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nackrosor · 2 years

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~Dreaming of him~

𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓾𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2↫

warnings: smut and fluff, (less) p*orn with (more) feelings, oral s*ex (f! receiving), nudity

summary: reader falls asleep while thinking of Morpheus and has an e<rotic & emotional dream

words count: 3,312 k

"Finally!"

A loud sigh of satisfaction left your lips when you collapsed on your bed, sinking into the soft sheets and warm furry blanket.

You always looked forward to that moment, especially after a long busy day like the one you had just barely survived. You felt tired, like your whole vital lymph had been drained out and even slightly feverish although you knew it was your usual migraine making your heart pound in your head like crazy.

You needed to close your eyes and have a good night's rest. Your sore muscles however were making it a bit too hard to find a good position to sleep into.

There was only one efficient way to help you relax, to ease your tensed body and although you were quite sleepy you convened that pleasuring the tiredness off your body was what you needed. To this end, you turned and laid on your back, spreading your legs a little under the sheets. Your hand crawled under your nightgown and slipped unceremoniously in your panties.

You couldn't just touch yourself, tough. It wouldn't work. You needed to make up a fantasy in your mind or else you'd still be wanking in the morning. Well, perhaps not the morning but it would definitely take you a lot more time than you were willing to sacrifice that night. You needed to make something up real quick and with that aim in mind you closed your eyes and started rubbing your fingers on your clitoris.

You gasped when your mind presented you an highlight of a few different memories, all associated with the same person or well, a supernatural being. Morpheus.

You have had a crush on him since the first time you saw him in The Dreaming. He had helped you with a particularly aggressive nightmare and since that night you had had a few other brief but pleasant encounters. Literally everything about him intrigued you and captivated you. Although, his voice was what attracted you the most. It was like a soothing balm for your very soul but at the same time a lit match that aflamed your whole body with passion.

And it was his voice that you tried to recall and replicate in your mind as you touched yourself, making it whisper whatever you needed to hear to whet your arousal. With his deep voice came a vivid image of him, his charming eyes wandering over your exposed skin and his full lips parting to kiss his way to the inside of your legs, getting closer and closer to the point where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Y/N... " He whispered and you flinched a bit, startled at how the voice in your head could sound so real.

"Y/N?"

Maybe a bit too real.

Your eyes flied open and you heart almost jumped out of your chest. He was right there, in front of you, on your bed, kneeling between your legs, his crystal eyes curiously looking at you.

"I heard you call my name." he said, his gaze slowly traveling down your lying body, halting at your lower belly, were your hand disappeared inside your panties.

You followed it and gasped, abruptly withdrawing your hand and unfolding the nightgown that was rolled up to your hips.

"I fell asleep?!" you asked alarmed looking around you as you retreated a little to put some space between the two of you, leaning your back against the headrest. Morpheus was looking at your every move, amused, a small smile curving up his lips.

You were deeply mortified. How could it have happen? You were lying there in your bed, pleasuring yourself in the privacy of your room and then what happened? You fell asleep while thinking of Morpheus and inadvertently brought him to you? Oh God. You wanted to dig a hole in the ground right then and there and hide inside it forever or better yet, you wished you could immediately wake up and never ever dream again for the rest of your life. How could you look him in the face after that?

You tried to hide your embarassement as best as you could by covering your face behind your hand, fingers lazily scratching your forehead while you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to look up.

"Sorry...", you huffed in a whisper, "c-could you wake me up please?"

He chuckled in response at which you flinched a bit in surprise and your head snapped up. He moved your hand away from your face and took it in his.

"Why should I, Y/N?"

The look he was giving you was so genuine and alluring at the same time that you felt your heart missing a beat or two.

"You're here now...", he said, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle peck on its back, "exactly where you wanted to be."

Your breath itched at the touch and you gawked at him in disbelief. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? It took a moment for his words to fully register.

"I-I didn't mean to come here! I was just- I just wanted to... "

He smiled as he pecked your skin again, then turned your hand around and planted another delicate kiss on your palm.

"Morpheus?" the tremble in your voice betrayed your eagerness and he looked up, locking his gaze with yours.

"You were touching yourself thinking of me, calling my name."

He knew, he knew. Of course he knew. You wanted to melt, vaporize, get struck by a thunder! Anything!

"Isn't it true?" He arched an eyebrow, his head tilting a little to the side, his now seemingly innocent gaze boring into yours. You gaped at him, unsure how to react.

"Was it my hand that was pleasuring you?"

You gulped. The embarrassment of the situation couldn't keep you from feeling a growing warmth in your lower belly at the thought of the fantasy you were only a few minutes ago so nicely weaving in your mind.

"How did it feel?"

You wanted to answer that it was the best fantasy you ever had but you were stunned and kept your mouth shut. The whole situation felt unreal. It was unreal.

"Y/N? How did it feel to be touched by me?"

His gaze was too intense and you couldn't resist.

"So good."

The words spiraled out of your lips in a shaky huff before you could realize what was happening and stop yourself. You looked away, feeling ashamed.

