked trying to move past your slight disappointment.

“There is a dream I have been creating… but it is not ready to be seen by anyone yet.” He responded never taking his eyes off you. You could have sworn his eyes darted to your lips for the briefest second.

“Oh come on Dream. You always used to show me what you were working on.” You teased

“Not this time. It’s not ready” he responded in a sharp tone.

“Aww come on. Can’t you give me a hint at least. Your creations are always so beautiful” you begged.

“No” he spoke his tone almost scaring you. You furrowed your eyebrows he had never spoken to you like that before.

“What has your cloak in a twist today Dream” you joked nudging his arm slightly. The second you did that you knew it had been a mistake. The temperature in the room plummeted and his eyes turned dark.

“I said NO. I would appreciate it if you dropped the subject. Why do you feel the need to push into others business.” He spoke in a cold voice taking a step down to look at you face to face. You took a step down to get away from his cold presence.

“I apologise Dream. I’ll drop it…” you tried to keep your voice calm.

“It is not just about my creations!” His voice boomed “You visit my realm whenever you see fit! You drop in whenever unannounced and without invitation.” He kept taking steps towards you and you kept taking steps backwards. He was growing taller and his face had grown dark. This was the nightmare side of him. The side he reserved when creating nightmares and visiting peoples nightmares, you had never seen it before and you were terrified.

“Dream… you’re scaring me” you spoke

“I am Lord Morpheus and you will address me as such! And you will never come back to my realm. Do you understand?” His voice boomed off the walls.

“You want me to leave and never come back? Fine” you spun around and began to walk out of the hall you stopped halfway and spun back around. “It was a pleasure visiting your realm Lord Morpheus. If it is not to much trouble could you say my goodbyes to the dreams and Luciene for me. I wish nothing but happiness for you Lord Morpheus. I apologise again for my over stepping” you bowed to him and turned back and walked out. You tried your hardest not to cry until you had left the palace and out of earshot of Dream. You made it across the bridge and out of the main gates before you broke down in tears.

Watching the Night Sky - Dream POV

He had finally gotten all his tools back, the dreams and nightmares were back in the Dreaming, rebuilt the Dreaming and had taken care of the Vortex. Now his next stop was to find y/n and see if she would accept his apology. He had been cruel to her last they spoke. He wouldn’t blame her if she completely ignored him or yelled at him. Lucienne had agreed to help him track her down mainly because Lucienne was pissed at him when she found out he had basically thrown her out of the Dreaming. They found her in the Waking world and now he was going to apologise for everything.

He found her sitting on top of a large pile of boulders looking up at the stars. He slowly walked up to her and made his way up the pile. He stood on the boulder next her and looked down at her not knowing what to say.

“You still need to work on the sneaking up on me Lord Morpheus. Though it has been a little over 100 years so I’ll leave this attempt up to lack of practice. ” she spoke in a cool tone not taking her eyes off the sky.

“Lord Morpheus? Not Dream?” He spoke quietly

A shooting star crossed the sky. “Did you know mortals make wishes on shooting stars? Last time we spoke you made it pretty clear I should address you as such” she spat still not meeting his gaze watching the star cross the sky.

“And I have come to apologise for my behaviour… I acted unfairly…” he began but she cut him off.

“Apologise? The King of Dreams and Nightmares has come to apologise for his behaviour.” She turned to look at him as she spoke. Her face dropped when she turned to him. “What has … what happened to you? Not to speak out of turn and risking your anger again … but you look awful, like you haven’t slept in years” she asked with a nervous look in her eyes.

“Not long after we last spoke, when I told you leave my realm. One of my nightmares, the Corinthian left my realm and refused to come back. I went to the Waking world to bring him back and I was captured by a mortal who saw him self as a sorcerer of sorts. He stole my symbols of power and said he would free me when I gave him what he wanted. He held me captive and when he died his son still held me captive” he replied. As he spoke she slowly stood up and fully faced him. She slowly lifted her hand and reached up to his face and placed in on his cheek.

“How long did they hold you?” She asked looking into his eyes. He leaned into her touch breathing in a deep breath and taking comfort in the small contact.

“100 years, I was kept in that glass sphere for 100 years” he replied.

“How did you get away?” She asked looking at him in his eyes, but turned his head and looked away from her.

“Paul the husband of the sorcerer’s son, he wiped away part of the rune circle that was on the floor. I think he might have done so on purpose. It was enough to allow me to escape.” He said looking at the stars. “Do you wish for anything when you see a shooting star” turning back to face her.

“I do, but don’t ask what because I can’t tell you. Then the wish wouldn’t come true” she answered with a slight twinkle in her eyes. “Now that your free what are your plans? I assume you would want to get your symbols back and return to the Dreaming.” She said turning her attention back to the sky, she sounded a little sad.

“For 100 years the only thing that kept me from losing my mind was my goal to get my symbols of power and finding you and doing three things. I would have sooner after getting my symbols of power but I had to take care of The Vortex and begin to rebuild the Dreaming.” He said never taking his eyes off her profile

“There was a Vortex?” She spun back around. “And now you’ve dealt with that you’ve come to find me and apologise?” She asked sounding a little skeptical.

“I realise that the way I spoke to you last was cruel. You only wanted to know what I was creating. And banning you from the Dreaming was harsh of me. I know how much you loved … love visiting my realm” he spoke

“And I apologise for always stopping by with out asking” she cut in

“Still, I never should have lashed out. I never said anything about it. The truth is I always loved your visits and my day was always better when you would visit.” He took a deep breath “I’ve learned that apologising to friends is important, though I’m still learning on how to. So, I would like to apologise for my behaviour and banning you from the Dreaming. I would also like to tell you that you are more than welcome to come to my realm whenever you like, no need to ask before visiting” he spoke looking into her eyes that were shining with tears.

“For someone who is just learning how to apologise that was a really good one. Also that’s only two things. What’s the third?” She asked

“Always the observant one aren’t you?“ he spoke stepping onto the boulder she was on cupping her face in both his hands and leaning down brushing his nose over hers before placing a light kiss on her lips. He be began to pull away to look into her eyes to judge her reaction. But before he could she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back in and kissing him back. He moved one of his hands on the back of her head and moved the other to wrap around her waist pulling her in closer to him. He pushed his tongue against her lips she sighed and opened her lips allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth. She responded by chuckling lightly against his lips.

He pulled away and furrowed his eyebrows together. “What’s so funny?”

“You know how I said telling what you wish for on a shooting star is bad luck? Well there are three that I would rotate through. The first one, you would realise what an asshole you were and apologise” she said placing a light kiss on his left check. “Two you would let me come back to the Dreaming” placing a second kiss on his right check.

“And the third?” He asked

“You would stop being an idiot and finally kiss me” she placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled her in close to him and returned the kiss happily. She moved one of her hands into his hair gently tugged at it and he let out a moan against her lips. He gently turned her head to the side with his hand kissed her along her jaw and then her neck. He kissed her in the same spot and sucked on there leaving a small mark on her neck. She let out a sigh and shivered a little “Dream…”

“Hmm yes.” He said with head still against her neck. “Are you cold?” He said pulling away looking down at her.

“A … a little. Yeah” she shivered.

He wrapped her up in his long coat bringing her into his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzling her head against his chest.

“Better?” He asked with a light chuckle

“Umm hmm, better” she replied giving him a little squeeze

“What you say about heading back to the Dreaming?” He asked looking down at her

“I would love that” she replied

He gave her a kiss on her forehead and took some sand out of his bag and threw it in the air. And it spun around them in a swirl and he held her close as they traveled back to his realm.

#the sandman #dream #morpheus #the sandman x reader #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #fluff #dream is dream #the sandman fluff

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

wasteland, baby! ; morpheus.

track fourteen of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; morpheus x bast!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; morpheus followed you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal.

words ; 6.3k

themes ; angst, fluff, egyptian mythology, bast au

warnings / includes ; reader is based on the egyptian goddess bastet, starts before the events of the show but ends right at the beginning, heavy angst, death of an unborn baby (not reader's), blood/injury/pregnancy (again, not reader), allusions to sex, mentions of the other sandman characters, mentions of other egyptian gods, khonshu is your half-brother, dream is the epitome of (-_-), they love each other lots <3 perhaps i'll write a part two to this !!

main masterlist.

She was dying.

There was raw terror within her eyes—uncertain of what was happening to her. She was young—far too young to die, but it seemed that Destiny had other plans for her beyond life.

With gentle movements, you shifted into view, greeting her with a soft beam and kind eyes.

“Do not be afraid. I’ll protect you,” you whispered in their plucking human language. One of your hands extended towards hers, slick with her own blood. “It’s time, darling.”

The faded blue of her eyes warbled. A hot tear meandered down her grimy cheek.

“Can I say goodbye? I… my children…” The words caught in her throat upon seeing your apologetic expression. With a resolute nod, she took your hand, and you helped her spirit onto her feet.

Once she was up, she glanced at her physical body on the ground. “Can you keep my children away from the body? I don’t… I don’t want them to see me like that.”

A protest was on the tip of your tongue, but upon seeing her pleading expression, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Your expression faltered, softening. “I’ll do what I can,” you reassured her, offering a small smile.

And as you guided the petrified woman’s spirit across the threshold between the realm of the living and the Sunless Lands, you let go of her hand, and she began walking into the next part of her journey. You observed for a minute longer, brow creased with worry. That had always been a weakness of yours—you cared too much for the mortals and often found yourself attached. Though, perhaps, affection was not a weakness, but a defining trait of who you were. It was what made you their protector, after all.

The feeling of an unfamiliar presence appearing beside you jarred you out of your thoughts. You turned to see one of Death’s siblings staring straight at you, eyes boring into your very soul.

“What are you doing?” he asked, rather bluntly. His voice was deep and honeyed, soaked in sea water and nestled within the richest of soils. You found yourself blanching at his sudden question, unsure if you’d done something to offend him. He certainly looked offended. Or perhaps that was just the way he always was. “This is Death’s job,” said Dream.

After a considerably long pause, you tilted your head at him. “Death is busy at the moment. I am merely helping her guide souls into the afterlife. I’m a God to them—a protector—the humans, they call me Bast. But my friends call me Y/N.”

Morpheus’ expression remained ever unchanging. He dipped his head, suddenly all the closer to you. You blinked at him with wide eyes—eyes that Morpheus refused to meet. Stoic, he spoke once more, “Do you know where my older sister is?”

“She’s dealing with affairs in Hell. Lucifer has stirred up quite a bit of trouble, I’ve heard,” you told him, pursing your lips at the thought of the devil wreaking havoc in the underworld. “What do you need her for? Perhaps I could help—?”

With naught a sound, Dream brandished a pouch from his dark, draping coat, and disappeared in a flurry of sand and dust. You stepped away with a grimace, waving the particulates away from your face.

“Rude,” you huffed as you brushed sand off your shoulder.

She was hurt.

There was a long, jagged gash splitting her shin open. A pool of dark ichor formed around her leg and soaked into the hardened earth. You stood over her, your chest constricting.

She couldn’t see you, but you knelt down beside her anyways, murmuring a protective incantation, gently running your fingers over her wound. A soft golden glow appeared over the cut, before slowly disappearing. The injury wasn’t completely healed, but you’d made sure it wouldn’t get infected by warding away any diseases and bacteria.

The woman wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and found a cloth to bind the gash shut.

You tilted your head, smiling down at her, before stepping away.

