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dreamdaddymorpheus · 2 years

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from dusk till dawn | morpheus x ancient vampire!reader

pairing: morpheus x ancient vampire!reader summary: Morpheus journeys to Hell to reclaim what is his...and his helm, he supposed. Lucifer is disgusted. warning: mentions of bl o o d, slight accidental d a ddy k*nk tbh, no beta we die like jessamy. a/n: also someone tell me why do I keep pairing Dream with unhinged women? lmao altho ngl this is giving brat tamer dream oopsie

“You have recovered your helm, dear Morpheus, I wonder why you linger still?” Lucifer Morningstar was arguably one of the most beautiful beings in existence – their graceful countenance marred only by the transparent derision they held for the King of Dreams and Nightmares. Or daughter-stealer as they would often call him in the privacy of their chambers. “I guarantee you safe conduct. You are free to return to your realm and sort your affairs, I’m certain there is much to do after…a century, was it?”

Morpheus merely smiled, ever serene and somewhat nonchalant, “You still yet possess another that which belongs to me.” He knew the result those words would bring, and he watched with slight amusement when black wings rippled with indignation. “I have also come to rectify that.”

“The gall.” The words came in a snarl through trembling lips and gritted teeth, laced with pure venomous intent. How this grim and fatalistic cradle robber succeeded in charming Hell’s progeny, the apple of their eye, escapes Lucifer even to this day. “You overstep, Dream lord. What you claim to be yours is beyond that even of the Endless.” For you were not a small existence to be trifled with, even if you were foolish enough to give your heart to one so beneath you.

With pursed lips, Morpheus looked on coldly, “Do you intend to keep me from her, Lightbringer?” He challenged with a raised brow, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I assure you that would be unwise.”

Lucifer considered the Endless, watched with scrutinizing eyes for any sign of deception. Any sign of a ruse to lead him to you. “And pray tell, Dream of the Endless, why that would be?” They allowed a hint of amusement to slip into their tone, mocking almost. As if anything in the universe could justify such a reunion.

“Has she fed as of late?” The certainty in which those words were delivered, and the accompanying smirk startled the Ruler of Hell. No, no you have not. You have refused all offerings and has secluded yourself in your palace, alone. This has baffled your progenitor to near madness for almost a century—

Morpheus watched the realization dawn on their face, his own smile widening at the very sight of it. One does not simply elude a child of the All-Mighty and to do so successfully was a high on its own. He shouldn’t enjoy it too much – especially when he intends to make a family out of Lucifer Morningstar yet. “Well, Lightbringer?” He mocked.

“What does that have to do you with you?” Gone were all false courtesies, replaced with such coldness it could very well freeze Hell over.

Morpheus dropped his smile then, features shifting to that of great solemnity, “We each took a vow. I pledged to surrender to her mercy, and she pledged to feed no more on innocent blood.” The explanation was simple, too simple, but true, “It seems she has kept her word.” There was pride in his voice as well as affection, proud for what you have endured to keep your oath. He intends to keep his.

Lucifer couldn’t decide whether to rage at the fact that you have entered such a covenant or at the fact that you have not disclosed your hold over the King of Dreams and Nightmares to them. Foolish child. If only they did not adore you so. “You will right this, Morpheus.” They commanded in a tone that brokered no argument.

Dream of the Endless, accompanied by Lucifer themselves, followed the black marbled floors and cavernous walls of your palace. A quick glance through one of the lancet windows dotted along on either side of him showed the familiar sight of the eternal night of your realm with the moon perpetually high and full in the midnight skies.

At the end of this coiling halls was what seemed to be an ordinary wall adorned with a stained glass depicting the fable of Lilith, the rebellious first wife of Adam. How very fitting for you, indeed. He took a moment to ponder over an image of you as a rebellious wife and couldn’t stop the smile curling his lips. He was certain you would fight him tooth and nail over anything simply for the thrill of fighting him.

Lucifer to his side, however, could only roll their eyes at the Endless’ soft countenance. They didn’t need to be a mind reader to know his thoughts. “Make no mistake, Morpheus. You are here to end this juvenile accord with my daughter.”

Morpheus refused to acknowledge the warning and merely kept his eyes forward as they came to a stop before the decorated wall.

“Sanguis vita est.” As the commanding voice of the fallen divine filled the silent halls – a large, crystalized serpent rose from the marbled floors and slithered its way along the stained glass to form an arch and reveal an intricate set of doors that towered above them.

“I tire of your offerings, your grace.” Came a hoarse voice from behind the doors, dry and strained, before either could make their presence known.

Lucifer let out a resigned sigh at your usual display of indomitable will. It would have been admirable if they weren’t so anguished by your self-inflicted suffering.

Morpheus, on the other hand, felt himself freeze on the spot. There was a time when he thought he may never see you again and yet here you were with only a wall to impede your union. Without a word, he pushed open the doors to your chambers and allowed his eyes to wander – slowly taking in the high ceiling and the enormous rose window facing the four-poster bed against the wall with red velvet covers and fluffy pillows haphazardly thrown here and everywhere. His eyes rest on the black velvet chaise situated in the centre of the room where he found you on your back, head hanging over the edge and your tresses pooling on the floor like a river, blood shot eyes staring directly at him.

You let out a derisive laugh at the sight of your unwanted visitors, “That,” You raised a finger to point at what looked to be identical to your lover, “is low, even for you.”

“That,” Mimicked your progenitor, “is not my doing.”

Morpheus watched you rise and turn to prowl with practiced grace, “The resemblance— is frightfully uncanny.” He noted the dark circles in the banks of your eyes, a stark contrast to the ghostly pallor of your complexion, but dare he say the way you purred could bring him to his knees. His eyes remained firmly on you as you leaned forward and audibly inhaled, moaning at the scent of him, “You smell just like him—” He could see the conflict reflected in the glassy sheen of your eyes, dry lips parted slightly as though drinking him in as your hands reached hesitantly for his face, pausing just an inch away.

Then you wrenched yourself away, crashing against the furniture in your way until you felt the cold, hard wall pressed against your back. “Leave!” You roared, angry and pained, sliding down to the floor and pulling your knees against your chest, “Take your temptation with you! I have no want nor need for it!”

He never once doubted you, but to witness the decisive rejection of the chance to quench what Morpheus could only imagine to be immense hunger left him feeling the true weight of his absence. To witness you in this state, so far from the proud, preening princess of Hell –- there was no pride or boost to his ego, just an ever-present ache in his chest.

Lucifer merely looked weary, like a parent forced to endure their offspring’s childish outburst. A tantrum.

Morpheus turned to address the winged being beside him, “Perhaps you should give us a moment, Lightbringer.”

Lucifer looked ready to challenge him at first, but a look of consideration flashed on their features before they rolled their eyes and made to leave, though not without another warning, “Do not test my generosity, Morpheus.”

Dream reached inside the darkness of his robes and produced an ornate dagger, “You have endured well, my stars.” He wrapped one hand around the blade while the other pulled the hilt in one swift motion, Endless ichor oozing and dripping from the wound. He dropped his hands to his side as he approached you, leaving a trail of his essence to drip behind him and fill the space with his scent, tempting you away from your defensive pose on the floor.

You recognized him then despite the haziness in your vision – his scent was singular, unlike any other, so much so you were willing to give up all and any but his. You longed to give in, to rush into his arms and devour him whole. A century, however, was not so easily forgotten.

Morpheus blinked only once before he felt himself thrown across the room, his neck held in a chokehold by a pale hand attached to his snarling lover, “You abandoned me!” You cried, launching him once more to the furthest wall. “You traitorous bastard!” His heart ached at the unadulterated hurt in your voice – though he didn’t have to wait long before your entire countenance shifted back to raging fury. He watched you break a post off your bed and could only dodge when you hurled it at him. “H-How could you—” Angry tears broke through your defences, your hands clawing at the spot where your heart should be until the skin there was red and raw, “I-I waited for you—like a fool! You—” and in a small voice, vulnerable and broken, you whispered, “—you never came for me.”

He murdered Roderick Burgess a hundred thousand times in his mind’s eye in that very moment, in the few seconds it took to watch you fall to your knees in utter devastation. His mortal death was not enough for this transgression -- he deserved the deepest, darkest parts of Hell that even Lucifer Morningstar themselves would not dare to thread.

Morpheus took slow, but sure, measured steps towards you, feeling his own eyes burning, “Do you truly believe I would forsake you so?” The pain betrayed the edge in his voice. “—that my love and devotion to you are frivolous? That I did not ache and hunger for you also?” He was angry, frustrated, with you, with himself, even with fucking Destiny – him and his stupid book.

Dream hardened his heart at the face of your stubborn refusal to look at him – obstinate as ever, he would take comfort in that at least. “Cease your childish tantrums. You have not fed for a century.” He pointed out coldly, retreating behind a callous exterior – a poor attempt, really, for the tender way he scooped you up into his arms soothed the sting of his words. He moved to sit down on the chaise you previously occupied and situated you on his lap so you would be straddling him, his arms tight around your waist. “Will you feed yourself or must I force you?”

You huffed petulantly, looking away momentarily before catching his gaze again just to blatantly roll your eyes. “I should have taken Desire up on their offer, I’m certain they’d quench my thirst well eno—.” You yelped in surprise when his palm landed on your bottom while his other hand pulled the roots of your hair until it was your throat that was exposed to him.

“I should like to see you try, my stars. I would very much enjoy making them watch me claim what they will never have.” His words achieved their intended purpose when he heard you let out a breathy moan. “Will you behave?” He growled against your throat, purring when you whispered a submissive yes. “There’s my princess.” He praised affectionately, releasing his hold on your hair to tenderly brush his fingers through them instead. Morpheus leaned back slightly, tilting his head to the side to present his neck to you.

Being this close to his warmth had your mouth quite literally watering, your insides clenching in anticipation for that first gulp. You leaned forward until the tip of your nose touched the tender flesh on his neck, ever so soft and unblemished. Your tongue darted out to blindly search for that special spot you knew would taste the sweetest, letting out a triumphant hum when you found it instinctively. You moaned his name, wanton and needy, before you bit down and ruptured the skin on his neck until you felt and tasted that thick, syrup-like substance.