"Oh?", he smiled, visibly amused. His hand moved on your cheek to caress it. You felt a light tingling where his fingers brushed over your skin, making your whole body shudder.

His fingers curled around your chin and he turned your head to face him. Your eyes locked for a moment before his gaze began to wander over your features, admiring every inch of your face, halting at your mouth. His thumb moved up to delicately brush the outline of your parted lips.

"Did I kiss you in your fantasy?"

He looked up at you and you flinched again, heart jumping in your chest. All you could do was shake lightly your head in response.

"No? Well, that's a shame. I think we require one kiss, at least."

He bent over you, slowly closing the distance between your faces. His lips brushed over yours in such a subtle way that made you lose your head and lean forward, attracted to him like a magnet. It seemed to you that your yearning was the only sign he was waiting for because as soon as you moved, his smiling lips crushed on yours. You moaned in the kiss, surprised by his eagerness. He was literally devouring you. His hands came to clench your sides and you felt like jelly, melting in his touch.

You were literally gasping for air when he leaned back, putting an end to that heated kiss.

Dream's eyes were scanning your face once again, seeming to revel at the sight of your flushed cheeks and dumbstruck look. Without uttering a single word, his lips moved back on yours only to tease you with a peck before he trailed them toward your cheek, then along your jaw, stopping at your neck, at the level of your throat. He planted a open mouthed kiss on that spot, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Morpheus?" you shakily whispered, "why are you doing this? Am I making you do it, somehow?"

You felt his hot breath on your skin as he chuckled and lightly shook his head. He sought your eyes and his hand gently cupped your cheek.

"You are not. I am still the ruler of this realm and I make your dreams."

He saw the puzzled look on your face and tried to explain himself better.

"This is your dream, Y/N. And I am, voluntarily, making it happen. I'll give you anything you wish."

"And you are willing to..."

"I am, my dear."

You searched his eyes, trying to understand, to catch any sign that could finally ease your mind about the whole situation. Was he really willing to play out your fantasy for you? Was he interested in you as you were in him? Would he take as much pleasure in having you just as you would in having him?

Feeling your hesitation, Dream captured your lips in another kiss, less voracious than the last one but equally passionate. It was slow and deep, in one word, intoxicating. Your eyes fluttered close and you reveled at the sensation of feeling desired by someone, by him.

He begrudgingly brought the kiss to an end just to move his lips up to your ear and whisper, "I want you, Y/N. Do you want me?", then moved back and locked his eyes with yours, now wide open.

Of course you wanted him! You were the one who had fantasised about him and brought him to you. You nodded repeatedly, mind already wandering in anticipation to what was to come.

Dream tilted his head a little, scanning your face.

"Y/N, I want you to say it" , his forefinger moved on your mouth to gently tap your lower lip, "I want to hear it from your lips."

"Yes, Morpheus", you cleared your throat to let your voice sound more full and confident. "This is what I want. This is my dream."

The beautiful smile that appeared on his face brought one to yours as well and a warm reassuring feeling rose in your chest.

In no time his lips were back on your neck to tease the sensitive skin there, under your jaw, on your jugular, down to the swell of your chest, stealing a series of moans from your lips. He threw a glance up at you and locked your eyes with his as he resumed his descent, peppering teasing kisses over the light fabric of your nightgown. He moved down in a straight line along your chest, kissing between your breasts, on your belly button, halting only as he hovered over your groin.

His fingers skimmed over your legs, igniting the skin through their climb toward the inside of your thighs. They danced around the hem of your nightgown, teasing you with the lightest of touches, before they slid beneath the fabric and reached the hem of your panties, tugging them down in an agonisingly slow pace.

"Morpheus, please..." you cried out impatiently, rubbing your thighs together to make up for the ever more frustrating absence of his touch where you most needed it.

He smirked up at you as he slid off your foot the last portion of your underwear. His hands moved on your knees to give them a little squeeze then trailed up your thighs, spreading them wide, fingers slowly dipping under the hem of your dress, traveling upwards.

"You are so beautiful Y/N."

That compliment caught you off guard and you blushed visibly, bit your lips and averted your eyes from his.

You were on the verge of begging him to touch you and put you out of you misery when he lifted your dress, dipped his head and slicked his tongue through your folds. You couldn't possibly hold back the loud moan that escaped you.

After a second solid stripe down your core he placed a soft kiss to your clitoris and peeked up at you to watch your face contorting, then he continued littering you with teasing kisses until you were writhing under his touch.

"Morpheus!" you cried in frustration as you squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips towards him.

He was pleased to see you so desperate under him and he chuckled, his warm breath going cool against the wetness between your legs, driving you mad.

While his hands gripped your hips to hold you down, he latched his lips to you and started dragging his tongue back and forth, occasionally swirling against your most sensitive button.

Your hands instantly found his head, fingers tangling in his dark hair and tugging at it, making him groan against you while you whined pathetically.

He moved to focus on the clitoris sucking gently at first then with more decisiveness. He pulled the little botton up into his mouth, just past the lips as he sucked on it up and down.