This time, the presence of the Dream Lord wasn’t as much of a shock to you, but still a surprise nonetheless.

“Dream,” you greeted, eyes brightening when you turned to see him. He looked just the same, though not nearly as sour as last time. “What brings you here?”

“The girl you were helping,” he said, slow and cautious, “she’s been dreaming of you.”

Warmth seeped through your form at his words. A grin etched itself beautifully across your lips. “I’ve been watching over her since she was a young child. Her name is Nubia—gold in their language. She saved a family of kittens from drowning in a river when she was merely nine years of age. And me being a God of cats and all—she’s earned herself a special place in my heart. I don’t often show myself to mortals, but I have with her, on occasion.”

Morpheus regarded you with a shielded expression, but it was evident that he was curious in you and your endeavors.

“What do I do in her dreams?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Morpheus seemed unbothered by this, slowly tilting his head to sweep his gaze anywhere but you.

Perhaps it was a trick of the hot Egyptian sunlight, but you could’ve sworn the beginnings of a smile traced over the corner of Morpheus’ mouth. “You do the very same in her dreams as you do in the living world. You help people. You are kind to them.”

Stunned, you let your eyes travel back to the sweet girl you’ve grown so fond of, who was rinsing the blood away from her leg.

“Why?” asked the Dream Lord. It was a tentative question, so simple yet would never have a clear answer.

You glanced back to him, finding his piercing blue irises fixed on you, hardened and stormy as the sea.

“Why what?” you replied, knowing full and well what he was asking, but wanting to goad him on. You rather enjoyed speaking to him. He was a mystery to you—and you loved mysteries.

Dream was silent for a long moment. It had you briefly wondering if he’d just chosen to completely ignore your retaliating question.

Finally, he asked his in return, voice thick and viscous, as if his throat were laced with honey. “Why do you show the mortals such kindness?”

“Because I love them,” you told him simply, an elegant smile gracing your features. “They are beautiful beings, and I wish them nothing but happiness and peace. It brings me joy to be their protector.”

Morpheus didn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you said. How could one as eternal and powerful as you love such simple and fleeting life? Despite his evident turmoil, he remained silent.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you said, brushing past him with a hand on his shoulder. Morpheus stiffened beneath your touch, and you were quick to draw yourself away from him, not wanting to anger one of the Endless. Desire had once gotten angry with you centuries ago, and that hadn’t gone down well. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of such events. “I have other duties to attend to. I hope to see you again, Dream.”

Morpheus dipped his head in farewell. From your peripheral vision, you saw him disappear in another whirl of sand. You shook your head in amusement, before heading off to help another precious soul in need.

She was heartbroken.

There were scalding tears dripping down her sunken cheeks, following the curve of her jaw, and falling from her chin onto her blanket. Sobs wracked her skeletal form, and there was a pallid color to her skin, as if completely drained of energy. You watched from beside her bed, feeling thorns crowd about your heart at the sight. You sensed great despair rolling off of her in large tidal waves, nearly overwhelming you into the same feeling.

Morpheus was there, you knew, but you had yet to speak to him. He’d been following you for a while, silent as the night, merely watching as you went about your day helping women, children, and people alike. It seemed that he’d taken a keen interest in you and your duties as a protector of the mortals.

“This is the doing of a man,” you said to him without turning around, anger clouding your expression. “She professed her love to him and he did nothing but scoff. He scoffed at her, Dream. I mean, look at her—she’s beautiful and she’s kind and she’s so very intelligent. Men certainly are the bane of my existence.”

When you finally turned your head, you were surprised to see Morpheus right beside you, not having registered him stepping closer.

He had his eyes trained on the weeping woman. “She is tired,” he observed calmly.

A soft sigh fell from your lips. “She hasn’t slept a wink in three days. The poor thing has been doing nothing but lament over this buffoon of a man. I’ve tried consoling her in many ways, but her grief is strong. She loved him very much—though I can’t quite understand why.”

“Perhaps,” said Morpheus, pulling out a pouch that you were now well acquainted with, “all she needs is a bit of rest. Three days is far too long for a mortal to go without slumber.”

With that, he blew a fistful of sand into the crying woman’s face, and her raucous sobs began to subside, and eventually slowed down to deep, rhythmic breathing.

You looked to the Dream Lord, a grateful smile to your eyes. “Thank you.” As ever, he stared ahead and nodded, avoiding looking at you.

With fleeting, soft touches, you gently shifted the woman so she wasn’t curled in an awkward position and wouldn’t wake up with aches all over. You laid her back against the bed’s springy mattress and adjusted her head onto the feather pillow. The pads of your thumbs gently wiped her tears away, and you murmured a quiet protective enchantment to keep her safe through the night.

“Come along now,” you told Morpheus, getting up and striding out the door.

He looked at you, finally, mild confusion painting over his features.

“You’ve been following me all day,” you said, a laugh caught in the back of your throat. “I have much to show you.”

There was a twitch to his jaw, as if he wanted to say something. But still, he remained mute, before striding forward to join you by your side.

She was sick.

There was an unusual murmur to her heart, disrupting an otherwise perfect beat. It broke your own to realize that Death would be coming to visit her soon. You could only hope that the journey to the Sunless Lands would be kind to her.

With little else you could do for the beautiful, sickly girl, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a stray, wiry curl of hair away from her face, softened with sleep. Your kiss made her stop twitching and sweating so badly, and you were glad you could lessen her suffering in some way, even if it was minute.

You weren’t at all shocked to see Morpheus behind you when you turned, and you crossed your arms with a teasing grin. It’d been several decades—nearly a century—of constant visits from him, and you weren’t ashamed to say that you’d grown very fond of him.

“Why, if it isn’t Dream of the Endless,” you greeted, taking a step closer to him, so that he was forced to look at you, and no longer avoid eye contact. The blue of his irises seemed even sharper up close. “Is there something you need this time, or are you here to follow me again?”

There was a crack to his stoic facade, a small smile whittling into his expression. A thrill spidered up your spine.

“I’m intrigued by you,” he finally professed, albeit still guarded and wary, even after all this time.

Much to his surprise, you reacted fairly lightly to his statement, throwing your head back as peals of laughter fell from your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Dream of the Endless, intrigued in me? It’s truly an honor,” you said, slightly breathless. Morpheus carefully watched the way you beamed so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.

Dream hesitated for a moment before saying his next words. “Come with me.”

You faltered for a moment. “What? Where?”

“The Dreaming,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.

You blinked at him owlishly. “Your kingdom?”

“Yes,” he said, already drawing out his pouch of sand. “I’ve seen what you do on Earth. Now I want you to see what I do in my realm.”

“They’re beautiful,” you said, watching in awe as Morpheus fashioned dreams and nightmares out of thin air, brow creased ever so slightly in concentration. Bits of earth and bone and something far more ethereal floated around him as he assembled the pieces—creating an entirely new being.

Dipping his head graciously, Morpheus stepped away from his craft, still in progress.

“Come,” he said, without a glance to you. “I shall finish this later. I have much else to show you.”

He took you to see the House of Mystery, also known as Cain’s home. There was a sweet gargoyle there—Gregory, his name was, and he seemed rather fond of you, constantly nipping at your ankles and grunting in delight when you tossed a ball over for him to catch. Morpheus watched from afar, with only but a shadow of a fond smile gracing his face. He took you to the House of Secrets as well, and introduced you to Abel, who was ever so kind and refused to allow you to leave without drinking a fruity, nectarous tea first.

The two of you strolled through the Dreaming for a while after that, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. More accurately, you’d be the one animatedly telling stories and Dream would listen with a fond glint to his gaze. Dreams and nightmares alike stared at the two of you, partially because they’d rarely ever seen their King out and about, much less with somebody, and also because they were merely curious to know who you were.

After, he brought you to the library and introduced you to Lucienne and Mervyn—the former a spectacled librarian and the latter a pumpkin-headed janitor with a cigar wedged within his mouth, who both seemed pleasantly surprised to see Morpheus bring in a guest.

“There will be a celebration in the Dreaming tonight,” said Dream, quiet and contemplative. Then, he looked at you, and this time, you were sure it wasn’t a trick of light—he smiled at you. It was small and fleeting, but you’d caught it nonetheless. “Seeing as Y/N is a God of celebration, joy, fire, and music—have all those ready for our guest, Mervyn.”

“Yessir,” the pumpkin coughed out a plume of smoke, before saluting with two gloved fingers, and strode away with his hands shoved into his overalls.

Once Mervyn left in a hurry, you turned to Morpheus, eyes wide. “Dream, really, you don’t have to throw a party or anything for me, you’ve been more than kind enough—”

“I am merely repaying you for all you’ve done for mankind,” said the Endless, which made you step back just a bit in shock. “I must deal with some private matters—feel free to stay as long as you want—you are now a welcome guest in the Dreaming.”

“I… okay, thanks, Dream,” you said, trying your hardest to contain your excitement.

He nodded, before turning on his heel and marching out of the library.

Shelving the books in her arms, Lucienne interrupted the silence with, “There hasn’t been a celebration in the Dreaming in centuries.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“None at all. In fact, this is the happiest I’ve seen him in quite a long time. You’ve really done a number on him,” said the librarian, regarding you with a curious look.

“This is him happy?” you gasped, feeling bad for laughing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to see him angry, then.”

Lucienne scoffed at the thought. “Oh, I doubt it. He’s taken quite a liking to you.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to reply with a coherent response, but found your tongue void of one. Morpheus liked you? All this time, you were only assuming that he was just tolerating you—interested, perhaps, at the very most.

“Well, I’ll see you at the party, then,” said Lucienne, finding your stunned expression mildly amusing. She sent you a kind smile. “Let me know if you need assistance with anything.”

Not even three hours later, the castle was brilliantly lit with floating candles and dewy bubbles that emitted hazy, multi-hued light. There was upbeat music echoing throughout the expansive chambers, a rich accompaniment of wind instruments and chiming bells and thrumming beats of drums—though none of said instruments were anywhere to be found. Along with that, there was a large variety of snacks and nibbles arranged on a long, intricately designed table, including dates, cheese, and buttery pastries that practically melted in your mouth. Golden chalices overflowing with wines and honeyed ales alike were passed around like a contagious flu. The castle was packed, dreams and nightmares and gods (yes, even some that you recognized—Dionysus drunkenly greeted you with a hug and a slap to the back) were milling here and there chattering excitedly. From what you gathered whilst mingling with everybody else at the party, the entire ordeal was huge—evidently, Morpheus wasn’t quite the partying type. It came as a shock to everybody when they received prompt invitations to the castle.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t seen him at all since the celebration commenced. Which was strange, considering he was the one that set it all up in the first place.

“My, my, my, aren’t you a beauty? Have we not crossed paths just hours before, Lord Bastet?” a nightmare purred into your ear, roping you out of your thoughts. His name was Corinthian, one of the many that Morpheus had introduced to you on your little tour through his realm. You turned around, a flirtatious grin to your lips, hooded eyes flickering over to meet a pair of black shades. You were well aware that Morpheus would most definitely not be pleased with you seducing one of his nightmares, but he wasn’t even here at his own party, so you didn’t quite see a problem. “No wonder the Dream Lord’s gone full out—he’s aiming to win somebody over, ain’t he?”

A hum fell from you, and you stepped forward, cocking your head. “Do you always speak in questions, my sweet Nightmare?”