He watched you curled over him, suckling softly at the wound while emitting a purr from the back of your throat. He may never admit it aloud, but he found you most beautiful in moments like these, when your hunger and desperation for him was at its highest. When you were so lost in his taste that you don’t even notice the slight rocking motions you made against him while sat on his lap.

This has always been an intimate act between you both, either resulting in making love or was the result of making love. To experience it again after a century, when he once thought all hope was lost, was simply euphoric. Morpheus made no attempt to hide his arousal, tightening his grip around you as he sinks further into the chaise, eyes drifting close to savour this moment, this feeling. There would be time for explanations and apologies later.

Meanwhile outside your chambers…

I may vomit, Lucifer thought.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dream x reader #dream x you #the sandman imagines #dream imagines #morpheus imagines #tag:my work

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certifiedskywalker · 1 year

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O' Sweet Simplicity - Dream of The Endless

Lord Morpheus does not often indulge, but, when he does, he does with you.

“Coffee? Tea?” You paused, teasingly. “Me?”

A chuckle rumbled up his throat before he recognized the sound as such. How long had it been since he last let his joy be heard? How long had it been since he last felt a joy so potent to stir up such a sound? The Lord of Dreams could not recall.

“It is not often that I have to choose between varying degrees of goodness,” he said his low voice breaking through the lingering chuckle caught in his otherwise chronically mirthless throat. “It is not often that I have to choose.”

“Well,” you said, titling on your toes to turn towards him, eyes brightened by your smile. “I’ll make things a little easier for you. Come over here a choose a flavor of tea.”

With the faintest hints of a smile playing on his lips, Morpheus started over towards you. His tread was quiet, bare feet padding against the malleable floor of your Dream. This time, it appeared as an apartment. Sleek and modern save for the scattered trinkets that were you. Morpheus merely filled in the empty spaces.

Like around your waist. There, Morpheus put his arms.

“That is not what I would have chosen.”

You hummed and Morpheus felt the sound bloom as he pulled your back flush to his chest. “Well, then next time, I imagine there will be a little less lip and more choosing.”

Next time. It sounded like a promise. One unmoored and unable to be truly kept, unable to be truly broken. You said it each time he visited you. So, he knew what was coming next.

Lucidity.

Morpheus pressed his face into the crook of your neck. Soft lips pressed into soft flesh, and you careened into the touch. Your head rested atop his with his hair tickling your skin whenever he moved to kiss an untraced spot. Another hum sounded up your throat and Morpheus let the tip of his nose brush against your jaw as he pulled away.

Chasing after him, his touch, you turned in Morpheus’ arms. A pair of glittering, blue eyes were fixed on you, seeing through you, the veil of a Dream. He wondered then, how he appeared to you. Did he look like his chosen form or someone from your past?

Soon, his wondering would matter not.

“You know, I don’t mind this lip,” you murmured, leaning up towards him. Your breath danced along his skin and your hands rested on his bare shoulders for support as you drew in closer. When at last your mouth met his in a perfect seal, Morpheus savored the feeling. His being bled into yours in the truest sense of Endless. It made it so that, when your eyes fluttered closed in time with his, you both saw the cosmos.

His hands felt cool as he rested them on the sides of your warm face. Slender fingers cupped your cheeks with such a tender reverence. He held you like glass as your Dream slipped from his grasp and fully into yours. There it was. He felt it in how your lips moved against his like there was no longer space for him to fill.

Slowly, you pulled away from Morpheus, and so were the last bits of Dream pulled away too. Your hands moved up from his shoulders and skirted about his pronounced collarbone. A swift breath fell from Morpheus’ lips when your palm pressed against his throat.

“You’re awake.”

“Am I?” You asked, tone sharp and fingers tracing the peaks of his pale face as you did each time you broke free. “You only visit when I’m dreaming and you’re still here. Tell me, do you prefer me docile in my Dream or when I’m aware like this?”

Morpheus bit his tongue before his old ways of bitterness fell from the tip of it. At his silence, your hands fell from his face and to your sides, empty. A scowl had replaced the smile you wore before, but it carried a similar heat. With lucidity came the shedding of pretense.

“Well? Which is it?”

“It is not often that I have to choose.”

You let out a huff at his echoed words. “At least tell me why you come back. Why?”

Morpheus glanced around the apartment. Despite your lucidity, the original setting of your Dream remained intact. Even the pieces he curated stayed situated between your trinkets and bobbles. How easily you could erase each trace of him from your Dream, your home; but you chose not to, you chose to keep him around.

“Your Dreams are of such simplicity. A late morning or early night, but always shared.”

“Shared with whatever face you wear before I wake up.”

“But you’re not awake, as you pointed out,” Morpheus mused, craning his neck down towards you. “You chose to stay here, even after you become aware.”

“I like it here,” you countered.

Morpheus leaned in closer until he felt your breath dance along his skin again in a waltz. “You chose me. You keep me here until you truly wake.”

“I like you. I think.”

He loomed now, arms snaking about your waist once more. No space for him made he had no choice but to invade yours. “You think?”

“I do.”

“You are the Master of your Dream now,” Morpheus pressed. “You should know.”“And you, the Master of every other Dream, know?”

He did, but he bit his tongue again. It was you who had to choose. Morpheus had already made his choice. He had made it the first time he indulged in your lucid dreaming. Power was out of his hands, and, for the first time, he found himself enjoying it.

“Well, then let’s not wait until next time.”

Soft lips met soft flesh again, and the Dream changed. The apartment kitchen melted into a bedroom full of space for just the two of you.

#dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fanfiction #lord morpheus #lord morpheus imagine #lord morpheus x reader #lord morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine #morpheus imagines #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #the sandman #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Some touch starved morpheus stuff cuz we all know he is and since he can’t ask for shit he’s gonna revert to cat form to get what he wants.

Morpheus is incredibly touch starved, this is what many would call an undisputed fact. He’s an endless and therefore means that there has never been a moment in his life where he was ever blessed with the sweet embrace of a tender, loving hug nor the comforting squeeze when holding another’s hand.

Needless to say that he was perplexed when he found himself wandering within the depths of his mind, craving in silence of its feel within your arms. Did you run cold? or did you run warm? Would you allow him to rest his weary head against the comforting counsel of your heart? Or would you prefer to rest yours upon his instead? Were you the type to snuggle closely so that every part of your body was pressed flushed against his own and yet crave to be even closer? Head pressed into the crevice of his neck, pressing featherlight kisses there on occasion to remind him of your presence.

Were you what humans called a big spoon or a little spoon? How that was related to cuddling morpheus had no clue and sometimes questioned humans for their…interesting choice of words for specific actions. They were…peculiar to say the least. Did you wish to be held or wish to hold him as you both laid comfortably beneath a cosy blanket as you fought against the weight of sleep weighing upon your eyelids gradually overtime, easing you into a vulnerable state of slumber.

These thoughts clouded the dream lords mind as he went about his tasks as king, disrupting him from his work that he would often remember old romance books he’s read during the height of their publication and replace the protagonist and their love interest with you and him without realising it until caught on the receiving end of an concern Lucienne’s gaze.

“My lord, are you alright?” She’d ask and each and every time was greeted with similar responses. “I’m quite alright, the state of my health isn’t of concern to anyone then myself.” Afterwards came Lucienne’s unconvinced stare but she knew firsthand how unbearably stubborn Morpheus is and decided that since he was a fully grown man capable of dealing with his own issues, it would be best if she left him to it and concentrate on her own pile of work to complete. Morpheus was incapable of asking for help or advice for the matter unless he was physically brought down to his knees due to his insufferable pride.

That pride had proven to be a hindrance on multiple occasions and that was no different when the lord of dreams and nightmares tried to muster up the courage in asking you for affection he desperately craved. Yet he’d always seem to backpedal from actually asking and instead waited for the moments where you were least aware of his motives that he thought were increasingly childish of a being such as himself.

Things such as holding your hand whenever crossing passable riverbanks, streams and small shallow lakes by broken bridges he had yet to repair sooner or later if you weren’t already invading every possible space within his heart, soul and mind at every given moment. Keeping his hand at the small of your back when walking through crowed spaces under the pretence that he didn’t wish for you to be swept away from his line of sight. To even his shoulder pressing against your own ever so briefly as you walked through the vast gardens of his palace together.

‘Innocent coincidence’ was what they were called but to you it sounded oddly as though he was covering something up you have yet to brush off the vail of mystery of. So one day as you sat beneath the shade of the palace, eyes just about ready to flutter to a close when a sound caught your ears, causing you to peel open your eyes wide enough to see what you presumed to be a cat like figure sat in front of you.

You’d say cat but this cat was bigger then any cat you’ve ever seen, the closest you could compare it to size wise was that of a main coon but even then that didn’t seem quite right. It’s fur dark was as midnight, it’s eyes glowed within the shade; giving it a more supernatural and or ethereal ambiance about the creature of unknown origin because as far as you were aware morpheus didn’t keep cats about the palace.

However your mind was too foggy to make sense of how the cat got here nor where it came from as you immediately drew the creature into your lap, not questioning how almost eagerly the cat seemed to respond to your actions and bundled itself against your chest, purring contently, as it’s eyes slide to a close and you swore that you could see it smile.

Again you were on the verge of sleep so it was hard to make out what exactly you were seeing constitutes as reality. Instead wishing to get straight to dreaming, unaware that you were holding the lord of dreams within your lap the entire time.

Taglist: @mess-in-side @mm2305 @blossomedfloweroflove @dinonuggett @murnsondock

#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 fic #morpheus imagine #morpheus imagines #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morephus imagine

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callmemaeverick · 2 years

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Haven [Dream of the Endless x Reader]

A/N: I know I posted about something I wanted to write. But I decided to KIV that fic for now. Instead, I got inspired for this. This fic is too long so I separated it. It could be a two-parter, or multi-chap. IDK yet. Supposed to be GN!reader, but do let me know if there’s something overly descriptive.