A loud deep moan escaped you when his tongue dove into your entrance, making you arch your back and bent your head backwards on the headrest.

You were already worked up before he started so it wasn’t long before you felt your release growing closer. All your muscles felt tense like a violin cord and your hands tightened their hold on each side of Dream's head, supporting his motion.

"Morpheus, I'm- I'm-"

Looking down, you met his eyes which watched your reactions with a hazy, love-drunk gaze. His tongue slid up to focus once more on your nub, sucking firmly on it a few times. That was the last straw for you. A second later a rolling wave of pleasure washed over you and you cried his name out loud, eyes squeezing shut and seeing stars, legs twitching around him. He had to plant his palms on your inner thighs to keep from being squeezed as he got back up.

He licked his lips as he watched you come back from the ecstasy, eyes lingering on the rising and falling of your chest gradually going back to normal and then on the contraction on your face fully abandoning your features to give them a relaxed and satisfied look.

He was smiling softly, hands caressing affectionately your thighs when you reopened your eyes and met his gaze. Your hands were still at the sides of his face so you gently cupped his cheeks.

"That was..." you whispered, still trying to regain your breathing, "that was intense."

He took your wrists in his hands and as his eyes fluttered close he placed a lingering kiss on both your palms. That sweet little gesture after the thoroughness and care he just put in giving you the best orgasm you ever had, felt so intimate and meaningful that it made your stomach flutter and your eyes start to sting a little.

"Did it measure up with your fantasy?" he genuinely asked, looking down at you with the most tender gaze.

You could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears and before he could notice, you leaned forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

"Are you kidding me?", you tried your best to swallow a sob as you nestled on his shoulder and against his neck "this was a billion times better."

His arms were around you in no time, hands supporting your back and he squeezed you against his chest making you feel so safe and happy and loved. You couldn't possibly hold back the tears any longer. A stifled series of sobs escaped your lips and you clinged tighter to him, fingers tugging at his robe.

"Y/N..."

His beautiful voice, resonating so close to your ear only made you more emotional. You genuinely had no idea what had gotten into you.

"Y/N, why are you crying?"

In an attempt to soothe you he ran one hand up and down your spine, while the other kept supporting your lower back.

"I don't know..." your shaky voice was interrupted by your sniffling, "I just- I've never felt like this... I'm so full to the brim of emotions and they're pouring out."

He hummed, nodding his head. "You must know that emotions here are amplified. It's totally normal to feel overwhelmed."

"Is that true?" The grip you had on his robe loosened and you leaned back seeking his eyes.

Dream immediately brought one hand to your face, wiping a tear from your cheekbone with his thumb.

"It is."

It made sense to you. That was still a dream, after all, even though one of a kind. And just like in any other dream you had, good or bad, everything you felt had been ten times more intense. You knew however that what Morpheus had made you feel was totally new for you, dream world or not. You've always yearned to know how it would feel to be desired, to be loved, and truly cared for and Dream had just given you all of that and more. At least that was what you felt. Was it real? Was that intense bubble of emotions pouring out of you real? And was it love? Or something else? Something made up entirely? Would you have felt different in the Waking World? All those unanswered questions were really starting to mess with your head.

You took a moment to scan his face, taking in all his beautiful features, the ones you adored so much. Your fingers reached up to follow your sight in its contemplation, grazing delicately over his skin as if you were scared he could disappear at a moment’s notice, but also as if you were touching a forbidden piece of art of invaluable worth and feeling undeserving of the permission granted to you to even stand so close to it.

You begrudgingly let your arms fall back.

"I'm sorry...", you sighed, giving him an apologetic smile, "I ruined the mood. It was your turn... You still want to...?" You babbled feeling a bit ashamed.

"Y/N. You have not ruined anything." he admonished kindly, brushing affectionately his hand through your hair. "And, I think we should keep something for the next time..."

You perked up at his words.

"For your next dream..."

"Right", you couldn't hide the hint of slight disappointment in your tone.

"Or-", he resumed, leaning forward, a knowing glint in his eyes, "for when you're awake."

As soon as the meaning of his words hit you, you gawked at him, a wide grin taking form on your lips.

"Y-you would?!"

Your earnest reaction made him smile and he nodded.

"If it will ease your mind, of course."

"Oh...", you averted his eyes, rubbing nervously your fingers against your cheek, "am I that easy to read?"

"Perhaps a little", he whispered, taking your hands in his, "the look you gave me just a few moments ago spoke louder to me than words could ever have."

With a sheepish smile you fiddled with his fingers in your lap then you interlocked them with yours and looked up.

"So", he said, leaning his forehead against yours, "until next time, my love?"

You screamed internally at the word 'love' he so earnestly uttered to adress you. There was no way you could refrain the wide smile that popped up on your face as you answered, "until next time".

You both leaned forward to meet in a soft and lingering kiss worth a thousand words.

"This dream is over."