“Only works if you answer them, doesn't it?” he retorted, a handsome grin to his features. Corinthian was well aware that you were flirting around with him and had no issues with reciprocating the energy, but he also knew that it was all fun and games—nothing serious. Besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on getting in between whatever it is that Morpheus and you had going on.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Speaking of—do you know where he is? Don’t get me wrong, he’s thrown a splendid celebration—and this is coming from the God of celebrations—but I do have to admit that it puts a damper on the mood if the host himself doesn’t make an appearance.”

A laugh rolled off of Corinthian’s tongue. “Why don’t you turn around, darlin’?”

When you did, you were met with the sight of the Dream King, draped in his long coat, hair as scraggly as ever. He was watching the two of you with a sharp gaze, jaw squared. Though he let little slip past his guarded features, you were beginning to read him very well. He wasn’t angry, no—in fact, he was amused, but was furiously trying to hide it. “I’m pleased my presence matters so much to you, Y/N.”

You bit down on your lip to stave away your growing grin. “You’re late to the party.”

“I wanted to allow you space to enjoy it,” he graciously said. “The rest of my subjects would hardly speak to you freely if I was glued by your side.”

“True,” you admitted. “Though, I wouldn’t really mind being stuck to you.”

Morpheus offered no reaction to your words, save for a glimmer of mirth behind the blue of his honed irises.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked quietly, barely audible over the raucous upswing of the celebration.

Feeling bold tonight, you could only sidle closer to him, the cold golden jewelry of your party attire brushing against the very front lapels of his dark coat. Morpheus’ gaze flitted downward, soaking you in your entirety, before returning back to your face just as quickly. “You threw a party in my name and disappeared without a trace! Of course I was waiting for you, Dream.”

For a moment, Dream had the gall to appear mildly apologetic. He didn’t seem to mind that you were much closer now, watching the way your searching eyes reflected the fires of the floating candles, like burning stars within the vast galaxy. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, then.”

“Nothing a couple drinks can’t remedy,” you assured him, about to reach out to grasp his hand and pull him to a table of self-refilling refreshments, before hesitating and pulling your hand back.

Whistling loudly, Corinthian suddenly pulled both of your attentions away from each other. If you had to be completely honest, you’d nearly forgotten that he was there. In fact, you’d nearly forgotten there were hundreds of other beings in the room. He was grinning wolfishly, hands propped on his hips. “Well, aren’t you two a swell pair of lovebirds? It was lovely meeting you, eh, Bast? Take care of dear old Dream, will you?”

You waved him away with a grin before he sauntered off into the crowd, disappearing amongst a throng of boisterous dreams.

The party had waned away to a couple of drunken gods (which took about a pond’s worth of fluid to get them to such a state) stumbling about in the halls, and a few straggling nightmares still trying to squeeze out the last remnants of the party. Everybody else had gone back to their respective homes or realms, exhausted and in need of a long rest.

Much to your delight, Morpheus hadn’t left your side once the entire night. He stuck by you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal. However, you found that he’d been right—nearly all of his subjects that had initially been so friendly to you were now intimidated by their creator stonily staring them down. It was worth it, though. You liked Morpheus’ company, even if it was mostly silent and warded people away. Lucienne, however, practically immune to Morpheus’ temperament, spoke to you for a lengthy amount of time about the most interesting books she’s come across in her library, and you made her promise to lend copies to you whenever you returned for your next visit. Morpheus seemed to just barely smile when you mentioned that you were keen on returning to his realm.

You’ve spent far too much time away from the living realm, and you wanted to return back to your duties, you really did—but you were finding it hard to say goodbye to Dream. Especially when he was watching you with such attractive, hooded eyes.

Had his eyes been like that the entire time, or was he just looking at you like that now that the two of you were alone, in front of his bedroom? How in the world did you get up here without realizing?

“What is it like? To have your subjects love you?” asked Morpheus, nearly startling you out of your dazed reverie.

The question was an unexpected one, but you were quick to respond nonetheless. “It is perhaps the best part of serving them. I do not exist without them. I am nothing without them—and for that, I am grateful.”

Morpheus dipped his head, as if in thought.

“The humans have named you a God of many things, because they love you so,” he said. “Is it not tiring to juggle so many conflicting duties at once?”

“It’s not tiring at all. I like a bit of variety in my work. And I love them just as much for it, if not more—after all, I am a God of infatuation,” you replied, lips slanting up at him.

Something changed within his scrutiny. It was minute, but you still noticed it. His jaw relaxed just a bit, and he angled his face to better look at you. Suddenly, your first few meetings where he had completely refused to meet your gaze whatsoever felt so very long ago. Not at all subtly, Morpheus’ stormy eyes glossed down to your lips, which were just slightly parted with want.

Your breath hitched within your throat.

Emboldened, you spoke again, voice an octave lower. “I am also a God of pleasure.” Ever so slowly, you reached out to graze your hand over his. His eyes remained on you, unblinking. When he didn’t jerk away, you threaded your warm fingers through his frigid ones. “Perhaps I can show you?”

There was a stormy grumble to Morpheus’ chest when his arm darted out to snake over your waist, pulling you close. He swallowed your pleased gasp when he sealed his lips over yours, noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor. Finally, finally, your hands reached up to bury within his unruly dark hair, sighing into him. There was a furiously desperate nature behind his touches, and you were nothing if not a match to his intensity. When you softly bit down on the bottom of his lip, a dangerous color melded over his features, and he made a suppressed noise of torment in the back of his throat, before kissing you again—harder this time. You most certainly didn’t mind.

In tandem, you stepped back into his bedroom, and he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed so loudly, the very walls rattled—no doubt the entire castle had heard it. Neither of you seemed to care.

She was screaming.

There was a long litany of crying pleas falling from her lips, hair plastered to her quickly paling skin with sweat. Tears rolled down her plump cheeks as she cradled her swollen stomach, where her unborn child was slowly dying within her.

She was losing her baby.

You were standing beside her, casting as many protective healing enchantments as fast as you possibly could, breathing labored. The very beginnings of panic seized your heart when none of it was enough. You weren’t enough.

“PLEASE!” she screamed her voice raw to any God that would listen to her. “PLEASE, HELP ME! I BEG YOU! I BEG YOU, PLEASE! I can’t lose them, I can’t lose my baby!”

“I’m trying,” you croaked, strained, even though she couldn’t hear or see you. You were trying—but it was too late.

Death appeared in front of the bed, serenely calm, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You only shrugged her off, hurriedly casting more enchantments, more incantations, more protective shielding. You were a God of fertility, a protector of women and children—how could you let this happen?

“Y/N,” your old friend said, not unkindly.

You ignored her.

“Y/N,” she repeated, a touch firmer. “You cannot bring back the dead.”

Another enchantment. Another incantation. Another spell. A scalding tear fell down your cheek. Your hands began to shake.

The child was still dead. The mother’s wails echoed shrill in your head.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, your vision obscured with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

You didn’t even register when Dream gently pulled you away from the woman, so his sister had some space to properly do her job. Because you had failed at yours.

A sob thundered through you, shaking you to your very core. “I’m sorry,” you cried, turning away from the body. This wasn’t the first time you’d gone through this, but it only seemed to get more and more painful each time.

Morpheus, grim-faced and solemn, brought you closer to him with soft touches, guiding your head to rest into the crook of his neck. You cried against his skin, fistfuls of his coat gathered tightly within your palms. He murmured a short sentence of comfort into your ear, but you didn’t quite catch what he was saying, ears filled with static.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over again. Morpheus tenderly stroked the back of your head, falling silent, and tugged you all the closer to him.

She was asleep.

A man laid naked beside her, his arm thrown loosely over her waist as he snored so loud it was a wonder she didn’t jolt awake.

With a beguiling smile, you looked over your shoulder to Morpheus expectantly. A miniscule glimmer of amusement warbled within his eyes, and with a flick of his fingers, the slumbering man’s arm fell away from the woman, and he turned over with a grumble, falling deeper into a dreamful sleep.

“Thank you,” you told him, affectionately grazing the tip of your nose to his cheek. “You should come along with me more often—it’s fun having an assistant to help me with my duties.”

“I’m only but a call away, my love,” replied the Endless, an unmistakably doting edge to his words.

Your grin grew double its size. Morpheus slowly gestured to the sleeping couple with his head, reminding you of your duties.

“They’ve been trying to conceive for months,” you told him, waving your hand over the woman’s belly. A soft aureate glow touched the ends of your fingers, and fell to her in periodic droplets. “Today’s their lucky day.”

With a final protective casting, you stepped back, satisfied.

“She won’t know she’s pregnant until two or three weeks’ time,” you said, making your way back to him across the room. “I’ll be back by then to make sure she’s doing alright—will you come with me, Morpheus?”

The Endless regarded you with a soft, fond gaze, one that was reserved for you, and only you. He gathered your hands within his.

You arched a brow when he didn’t answer your question. “Morpheus—?”

“Marry me,” he cut you off quietly, voice saturated with feather-silken endearment.

There was a beat of shocked silence, and you had to pause for another two to make sure that he wasn’t jesting with you. Then again, Morpheus was never the kind to jest in the first place.

Then, your expression cracked into one of joy, positively radiant. The moonlight streaming through the window cast mellow shadows over the slopes of your features, shifting as you smiled ever so brilliantly.

“On one condition,” you murmured, drawing yourself closer to him and dragging a glowing finger down his jaw.

“Anything, my love,” whispered Morpheus, his lips but a hair’s breadth from yours.

“You must know that my duties to the mortals will always come first and foremost.”

The Endless dipped his head in understanding. “Every passing moment with you is only something to be all the more grateful for.”

“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you?” you whispered, amused. Morpheus stole your smile away with a kiss, indulgent in nature and devastatingly gentle.

Khonshu thought you were a fool. A mindless, bumbling fool.

“You married Dream of the Endless?” your half-brother harrumphed. “What of your courtship with Ptah? He is in love with you, sibling-mine.”

At the mention of your previous lover, you bristled, glaring witheringly at his bird-skulled form. “That was centuries ago, Khonshu. Perhaps if you’d bothered to keep in touch, you would know that. Besides, Ptah is madly in love with Sekhmet, and she with him. I have no interest in rekindling whatever it is we had in the past. I love Morpheus, and that is that. Now I’m very much glad you didn’t bother showing up to our wedding.”

“There was a wedding?” he snarked, which made you square your jaw.

The two of you had always had a love-hate relationship, as most siblings often did.

“Even Anubis showed up,” you retorted, mind wandering back to your first love from long ago, and the awkward introduction between him and your husband. “Though, Morpheus wasn’t particularly happy about that.”

“Anubis has always been a sniveling, groveling simpleton,” your brother snidely remarked. “I am ever so busy, as you can see—I have no time for frivolous events such as weddings.”

Knowing it was pointless arguing with him, you simply blew out a sigh, and watched as he carefully shifted the moon into appearance amongst the stars of the night sky.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp, searing pain tore through your chest, and you let out a choked groan, falling to your knees at the sudden sensation. Khonshu’s large head rounded to look at you, a litany of sharp, berating words on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back upon seeing you on the ground.

“Y/N?” he asked, deep voice bellowing.

It felt as if a dozen knives were plunged within you, twisting, twisting, twisting—

Morpheus.

You didn’t know what was going on, but something was happening to him. You could feel it. He was in danger. Panicked, you called for him in your thoughts, and received no response. With a trembling voice, you called for him out loud.

Nothing.

Khonshu was beside you by then, helping you up, asking you about a dozen impatient questions at once, but you had no time to answer any of them.