Summary: You had never truly found a place you belong in. Your only escape were into the stories you watched, read or wrote. Then one day, you found yourself in a library, with a completed book of your unfinished story. Words: 936 ~ All your life, you never truly fit anywhere. Sure, you had a lot of friends growing up. You were able to adapt your personality to meet the expectations of many groups of people and interact with them without issue. It has helped you in school and it has helped you as an adult.

But still, you have never felt truly at home.

The closest you have felt to absolute peace and safety, was when you are engrossed in a story, whether it be from watching the telly, reading a book or writing it out yourself.

It was the way you would escape when the crippling loneliness of your life got too much for you. Some of your family members would tut about and chide you, saying that you had your head in the clouds too much. They did not know it was the only way to keep you sane.

xxxx

You didn't know how you got there, but the library was exquisite. Shelves upon shelves of books as far as your eye could see. There were spiralling staircases going up stories to fit the expansive number of tomes and there were little nooks that housed cubbies and comfy chairs for one to sit and read.

It was quiet and empty and there were birds chirping at the windows. You took a deep, deep breath, letting the smell of paper and leather, of wood and the crackling fire fill you up to the brim.

It felt like home, you thought.

Smiling to yourself, you wandered about, fingers trailing worn out spines while you peruse titles. Some of them were familiar, some were utterly foreign. You were not really focusing on what you were looking for, until a leather-bound book caught your eye.

There was no title, but the authors name gave you halt. You frowned as you flipped the book open and read its contents.

The more you read, the more it did and didn't make sense. You knew these characters, knew this world depicted in the pages. The writing style was so unique, so familiar, it could have only been from your own fingers. But you did not remember writing it so... completely.

"You should not be here."

You jumped almost a foot in the air at the sound of that voice, the book in your hand flying.

The... man that stood before you was... different, you knew instantly. It may be his pallor, white as a sheet of paper, or it might be his wild unruly, raven black hair. But for sure, it was the hypnotic way his irises danced in the warm lighting of the library, like the cosmos filled with billions of galaxies.

Alarm bells began ringing in your head.

"Wh- What do you mean?"

The man, being, stepped forward and you instinctively stepped back. He seemed powerful. And worse, he seemed upset at seeing you.

"How did you get here?"

"I- uhm- I ..." You frowned when your mind came up blank as you try to recall your past. The furthest you remember was being in the library, surrounded by books. You turned to him, panic rising in your chest. "I don’t... I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember?"

Hands on your shoulders felt grounding as your companion tried for your attention. "Be calm," He called your name. How he knew it escaped you. "You are dreaming."

You shrugged him off. "What are you talking about? What is going on here? Why is-" you bent down to pick up the book. Your book. "Why does this book exist? I never wanted to publish it. Hell, I hadn't even finished it."

The man froze when he heard you. "Wait, you've read it? You were able to read that?"

"What? Of course, I could read it! What I want to know was how is it finished? Because I never did."

He looked at you for a long time, staring at you as if he could see into your very soul. And then, he introduced himself.

When he told you his name, you had very well laughed in his face. Until you saw that he was entirely serious. Then, he told you about the library and where exactly it was, where you were.

"Oh, come on now. This has gone too far." You cut him off. "I’m willing to call you Morpheus. Maybe your parents had a thing for Greek mythology or the Matrix or something. But you can't expect me to believe that this place is a Dream plane and I just happened to unknowingly cross through an invisible threshold."

"Then how do you explain your inability to recall how you arrived here?" He challenged. "Or how your book, one that you had not yet finished, nor intend to publish, came to be in my library."

"I- But that's- that's impossible. There is no way that-"

You gasped awake in your bed, the force of your inhale pulling up upright. The room was dark save for the light of your candle warmer. Your room was exactly as you left it before you went to bed, except for the now familiar tall and dark figure in the corner of your room.

"Holy sh-"

You scrambled up onto your bed, in an attempt to put as much distance between you and the Lord of Dreams. As much distance as there was in your small room.

"You're real."

Dream stepped closer, to the edge of your mattress, hands in his pockets. "I am."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "What is going on?"

"That is what I intend to find out.” ~ [Part 2]

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman imagines #mav's posts

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ichorai · 1 year

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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.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #the sandman x reader #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #morpheus fanfic #morpheus x you #the sandman morpheus x reader #the sandman fluff #morpheus fluff #morpheus angst #the sandman angst #morpheus imagines #morpheus drabbles #morpheus smut #the sandman smut #the sandman imagines #the sandman drabbles

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lilpunkrock · 2 years

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where you go (i will go) — part viii

Summary: You find kinship with a fellow immortal, then are presented with a gift...and a threat.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Word Count: 6.6k+

AN: It's a long one, lovelies! I hope you all enjoy the angst and fun in equal measure. As always, thank you all for your support!

. . .

“I don’t know, I just can feel it in the atmosphere;

And if I’m wandering, I’ve wandered into just the right spot.

You are the fire inside me, you are the reason I dream;

And just for when we’re apart, I’ve got a piece of your heart.”

Piece of Your Heart, Mayday Parade

. . .

part viii

“You know, you don’t have to check on me as you do.”

“What, you don’t like my visits? I’m hurt.”

You roll your eyes at Death’s feigned insult, her mock gasp of hurt. The two of you stand side-by-side amidst rows of tombstones, unseen spectators to the funeral taking place several yards away. A green storge attachment glows brightly between a father and son, rekindled with the passing of their wife and mother. They grieve quietly, the father’s hand clasped around his son’s shoulder, a sign of solidarity, of estrangement forgotten.

Death is wrong–you’re grateful for these times in which your functions overlap. It is intoxicatingly good to see someone outside your own little world. That only makes it ache more when it’s time for you to part.

“The Fates may call you their ward, but you were mine first,” Death presses on, her eyes wide and earnest. “I welcomed you into this world when you were just a babe, and I intended to follow you through to the end. Sure, things didn’t go as expected, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be here for you.”

“I don’t want you to check on me out of obligation,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t. I care about you, Love. And I know that this transition must be hard.” She pauses, eyes searching yours, imploring. “Now, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. You’ve been downcast the last several times I’ve seen you.”

You smile wistfully, your expression tight. It’s amazing how she can read you like a book. You suppose eons spent meeting humans in the biggest highs and lows of their lives would make her adept at doing so. You look inward, searching for the answers she seeks. Being vulnerable is like a muscle, and your ability to do so has atrophied in your self-imposed solitude. “I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me. This work that I’m doing…I love it. I really, really do. The feeling that I get when I fulfill their bonds…words don’t do it justice.” You inhale, growing breathless at the mere thought of it. “It’s extraordinary. Transcendent. And yet, something feels missing. I don’t feel…whole.” You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as cotton. “I can still feel it. What it felt like to love him. I know that it had to be powerful for…for it to linger as it does, even after all that happened. I’m longing for something I don’t even remember.” You purse your lips, images of those final moments flashing in your mind. “Something that, apparently, was never real at all. And yet, it still haunts me.”

Death is quiet for several long moments. You watch as the father offers his son a handkerchief to dab at his glistening eyes. Their green thread thrums in response. “I know what you’re experiencing,” she finally says. When you turn to look at her, her gaze is knowing. “It’s mourning. For the life you might have led, for what was taken from you. Grief never goes away, but it does get a little easier to bear.” She smiles softly at you. “Trust me, I speak from experience.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t help but feel that the wrong person was picked for the job. A love goddess who put her heart in the wrong hands.” You offer her a strained, lopsided grin. “Seems a little convoluted, doesn’t it?”

This time, it’s Death’s turn to roll her eyes. After a playful shake of her head, she gazes at you with conviction. “You said you remember how it felt? The love that you had for him?”

How could you forget? Maker knows you’d tried, to no avail. When you close your eyes, you’re back in the dream meadow, the place where your memory of those final moments begins. You think of the way your skin had sung at his touch, the way your heart had swelled so large, you’d felt it could swallow the world whole. “Yes.”

Death’s hand is gentle on your arm. “They need that. And if you’re able to hold on to that feeling, to believe in it, even after all that has happened, then you’re the right one for the job. Though what happened to you was a tragedy, one I wish I could take away, one good thing came of it, Love. You.”

. . .

Death was right. With time, the grief does become easier to bear. When the bittersweet pangs of yearning and envy pierce your heart, you’re able to forge onward. Where your heart once sang for him, it now sings at the feeling of giving love to others. The feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his voice, fades from the forefront of your mind, slipping into little more than a distant memory. The feeling of brokenness, though never gone, grows smaller inside you. With time, happiness begins to come more easily.

Guarding your heart is a small price to pay for keeping it.

. . .

You shudder against the early-December breeze, tugging your beanie more fully over your ears. The radiant colors and dipping temperatures of fall have long faded, transitioning into shades of blue, foggy breath, and frosted grass. Your fingers curl tightly around the to-go cup in your hand, relishing the warmth of the coffee that seeps through the paper.

Dream of the Endless, impervious as ever, walks beside you without so much as a shiver. The collar of his black wool coat conceals his sharp jawline, one hand tucked into his pocket. The other caresses a to-go cup of earl grey tea. Steam wafts from the lid’s opening as the Dream Lord brings it to his pursed lips to take a sip.

The sight makes you smile. Walking down the busy street on a weekday morning, two companions sharing warm beverages on the way to work, you truly feel almost human. The past two months had been imbued with a sense of calm and contentment that you savored. Your partnership with Morpheus had been going swimmingly. Though not all of the attachments you’d fulfilled with Morpheus’s help went according to plan, you had seen a significant and sustained improvement since adding first words into the dreams of lovers and soulmates. When you walked through the Realm of Attachment, fewer and fewer black threads caught your eye.

Their master was even more elusive to you. You hadn’t seen Desire since the day in the park with Matthew. The thought both thrilled and unnerved you. You had expected their retaliation to be quick and fierce. You weren’t sure what to think of the fact that it hadn’t come at all.

Still, it was easy to push such thoughts from your mind when your days were as busy as they were. Your daily time spent with Matthew, Lucienne, and the other residents of the Dreaming were some of the brightest hours of your days. You’d found yourself waking earlier and earlier, becoming more efficient with your duties, all in your eagerness to travel to the Dreaming. Your heart, lonely and starved of connection for so long, finally felt fed and full. Between your time spent in the Dreaming and with Theo, you’d barely had time to retreat into yourself for your nightly rest.