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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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writethrough · 8 months

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The Sandman Collection

The Collections

I do not permit anyone to copy, repost, and/or share my work anywhere, translated or otherwise. However, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

All rights to the media and characters below belong to the original creators and writers.

ONE SHOTS

Hiding In Plain Sight (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ Helping Morpheus and the Dreaming has been the highlight of your night since you met him. When he notices your presence missing, the Dream King discovers that your eagerness conceals something he should've known.

A Homemade Remedy (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ After days of dealing with your sickness by yourself, you give in and call your boyfriend, hoping he'll come.

How to Mistakenly Summon An Ancient Being & Keep Him (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ You're an insomniac and have exhausted all other avenues to help you sleep except one. What happens when that one brings you the King of Dreams?

I Am Yours, Are You Mine (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ Morpheus' jealousy rises when he sees you with another man.

Kitty Comforts (Morpheus x GN!Reader) ⊹ You've had a bad day, and the thought of being around another body doesn't sit right with you. Morpheus comforts you in a way only he can.

Leather & Liner (Morpheus x GN!Reader) ⊹ You put eyeliner and Morpheus, and maybe an extra little embellishment.

Mid-Afternoon Dream (Morpheus x GN!Reader) ⊹ Morpheus enjoys his moment of peace with you.

The Physicality of Sitcoms (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ You watch a sitcom with Morpheus and discover something interesting.

Softly (Morpheus x GN!Reader) ⊹ You're busy with a late night, and Morpheus coaxes you to bed.

To Dream of Magic (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ On one fateful day, you unknowingly heal Dream of the Endless' raven. He must thank you for your kindness.

What A Luxury It Is to Have You (Morpheus x GN!Reader) ⊹ When you meet Morpheus, it doesn't take long for you to realize your dreams are real, and that means your nightmares are, too. They can hurt you if they catch you. The only way to make sure that never happens is to not fall asleep. Morpheus reassures you.

With Power Comes Misunderstandings (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ When Morpheus is late for your date, the only explanation is that someone's tried to harm him because of you—Supergirl's and Lena Luthor's daughter. After all, why else would they want your completely normal, powerless boyfriend?

MULTI-PART

The Accident That Led Me to You (Part I / Part II) (Morpheus x Fem!Reader) ⊹ A car accident gives you the ability to see Death whenever she's around. Months later, you see Morpheus for the first time. He notices you right away.

The Diviner (Morpheus x Prophetess!Reader)

BONUS CONTENT

Valentine's Day Date

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marvelsgirl616 · 1 month

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My little baby

#dream the sandman #dream icons #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x you #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #tom sturridge icons #tom sturridge

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silversweetpea · 2 years

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A Promise Made

word count: 1543

Summary: It dawns on him, in that moment, that you are much more fragile than he had expected. And equally so that this revelation unsettles him.

Warnings: Offscreen injury mentions, Reader gets lightheaded and slightly dizzy from blood loss.

Author’s Note: It is four am and I would like to imagine a bit of a protective situation as a bedtime story thanks. Also I’m not sure how I feel about this writing because I’m worried that the style is too similar to other writings i’ve done but again, it’s four am, I don’t know if I can trust my own opinions here.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

Dream was a difficult man shaped amalgamation to read, but that never stopped you from trying. Telling the difference between jaw clench of amusement and jaw clench of anger never got easier in the months since Johanna had called in an old favor for some help and you had met him, but you had a feeling you knew what emotion it was that darkened his gaze in this moment.

“I’m fine.” You said again, and you had to commend yourself on keeping the shake from your voice. The nightmare hadn’t seriously hurt you, part of you wondered if it would have though had Dream not found you when he did. Splitting up had seemed like a good idea at the time, it had made more sense to cover more ground, ask more people who they may or may not know the locations of. Even nightmares had friends, after all.

Dream hadn’t moved an inch in the chair beside your bed since you woke swaddle in the comforters. You didn’t know the details of what had happened after you passed out, there was just a vague memory of fear and then safety.

“Dream-” His gaze didn’t move from the bandages across your chest. A precaution, nothing more, but the wrappings were large enough to peek up under the collar of your shirt. There was a thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you that was gone as quick as it came when he spoke.

“When you are healed, I will have Mathew escort you home. Your assistance is no longer required.” The safety you had felt was a distant memory replaced with a chill.

“Excuse me?”

“I will find the rogue nightmare on my own.” Dream stood, eyes snapping shut. There was something in his features, or maybe the way that he held himself, that made your entire being bristle.

“The whole reason you asked Johanna for help was because you couldn’t.” Your body ached ever so slightly as you forced yourself into a sitting position. The sound of the bed creaking seemed to startle him, those eyes you had such complicated feelings for finally meeting yours. “This is ridiculous I’ve been more than helpful in this whole ordeal and you’re going to just send me home because of a scratch?”

“(y/n),” He took a step closer to the bed, hand reaching up as if to usher you back down to rest. A motion that never quite finished as his hand hovered in the space between you. It took you only another second to force yourself to your feet and enter his personal space.