“I have to go,” you told him, before stepping away, determined to get back to the Dreaming to find your husband.

“Lucienne!” you called, running into the library after scouring the castle, finding it completely empty. The librarian looked up from her book, a smile on her face upon seeing you. It was quick to melt away when she noticed your terrified expression. “Where’s Morpheus? Where is he?”

She looked taken aback by your frantic nature, before she calmly replied, “I’m not quite sure, he was here recently—I thought he was with you?”

“So he’s not here?” you asked, breath hitching. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Lucienne, I have to find him. I’m afraid something’s happened to my husband!”

Concerned, she tilted her head. “What makes you think so?”

“I just—I felt this searing pain within me, and for a moment I could feel him, like I… I could feel his pain, as if it were mine—I felt his anguish. And then it was just gone.”

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’m certain he’s perfectly fine,” Lucienne placated, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can wait until nightfall—Morpheus is sure to return from wherever he is by then.”

He didn’t return.

Not at nightfall.

Not the next day. Nor the next week, nor the month after that.

Not for years, not for decades.

The living realm was in shambles without him. Some went for days without sleep, collapsing only out of pure exhaustion, and others slept in a comatose state for weeks on end.

Dreams and nightmares looked to you for guidance at first—but you weren’t equipped to rule an entire realm on your own, much less one that wasn’t yours to begin with.

And not long after Dream’s disappearance, they began to leave the Dreaming, in search of something else.

The kingdom was crumbling apart, and you tried your best to keep it together at first, you really did. But with so much of your time devoted to the living realm, you began to weaken, and you couldn’t uphold both strenuous duties at once. With time, the Dreaming began decaying and breaking down, until all that was left was ash and rubble.

Lucienne was one of the only ones that stayed in the broken realm, and it shattered your heart to see her so dejected, living amongst the ruins that she once called a home.

And what made it all worse was that you missed him. You missed your husband. His comforting presence, his smooth, melodic voice, his muted kindness, despite his cold exterior. You missed him, terribly so, and to see his world crumbling away filled the cracks within your chest with a thick, tar-like despair.

During your time in the living realm, when you weren’t helping out the frantic mortals, you spent your time scouring city to city, country to country, tribe to tribe—and nowhere was Morpheus to be found. You’d even gotten so desperate to ask your brother, Khonshu, to help, and he’d reluctantly agreed, using his poor sleep-deprived avatars to help search for him. Perhaps you didn’t search hard enough.

Or perhaps… perhaps he was simply gone.

No. No, it just couldn’t be.

Morpheus wouldn’t up and disappear like that—he loved his subjects, his dreams, his nightmares, all of them—and he loved you, more than anything else.

He wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, you knew that. He was somewhere out there, in the vast cosmos.

And he needed your help.

“I’ll find you, my dearest Dream,” you whispered, still trying ever so desperately to reach him through thought. “Wherever you are… wherever you’ve gone…”

I’ll find you.

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daddyjackfrost · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3: Welcome to The Dreaming

╰┈➤ ❝ [stay with me ; morpheus ] ❞

morpheus x fem!reader

warnings: third person pov, 8k+ words (wtf), lots of morpheus in it (ur welcome), don’t think too much about the politics of it

read chapter 4 here

stay with me ; masterlist

The King of Dreams sat on his throne with all the regalness a King ought to have. His throne room was dark, the only light came from his stained windows, the murals taking shapes of his most recent dreams.

A census laid in his lap, forgotten and untouched. Earlier, he had asked Lucienne for an updated census, using it as an excuse to better know his residents.

It was easier to know them through Lucienne’s words, her effort, than his own.

A quiet hum vibrated through his mind, his heart. It had begun many years ago, and he could never seem to quieten it. He had become used to it, a comforting tune that was his. It lulled him to sleep, and the King of Dreams did not sleep. Today, the hum was stronger, louder.

A firm knock interrupted his comfortable silence. Opening the census to a random page, Dream straightened his posture. “Enter,” he called out.

Lucienne pushed open the throne room door, bowed, and walked to the center of the room. Her brown eyes fell on the census she had given Dream hours ago.

“My Lord,” Lucienne smiled. “Are the findings to your satisfaction?”

Lucienne had asked with a smile and no ill intentions, but Morpheus knew that his perceptive librarian could sense the lie on his tongue. He was Endless, but his facial expressions were not so easily concealed.

“Yes, Lucienne.” Morpheus shut the book. “Well done.”

Lucienne’s smile widened for a moment before it turned professional. She knew Morpheus lied, but she also knew her work was well done, and when the time came, her Lord would appreciate her effort.

“Before I forget,” Lucienne started, “a new book appeared in the library this morning.”

Morpheus raised an eyebrow, curious. “What about?”

Humans had begun to get creative, imaginative. He loved reading new works by humans, works he knew his dreams and nightmares had inspired.

Lucienne’s smile stretched. “You. Me. The Dreaming. Y/n will write a book about her visits in The Dreaming. I believe it will be well written. All her other books are.”

Lucienne was correct, of course. All of Y/n’s works had been beautifully written. He would never admit to it, but Morpheus had read them all.

Her words spoke to him in ways no dream could.

At the mention of her name, the humming loudened in Morpheus’s ears, before he released a small breath.

“I see. Speaking of Y/n,” Morpheus turned to his right, staring at the statues that lined his walls, “is there any more information on her?”

Lucienne shook her head. “Unfortunately, all remains the same. However, only five years remain until your vis— ”

Lucienne was cut off by a quiet tear in the fabric of The Dreaming. Her words died on her tongue as the humming around Morpehus grew louder until it rang in Lucienne’s ears as well. The throne room shook briefly before a muffled hmph was heard.

Lucienne’s eyes fell on the crouched figure before her. Dropping her hands, she ran to Y/n. Resting a light hand on Y/n’s back, Lucienne bent her knees slightly.

“Y/n? Oh my goodness, are you alright?”

Y/n stood straight, stretching her arms. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness before settling on Lucienne’s concerned face. “Lucienne?” Y/n whispered. Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled widely. “How lovely to see you!”

Lucienne dropped her hand from Y/n’s back and stepped back, smiling lightly.

“Pleasure is all mine.”

From the corner of her eyes, Lucienne watched Morpheus stand to his full height. The temperature in the throne room dropped, and the chills on Y/n’s arms captured her attention. Turning away from Lucienne, her eyes roamed the throne room, taking in the beautiful architecture. Her eyes paused on the hanging statues and murals.

Finally, Y/n’s eyes fell on a tall, dark figure. A shadow of a man faced her, stars for eyes stared into her, and the familiar pull of her heart tightened.

With a gentleness that had yet to be graced in Dream’s throne room, Y/n whispered the name that haunted her waking life and had become the object of her dreams.

“Oneiros.”

Y/n’s tongue caressed every syllable of his name, tasting every memory they shared. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and delight. Although the room was wide, large, fit for a King, Morpheus had never felt so small. There was a secret in his name he had yet to learn.

Lucienne stepped back, observing the exchange with narrowed, intrigued eyes. She had not heard that name in quite a long time. It reminded her of her place.

Morpheus stepped forward, into the light. His eyes remained on her, watching her every reaction, counting her every breath. He walked down the steps slowly, tauntingly. He had not even the slightest clue as to how Y/n could have appeared in his throne room. It was impossible.

His black robes trailed behind him. Morpheus could hear Y/n’s short breath. As he neared, the hum between them roared, demanding to be acknowledged.

Y/n watched the man she had dreamed of walk towards her. His facial characteristics lingered between human and regal but also something old, ancient. His expression remains stoic, not an emotion behind those icy blue eyes. His dark raven hair hangs over his forehead, and in the light, he looks like a dream.

Stepping off the last step, Morpheus stands almost ten feet away from Y/n but the distance feels less. She can feel his power wrap around her, vibrate against her skull. There is no doubt in her mind that the being before her is the same being that visits her every century, but his presence feels different here.

Powerful and alive.

Halting, Morpheus stood as still as a statute. With hidden wonder, his eyes danced across Y/n’s face. A few scratches had scarred on her right cheek, and her jaw was discolored. He knew humanity was cruel to those it did not understand, and Y/n seemed to be a victim.

“Y/n.”

Morpheus’s voice was low, raspy, and it vibrated against her spine. Her name carried through the throne room until it melted on his tongue. His stare burned her, his eyes unwavering as he took a slow step toward her, measured.

Y/n’s breath hitched as Morpheus neared. She could hear her heartbeat in her skull, pounding until she blinked.

“You have returned.” His words were spoken gently, but his eyes were hard and his nostrils were flared.

Y/n smiled, knowing that a smile was all she could offer. “I have. Though… I did not expect to see you.”

Morpheus’s eyes narrowed slightly. He tilted his head, studying her. “No?” His words felt luring. “Tell me, Y/n.” He took another slow step toward her. “What brings you here, to my throne room? To my palace?”

Y/n’s eyes widen and her lips part in surprise. “Your palace?”

Lowering her eyes to the floor, Y/n takes a moment to think. Morpheus watches the gears in her mind work, the way she licks her lips and narrows her eyes. He cannot seem to look away, enamored by the transparency of her emotions.

“Lord Morpheus.” His name is a prayer on her lips, a welcomed praise. “You’re Lord Morpheus. The King of The Dreaming. Aren’t you?”

Morpheus nods, once. He takes another step closer. “I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of Nightmares. I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of The Endless. This is my palace.”

Y/n mouths his name, his title, and Morpheus watches. Y/n lifts her head and meets Morpheus’s hardened gaze. “I’ve finally found you, Morpheus.”

Morpheus takes another step closer. Her breath tickles his chin. Standing close, Morpheus tipped his head to the side, studying the woman before him. At their closeness, Y/n remembered the first time he had found her, many years ago. He had taken her hand and pulled her up. Y/n wondered how it would feel to take his hand instead.

“Yes, human, you have.” Lowering his voice to match shallow thunder, Morpheus asked, “Tell me how.”

Before Y/n could answer, someone cleared their throat and broke the spell Morpheus and Y/n had been under. Stepping away from her, Morpheus looked up and found Lucienne and Merv watching him. Y/n turned her head and let out a small laugh, walking away from him and towards Mervyn.

Y/n paid no attention to the way they looked at her. She stopped in front of Merv, a smile on her face. Merv looked away from Morpheus and looked down at Y/n, a reluctant smirk on his face.

“Hey, kid. Happy to see you.”

“Thank you, Merv. It’s wonderful to see you. How are the repairs going?”

Merv shrugged. “They’re going. If you got time you should come visit me. I’ll show you around.”

Morpheus watched the exchange with heated, conflicted eyes. A woman who had met the pumpkinhead twice had more of a relationship with him than his creator.

“Lucienne. Mervyn. Leave us.”

Lucienne bowed, unable to meet Morpheus’s eyes. She had never seen her Lord behave the way he did. The passion between Dream and Y/n had left Lucienne in awe, and it left Merv with something to talk about.

Merv and Lucienne turned and walked out of the throne room. As the doors shut, Y/n stiffens. She had been alone with Oneiros before, but that had been before she began to dream. Before she realized she missed him. Before she realized he was a King, an Endless with a realm.

Y/n turned to face Morpheus. He stood tall, still. His raven hair was wild, his alabaster skin glowed, and his soft pink lips were turned downwards.

Taking a step towards him, Y/n could not help but stare at him. He was breathtaking, beautiful.