Out of all of it, moments like these were some of your favorites. You were delighted on the occasions when the Dream Lord would accept your invitation to observe your function or walk in the Waking World. You enjoyed showing his curious soul bits and pieces of the mortal world, watching him drink in the human experience. As the Dreaming had introduced you to Fiddler’s Green, the House of Secrets, and the House of Mystery, you had introduced its creator to the simple pleasures of sipping tea as the sun rose, finding the darkest place in the city to glimpse the stars, and the satisfaction of spending an afternoon reading a good book rather than working. Though these breaks in routine were only occasional, you treasured them. These moments almost made you feel…normal. The memory of your anxiety and petrification at your first meeting with the Dream Lord nearly made you laugh now.

Eyes still trained on Morpheus, the collision takes you by total surprise. Blunt force contacts your front with a start. A splash of heat douses the front of your coat as your coffee cup is crushed against your chest. Startled, you blink rapidly, gathering your bearings. A college-aged boy peels himself from your front, his hair disheveled, earbuds popping out of his ears from the impact. His eyes are wide with mortification as he looks at you, his phone still in his hand. “Oh shit, I– I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” he stammers.

His guilt is palpable. You smile kindly at him, seeking to assuage his embarrassment. “It’s really okay.” You glance down at the dark brown stain that now adorns the front of your beige coat. “You know, I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea to buy a light-colored coat anyway. I’m surprised I didn’t spill something on it way sooner.”

The boy laughs breathlessly, shoulders relaxing slightly as he realizes he’s not about to be cursed out for this incident. Still, his dark brows are furrowed as he begins to dig into his pocket for his wallet. “Here, let me can give you money for a new one–”

You place a hand on his arm, and his movement stills. You smile again as his hesitant green eyes meet yours. “Really, don’t worry about it,” you say with gentle firmness. “You did me a favor, honestly. You just gave me an excuse to go get a coat I won’t end up ruining with a massive coffee stain. Which is definitely something I would have ended up doing.” You give his arm a soft squeeze of reassurance. “So thank you. Just maybe look up a little more often next time.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Not everyone’s looking to buy a new coat.”

The boy stares at you for a moment, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Then, he smiles tentatively. “Yeah, right. Thanks. Have a great rest of your day.” He tucks his phone into his pocket as he slips back into the crowd.

As he disappears from sight, you look down at the stain with a soft sigh. As you walk toward the nearest trash bin with your now-sadly-empty coffee cup, Morpheus follows you like a shadow. “It astounds me how seamlessly you intermingle with them,” he murmurs quietly. With a quick toss, your empty cup sails through the mouth of the trash bin, a hole-in-one. “You act like one of them.”

On instinct, your mind says, I am one of them. You open your mouth to say the words, then quickly bite your tongue. Because even though your sense of self-identify lies somewhere on the muddled plain between mortal and deity, you know that, at the core of it, you’re not one of them. Not anymore.

Morpheus’s bright, attentive eyes miss nothing. His gaze is curious, his brows lifted as he says, “I’ve noticed a consistent shift in your demeanor when the subject of your past as a human is broached. Why?”

The question catches you off-guard. Pursing your lips in thought, you wave him toward the awning of a boutique a few steps away, slipping away from the throng of people walking down the street. “I don’t know. It’s…hard to explain.” You gnaw at the inside of your cheek in thought, his curious gaze heavy upon you. “I mean, imagine. You’re born mortal, a human, living in the mortal world amongst other humans. Being mortal is your identity–it’s all you know. But then, suddenly, you’re thrust into a world of gods, goddesses, and Endless. Everyone’s telling you that you’re immortal now, that you’re not human anymore, but you don’t look any different. You don’t think or act any differently. Hell, you don’t even really feel any different. Excluding your new magical ability to foster love connections between mortals, of course.” You chuckle softly. “I may not be able to remember my mortal life in its entirety, but I imagine I had loved ones, plans, hopes, dreams. The thought that all that went unfulfilled–I don’t know. It’s just hard to reconcile, in a way. Even after all this time.” You shy away from Morpheus’s blue eyes, the thoughtfulness that lies within them. “Your sister called it ‘mourning’ once. And I agree with her. Though it does get easier, it never goes away. Talking to Matthew has helped. He might be the only other person in the world besides me who understands how it feels.”

Morpheus is quiet for several long moments, processing your words. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Just as you’re about to ask if he minds walking back to Cliff’s with you for a replacement coffee, he speaks. “I know of someone you should quite like to meet.”

. . .

The two-story, red-brick building before you is quaint and unassuming. Tucked off a side-street, it’s the type of place you would have never found without prior knowledge or guidance from word of mouth. The chimney breathes a steady stream of smoke into the pale blue sky overhead. The emerald green curtains adorning the bottom floor windows are drawn open, inviting visitors to come in for reprieve from the winter chill. Several tables with green umbrellas surround the outside of the inn, pops of color against the gray of London. You follow Morpheus as he leads you through a patch of grass toward the inn’s front door. “‘The New Inn?’ Whatever brought you to this place?” you ask curiously.

“This inn is owned by an old friend of mine,” Morpheus responds. He reaches the green door first. A small string of bells tied around the handle jingles as he opens it. “A friend I think you might appreciate making an acquaintance of.”

You blink, surprised. This is the first time you’ve heard the Dream Lord refer to anyone as a “friend,” and your interest is instantly piqued. You follow him through the doorway, relishing the warmth that flushes your cheeks as you step over the threshold. The room has a distinctly vintage personality, complete with brocade-esque cream wallpaper and lit sconces. An elaborate mahogany bar spans one wall with several sets of wooden tables and chairs surrounding it. For the inn being off the beaten path, it’s surprisingly busy at this time of day. Several patrons sit about chatting with partners, friends, and loved ones, sipping a beer, coffee, tea, or all three.

As if he knows precisely where to go, Morpheus skips the bar, walks past an ornately-carved fireplace along the far wall, and dips left into a second room off the main bar. This room is smaller and cozier than the main gathering room. A staircase to your left leads up to what you assume are the guests’ quarters. Only one patron is present in this room–a middle-aged gentleman seated at a small table in the corner opposite the staircase. He nurses a beer slowly, reading a newspaper by the light of the wall sconces above his head.

Morpheus walks toward him without hesitation. “Hob Gadling,” he calls. At the sound of Morpheus’s voice, the man’s head snaps upward. You watch as his eyes widen in surprise, followed by the slow dawn of joy overtaking his expression. A dazzling smile warms his handsome face, pronouncing his cleft chin and dark eyes. He rises to his feet instantly, flinging the newspaper onto the wooden seat beside him.

“Old friend!” The man–Hob–exclaims, stepping around the table to meet Morpheus in the middle. Your eyes settle on his dark hair, the crinkles by his eyes, his affectionate grin. His features resonate somewhere in the depths of your mind. You swear you’ve seen him before, and you suppose it’s likely that you have. After all, you meet most everyone at least once. Still, as young as he looks, you would have thought his face would have been more familiar to you. “You’re early, my friend. Very early.”

Morpheus dips his head slightly, looking at Hob with knowing eyes. Is that the ghost of a smile on his lips? Before you can get a better look, the Endless begins to speak. “Indeed, I am. It is a special occasion that brings me to your establishment today.” Morpheus beckons toward you with one hand. You take a couple steps forward to stand at his side, giving Hob a friendly smile. “I would like to introduce you to my…colleague, Love.”

Hob’s eyes turn from Morpheus to you. He’d been so excited to see the Dream Lord that you’re not sure he’d quite noticed you until this moment. His eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you, his wide grin taking on a cheeky edge. “Colleague, eh? I know what that means.” He raises his eyebrows, his expression now deathly serious. “You two are snogging, aren’t you?”

Your heart leaps into your throat in an instant. “No,” you say hastily, waving your hands in front of you. You refuse to look at Morpheus’s expression, certain that you’ll find confusion, mortification, or a muddled mix of both. Does he even know what snogging means? “No, really, we’re just–”

Your denial is interrupted by a snort erupting from Hob. Mouth twisted tightly from holding back a grin, he finally gives in, his deep, throaty laughter filling the small room. “I’m just kidding you, darling. Sorry, I shouldn’t be poking at you when we’ve just met.” He reaches out with a kind smile, taking one of your hands in his. Your heartbeat begins to slow as you meet his warm brown eyes. “My name is Robert Gadling, but you can call me Hob. I’m the owner of this inn and a long-time friend of this one.” He tosses a cheeky look at Morpheus before turning back to you. “So, colleague, eh? Maybe you can finally answer some of my questions about my mysterious old friend.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what to say. Looking to Morpheus with wide, questioning eyes, you find him gazing at Hob with vague amusement. “Hob Gadling, I should think you know better,” Morpheus says lowly.

“I know, I know. Trade secrets and all.” Hob releases your hand gently, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his brown suede jacket with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve known this man for a long time now, and still know next to nothing about him.”

“Over six hundred years,” Morpheus says matter-of-factly.

Both you and Hob fall deathly silent. Over six hundred years. Your lips part slightly in awe and understanding. Suddenly, your vague remembrance of this man makes complete sense. When you look at Hob, you find him staring at Morpheus with a turbulent mix of shock, horror, and confusion. “I– No– Wait–” he stammers. Morpheus inclines his chin slightly, an answer provided in physicality rather than words. Hob’s denials suddenly catch in his throat as understanding dawns on his own face, slow and sweeping. “Wait– She– Really?” An incredulous grin overtakes Hob’s face as he looks at you with new eyes. “Oh, wow. This is fucking mental.”

And then, a sight you never thought you’d see: The Dream Lord smirks. Only the slightest upturn of the corner of his pink lips, but it’s there. For three months, such a sight had eluded you. You study his face in awe, unsure of how long this break in his stoic exterior will last. It’s incredible how the smallest of gestures seems to soften Morpheus’s sharp jawline, his high cheekbones. The stars in his eyes seem to glimmer with more fervor than usual.