“No, I want to see this through. I told you I would help and I’m going to.” You had never thought of the king of dreams and nightmares as a particularly intimidating person. Sure, he was brooding, but in a wet cat sort of way. Tall and lanky and dark, yet never scary, not when you had seen him so gentle with his friends.

“I do not want your help, nor do I need it any longer.” The words that should sting instead make you scoff. You were nearly toe to toe with him now, the hand that had hovered so noncommittedly in the air still airborne.

“And why’s that? Did you suddenly find her while I was passed out here?” It occurred to you for the first time that Dream was taller than he had ever been. He seemed to tower over you. It was harder to ignore the chill you felt this time than when you had been wrapped in blankets. “Or maybe the asshole that tried to kill me had a bit more information than I thought and you know exactly where she is now?”

“This is not up for discussion.” His narrowed gaze draws out a scoff.

“You’re being ridiculous. You can choose not to work with me but I’m going to help you.” The room spins ever so slightly as you turn to leave the room. You weren’t sure where you were going to go yet but you were sure you would figure it out as you went. The library maybe? Lucienne was busy but she knew more about the kingdom than anyone right now.

You had barely made it to the door before you could feel the soft pressure of a hand around your wrist.

“It would help me more,” Dream’s voice was soft and strained. As if the things he was saying pained him to put to words. “to know that you are safe.”

The room spins slightly harder and it occurs to you that maybe the nightmare had gouged you a bit more than you thought. The turn to face him is slower than any you have ever made and behind you you can glimpse the window. It isn’t quite raining out but the sky is unnaturally dark, clouds swirling like the stars in his eyes.

“What?” You can’t remember if blood loss can cause you to mishear people. You don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself even if it’s not.

“I could not protect you in my realm. How can I trust in my ability to do the same outside of it?” The silence feels deafening, like a creature with its own presence trying to pry the two of you apart. You try not to focus on its weight, however, instead distinctly aware of the fact that Dream is still holding your wrist. His touch is cooler than you had thought it would be but not quite unpleasant. In fact its quite the opposite.

“And you think sending me away will keep me safer than if I stayed with a literal king of dreams and nightmares? Really?” Your voice tremors and your skin feels electric from the contact. You want to rip your hand from his grasp and take his hand in both of your own at the same time. “Do you know how many beings out there would love to catch me alone right now?”

“You will not be alone, you will have Constantine.” Dream’s voice was barely more than a whisper. You wouldn’t think his lips had moved at all had you not been watching his face so carefully.

"You’re being an idiot,” The clouds are darker now, you hadn’t thought it possible but the sky seems to be absorbing the light that tries to warm it.

“You need to rest.” For the first time since you met Dream seems to be genuine in asking instead of assuming you will follow through with what he says. It almost makes up for the way that his eyes flit to your point of connection and slowly releases his grasp.

“Do you promise to be here when I wake up?” The bedroom is suffocatingly small in this moment, not helped by the waves of nausea rushing over your person.

“Why must you be so obstinate?” For what is meant to be an insult, Dream’s gaze and and tone are softer than one would expect. Or maybe not. For all the times the two of you have bickered you’re not sure you can remember ever hearing any sort of heat in his words towards you.

“Its the only way I can get you to notice me.” Usually your remark would earn you a slight smile, maybe a particularly strong exhale if Dream is particularly amused. Now though, you see only concern.

“I notice you regardless of your temperament.” You’re not even aware you’re reaching out until the man startles ever so slightly. Heaviness weighs upon your body and your grip tightens just barely. Just enough to try and pull him back from the way his thoughts visibly surround him.

“Dream,” Blue eyes search your own but you’re not sure what he’s looking for. His height is returning to that which you’re familiar with and its strange to see. To watch him shrink and soften before you all the while holding his hand in your grasp. Even as Dream nods, a just barely there movement you’re not even sure of at first, you think that he looks better this way. Familiar is good on him. So is Kind.

It’s easier to lean into him than you had thought it would be. The hand you insist on holding begins to gently steer you both back towards the bed, his free hand circling to hover over your lower back.

“Rest, we can continue this conversation when you awaken.” You’re scared to loose contact with him in case your...whatever Dream is at this point, will slip away in a moments notice. Even as he convinces you to sit you’re not entirely convinced that he’s not just waiting for a moment to usher you back to the waking.

“Do you promise?” Its your turn to whisper as you allow him to help you back to bed. For a heart stopping moment he stands at your bedside and you think he’s leaving.

And then, the chair is pulled closer to the bed, enough so that his knees touch the side of the mattress when he sits.

“I give you my word.” Dream’s voice is warm and soothing as hot chocolate on a winter night and from the window behind you you notice sunlight begin to filter through the window.

#Dream x reader #Morpheus x reader #Dream x you #Morpheus x you #Dream of the endless x reader #Dream of the endless x you #Morpheus fluff #Dream fluff #Dream of the endless fluff #Morpheus headcanons #Dream headcanons #Dream of the endless headcanons #Morpheus imagine #Dream imagine #Dream of the endless imagine

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 2 years

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Imagine reader singing 'A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes' from Cinderella to their and dream's child to put them to sleep and morpheus just catching them by the door way like 🥺

my ovaries, girl, you can't do this to me-

"A dream is a wish your heart makes ..."