“Answer my question, Y/n.”

Y/n smiled. “Play a game with me.”

Morpheus took a small step towards Y/n. His head seemed to tip on its own until their eye levels matched. “This is not a game, human. This is my realm. And you will answer my question.”

Y/n held her breath. If she breathed, it would tickle Dream’s face. Staring into his eyes, she noticed the way stars danced within his irises. “Pity,” she whispered. “I love games.”

Morpheus held her gaze for a prolonged moment before dropping it to her lips. She was biting her bottom lip, and it was distracting. His eyes studied her face before looking back at her.

“You want to play a game? Very well, human. We shall play a game.”

Morpheus straightened, creating distance between them. His hands were behind his back and he stood with the grace of a King. “Answer my questions honestly, and I will answer yours.”

“Promise?”

Morpheus exhaled. “I am an Endless. Have you any doubt of my honesty?”

Y/n shrugged. “You never told me you ruled a realm. You lied.”

“I did not lie, human. You simply did not ask the right questions.”

Y/n stared at him with pursed lips, a laugh behind them “Or maybe, you answered them too simply.”

Morpheus ignored her words. “How did you appear in my throne room? It is impossible for a human to get so close.”

Y/n shifted her gaze to the three stained windows behind Morpheus. Each window held a different being. They were beautiful.

“I do not know,” she finally answered. “When my eyes shut, I began to think about… I then heard my name. When they opened, I was standing in your throne room.”

Y/n’s eyes fell to the floor, her attention captured by the intricate markings. A warm, light hand captured her chin, tilting her head up. Morpheus stood close, his eyes held a low fire.

“You dare keep things from me?” His words were whispered, but the authoritative anger behind them was not.

Y/n could not help but twitch her lips upwards. She had never expected a man who seemed so cold to have such warm hands.

“I began to think about The Dreaming, Morpheus. The people. You. I began to think about you.”

Morpheus released Y/n’s chin, stepping back. Her words burned him, and no amount of space could cool him. He watched her as she stood before him with a teasing smile and wide eyes.

This is a game to her, Morpheus thought. She has every intention to win.

“Shameless, are we?”

Y/n grinned. “Immortality does that.”

Choosing to ignore her words, Morpheus began to circle Y/n. A hand on his chin. “That does not explain how you appeared here. Waking in the library I could dismiss, but this? I cannot.”

Y/n watched Morpheus as he circled her. His long coat crushed against her dress. “Why do you rule The Dreaming?”

Morpheus stopped. He turned his head, staring at Y/n. Choosing his words carefully, he answered her with a low voice. “It is who I am. My responsibility.”

Y/n nodded, like she had expected his answer. Morpheus began to walk again. His mind tried to find answers to his question. A human cannot appear in the palace, much less into his throne room.

“Have you considered house plants?”

Morpheus paused his pacing right in front of Y/n. With slightly exasperated eyes, he looked at her, only to find her grinning. The smile blinded him and he looked away.

“No,” he answered. Unsure as to why he played into her delusions. “Why have you begun to dream? And why do you dream inconsistently?”

Y/n sighed. As beautiful as the throne room was, she wished to explore more of The Dreaming. She wanted to see Abel and Goldie, speak to Matthew and Mervyn.

“I think it is because in the Waking World, I am lonely. Consistent company is the one thing I lack, the one thing I dream of. As for why my dreams are inconsistent, I believe it is because my yearning is profound some days, and dull otherwise.”

Morpheus digested her words, picking them apart in his mind. He could understand yearning for company. Humans died rather quickly, and they loved greatly. For a small moment, Morpheus realized that he too yearned for company. Perhaps he was not too different from humans.

With a satisfied nod, he said, “I see.” After a moment, he met Y/n’s eyes. “Have you found worthy company here?”

Y/n smiled softly at him, a smile so earnest he drank it up, locking it away so he would never forget it, nor think about it.

“I have.”

The silence between the human and Endless was comfortable, and it irked Morpheus. He clenched his hands behind his back. “You are hiding something, Y/n. Humans cannot be here, and yet you are.” His words were soft, accusatory.

Y/n frowned. “I’m not hiding anything. I have been honest.”

Morpheus’s eyebrows furrowed, framing his penetrating stare. They were close once again, seemingly unable to find their own space within such a large room. Y/n looked up at Morpheus, feeling smaller than she had in a long time. Morpheus looked down at her, noticing different flecks of colours in her eyes.

“Humans are not honest creatures, Y/n. Dreamers, destroyers, liars, imaginers, but not honest.”

Morpheus was angry. Not because he had a right to be, but because he didn’t. He knew Y/n told him the truth, she had no reason to lie. But it was her earnest expression, her smile, the way she loudened the hum in his heart that pushed Morpheus.

“You speak of humanity like you created it.” Y/n held Dream’s glare. “You didn’t. We created you. How can you call me dishonest when you cannot even answer my questions?”

Y/n’s words slapped Morpheus across the face. He looked away, knowing her anger was not misplaced. He placed it there, purposely. Before he could say anything, Y/n winced.

“Sorry,” she whispered. At her apology, Morpheus’s head turned to her, a surprised glint in his dark eyes. Y/n stared at his slightly glazed, rimmed eyes. They both breathed heavily, chests rising and falling.

“Why do you apologize?”

Y/n scratched her neck. “I can understand where your hesitancy comes from. I’m an enigma to you. Plus,” she shrugged. “I do not want to anger a being greater than a God.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened slightly at Y/n’s words. He had forgotten that Y/n was the greatest display of humanity he had ever seen. He should have known that she was wiser than he had thought.

“Your scratches,” Morpheus changed the subject, “where did they come from?”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed before she reached up to her cheek, a small ah escaping her. “These? These are nothing. Just a small gift from a parting village.”

At her words, Morpheus turned towards her. At the attention, Y/n laughed, waving her hand in dismissal. “It is not that serious. There has to be consequences to my wish, doesn’t there? Many think I am a witch. If only it were true.”

“Does the pain not hurt?”

“Of course it hurts,” Y/n looked at Morpheus with a deadpan look. “I am immortal, not immune.”

“Not that,” Morpheus nodded to her face. “Does the pain there,” he pointed to her heart, “not hurt?”

Y/n looked down at where Morpehus pointed. “Oh. Yes, I suppose it does. One gets used to it, though. Time is a great remedy.”

Her words held no substance. She spoke them lightly, like they did not matter. Morpheus could hear the pain, though. It was the kind of pain he felt in nightmares, the ones filled with loss and regret.

Morpheus parted his lips to ask her more questions, to understand the role she played in The Dreaming, but at the sight of her frown, he could only ask her one thing:

“Will you accompany me on a walk?”

Y/n’s head lifted and she smiled at him, a small secretive smile. It washed his scarce dilemma away. Unknown to him as to why, but her smile made him feel like he had done the right thing.

“You’ve asked me that before.”

“Have I?’

“Yes. The first time.”

Morpheus remembered well. It was the first time he touched her, and when he swore it would be the last.

“What is your answer?”

Y/n’s smile tightened something in him, and unconsciously, he was already extending his hand.

“I would love to.”

The King of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares felt like a shadow as he walked behind Y/n. There was a jump in her step as she skipped down the aisles of the library. Her long, flowy dress brushed against the wooden floor, and Morpheus watched with sullen eyes.

Y/n’s arms were outstretched on either side, her fingers brushing the spines of all the books she passed. It was exhilarating, to touch the stories of people she would never meet, brush her fingers against the books she would never read.

Morpheus had yet to say a word to her since entering the library. He quietly followed her, walking in her shadow. It felt comfortable to have him behind her. She felt watched, protected, like she was worthy of all his attention.

Y/n’s eyes fell on a familiar woman. Y/n smiled as Lucienne mumbled to herself, writing on parchment with a dipped quill. “Working very hard, I see.”

Lucienne lifted her head, smiling gently at Y/n. She put down her quill and pushed her round, vintage glasses up. “There is much to do,” Lucienne answered. Her eyes shifted behind the human and Lucienne stood quickly. She bowed her head. “My Lord, I apologize. I did not see you there.”

Morpheus tipped his head in acknowledgement. He did not move from the shadows, finding pleasure in watching Lucienne and the human interact.

“Would you like to join us on our walk, Lucienne? I could use the feminine company.”

Morpheus watched Lucienne’s expression shift. Her eyes softened and her lips pulled into an unfamiliar smile. Lucienne was honoured by the invitation, and Morpheus realized that his librarian had never smiled at him as such.

“As lovely as that sounds, Y/n, I have quite a bit of work to do. Next time,” she promised.

Lucienne did not meet Morpheus’s stare. He could not know she refused because of him. It would not be proper, and Lucienne would not know how to act.

Y/n’s shoulders sagged for a moment before she smiled at the librarian. “I understand. Next time, then.”

“Come, Y/n.” Morpheus’s voice reverberated around Lucienne’s office.

Y/n smiled at Lucienne before waving. Morpheus turned and walked away. Before Y/n could follow him, Lucienne called her name.

“Lord Morpheus… he does not do tours.”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh. “I figured.”

Lucienne could not help but raise her eyebrows in question. “You are special, Y/n.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Y/n smiled at Lucienne before turning and briskly walking in Dream’s direction. Lucienne watched the human walk away. At first glance, there was nothing special about Y/n. She appeared to be like every other human woman in The Dreaming.

But upon further inspection, Lucienne saw the way eyes shone, the brightness of her smile, and the enamoring tone of voice she used. She did not blame her King for being fascinated by the human.

When Y/n turned the corner, Lucienne sat back down and continued her work. She would think about her Lord and the human later. For now, she had her books to tend to.

Walking through the library, towards the large doors, Y/n watched Morpheus move with rigid stillness. His black coat followed him obediently. Everything about him was dark, black. His very presence felt off in the warm, brown-coloured library.

“Can we visit Cain and Abel?” Y/n asked from behind him. Her head was tilted, and she looked like a curious child following the bogeyman.

Morpheus did not turn around to see her smile, one he knew she would be wearing. He continued on, reasoning in his mind. He asked her to join him on his daily walk through The Dreaming.

She was an addition to his plans, not the reason for them.

“We shall meet them when we get to them.”

Morpheus spoke his words lowly, decisively. He was a King, and there was a reputation to uphold.

“Okay.”

Y/n pushed herself, walking instep with Morpheus. There was considerable distance between the two, but it did little for their hearts.

The humming around them grew louder.

A familiar stone path laid before Y/n, and she grinned at the sight of two houses. How she had missed the House of Secrets and the House of Mystery.

She had painted this very scene before her, but paint and memory did not do it justice. The greenery of the lot, the vines and their intricate patterns, and the cottage-like houses had been greatly missed by Y/n.

Morpheus watched Y/n as she breathed in the fresh air. His own lips twitched at the sight of her grin. He had never quite appreciated The Dreaming the way Y/n did. Her fascination made him proud.

“You painted this.”

Y/n’s head turned to face Morpheus, her eyes wide. For a moment, she looked guilty. It puzzled him.

“How did you know?”

Morpheus was silent. He did not want to admit that he had seeked her painting out. It was below him to appreciate human art, but Morpheus could not help it. He found joy in admiring paintings, reading poetry, and listening to odd melodies.

Human art paralleled human dreams, and he created dreams.

“Lucienne informed me. She cares for human creations.”

“Oh.” Morpheus did not want to imagine disappointment in her voice. “Is that all right?”