The low rumble of his voice draws you out of your thoughts. “You two should have much to discuss. I will take my leave.” And with that, he turns and exits the room in a blur of black.

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, watching as he slips away. You’re still stuck on the fact that you just saw the Dream Lord smile. Fates, you’d thought you’d never see the day. After all, he was– “A bit of an uppity prick, isn’t he?” Hob interjects into your thoughts. When you turn to him, you find him watching you with a smirk of his own. “All said in love, of course. I’ve known the man for over six hundred years, and he once gave me the cold shoulder when I implied that he might want a friend, so I think I’ve earned the right to say so.” You hide a snicker behind your hand, and Hob grins wider. He offers you his hand, and you accept it with a firm shake. “Allow me to introduce myself again. I’m Hob Gadling.”

You smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Hob Gadling. You can call me Love.”

Hob sweeps his hand toward the table he’d been sitting at with a flourish. “Well, Love, please, have a seat. Let’s chat.” A perfect gentleman, he pulls out the chair across from him. You accept it with a smile, sitting down as he finds his own seat. “So, how do you know my old friend?”

“We’re colleagues. Co-workers,” you say truthfully, echoing Morpheus’s statement from before. You’re unsure of exactly what Hob knows about Morpheus’s state of being, and you don’t intend on revealing anything the Endless might wish to hold close to his chest.

“Co-workers,” Hob echoes. He leans toward you conspiratorially, quirking a curious eyebrow at you. “You know, he’s gone now. If you two really are snogging, you can tell me.”

You shake your head with a laugh. Maker, you like this Hob Gadling. “No. We really just work together. How does the saying go? ‘Don’t mix business and pleasure?’”

Hob leans back in his seat with a smile, raising his mug of beer to his lips. “Funny, mixing the two has worked out great for me,” he says as he takes a long drink. He sets the mug back onto the table with a soft thunk. “So…if he’s brought you here to see me, then I assume you are…?” he trails off.

“Immortal,” you offer. It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to someone who wasn’t a deity or an Endless. Your heartbeat quickens as the words pass over your lips.

Hob’s eyebrows jump upward. In spite of the fact that he obviously assumed as much, to hear it spoken aloud still seems to take him by surprise. He quickly regains his composure. “Fucking hell. Me too. Well, then. This is my first time meeting another immortal. Besides our mutual friend, of course.” He pauses, pursing his lips. A question dances in his eyes. After a moment of debating, he asks, “So, how did you…how did it happen?”

You pause. It’s evident that Hob knows Morpheus is immortal, although it doesn’t appear that he knows much else about the Endless. What should you say? How much truth should you tell? Your mind drifts to the past few months, to how your honesty and vulnerability has been rewarded with new friendships in Lucienne and Matthew. How it’s made your partnership with Morpheus stronger. You decide to take a chance, to make the leap. “Oh, you know. Tragic death. Resurrected by Death and the Fates as a goddess.” You speak the words with forced nonchalance, hoping it will help keep from startling him. You offer him a warm smile. “How about you?”

The innkeeper’s jaw truly drops. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing at his astonished expression. He quickly tries to save face, smoothing his expression into one of only moderate surprise. “Well, shit. I just said I refused to die in a bar once with my mates. Next thing you know, I’m a six-hundred-plus-year-old innkeeper.” You chuckle at him, and Hob smiles, clearly pleased. “So, judging by your name, I assume you’re the goddess of love.” You nod. Hob’s eyebrows furrow as he leans across the table toward you. “If you’re a goddess, then what is he?” he asks quietly.

Oh, how you’d love to satisfy his curiosity. His eagerness to ask questions reminds you of a certain broody Endless, although Hob Gadling seems much less likely to hold his cards close to his chest. You smile kindly at him. “That’s not for me to say. Though I will admit that I understand your curiosity about him. There’s plenty that I’m still learning, myself. Perhaps one day we’ll both get the answers we seek.” You pause, smiling wider. “But I’m not here to talk about him. I’m here to talk about you, Hob Gadling.”

Hob’s lips downturn ever so slightly, just for a moment. You hate to disappoint him, but you suspect he’s well-accustomed to being denied answers when it comes to Morpheus. He rebounds quickly, leaning back in his chair with a friendly grin. His face is an open book as he takes another drink of his beer. “Well then, Love, let’s talk. If you haven’t noticed already, I’ve got plenty to say.”

. . .

Hob’s self-restraint is impressive. He’s divulged the details of his six-hundred-year-long life and learned a little more about your function before he finally asks the question you imagine has been on his mind for the past hour or so. “So, did you ever work on me?” His voice is intrigued, tentative.

You smile warmly at him. It doesn’t surprise you that he wants to know. After all, if you came face-to-face with the goddess of love, wouldn’t you want to know if she’d played a role in your own relationships? You wished that there had been a deity of love before you’d come along. You would certainly have questions for them. “Yes,” you say softly.

Hob breathes a long sigh. The smile on his face is part pleased, part wistful. He seems to look at you differently now, as if he’s gazing at someone he’s met before. Just in a way one might not expect. “My Eleanor, my family…they were everything to me,” he says quietly. There is a vague tightness in his voice, a swell of thinly veiled emotion. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “After a while, when the initial brunt of the pain started to become more…bearable, I tried to find it in someone else. That same feeling.” He sighs again, the sound rich with longing. “But I never could. It just wasn’t the same. Eventually, I stopped trying.”

Your gaze softens with empathy, eyebrows furrowing as his nostalgia settles over the room. You make a mental note to look for his book the next time you’re in your library. To see what the future might hold for him. “Real love is indescribably precious. To revel in it is the highest of highs. To be parted from it is the lowest of lows.”

Hob chuckles quietly, running a hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair. “Yeah, I suppose you would know all about that.” He sighs once more, the wistful smile slipping from his face. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that kind of life is in the cards for me anymore, being immortal and all. A normal life like that…I’m not sure how it would even work.”

Your hand slips across the table on instinct, fingers curling over his knuckles gently. You give them a faint squeeze. “You never know, Hob. Who’s to say what the future might hold?”

Hob’s dark eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. You recognize the spark that alights within them, flickering like a flame. Hope. Yes, you will find his book in your library. Any of the love attachments listed within it–you will ensure them all.

A slow smile warms his expression. He lifts his free hand, patting yours once. “Yeah. Who’s to say?” he says quietly.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment, Hob nursing his beer, your gaze affixed on the tabletop. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, weighing a question of your own in your mind. It burns within you until you simply have to set it free. “Do you ever get sad thinking about what could’ve been?” you ask, lifting your gaze to meet his.

Now, it’s Hob’s turn to eye you with empathy and understanding. He leans forward in his seat, clasping his hands in front of him. “Sure, sometimes, yeah. I mean, how could you not? You’d be crazy not to,” he says reassuringly. He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then presses onward. “When I get that way, though, I try to put things in perspective. In the end, what matters is the here and now. I’ve learned that getting stuck in the past, drowning in ‘would haves’ and ‘could haves,’ only stands to blind you to the happiness that may be around you now.” He pauses, eyes dancing in the golden light of the room. “So, are you happy?”

His question takes you by surprise. If he had asked you three months ago, before you’d met the Dream Lord, Matthew, and Lucienne, the answer would have been no. Sitting here, reflecting on your life Before, you’re certain of that fact. Sure, you had your work, Theo, and visits from Death on occasion, but something had always been…missing. The contentment was surface level, true happiness eluding the lonely heart at your core. But now…things felt different. “Yeah,” you breathe with a slight nod. The ghost of a smile dances over your lips. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hob’s grin is warm and assuring. “Then follow that feeling wherever it takes you. I’ve found it’ll lead you right where you’re supposed to be.”

. . .

The string of bells on The New Inn’s door gives a soft jingle as it closes behind you. The darkness of night swaddles the quiet street like a blanket, interrupted only by the golden glow of light streaming through the inn’s windows. You blink, giving your eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. You’d been so engrossed in talking with Hob that you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.

The street outside the inn is empty save for one lone form. The Dream Lord waits for you beneath a lampost, his dark figure a stark contrast to the golden glow of the lamplight. It casts his alabaster skin in a warmer tone than usual. You smile, seeking to meet his clear blue eyes. “Thank you for today. That was very thoughtful of you.”

Morpheus regards you thoughtfully, his hands tucked into the pockets of his wool coat. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes glistening with stars. “You stated that you felt alone in your experience of being a human thrust into immortality. I only saw it fit to show you that it wasn’t so,” he says matter-of-factly.

You grin cheekily at him. “You really are heeding Lucienne’s words to become a more adept listener. What’s next? Deep confessionals? Trading our most well-kept secrets?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly, though no smile reaches his lips. Your mind wanders to the smirk that graced his face earlier while talking to Hob. Would you ever be able to draw such a reaction from him? “Do not press your luck,” he says lowly, though there is no bite behind his words.

You bow swiftly in mock apology. “Of course, your Endless-ness, All-Powerful Dream, I would never.” Having had your fun, you straighten with a smile. “So, work tomorrow. I suppose I’ll see Matthew at our normal time.”

“Actually, that won’t be necessary.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at Morpheus’s words. You watch as he draws one hand out of his coat pocket, revealing a small cloth pouch. He reaches out and places it in your waiting palms. There is a familiar shifting sensation within the pouch as you cradle it in your hands. Sand.

“This…” you start, the words catching in your throat. You don’t want to speak them if they’re not true.

Morpheus speaks them for you. “This is a pouch of my sand. The grains are everlasting; each time you use them, the pouch will refill. You have my permission to enter and depart the Dreaming as you please by using them.” Your eyes slowly rise from the gift in your hands to meet his. He raises his eyebrows expectantly at you, his hand retreating back into his pocket. “My trust is not widely given. It is earned. If you intended to disrupt or bring harm to my Realm in some way, I suspect you would have done so by now.”

There is a shift in your chest at his words, at the implication behind them. You divert your eyes from his, looking instead to the pouch in your hands. A sequence of emotions rushes through you: Awe, denial, hope, acceptance, elation, gratitude, awe again. The onslaught overwhelms you, scrambling your thoughts. Your mouth feels like sandpaper. Working past the lump in your throat, you quietly admit, “I don’t know what to say.”