Morpheus slowed down at the sound of the soft tunes.

"When you're fast asleep..."

He was on his way to Lucienne. Something important came up that needed the attention of the Dream Lord but when he recognized your voice, coming from the nursery, he stopped. And then turned. Because what could possibly be more important than this?

"In dreams you will lose your heartaches ..."

You stood with the back to him, barfeet, swaying softly as you sung to your daughter. His daughter.

"Whatever you wish for, you keep..."

His heart swelled at the babbling coming from the little girl in your arms. It was a scene he'd wished to remember forever.

"Have faith in your dreams and someday ..."

Morpheus had waited millenia for this moment. For you. For her. He had thought relationships weren't meant for him, they would always go up in flames. You taught him the opposite.

"Your rainbow will come smiling through..."

You turned and the most beautiful smile appeared on your face when you met his eyes. Still singing, you walked over to him.

"No matter how your heart is grieving..."

You placed her in his arms and his heart ached the way it always did when he looked at her. No creation of his would ever compare to the girl who wrapped her little hand around Morpheus fingers in this very moment.

"If you keep on believing ..."

Her eyes fluttered and he smiled. He had that effect on her. You bowed down, placing a kiss in between lines on her forehead before resting your own head on his shoulder.

"The dream that you wish will come true."

And with that, she fell asleep.

"She's perfect, isn't she?" You whispered.

Morpheus nodded. "She has to be. After all, she takes after you."

okay but Morpheus with a daughter, my HEART-

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

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Hello all well ? I couldn't help but want more of your beautiful story.😍😍

could give us more Morpheus and reader (Imagine being the one who frees Morpheus), where the people adore their new queen but morpheu thinks that I don't fulfill all the duties with his love, he didn't even ask her to marry him or had a coronation, but reader is calm about it.pleases thanks

[Check out the series HERE] || Sandman-inspired playlist

For the record, you weren't an actual queen as in the bride of a king. Despite that, the inhabitants of Dreaming collectively decided to treat you like one and soon you had found yourself to be part of the court hierarchy. Not that you could ever complain about such honour - you received a lot of love and respect for simply giving advice or asking someone to consider their grudge from a different perspective. To the inhabitants of Dreaming, who were used to Morpheus's just but strict reign, a droplet of sweetness and tenderness seemed to be like water is to a cotton-mouthed man.

Morpheus might have appeared oblivious to your social 'promotion' but he was perfectly aware of it. To his dismay, no one ever outright informed him that you have allowed or done something without his council, even if those were small, fairly insignificant matters in the grand scheme of an entire realmn. Morpheus had to rely on his own observations and whispers that seemed to completely disappear whenever he was around. In any case, he had realized that there existed an entire world he was not privy to when he heard someone excitedly whisper 'Our queen' for the very first time. Dreaming did not, in fact, have a queen. Not officially, at least.

Your selflessness captured his heart, which was obvious, but it had also, quite literally, killed you for a moment. Maybe it was his fear of losing you for good or his sympathy towards the struggles you had suffered on his accord, that made Morpheus adamant about having you think solely of yourself for the first time in your life, to finally be at peace after everything you had been through. As one might expect, his desire surely did not include having you fulfil part of his royal duties. The guilt gnawed at him until one day Morpheus found himself unable to ignore the current state of affairs.

He was marching through the crystal halls of his palace prepared to dress you in silk and diamonds or do anything else that would somehow compensate for the bland weight of ruling you had on your shoulders. If he could, if you allowed him to, he'd tear it right off and break his own spine accommodating it.

Morpheus's rushed footsteps suddenly stopped when he noticed you standing on the balcony, leaning against the marble ledge. Your back was turned to him and for a moment he indulged in his selfish desires; watching your dress gently dance on the warm breeze, he wondered whether there truly was something divine about you. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you could tell him what heaven is like as you sure know it like the back of your hand. Or perhaps spring, the mother of hope and rebirth, had recognized its own face in yours, telling the wind and the sun to warm you on cold days. But if you were spring, like Persephone, was he not akin to Hades?

Such thought made him shudder. The quicker he solves his plight, the faster this feeling of dread and shame will dissolve. In fact, it seemed like blasphemy to experience something so bitter and bleak while you were within his arm's reach.

Hearing footsteps against the marble floor, you slightly turned around to see who had decided to visit you. Although the sight of Morpheus did excite your heart, the grim expression on his face, a shadow that towered over his regal beauty, quickly calmed the thrill inside you.

"You should not be fulfilling my duties for me," he stated. Strangely enough, he sounded angry.

Unable to tell what could sour his mood like that, you furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Morpheus, although I have to be honest that I do not know what duties you're speaking of. I never meant to cross you, dear."

Morpheus didn't answer. He made his way towards you and did not stop walking until the tips of his shoes were brushing against yours. So far, you couldn't quite tell whether he was oblivious to a certain social etiquette or simply liked being so close to you.