Without looking at her, Morpheus stepped onto the stone path and began to walk near the entrance. “What is?”

“Painting The Dreaming. Writing about it. Can I?”

Morpheus slightly turned his head, watching Y/n follow him from the corner of his eyes. “You ask permission after you have already done both?”

Y/n shrugged, a soft resting smile on her lips. “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

Stopping at the edge of the path, Morpheus’s lips lifted into a brief bare outline of a smirk. It disappeared before Y/n could fully comprehend it.

“Yes, Y/n. It is fine.”

Y/n’s head dropped before she smiled at her feet. “Good to know.”

“Cain,” Morpheus called out. “Abel.”

Two sets of footsteps were heard from behind the houses. Morpheus and Y/n watched as two short men with slick black hair and long beards walked towards them. One seemed to be yelling, and the other seemed to bare it.

Abel saw them first, and his eyes widened. A wide smile broke out on his face, replacing his frown.

“My Lord! You grace us with your presence.” Abel bowed his head.

“Lord Morpheus,” Cain greeted, bowing his head.

“Are you well, Abel, Cain?”

Both brothers nodded, pleased by Morpheus’s question. Their attention shifted to the woman standing beside Morpheus, and Abel’s grin widened while Cain’s dropped.

“Y/n!” Abel laughed, stretching his arms. “How nice to see you!”

Y/n grinned, waving at Abel. “Abel! Lovely to see you!”

Y/n’s gaze shifted to Cain’s less enthusiastic one. With a knowing look in her eyes, she tipped her head to the side, smiling at Cain. “Hello, Cain. Thrilled to see me?”

Cain sighed. “Human. You’re back.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I missed you greatly, Cain.” Y/n’s words were teasing, and Morpheus watched the exchange with blank, intrigued eyes. At the sight of Cain’s reluctant smile, Morpheus’s lips dried.

“You’re a fool, mortal.” Cain’s words were harsh, but his smile was visible.

“Lord Morpheus,” Abel started. “What brings you to our home?”

Morpheus wished he knew the right answer to Abel’s question, instead, he threaded his fingers together behind his back. His lips parted, and as he was about to answer Abel’s question, Y/n cut him off.

“We’re on a walk around The Dreaming. Morpheus is doing his job and I have come along.”

The brothers stared at Y/n before shifting their gaze to Morpheus’s unreadable expression. Unaware of the effects of her words, Y/n turned in a circle, admiring the land. “Is Goldie here, Abel?”

Blinking, Abel nodded. “He is! Let me call him.” Abel whistled and they waited for a brief moment before a golden winged animal flew above them, diving towards Abel.

Goldie, the once small gargoyle, had grown a bit. He landed on Abel’s shoulder, staring at Morpheus. The Endless stared at Goldie with a soft, scarcely perceptible smile. Y/n’s heart fluttered at the sight of it.

Goldie’s dark eyes shifted to Y/n and the little gargoyle released a throaty gurgle. He pushed off Abel’s shoulder and flew right into Y/n’s hands. The brothers and Morpheus watched as Goldie snuggled into Y/n’s hands with a smile.

Y/n brought Goldie closer to her face. Her nose touched his snout. “Hello, lovely,” she whispered. “You’re as beautiful as I remember.” Goldie tilted his head up, hitting his snout against her nose.

The exchange was wholesome, private, and it warmed Morpheus’s heart. His eyes softened at the sight, and the pull within his heart tightened. He had to look away, needing to ground himself.

“Wow,” Abel smiled. “Goldie loves you!”

Y/n smiled and lowered Goldie, rubbing his head with her thumb. “How have you two been? Fill me in on all I’ve missed.”

“Well,” Abel started, “We planted more flowers. Oh, and Cain taught Gregory more tricks.”

At the mention of Gregory, Cain’s eyes lit. “Shall I wake him?”

Y/n’s lips parted. “Yes, please. I would love to see him.”

Cain nodded and walked away. Y/n stepped towards Abel, engaging him in conversation. Their eyes were bright and their hands moved as they spoke. Abel laughed freely, like a child unafraid of his fate.

Morpheus could feel simmering jealousy. He had created this realm, its residents, and yet a human who had visited a few times had more of a connection with his creations than he, the creator.

Below the jealousy, the hum that Morpheus had grown used to had quietened. A very small, miniscule part of him felt content standing there, watching Y/n and Abel speak. Everytime she made eye contact with him and smiled, he felt the pull on his heart tug.

Heavy footsteps interrupted Abel, and he turned to find Cain standing next to Gregory. Y/n laughed at the sight, her hands clasped together in delight. Cain and Gregory walked towards them.

Gregory bowed his head towards Morpheus and the King of The Dreaming smiled briefly. The large gargoyle then turned his head towards Y/n and when he bowed his head, Cain and Abel gasped. Y/n froze and turned to Morpheus, who said nothing and silently watched.

Moments passed and Y/n cleared her throat. “Hello, Gregory. Still very green, I see.”

The gargoyle stepped towards her, tilting his head down. Y/n placed a gentle hand on his snout, rubbing it softly.

“You feel stronger, Y/n. Different. I almost could not recognise you.”

“I feel the same, though.”

Morpheus turned his head, his eyebrows furrowed.

“He speaks to you?”

Y/n nodded. “In my mind.”

Morpheus said nothing, choosing to focus his attention on the gargoyle.

“If you so choose, you may speak to me within your mind.”

Y/n held Gregory’s gaze as she tried to communicate with the gargoyle through her thoughts.

“Can you hear me?” She asked him, silently.

“Yes, child. You have brought the King of the realm to us. However did you manage that?”

Y/n glanced at Morpheus from the corner of her eye. He watched her with a blank stare, eyes unwavering.

“He asked me to go on a walk.” Oddly enough, Y/n felt shy admitting the fact to a gargoyle.

“I see.” Gregory’s deep voice invaded y/n’s mind. “How is immortality, Y/n?”

Y/n’s smile turned tight, and Morpheus did not miss it. “It is wonderful. Very painful, and hard, but if you could see all I have created, you would be in awe.”

“And if I saw all you suffered?”

“You would ask me to repent. Beg for death. But I am not ready for it. I do not want it.”

Gregory said nothing, just pushed his skin into Y/n’s palm. His comfort was enough, she did not need his words.

Morpheus cleared his throat, a conflicted feeling fleeting through his mind. Gregory was his creation, and yet, he chose Y/n to converse with.

“We must move along,” He said. His voice felt raspy, having been unused. He watched with impassivity as Y/n said her farewell to the brothers and gargoyles. Without a word, he turned and walked down the stone path.

Running after him, Y/n walked beside Morpheus. A small content smile on her face.

“Thank you, Dream.”

Morpheus faced ahead, his hands behind his back and his coat dragging against the grass. “What for?”

“For taking me to them. I forgot just how magical The Dreaming is.”

“You seem to fit right in,” he said. “I have never seen Cain so happy.”

Y/n shrugged, swaying her dress. “It is easy to find a man’s favoured indulgence. Once you know what it is, you can use it to better know him. Cain loves his home and Gregory.”

Morpheus let her words sink into his skin. “Is that so?”

Y/n nodded, her attention on a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “Men are easy creatures.”

They walked side-by-side, shoulders barely touching. They were alone in the vast forest, nothing but trees and animals to keep them company.

In their silence, Morpheus asked her, “What is my favoured indulgence?”

Y/n did not turn right away, but when she did, her eyes held secrets and her smile was wicked.

“Do you believe I would tell you, King of Dreams?”

“I do.”

Y/n tsked, turning her head to watch the butterflies again. “As I said, men are easy creatures. I am not.”

A bright coloured butterfly landed on Y/n’s outstretched hand. “It is my secret to know, and yours to find.”

“Another game?”

“Always.”

Morpheus and Y/n walked, and walked. The Dreaming was infinite and had no end, and it brought Y/n immense joy.

She ran, skipped, laughed, and smiled as they walked by different dreams. She was not allowed to walk through any dreams, but Morpheus told her the gist of every single one.

They had run into Mervyn and Matthew, and the duo walked with them for a while before Merv was needed, and with a smile and wave, he left.

Matthew flew above them, close enough to listen, and far enough to feel comfortable.

The silence was pleasant, welcomed.

Y/n walked ahead of Morpheus, who walked at a steady, unchanged pace. His black coat, dark hair, and pale skin stood out in the forest, but The Dreaming knew it’s King. Morpheus watched Y/n with all his attention. There was something serene about her, it calmed him, and it confused him.

Y/n halted, her head turned to the right. Her eyes were wide, shining. Slowly, she turned and walked. Morpheus and Matthew made eye contact before following her. They stood before an arch entrance made of trees and vines.

“Magnificent,” Y/n whispered.

At the same time, Morpheus whispered,

“impossible.”

Y/n walked through the entrance, her skin glowing and questions dancing on her lips.

Matthew landed on Morpheus’s shoulder. “Uh, boss, isn’t that Fiddler’s Green?”

“Yes,” Morpheus answered. “It is.” He followed Y/n. “It seems our human is an avid dreamer.”

Y/n felt the magic around her. It was nothing like the rest of The Dreaming. The air in this forest whispered to her, words she could not understand. It tickled her cheeks and played with her dress.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n felt her heartbeat steadily in her chest, the pull in her stomach pushed her deeper within the forest.

“Where are we?” She asked, whispering. It felt wrong to speak loudly, to disrupt the peace.

Morpheus stepped beside her, their shoulders touching briefly. “This is Fiddler’s Green.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Matthew cawed, softly. “It sure is. This is my first time here.”

Y/n turned to the raven, eyebrow raised. “First time?”

Matthew nodded, his small head bobbing. “You don’t find Fiddler’s Green. It finds you. Guess luck is on your side today, missy.”

Y/n’s confused expression turned towards Morpheus’s blank one. His eyes betrayed nothing. With a calm, measured tone, he answered Y/n’s unspoken question.

“Fiddler's Green is a sentient part of the Dreaming which all travelers dream of someday finding. It cannot be dreamed, nor visited. It exists within all planes of The Dreaming.”

Y/n nodded slowly, digesting Dream’s words. “How did I…?”

Morpheus turned his head, his blue eyes scanning the land before him. “You continue to surprise me, human.” Morpheus’s voice vibrated against Y/n’s spine, sending chills down her back.

Y/n began to walk, Morpheus close behind her. Trees parted for her, branches created cover. She had never seen anything like it.

The further away they got from the entrance, the louder the whispers got. Y/n pushed through them, figuring they were part of the magic, until they said her name.

“Y/n L/n.”

Y/n froze, the hair on her neck standing. Slowly, she turned to face Morpheus, and his eyes hardened at the sight of her frown.

“Did you hear that?”

Matthew tipped his head. “Hear what?”

Y/n’s eyes darted behind Morpheus, scanning. “My name. It was whispered.”

Matthew turned his head, making eye contact with Morpheus. Slowly, Morpheus raised an eyebrow. “I did not hear anything.”

Y/n’s frown deepened. Just as she was about to turn, she heard it again.

“Y/n L/n. Come home.”

The words were soft, almost purred. They were feminine, and when Y/n closed her eyes, she realized the voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Morpheus watched Y/n’s expression. The tightness of her lips, the way her eyes fluttered shut. She was hearing something he could not, and it displeased him.

Unconsciously, Y/n began to walk further in the forest. Her steps were slow, dragged.

Morpheus called her name. When she did not respond, he followed. Morpheus did not know what could be whispering to Y/n, there was nothing beyond Fiddler’s Green.