Morpheus turns from you to gaze back through the window of The New Inn. His eyes settle on the patrons inside, but you get the feeling that he is not so much looking at them as he is giving you a moment of privacy. “You need not say anything. Matthew has insisted for weeks that I give them to you. As much as I believe he enjoys your morning conversations, I am under the impression he was not privy to early rising in his human life.” The pressure in your throat eases slightly at his words, and you chuckle, a quiet, contented sound. Morpheus’s gaze slides to you, meeting yours from the corner of his eye. “I suppose you could say I finally…listened.”

You smile warmly now, catching the slight inflection at the end of his sentence. You slip the pouch of sand into the pocket of your coat. “Listening suits you well. Goodnight, Dream Lord.”

Morpheus backs away from you slowly, retreating from the lamplight. As his dark, slender form slips into the shadows of the night, you catch the familiar glisten of sand spilling from his pocket, whirling around his feet. “Goodnight,” he says, disappearing in a flurry of sand.

You laugh once, a breathy sound. Leave it to Morpheus to exit in simultaneously the most dramatic and subtle way possible. Your hand finds the cloth pouch in your pocket. You give it a gentle squeeze, relishing the weight of it in your hand. A weight that tells you this is not a dream.

Alone on the street, a voice abruptly cuts through the darkness, sending your mind lurching. As your stomach drops, you wonder if this is, perhaps, a nightmare instead. “Love, darling. Long time, no see.”

You spin to the left, eyes frantically searching the darkness. You spot their eyes first–two pools of molten gold glowing from within the darkness. Their lithe form emerges from behind the silhouette of a tree in the grassy patch by the inn, slipping from the shadows with feline fluidity. “Or, should I say, a long time since you’ve seen me. Because I’ve been watching you, darling.” Desire’s eyes are wide as saucers as they stalk toward you. Bone white teeth flash from behind their blood red lips. “Though you’ve been lurking about in my dear big brother’s Realm quite a bit as of late, you’ve certainly given me plenty to see in your own. You didn’t forget that I could travel there, too, now did you?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, demanding, relentless. Your mind reels back to your last encounter with Desire of the Endless, to the dizzying rush of fear that had overtaken you, the suffocating helplessness that had stolen your breath away. No. You would not allow yourself to feel that way again. For Desire to be here, to be this angry, could only mean one thing: They’ve noticed your work. That meant you had leverage. “How could I forget? I see traces of your handiwork there every day,” you say lowly, pressing back against the warble that threatens to sneak into your voice.

Desire raises their eyebrows dramatically. One hand reaches outward to point a red-tipped finger at you, accusing. “And, you see, that’s exactly why I’m here. My handiwork,” they hiss. They take another step toward you; you take one step back. “I’ve been watching you, Love. I am all too aware of what you’re doing. Using my own blood against me? Taking advantage of my brother for your own gain?” Desire’s eyebrows furrow, their face falling in mock disappointment. “I would have thought better of you than that.”

Anger rears its ugly head within your chest, roaring and defensive. You set your jaw tightly. “I am not taking advantage of anyone. Your brother chose to help me.” You quirk an eyebrow at them, rage blurring your judgment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have meddled in his affairs. If you hadn’t, maybe he wouldn’t have chosen to help me.”

Desire’s eyes blaze with indignance. They take another step toward you. This time, you don’t step back. “I am Desire of the Endless. I will do as I please, and I always get what I want.” Their fingers curl around your chin, their fingernails sharp against your skin. Despite the pounding of your heart in your ears, you force yourself to hold their gaze, to stand your ground.

Desire’s eyes scrutinize you, lingering on the defiance in your angry brow, your clenched jaw. After a long, tense moment, their blood red lips curl into a sickeningly sweet smile. The sight startles you, unexpected. “Well, well, well, now there’s something new. Fire. Defiance.” Desire grips your chin a little tighter, fingernails digging painfully into your skin, before releasing you suddenly. “I like it,” they coo, their breath hot against your face.

You swallow thickly, forcing down the stinging sensation that fights to creep up your throat. Your voice is but a whisper as you say, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Is it now?” Desire whispers in return, their tone taunting. A dark chuckle rumbles through their throat, a menacing cross between a purr and a snarl. When they speak next, it’s with an aloofness that frightens you more than their wrath. “You know, you’re right. I really ought to be running along. I have scales to disrupt, you know.” Another wicked grin, a gleam of teeth in the lamplight. “I just wanted to pop by and let you know that the time for warnings is over, darling. You’ve shown me you want to play dirty, so let’s play dirty. After all, that is my favorite game.”

Slowly, delicately, five slender fingers come to wrap around your throat. Muscle memory jerks you in the opposite direction as white hot adrenaline surges through you. Your brain screams, AwayAwayAway– but when you move to retreat, Desire’s other hand catches you by the shoulder, holding you in place. “When I find what you love, I will take it…and squeeze.” Fingertips burrow into the soft flesh of your throat. Though your mind demands you flee, your muscles remain locked in place.

With one final jerk of your chin, Desire releases you. Their face is eerily serious as they step backward, slipping into the darkness. “You’ve been running from me since the day you died, Love. But the time for running is over.” All that remains are two eyes of molten gold, hovering in the shadows. “Everything would have been so much easier if you’d just stayed dead.”

When Desire’s voice slips away on the December breeze, only the darkness remains.

#dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman #the sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #netflix the sandman #dream of the endless x fem!reader #morpheus x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #dream #morpheus #the sandman imagines #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #Morpheus imagine #sandman imagine #sandman fic

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fwibblefwobble · 2 years

Note

Hello there! I saw that you were out of ideas and I have one for you. How would Morpheus react to reader having powers?

Hihi my lovely anon!! Thank you for sending me this request!! It kept me company through a very long and sleepless flight :) I hope you enjoy!!

The Dreaming is a realm of wonder, a catalyst for change. Mankind has fought its wars, chased its fantasies, found self-realization in this very place. Every person that has ever lived is deeply, intimately familiar with this space of collective consciousness. You, especially so.

You're not quite sure what the Dream Lord sees in you. To him, you're a tiny blip in an ever-expanding universe. An inconsequential star in an overwhelming sea of night. At best, you're a case study. At worst, well... you haven't gotten that far.

You're also incredibly aware of Dream's omnipresence. It's impossible to ignore, especially in the thick of his domain. Life pulses to his heartbeat. Wind gusts to his breath. You can feel the land swell and sing at his presence; feel the rise and fall of his chest through the grass of Fiddler's Green. You could blush at the intimacy of it all.

He's not shy in the way he lavishes your subconscious either. Tonight, he has you running along a field of poppies, vivid and bright against the setting sun. You giggle as you flounce around, delighting in the way each step you take gives life to another blushing red blossom. The waning light of the sky warms your face, washing you aglow in a sea of beauty. It seems that Morpheus took note of your favorite color when you mentioned it in passing. When you picture his signature sourpuss face, you chuckle. The mopey bastard cares more than he lets on.

Air compartmentalizes as you fall backwards, slowing your gravity to a featherlight descent. Petals stroke your face, tickling your cheek as you pass. You stretch, content in your safe haven, and think nothing of closing your eyes and drifting.

When you wake, you're sprawled on a lacquered scarlet floor polished to gloss. You blink, dazed and confused at your new surroundings. This doesn't feel like the Dreaming. You can feel the familiar hum of Dream's presence guiding you in your sleep. This place feels... wilder. Primal.

"Hello?"

Your voice reverberates through the caverns of your surroundings, echoing through what seems like valves in the walls.

A voice thrums back at you, deep and enthralling. "Hello," it purrs, "what can I do for you?"

You move to stand, apprehensive.

"Who... are you?"

A laugh snakes through the room, winding through your ears in loops.

"Who or what I am doesn't matter, darling. I just want to know about the little mortal who caught dear Dream's eye."

Your breath catches, eyes darting around. Trying to track the voice around you is impossible. It's in your head, in the walls, in the air, thick and cloying.

"Who are you?" it drawls. "What do you want? What do you most... desire?"

The last question lingers, drilling into your head with potency. Your mind is brought inward as every yearning that has ever been rushes to the forefront. A figure with long, polished nails scrolls through them leisurely, shimmying in delight. You gasp at the intrusion, hands flying to your head in an attempt to reel yourself back in.

"My my, you really do like Dream, don't you?" Their eyes flash gold, lips pulling a Cheshire cat grin. They peruse through a memory of you and Morpheus on the beach of his realm. You're witnessing the creation of a newborn dream, surveying its maker all the while. He's quiet as he works, fingers weaving in tandem with the growth of new nerves and bodily structures. It's easy as breathing, natural as the moon and its tides. For him, it might even be mundane.

You, on the other hand, remain awestruck. Witnessing an Endless is a privilege beyond all else, not to mention one in its own element. It's unfathomable how much he gives for his realm, for humanity. His role in the universe is beyond mortal comprehension. Duty is a tragic thing, one that weighs heavily despite its beauty. You can't help the way your heart breaks for him, how much you wish you could shoulder his burden. How, despite the crushing responsibility, you want to have a little magic too.

Desire's eyes narrow at your admission. They pluck the memory from your mind, rolling it between their fingers like one would a marble. Your other memories are dismissed with a flick.

"Well, isn't this cute?"

Your head burns with the influx.

"Let's give this little wish a try, hm? For the both of us. Just to see what'll happen."

As the figure turns to leave you heaving in its wake, it stops its saunter halfway down the hall.

"And before I forget... let's leave Dream out of this, okay? It'll be our little secret."

You wake up in a cold sweat, hands clutching at your sheets. The world around you is a terrible kaleidoscope of expansion. Your room is hardly recognizable, every object shifting and warping erratically in its place. Every transformation feels like a piece of you warps with it. It's uncontrollable. It's violent. It hurts.

"Morpheus," you scream, "Morpheus!"

The air around you shifts, and you know the Dream Lord has answered your call. He rushes to your side, surveying the madness around you. You nearly sob in relief at the cool touch of his hand on your face.

"What happened?" he demands, "Who did this to you?"