His ocean-like eyes bore into you as if he was trying to enter your own mind and make himself at home there. If you were asleep, perhaps he could but you were awake and that forced him to actually speak his thoughts, although reluctantly: "Are you happy here?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Morpheus pursed his lips at your answer. Perhaps he was expecting a slightly different reaction from you - one that did not include voicing his introspection and making friends with vulnerability. "You tend to my subjects, bring order and prosperity into Dreaming, and yet I have failed to give a wedding worthy of a queen. You are bearing the weight of the crown without its splendour. It is unfair towards you."

"Have you considered that I simply want to spend time with your subjects?" you asked him with a gentle smile. Ever since he sought you out on the cold beach, you've learned that Morpheus cared a lot. Probably more than he himself was capable of understanding. His problem, however, was adequately expressing it. "Treat them as my peers, help them in their plights. You can't be everywhere all the time, Morpheus. Let me help you, just a little."

But he remained unconvinced. "A queen should wear a crown, have the king at her beck and call. The people of the realm shall praise their gods for being allowed in her vicinity." As he spoke, Morpheus reached to gently grab your hand and put it against his chest and though he was a child swearing by their own honesty. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. "It surely did not escape your attention that I have failed at granting you the honour and glory you deserve."

"The crowns, the dresses, the jewels - they're all very nice but what real difference do they make?" you asked. The question must have elicited some kind of reflection from him as his thumb stopped its soothing movement. "Strip all of that away and there remains only you and I. Believe me when I say, that I need nothing more and wish for nothing less."

His once bleak expression turned into something more gentle as though the yearning of his heart refused to remain hidden any longer. "My heart tells me to drown you in indescribable wealth and yet my mind tells me to let you be as you wish." As it appeared, such dissonance and lack of clarity were exceptionally rare for Morpheus. Gently and somewhat fearfully, he rested his forehead against yours. "How can you, a human, hold so much power over me?" he whispered.

A quiet giggle escaped your mouth. "I believe people refer to it as 'being in love'."

He felt his breath hitch as your lips softly kissed his forehead.

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oreosmilkshakes · 2 years

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Once Upon A Dream

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x reader Fandom: The Sandman Word Count: 2,666 Warnings: Dark Morpheus, light mentions of inappropriate touching, light obsessive behaviour, light violence. A/N: This is a one shot! This is a Hades and Persephone sort of trope, or at least I hopefully did it the right way! Enjoy!!

Taglist: NIL

--------------------------------------------

To some, dreams are meant to be an escape from reality. To a realm where there are endless possibilities, to live in imaginary worlds where everything is perfect and flawless and to get away from reality’s problems.

To [Name], it’s just that. Everyday, she was thankful to return to the same dream. Lush, green meadows, blooming spring flowers, a small, quaint town with kind people. It brought a smile to [Name]’s face, her heart longed to be in this dream forever but she knew it could never happen.

She met with the residents, the old men and women treated her better than those in the real world. They cared for her, unlike them and she returned the action. [Name] would spend her day in the libraries or visit the town fountain to watch the children play as the sound of their giggles were like music to her ears. She would also wander to the meadows just a short walk away from the town.

However, there was something bugging her all the time. In the far distance sat a mountain. But the mountain was nothing like the town, full of vibrant colours. No, it was dark and everything about it screamed evil. She was hesitant to ask the locals about it, afraid she would not receive the answer she sought for so she kept to herself for the moment. [Name] picked up a flower and rested it on her ear, turning to town and left for it.

[Name] was a curious girl at heart. She wanted to know everything that would peak her curiosity and she figured the library would be the best place. Hence, she would always spend the majority of her time there.

Little did she know, a raven with feathers as dark as the night, perched atop a lamppost, its big eye looking down at [Name] resting on the window settee with a book open. He let out a loud croak and with wings outstretched, he took flight. Up, up and up he went, towards the top of the mountain where a lean figure stood. Little feet landed by the boot. The wind blew against the two.

“What do you have for me, Matthew?”

Matthew cleared his throat. “Well, um..It’s the usual routine, sir. Talking to the locals, reading in the library, spending time with the children,”

Morpheus stood with his back straight, hands clasped behind his back with dark eyes focused down on the little town. His tongue darted past his lips, wetting them.

“If I may, sir-,”

“No. You may go, Matthew. You will still do your duty of watching her in the waking realm. And tell no one of this. Understood?” He spoke with such a low voice, it almost ruffled Matthew’s feathers.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Matthew left shortly, leaving Morpheus alone on the mountain.

Soon, my dear

So very soon, you will be in my possession

Matthew would report back to Morpheus privately everyday on how [Name] was and it varied each day. Morpheus knew so much about her but he wanted more. Oh, he definitely wanted much more.

So far, this is what Morpheus knew from Matthew’s observation.