Except, Morpheus thought. There is one place…

Y/n walked all the way to the end of Fiddler’s Green. Her eyes opened and her lips parted in confusion. “Where is it?”

Morpheus stopped right behind Y/n, her back almost against his chest. A turmoil of emotions swam in him, his fingers itched to return to the palace.

Matthew was quiet, perched on his shoulder. He too could sense his Lord’s ill feelings.

“Where is what, Y/n?”

“I’m not sure… It called to me. It said it was here.”

“There is nothing beyond Fiddler’s Green.” His words were spoken with authority and finality.

Y/n shook her head, her eyes closed as she listened. Morpheus was beyond fear, beyond confusion, but he was not beyond feeling uncomfortable.

“There is something beyond here, Morpheus. It is calling to me.” Y/n lifted her hand, stretching it until her fingers landed on an invisible wall. She pushed, and Fiddler’s Green parted.

Large, invisible doors open to an ancient, forgotten city.

Y/n’s eyes widened as she took in the broken city before her. The palace was deteriorating, ruble coated the ground. Stepping towards it, Y/n whispered the one word Morpheus thought he would never hear again.

“Bubastis.”

Morpheus’s head snapped towards Y/n and his lips parted. He could not stop her as she ran into the forgotten city. Slowly, the King of The Dreaming walked towards what had once been a gift.

“Boss,” Matthew said. “What is this place?”

Watching Y/n with an unwavering glare, Morpheus straightened. “Bubastis, the holy city of the Goddess, Bast.”

Y/n stood before the crumbling palace with stillness Morpheus had yet to see. He stepped beside her, questions on the tip of his tongue. Y/n crouched, her fingers grazing the broken stone. As soon as she touched it, the ground beneath them rumbled.

Morpheus’s hand touched Y/n’s lower back, steadying her. It was subconscious, and the first time he had not meant to touch her.

He did not remove his hand, his touch gentle.

Ruble and stone flew as the palace rebuilt itself, sand poured until the ground was covered. With Y/n’s touch, the holy city of Bast was alive for the first time in several millennia.

Y/n watched with child-like curiosity. She was unaware of her growing presence; her hair grew fuller, her skin cleared, her eyes lightened, and she grew slightly taller.

In barely any time, the once broken city had been rebuilt to its original glory. The palace was built with golden sand, an air of ancient architecture surrounding it. It was littered with cats, small and big. They crawled from behind the palace, appearing from the sand. Their sharp feline eyes stared at Y/n, waiting for her.

Hesitant, Y/n turned to Morpheus. His eyes were already on her, astonishment shining in them. It was the first clear emotion she had ever seen on him. With the smallest nod of his head, Y/n walked further into the city.

The city which welcomed her with open arms.

“Go,” Morpheus told Matthew. The raven flew away.

Y/n walked towards the palace and the cats that awaited her. She stood before them, nerves dancing on her skin. She was confused, her mind racing.

“Is this my dream, Morpheus? Have I dreamt this place?”

“No.” Morpheus’s voice was a whisper and it barely reached her ears.

“How… what?”

Morpheus said nothing as he shut his eyes, trying to think. Bubastis had crumbled long ago, as the world stopped believing in Bast. She had given up on her holy city, and allowed him to shut it away.

The way lightning strikes trees, theories striked Morpheus. He released a long breath, opening his eyes. If his theories were correct, then he had much to think about.

“Come, Y/n. We must enter the palace.”

Morpheus walked up the hardened sandy steps, leaving Y/n standing alone. With a deep breath, she followed him.

The inside of the palace resembled Egyptian tombs. Everything was made of sand, and yet it looked sturdier than Dream’s own palace. Hieroglyphics littered the walls, stories upon stories written from the beginning of time.

Ancient artifacts were on display, and Y/n paused to examine every single one.

Morpheus guided Y/n to the center of the palace, where a large, maroon book, binded by string, awaited them on a tall wooden book-stand.

Morpheus stopped before it. His eyes lingered on the book before he stepped aside. His expression gave away nothing, but his lips were turned downwards.

“Place your hand on the book, Y/n.”

Raising a cautious eyebrow, Y/n took a small step back. “I don’t understand. What is this place? Why did it call to me?”

Morpheus’s head tilted back, his high cheekbones on display. He looked at Y/n through his eyelashes, calculating.

“What is the name of your mother?”

Y/n was taken back. She blinked, frowning. Her mind was racing, names and faces appeared and disappeared but none of them were her mother. She could not remember a single detail about her mother.

“My parents died when I was very little. I do not remember.”

Morpheus stepped towards her, a dim fire lit his eyes. “Think, Y/n. Not a single memory of the woman who birthed you?”

Y/n’s expression fell, and she looked down. “No. I can’t remember anything about her.”

Morpheus stepped back, straightening himself. “Place your hand on the book.”

Y/n did as she was told. She placed her right hand on the book. Her palm was centered, and her fingers spread. A moment passed before she tried lifting her hand, only to be met with Morpheus’s sharp glare.

“Morpheus, what is this—”

A bright white light began to shine from within the book, cutting Y/n off. Gasping, she shut her eyes as the light grew bigger and bigger, until it momentarily blinded her.

Fluttering her eyes, Y/n removed her hand from the book and rubbed her eyes. Once her vision was back, she opened her eyes to find Morpheus standing before her with a look she had never seen before.

A mixture of wonder, curiosity, understanding, and apprehension swirled in Morpheus’s blue eyes. His theory was correct, and it brought him no pleasure.

Y/n turned to face the book. Her eyes widened as she realized it was now open to a random page filled with hieroglyphics she did not understand.

“This book, Morpheus, what is it? And what does it say?”

Morpheus’s eyes stayed on Y/n, his stare awakening something deep within her. When he spoke, he spoke his words softly, breathily.

“You are a daughter of Bast, the Goddess of protection, pleasure, and the bringer of good health. The patron of the moon, cats, women, and secrets.”

Licking his lips, Morpheus took a small step towards her. “She has given you her holy blessing as her servant.”

Y/n stared at Morpheus, his words falling short on her ears. She could not comprehend what he had said, and instead, she laughed.

“Do you joke, Dream?”

Morpheus shook his head once. “I do not. You are of Godly blood, Y/n. It explains much about you.”

“I don’t understand,” Y/n whispered. She breathed heavily before lifting her dress and sitting on the sandy floor. With her legs crossed, she rested an elbow on each knee, and held her head in her hands.

Morpheus watched as she spiraled, her known world collapsing on itself. His fingers twitched and he almost rested a hand on her head.

Y/n lifted her head, glossy eyes stared at him and Moprheus’s throat dried. “What did you mean when you said she gave me her holy blessing?”

Morpheus hesitated, deciding to tell her enough, but not all.

“Bast has an affiliation with The Dreaming. When I created Bubastis for her, she added some of her power to the city. She prevented you from dreaming until she saw fit. Because you are her daughter, she is giving that small amount of power to you. It is why you dream the way you do. It is what allows you to wander The Dreaming.”

Y/n let his words sink in, picking them apart in her brain and putting them back together again.

Morpheus thought back to Death’s words all those years ago: “she’s yours.” It suddenly made sense to him. Y/n was Bast’s way of repaying him for the creation of Bubastis. Y/n’s kindleship with Bubastis allowed for an influx of dreamers. And Y/n was fate’s way of offering him the companionship Bast had once offered him.

Morpheus released a small sigh. It had all begun to piece together. Y/n was nothing more than a peace offering from Bast.

“Get up, Y/n. You are waking up.”

Y/n pushed herself up. She glanced around the room once before she slowly made her way out of the palace. Her mind was racing and her thoughts had spun a web.

The further she walked away, the louder the hum rang in Morpheus’s ears. He watched as she slowly disappeared, her body waking. Before vanishing completely, she turned her head and smiled at Morpheus.

The sight of it left Dream slightly breathless, and he stood there until she was gone.

The Waking World was brighter than usual. The sun shone a little brighter, the sky wore a beautiful blue, and the air was playful.

In the park, Morpheus looked out of place. His long black coat and dark raven hair made him standout, and yet, not a single human looked his way.

The Endless looked around the park, his icy eyes narrowing on a woman playing with a child.

His hands behind his back, Morpheus walked towards the duo.

“You have to stop biting my hand, lovely. You have teeth now, it hurts.”

The child stared at the woman with big, round eyes. His small hands were clenched into fits and his smile was lopsided.

Morpheus stood behind the woman and stared at the child with slightly softer eyes. Children had a soft place in Morpheus's mind.

“Y/n.”

Y/n turned and smiled at him. It was unchanged, familiar, and it settled the turbulence in his heart.

“Morpheus.”

Y/n said his name like she could not believe he was standing before her. She patted the grass next to the child. “Come, sit.”

Y/n turned back to the child, missing his look of contempt. As he sat, Morpheus made eye contact with the child who stared at him with newfound curiosity.

Spreading his coat dramatically around him, Morpheus sat rigidly, his hands in his lap.

“The child…”

Y/n laughed before patting the child on the cheek.

“This is my great-great-great-great grandson. It was a beautiful day and I wanted to spend time with him.”

“Your family knows?”

Y/n nodded, making a face at the child that made him burst into heavy giggles. “Yes and no. Most do, but we lie to the others. I have one of those faces, you see.” She said her last sentence with a soft smirk.

Morpheus took a moment to bask in the sun. He did not spend a lot of time in the Waking World, preferring his realm over it, but he could appreciate a good day.

“Are you…” Morpheus licked his lips, uncomfortable. Y/n turned to him, giving him all her attention. “Alright?”

Y/n knew what he spoke of, and her heart warmed at his concern. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. After her last visit in The Dreaming, she had many restless nights, but after a handful of days, she found herself sleeping soundlessly.

“I am. I realized that I am still me, and being the daughter of Bast does not change anything.” She pursed her lips, turning to Morpheus. “Does it?”

“No,” Morpheus responded. “Your touch awoke the city which means that Bast’s followers will now be able to dream.”

“Sounds like you will become very busy.”

Morpheus did not need to see the flicker of disappointment in Y/n’s eyes to know that he had heard it.

The child reached for Morpheus’s hand, and before Y/n could slap it away, Morpheus extended his hand until the child grabbed his long, pale finger.

Morpheus gently moved his finger to the left and then the right, his lips lifting into a small smile at the sound of the child’s laughter.

Y/n watched with wide eyes, memorizing the interaction. It warmed her heart and the pit of her stomach and she wished to never forget it.

“I will have time for you,” Morpheus whispered. His words were so soft, carried by the wind. He almost worried she did not hear them.

But Y/n’s lifted into a soft, unknown smile, and he knew they had.

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ℌ𝔬𝔭𝔢: 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔲𝔰 𝔵 𝔉𝔢𝔪!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

Chapter Two: Illusions

credit goes to: @nebulosa-reina @boobalaloosa-simblr for coming up with this

«warning: angst : dream being sad : Hell:»

previous chapter > next chapter

A/n: using they/them pronouns for Lucifer. Italics are flashbacks but the ones mixed with non are the illusions of y/n speaking Nada is in this. This kinda is filler and majority is word for word hope In hell.

Dream knelt down placing a flower on her grave. As he stared at stared at the tomb stone, “You didn’t deserve such a fate.” He said, as he looked at her grave.

“To be killed by my own creation.” He continued. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. Maybe if I’d spoke you’d still be here.” He said, blaming himself for the fate that befell her.