You choke as you try to recall your memory. The flash of the golden figure's smile rips through your consciousness. All you can manage is a vigorous shake of your head.

Morpheus watches the chaos around you with quiet fury. Something, someone must have found out about his involvement with you. Sought to punish him for it. Why, he wonders, holding your writhing frame in his arms. Who would enact such cruelty upon an innocent? Just to get under his skin?

This, he decides, he will unearth later. For now, he will gift you a paltry bliss, slipping your lids shut gently with two fingers and a soft kiss.

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

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dervampireprince · 2 years

Video

youtube

ASMR | The Sandman - Dream Helps You Sleep [M4A] [Sleep aid] [Comfort]

The requests to voice Dream finally got me to watch The Sandman and I guess I've collected another gender. Let me know if you think my attempt works and if you'd like me to voice him more! Get those Dream requests in!

I panicked and didn't know what song Dream could possibly sing or hum and went with Edelweiss from The Sound of Music.

If you enjoy listening to my audios please considering dropping me a small donation on Ko-Fi or supporting me on Patreon (where at the moment you get optional access to my Discord and HD downloadable MP3s of all my audios). I improv/write, record, and edit all of these myself, as well as doing artwork for any original character roleplays. It takes a while to put everything together so any support is appreciated. Audio commissions are currently open, information is in my pinned post. As always, I also post my audios to Youtube, and have Youtube, soundg-asm, Twitter, AO3, Ko-Fi and Patreon.

(Full spicy audios on soundgasm and Patreon. Downloadable versions, bonus N-SFW audios and Discord on Patreon) [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit my audios]

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theship-thewalrus · 2 years

Note

You really do deserve the 100 followers! the best when u write for Brienne or Lucifer, I was wondering, may you do a prompt?

Pleasee, please may you do ❛ the last thing i want is to hurt you. ❜ for Brienne or Lucifer, any you think fit the best. I am soo excited for this lmao thanks so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Sorry im anon, Im rlly paranoid about safety 💀

Hi anon!! Thank you for the kind words :) I love this prompt because you can do so much!! I really hope you enjoy it <3 there is nothing wrong with being an anon!! I love all my anons :)

lucifer x gender neutral! reader

pretty much the ask!! also this is for the 100 follower event

word count: 375 words reading time: about 3 minutes warnings: none prompt: ❛ the last thing i want is to hurt you. ❜

Lucifer was the ruler of the underworld, fear was something they commanded. Without it they would quickly lose their position as ruler, the other demons praying on their weakness. You understood the need for them to be harsh at times. But it had never been directed to you, Lucifer was also kind and soft.

Until now, Lucifer's anger and harsh nature slipping into your conversation. Their biting tone, their potent words, their angered expression. They had the ability to make you feel like a speck of dust, something so insignificant. You look up to them, trying to grasp if their anger was true or not. It seemed to only increase their anger, their voice raising as they move to get into your personal space. To suffocate you with their aurora to the point you felt you have no escape.

"Lucifer, stop it. You are scaring me." Your voice is soft compared to Lucifer's you were surprised they heard you. But their eyes darken and their lips tighten, signalling they heard you loud and clear. Their voice moved to be only mere centimetres away from your own. You could feel their breath on your face. "Scaring you? Am I scaring you? Let me show you how scary I can be."

Standing to their full height, their eyes pierced yours before their wings expanded. Lucifer's height was beyond intimidating, especially with their wings out. The sudden moment frightened you, causing you to flinch. Though you knew Lucifer would not hurt you, you still feared the possibility. As you knew what horrors they could commit when mad.

Their face dropped, the angered expression morphing into one of regert. The last thing they ever wanted to do was scare you, to make you fear them. They loved you, viewed you as an equal, you were their lover. Their wings lowered once more, resting behind them comfortably.

"The last thing I want is to hurt you." Their voice was much softer than before hands reaching out to grab yours. Softly they grab them, running their thumbs over your hands. The both of you are silent for a moment, coming down from your fear and their anger. As there was nothing to say, just simply reading each others energy.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer imagines #the sandman x reader #the sandman imagines #sandman imagines #sandman x reader

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lost-in-the-hellaverse · 2 years

Text

Y/N: *staring at Morpheus while he works* ...Smash

Lucienne: Y/N!

Y/N: *jolts* W-What?! What was the game?! Smash or pass?

*Mervyn and Matthew start laughing*

#the sandman #the sandman x you #morpheus x you #dream of the endless imagine #lucienne #mervyn pumpkinhead #matthew the raven #the sandman imagines #the sandman incorrect quotes #source: Tik Tok #morpheus imagine

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 2 years

Text

tipsy. ~ morpheus x fem!reader

Summary: Morpheus takes care of you after you get drunk with Destiny and Death. II fluff

Words: 531 Warnings: mentions of alcohol use Pairing: Morpheus x female!Reader

„And then I said to him – whoops!” The chair on which you currently stand to dramatically tell your story suddenly … tips. You fall, arms flailing, drink crashing to the ground but instead of following the glass, you land right in the arms of a certain more or less annoyed Dream Lord.

“Oops, didn’t see you there”, you giggle as you look up to him. In the background, Desire and Death are laughing.

“Hmm, I figured”, Morpheus says and you could swear that he sounds a bit amused. But maybe that’s the alcohol talking.

“You got her drunk?”, he asks, voice much colder now as he addresses his siblings. “Whose idea was that? Desire?”

“Don’t blame me!” Desire lifts up both of their hands, a wide grin on their face. “It was her idea!”

“That’s true, Dream”, you come to their help but he ignores you.

“I expected better from you, Death.”

“Ah, come on, don’t be such a buzzkill, brother,” Death exclaims, rolling her eyes. “It’s all in good fun.”

“See,” you repeat, giggling again. “All in good fun.”

Desire snorts, Death grins, Dream sighs.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles and lifts you up, full-on bridal style. A second later, your surroundings have changed and you’re in his personal chambers.

“Technically, I am already sleep, aren’t I?”, you wonder as he carries you to his bed.

“Still, you need rest. Alcohol in the Dreaming can affect you just as much.” He lets you down carefully. The sheets feel nice and cool against your heated skin. Morpheus sits down next to you and reaches for the covers. You however have different plans – you sit up, the world spins, and reach for him. You actually manage to grab him by surprise and as you press his mouth to his, you feel him smile against you. He breaks the kiss quickly, holding your hands tightly by the wrists.

“We will do no such thing.”

“Why not?”, you whine.

“Because, my love, you are very, very drunk.” Slowly he pushes you down to lay down again.

“So?” You pout. “I want you. Sober or not sober.”

Dream chuckles. You love it when he does that. “Then surely you can wait until you are actually sober.”

“You’re being mean.”

“I am not. You’re being whiny.”

“Pff.” Suddenly your eyes begin to feel heavy. You hardly even notice that Dream begins to pull off your shoes.

“Besides, you stink of alcohol”, he continues. “What did they give you?”

“Did you just tell me I stink?” Slightly offended, you open an eye.

Dream nods, dead serious. “I did.”

“And here I thought you loved me.” You sigh dramatically. The blanket feels heavy on your shoulders and you already feel yourself drifting. “It was fun though”, you mumble into the pillow. “Your siblings are nice.”

“Mhh”, he murmurs. The mattress dips and he pulls you into his arms.

You nuzzle your head against his chest. “I loved hanging out with them.”

“And I love you.”

The smile appears naturally on your face. “I love you too.” You yawn. “If you change your mind about … you know. Let me know.”

His body vibrates as he laughs. “Rest now, my Queen.”

thank you for reading! masterlist

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman fanfiction #dream x reader #the sandman imagines #the sandman dream x reader #the sandman morpheus x reader #the sandman dream imagines #the sandman dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x you #dream x you #morpheus x you #the sandman morpheus x you #the sandman dream x you

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dreamdaddymorpheus · 2 years

Text

Don't Blame Me | Dark!Morpheus Headcanon

pairing: dark!morpheus x human!reader warning: dark themes, yandere tendencies, major gaslighting a/n: a continuation of this request and an actual attempt at a headcanon this time. honestly idk how i got here lmao i was trying something new but the writing style is just all over the place :'D i might just stick to what i know but it's done so have it anyway fml you can actually pinpoint the exact moment i gave the fuck up lmao

Morpheus, true to his word, will never refuse you – bar leaving him. That isn’t to say he won’t bargain with you in exchange for your affection. You want freedom to explore The Dreaming? Sit on lap for an hour every day. You want to visit your friends or your family through their dreams? Grant him a kiss. You want to visit the waking world for a day? Spend an entire day with him.

You are to address him as ‘Husband’ or ‘My Love’ at all times. He won’t accept any other terms and if you don’t want him pouty and sulky for days you will learn to oblige him.

He will never force you to lay with him against your will. He will be very tactile with you, of course, run his fingers through your hair, brush his thumb over your lips, pepper your shoulders with innocent kisses – but he will heed you without question as soon as you say ‘No’.

You will never escape him. The sooner you realize that the sooner you’ll see you are, in fact, the one with power over him. He will do anything to please you and gain your love again.

If you have yet to accept him, he will be extra possessive of you and any being he sees to be closer to you than him will be perceived as a threat to his position in your heart.

You learned this the hard way after visiting a friend through their dream and openly expressed how much you missed them. It wasn’t particularly intimate or affectionate, but Morpheus had been most displeased.

“What more must I do to gain even a sliver of your affection?!” He roared then. You remember walking into the heart of his palace to see him sat at the bottom step of his throne, eyes shining with resentment and his lips pursed petulantly. “I have disappointed you, I admit, in keeping you here but what can the waking world give you that I cannot?”

You stared at him in disbelief. Disappointed? Does he truly think you are merely disappointed? “You know what will make me happy.”

Rising to his full height to tower over your from, Dream of the Endless hardens his countenance as well as his heart in the face of his love, “Freedom? You think freedom will make you happy?” You hated the clear mockery in his voice as though you were asking for the impossible. “Very well then, my love.” That should have been the first red flag. Morpheus has never once relented when it came to the subject of your freedom. He bends down to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the top of your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

The King of Dreams then moved his open palm close to his mouth. He merely returned your look of confusion with a small smile before he exhaled a deep breath, sending a flurry of sand your way. The last thing you heard was “I exist only to serve you.”

Then…freedom. You remembered waking up in your bed, in your room, in your flat. It was bliss. Things were as you left them. You had your friends and your family. At first you feared Morpheus would make himself known to you again and rob you of the joy mundane life brought you. But he never came. Not even in your dreams. That should have been the second red flag.

Things remained the same for a long time – until it wasn’t. It started with little things, like your friends having dreams of you being unkind or inconsiderate. Silly things like that. At the beginning they would share it with you, and you’d all laugh about it. But the dreams would persist, later extending to you being violent to them. Then they’d wake up with physical evidence. What if they weren’t just dreams? They’d all wonder to themselves.

It wasn’t much different for your family – only their dreams would be memories of you. At first, they’d recognize the little changes made in the dream, but they’d experience it each night that eventually it would subconsciously replace their memory and perception of you.

Like that time you went swimming with your cousins when you were all teenagers and one of them almost drown through no fault of yours. Well, now it was your fault.

Or that time your grandmother fell down the stairs and you were definitely at work when it occurred. Well, someone recalled seeing you at the top of the stairs, looking down in delight.

In time your family and friends would slowly turn against you no matter how many times you would try to refute their claims. No, you did not try to seduce your sister’s fiancée. No, you did not hit your nephew. No, you did not kill the neighbour’s cat.

You felt everyone’s stares and heard their whispers, in your hometown; at work; in your building. You felt the weight of their judgement.

“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do any of it!” But the more you insisted the more it sounded like the ramblings of a mad woman. “You have to believe me!” They didn’t believe you.

Your family later institutionalised you, thinking it for the best. Poor Y/N. What happened to her? They’d gossip amongst themselves.

It was when you were sitting in the middle of a padded room with a straight jack forced upon you, a punishment for your misbehaviour, that you finally called out to Morpheus. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Oh, my beloved wife” you heard him say not long after, voice far too sweet to be genuine but you didn’t even care to notice in your grief, “What have they done to you, my sweet” you’d feel a ghost of a hand brush down your cheek, “The Dreaming weeps for its Queen, as do I. Mortals do not deserve you.”

“Please, Morpheus, I want…to go home.”

You thought you heard him purr, but Morpheus had yet to show himself. “Is that truly what you want, my love? I do not want to deprive of you of your…freedom.”

“I was wrong.” You could only continue to sob, so utterly betrayed, “I-I thought they cared…I thought they loved me.”

He materialized in front of you then in a swirl of sand, clad in his glorious robes of black, “Oh, but none could love you as much as I.” He bent down to cup your face in both hands, “Let me worship you, my Queen, as you rightly deserve.”

If you enjoyed this you might enjoy Fire on Fire, a Morpheus and Scarlet Witch!Reader. Very 'you and i against the world' with a dash of 'villain will sacrifice the world for you' vibes lmao (morpheus is not a villain, but he could be for you 👀)

#tag:my work #tag:headcanon #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus imagines #morpheus x reader #dream x y/n #dream x you #dream imagines #dream x fem!reader #dream x reader #netflix the sandman #the sandman imagines

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certifiedskywalker · 1 year

Text

Near, but Never Near Enough - Death of The Endless

The three times you flirt with Death.

Warnings: vague but various causes of death and life-threatening situations (exposure, car crash, etc.)

It was a fluke that left you floating. Floating, you were, quite literally, weightless. Or, at least, it felt literal, as much as literal can feel to someone in your predicament.

It was a blur, too, your predicament. Details once so painfully sharp were muddled by a liquidy rush of unadulterated adrenaline. There was only you, your nerves which seemed to extend beyond your bodily bounds. Yet, you could sense some sort of tether, an invisible tie anchoring you to the wavering image of yourself.

Jelly limbs and wide eyes, you were a shocked sight to behold. How embarrassing to be caught so much by surprise. You scoffed at yourself.

“Well, now is hardly the time for that.”

You spun on your heels at the accented voice. A woman, dark-skinned, dark-haired, and dark-eyed watched you, arms crossed her chest. She looked politely displeased, as if she had been stuck in the queue of a tired deli worker.

“For…?”

“For the negative self-view,” she replied, matter-of-factly.

Your brows furrowed. “Who are you?”

“Someone just stopping by,” the woman replied, her arms falling to her sides like graceful, drooping wings. “It’s not quite your time, though, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

Wordlessly, the woman walked towards you. A sugared sort of scent came with her, seemingly on a gust that trailed her. Slowly, her gaze flicked across your face, studying you like a star map. Yet, it was you who saw constellations, saw them in the glints that glimmered in her dark brown eyes.

“Not your time but here I am. How…peculiar.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you same one of her hands rise, fingers curved towards your face. Though she did not let her skin kiss yours. In the blur of everything, you found yourself wanting for this mystery woman’s touch. You did not need to feel her warmth to know it was there, but how sweet it would be.

Her hand fell before you could ask for it, but the lightest of smiles played on her full lips proved infectious. Slowed due to the weightlessness, the delay latent in the thin tether you could feel grow more taut by the passing second, your own lips quirked upwards too.

“Until next time, sweetheart.”

Before you could ask when that would be or echo your query about who she was, the woman took a step back. With her motion, another gust, stronger than the last, one you could hear as it whistled by your ears, swept you back. Back into feeling, far from the floating you felt before. The details came back. Painful and sharp.

It all came soaring back with the sound of her wings.

It was familiar, that weightless. It nestled in the nooks it carved in your bones, hollowed them, and bid you to float. This was different, a heavier float. You bounced in whatever ether held you, as if a buoy set at sea.

Though, this sea smelled sweet.

“You again?”

Amidst your soft bouncing within the nothing, you turned and saw her. Her!

“You again,” you echoed her words, letting your gaze fix on her form. She looked the same as she did when she first came to you, a soft, winged shadow.

“Well, yes. But,” she paused, shifted her weight on her hips, “it’s still not time.”

“Time for what?” You stepped towards her with your question and she did not move away. You took another step. “You never answered my question about who you are.”

“I am Endless,” she replied, crossing her arms.

“Endless? That’s a bit…much.”

She laughed and you swore you heard the gently ringing of bells. “It is, isn’t it?”

“So, you don’t have a name?”

“Not in the traditional sense.” As she spoke, she cocked her head to the side, dark eyes quizzical as she studied your form. You dared to take another step towards her. On this step, the woman returned the gesture by taking a step back. “Careful.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” she waved a hand, “it’s not like that. I’d like it, it’s just…”

“I’m still sorry,” you said, taking a step back.

“It’s for your safety, not mine.”

“My safety?”

“Like I said, it’s not your time yet. Again. We really must stop meeting like this.”

“This, and before,” you pondered aloud, trying to remember the details. The details always grew so fuzzy when this woman came around. You could never remember how you got to the floating place, to see her. “Why do I see you?”

“Why do you ask? I thought you fancied me,” she said, a grin spreading along her lips. Heat rose and spread along your skin like a wild fire. “You sure do bring new meaning to the phrase ‘flirting with Death,’ that I will tell you.”

“Death?”

Her grin faded into an unreadable expression, an Endless expression that seemed to roll along the peaks of her face. “I’ve said too much.”

Slowly, as if trudging through molasses, the details crawled from the sticking sap of spoiled memory. Pain. First, the shattering of glass and the screeching of wheels. Then, this moment, the ache of lungs swelling but not with air. Sharp pain.

“Are you…Death?”

She took another step and another gust and she was gone, leaving you back in your body with all that pain.

Whatever the Necromancer did, you remembered every detail of this time. You could still feel the flames licking along your skin. Yet, your flesh did not blister. It only stung, intensely, painfully. Sharply.

Constantine had warned you of it, her voice cold and tired. She cared little, likey due to little you had to pay her for her services. You imagined she watched you while you floated in the in-between place, the tethered place. She probably was smiling as your physical form thrashed in the fire’s grip while you, unbound from your body, felt the brunt of pain.

Perhaps it was the detail that kept you from the mystery woman. You could still smell the dank of the church basement, the sulphur, the herbs Johanna burned. They acted as anchors. You had to wring yourself free from the ropes.

“What-You’re kidding, right? A necromancer? A Constantine?”

You flicked your head to the side and saw her, at last. Her dark face was downcast and as stern as you ever saw it. Her arms were not crossed over her chest as they typically were. No, they rested at her sides with her hands curled into fists.

“You know about Constantine?”

“She’s a friend of my brother’s,” she said, voice low, as cold as Johanna’s was when she explained the ritual. “And a friend of yours now, apparently.”

“Not quite friends,” you corrected, giving her a sheepish smile. She did not return the expression.

“And it’s not quite your time, again.” Then, her arms crossed and her left brow crooked upwards, skeptical. “You’re teasing me, tempting fate.”

“Fate,” you hummed, “another Endless?”

She huffed, amusedly. “Destiny.”

“And you’re Death. That’s what I told Johanna I thought you were and the ritual worked, so you must be-”

“Ritual, you say?”

You nodded and took a step towards Death. Each of your limbs screamed with the burning of your blood, but you were much too enraptured. “A ritual.”

Death took a step towards you. “Must’ve cost a pretty penny, eh?”

“And more,” you replied. She was smiling, truly smiling.

“For what? Just to see me again? This is highly irregular, and I know irregular.”

You took another step, slower this time, more careful. Death followed suit until you caught her sugary scent. You remembered it from the first time, revelled in it, her familiarity.

“For this.”

“So, truly just to see me again, then,” she said, her smile reaching her eyes then. You took a breath and then a chance.

With your arm burning, you raised it, let your hand brush the seemingly empty air at her side. Soft and cool, a feather feeling tickled against your fingers. When you looked at Death, her eyes closed and her body shuddered. You quickly withdrew your hand.

“Sorry, I-”

“No,” she interrupted, eyes fluttering open as she took another step closer. She was warm, not cold like you had expected. “Just, just shut up.”

Her hands were warm too when they cupped your face, and soft. Her lips were soft too, gliding against yours. A kiss of Death. She tasted sweet and she melted all the burning pain away.

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