He wasn’t going to let her life go in vain. He was going to find a destroy the Corinthian. Especially, now once he retrieves his tools back.

(Y/n)’s giggles, echoed throughout Dream’s mind. It was an illusion he made of (Y/n) when she returned from boarding school. He could finally touch her hand, a smile grew across her lips.

“I missed you.” She said, smiling at him. He knew this wasn’t right but the amount of guilt eating him up inside. “I missed you too.” He replied, and she smiled as if hearing his voice for the first time.

“So after all this time. You’ve finally decided to speak.” She giggled, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry, I thought your father was using you to get information.” He said, and she looked at him.

“I don’t blame you for thinking that.” She replied, looking away then turning back towards her, god this felt so wrong to him.

“I’ve always loved listening to you read. Showing me your toys, and art you’ve drawn.” He says, and she smiles leaning against his arm.

“Seeing you, made those years I saw you while inside the glass cage. bearable. Hearing your dreams.” He said, placing a hand over hers and she looked into his eyes.

“Even when I never spoke to you. You still came back.” He said, and rubbed his thumb against the palm of her hand.

“And, the only way I repaid you was by watching as my creation murdered you in your sleep.” He said, pulling back.

She looked at him, “It wasn’t your fault.” She said, he knew that wasn’t truly her saying it just an illusion. He stopped the illusion and shuddered under his breath.

Even after his escape seeing her room. The illusions none of it was helping the guilt eating him up inside. When he arrived and found her grave in the garden of Wych Cross, he almost didn’t want to believe.

He needed to get his mind off her even if it was for a moment. He needed to find his helm next, for he’d already got his sand. Next was Hell, to find the demon who had his helm.

‘It has many names. Avernus, Tartarus, Hades, the infernal region you call Hell.’

Dream arrived in Hell alongside Matthew, and it wasn’t a place any human would want to end up.

“So, Hell does exist?” Matthew said. “It does. For some.” Dream replied.

“Does that mean it doesn't exist if you don't believe in it?” Matthew asked, looking up at Dream. “Did you believe in it? When you were a man?” Dream asked, looking off in the distance.

Matthew sighed, “Yeah. I just didn't expect Hell to be cold. So, which way do we go?” Matthew asked, and Dream noticed the damned souls.

“I suggest we follow the damned” Dream replied, and Matthew noticed them carrying their own fire to Hell. “They make you bring your own fire to Hell?” He said in shock.

They arrived at the gates of Hell, “We're not sneaking in with them?” He asked, watching as the dammed entered.

“A king may not enter another monarch's realm uninvited. There are rules, protocols which must be followed.” Dream replied, and Matthew caws as he follows Dream towards the gate.

Dream walked up towards the gong. A damned moved it’s head and held the mallet up towards him. He took it slowly and banged it against the gong. A demon exhales heavily, as they walked towards the gates.

“There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation. Is it thief, thug or whοre?” The demon says, continuing to walk towards the gate. “There's one at the door. And there's room for one more. Till the end of creation.” They say, then stops when the demons sees Dream and chuckles.

“Greetings, Squatterbloat. I seek an audience with your sovereign.” Dream says, and the demon named Squatterbloat chuckles.

“And who might you be?” Squatterbloat asked, looking at him. “I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms.” Dream says, and the demon looks at him mockingly.

“Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown?”Squatterbloat says mockingly. Dream scoffs, “Guard your tongue, demon.” He says.

“The Ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honored guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own.” He says, looking at the demon.

“So where's your ruby?” Squatterbloat asks, and Dream looks at him. Stepping closer to the gate, “Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too? Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through?” Dream says, and Squatterbloat looks at him for a moment. Then grabs the keys and unlocks the gate.

“Now, take us to the palace.” Dream finishes, and Squatterbloat turns leading them towards the palace, “There's one at the door. There's one at the door. There's one at the door.” Squaterbloat repeats.

Dream and Matthew follow Squatterbloat, through the cold and vast landscapes of Hell. “Any idea where we are?” Matthew asked, looking around.

“The landscape is subject to the whims of the Morningstar.” Dream replied. “The morning star? We have to spend the night in this literally godforsaken-”

“Lucifer Morningstar.” Dream interrupted, looking down at the Raven.

“As in the Devil?” Matthew whispered. “The Ruler of Hell is no mere devil.” Dream said, making sure they’re still following Squatterbloat. “So, you two know each other?” Matthew asked, curiously.

“We've known each other for a very long time. When we first met, Lucifer was the angel Samael.” Dream said, and Matthew looked towards the demon.

“I forgot the Devil used to be an angel.” Matthew said. “Not just any angel. The most beautiful, wisest, and most powerful of all angels. Saving only the Creator, Lucifer is, perhaps, the most powerful being there is.” Dream said, looking forward. “More powerful than you?” Matthew asked, looking at him. “By far. Especially now.” Dream replied.

Matthew turned to look up at him, “Why now?” He asked. “The last time I was here, I was an honored guest. An envoy from my own kingdom.” Dream says, as they walk through the smoke and fog. Slowly Squatterbloat began to disappear in the smoke and fog.

“This time, I have invited myself, and I lack my symbols of office.” He finishes. “But you're still Dream of The Endless, right? You got your sand.” Matthew asked. Dream stopped looking she’d and not seeing Squatterbloat, “What's wrong?” He asked.

“Squatterbloat. He's gone.” Dream said, as he looked around. Matthew looked up at him, “All right, don't panic. I'm just gonna fly up and see where we are.” Matthew says, flying up then immediately flying back down.

“Nope, nope. Not doing that.” He says. Dream looks up seeing the sounds of people groaning and the branches creaking, as they moved moaning and wailing in agony.

Squatterbloat growls, as he reappears through the mist. “This way.” Squatterbloat grunts. They continued to follow him and ended up on the side of a crumbling building. “Does this seem like the way to the palace to you?” Matthew asked.

“A demon has a hundred motives for anything he does. All of them malevolent.” Dream says, and he looks towards the demon. “Demon.” He calls out, and Squatterbloat growls.

“This is not the way.” Dream says, and the demon turns his head around to look at him, and just chuckles. Looking forward against and continuing to walk. Dream was starting to walk when, “Kai'ckul” a woman’s voice said, one for which he’s hadn’t heard in eons.

He freezes hearing the woman breathing heavily, “Dream Lord?” She gasps, walking closer towards the throned up window. “It is you.” She says in awe.

He looks towards her, “I greet you, Nada.” He says, looking at his ex-lover from eons long gone. “Kai'ckul.How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come.” She says, looking at him.

“It pains me to see you like this.” He says, to her and she looks at him. “Then, free me, Lord. Only your forgiveness can free me.” She pleads, looking at him as a single tear rolls down her cheeks.

“Do you not still love me?” She asks, looking at him.

“It has been 10,000 years, Nada.” He replies. “Yes. I still love you. But I have not yet forgiven you.” He says, he did love her but held no romantic feelings anymore. Those long since gone. His heart belongs to (Y/n) but he could never have that either. For she is gone.

“Come, Matthew.” Dream said, starting to walk passed Nada. Leaving her there in hell, “Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope. I will never give up.” She shouts. As the demon snarls softly.

“So, that woman back there.” Matthew asked, as they continued to follow Squatterbloat. “Anything you wanna share with your friend Matthew?” He asks. “Her name is Nada. She was the ruler of a tribe that call themselves the First People. We were in love.” Dream says, as they continued to follow the demon.

“So what did she do? How'd she end up here?” Matthew asked. “She defied me.” Dream replied. “Wait. You put her here?” Matthew asked, in shock.

“The Morningstar is letting me know that Hell has prepared for my visit.” Dream says, and stops seeing the palace. “Why are we stopping?” Matthew asked. “We're here.” Dream says.

He walked the path leading up towards the palace of Hell. The door opened for him and he entered, arriving at the top of the palace. Where Lucifer stood, “Hello.” Lucifer greeted, turning around towards Dream. Walking down the stairs and towards him, “Hello, Dream.” They said, once again.

“Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar.” Dream says, looking at Lucifer. “And to you, Mazikeen of the Lillim.” He says.

“Greetings, Dream Lord. You look well, Dream. Are you well?” They ask, looking at him. “And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?” They added.

“I presumethe Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call.” He says. “Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours?” They ask, looking at him. “To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?” They asks.

“You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer.” He says. “Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals. We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus.” Lucifer said, to him.

“I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me. I believe one of your demons has it.” He explains to Lucifer. “I should like it back.” He says.

“Now.” He says.

“Dream, if only it were that easy. But there are rules, you see. Protocols which must be followed.” Lucifer said to him, “Which demon has your helm? Name it and we will bring it here.” They said.

“I confess I do not know the name.” Dream says. “Then we will have to summon all of them.” Lucifer says, as they summon all the demons in hell.

“There, now, Dream, you may inquire. Which demon has your helmet?” They says. “Shall we interview them one at a time, or...”

“That won't be necessary.” He says.

“It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied upon your tools.” They say.

“But tools are the subtlest of traps. We become reliant upon them and in their absence we are vulnerable, weak, defenseless.”

“Not entirely. I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell and now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me.” He says, as he pours his sand on the ground.

He knelt on the ground using his powers as his and swirls around him, as a demon is summoned. Holding his helm, “Tell me your name, demon.” Dream asks, the demon looks towards Lucifer.

“Do I have to tell him?” The demon asks. “That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell.” Lucifer says. “Choronzon... The helm is mine. You must return it to me.” Dream says, to him.

“No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws. And if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it.” Choronzon says. And Dream looks at him, “Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon.” Dream says, and The demon chuckles.

“You know the rules, Dream Lord.” Choronzon says, looking at Dream.

“If I win, you will return my helmet.” Dream says. “And if you lose, you'll serve as my slave in Hell for eternity.” Choronzon says. “I accept the terms.” Dream says, and Matthew caws.

“And whom will you choose to represent you in the battle?” Lucifer asks.

“I shall represent myself.” Dream responded. “Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?” Lucifer asks.

“Hmm... I choose you, sire.” Choronzon says, with a smile.

“Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion.” Lucifer says to him.

“But if you would not fight me.” They say, and he turns towards the demon behind him, “I have accepted the terms. Let the challenge begin.” Dream finishes.

“Oh, I’ve almost forgotten.” Lucifer says, and turns towards Mazikeen. “Mazikeen, why don’t you fetch our guest.” They said, a smile on their face.

“A guest I’m sure Dream would love to meet.” They finished. Dream raised his left eyebrow confused. They couldn’t be talking about Nada. He still hasn’t forgiven her and he doesn’t know if he ever will.

Even then his heart yearns for another know but she was taken from him. The guilt of his failure still ate him up inside, “Hey, what’s the big idea!” A familiar voice shouted, from the dark hallway of Lucifer’s palace.

Dream’s gaze immediately drifted towards the hallway. “I’ve said no to their advances countless times!” The voice shouted. It becoming louder and more clearer.

“Do you know what no means?” They asked sarcastically. Dream’s lips parted slightly his eyes widened, “No, it couldn’t be.” He thought. From the shadows Mazikeen brought out (Y/n).

“It means-” She stopped, her eyes widened as she looked at him. Her lips parted into an ‘oh’. “Dream.” She gasped, in shock hearing his name roll off her tongue.

What cruel trick is this?

#fanfic #x reader #angst #headcanons #fluff #romance #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus x y/n #morpheus imagines #morpheus x reader

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