[Name] lived in Singapore and she worked as a secretary to a boss who Morpheus did not like. Matthew had informed him that her boss was the creep type and the King did not understand how [Name] was unfazed by his actions. Perhaps her naivety clouded her eyes from the straying eyes of her boss. [Name]’s co-workers were pretty much not very nice ones and it almost seemed as if they were alienating her.

When asked about it, Matthew replied, “They are jealous of her. Apparently, this sort happens everywhere with lower paid employees would whisper nasty shit behind the higher paid employees,” and Morpheus understood enough.

Morpheus also knew that she lived in a rented apartment with her roommates. Matthew said they were nice people to [Name] and it put Morpheus’s heart at ease. She also owned a black cat named Luna and she had a profound love for them. So much so that she would help out at the animal shelter as well as volunteering in events relating to animals and such. This information would be deemed useful for future uses, of course.

Morpheus would urge more out of Matthew and the raven would tell more.

On the weekends, [Name] would walk her feline friend in the park. She would also visit various botanical gardens all around the small country. She would take pictures of the animals, the insects as well as the flora there. This brought a rare smile to Morpheus’s lips.

She was perfect.

She was perfect to be his queen.

Morpheus couldn’t wait for that day to come.

But just like the perfect possession, everyone wants a piece of it. To taint it for the worse.

One day, Matthew came into his throne room, flapping frantically and a light pant to his little chest. Morpheus shot up from his throne, concerned covering his pale complexion.

“What’s wrong, Matthew?”

“S-Sir, I–,” Matthew inhaled deeply.

“Speak, raven,” Morpheus rumbled, eyes darkening.

“It’s [Name], sir. She..She’s..,” Matthew stammered and Morpheus did not wait any longer.

Morpheus found himself in [Name]’s dimly lit room. She was curled up on her bed, the cat snuggled against her curled form. The King tilted his head. Everything seemed well until he picked up a faint scent of salt and water. That’s when Morpheus leaned over. Tears had dried on her skin and it clenched Morpheus’s heart. Why were there tears staining her delicate skin? The purity of it, tainted by the saltwater. He brought cool fingers to her cheek, gently caressing it to wipe away the imperfections.

Little patters of feet approached the King.

“I saw everything, sir. Her boss..He touched her inappropriately,” Matthew peered up, focused on the King’s back facing him. The silence was deafening, the rage Morpheus felt, was not. He was not going to let this slide.

“Where is he?”

“He’s on the bridge-,” Matthew didn’t need to say more as Morpheus disappeared.

Alan stuck his hands in his pockets, taking short steps to admire the view around him. The castle, the greenery, it was unlike anything he has ever seen. And the last he will ever.

Alan blinked once, the castle in view once more. He blinked again, the sparkling water below reflected everything above it. Alan blinked one more time and all was gone. Sand replaced his surroundings. Vast, barren land of sand and nothing more. He gasped, looking around at the sudden change.

“I absolutely hate it..when someone goes about touching what’s mine,” Morpheus spoke lowly, a punctuated threat in each word.

Alan gasped, spinning back to face the King.

“What are you–,” “I’m talking about [Name], Alan Wu,”

“How did you know–,” A hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed, cutting the air off. Morpheus raised Alan off his feet as flailing hands tried to ease the pressure around his neck.

“I know what you did, Alan. You may think you have done it discreetly but I have eyes everywhere. My queen came home crying because of what you did and I find it unacceptable. How dare you..How..dare..you..,” Morpheus growled, jaw tight.

“Your punishment, then, will be a curse,” He tightened his grip.

“The curse..of eternal sleep,” The King uncurled his free hand, blowing lightly sand onto Alan’s face. His resistance soon weakened, eyes drooped and he grew limp. Now, all Morpheus had to do was to chuck him aside as if he was nothing and returned to [Name]’s room.

A tiny smile spread across his full lips, cool fingers brushing her cheek once more. He leaned in, lips ghosting over her ear.

“He is no more. I promise you, my love, I will give you whatever you dream of. Anything you ever wanted, it could be yours..Just get close to the cave on the foot of the mountain in your dreams..I will take you away,” Morpheus promised, pressing a very light kiss to her ear. [Name] moaned quietly in her sleep, her own smile curled on the corner of her mouth.

Once again, [Name] found herself back in her dream, back in the same little town she loved dearly. This time, it was different. There was something different about it and it was leading her towards the dark mountain.

She shook her head, clutching the book to her chest as she approached the bookstore owner.

“Good morning, Miss Elaine,” “Good morning, deary. What can I do for you?”

[Name] bit her lip lightly. Oh, better do it now then later.

“I just wanted to ask..everyone spends their day in the town and beyond but no one has ever travelled towards the mountains. Why is that?” [Name] noticed Miss Elaine visibly tensed, head snapping up to face the naive girl.

“There’s stories about it, deary. Mostly bad ones,”

[Name] tilted her head.

“What sort of stories?”

Elaine pursed her lips before sighing.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. Within the walls of the mountain lives a being that should one stumble upon him, it would drive him mad. Over the last century, only the stupid and the overly curious would venture close enough to the cave and never return,”

[Name] gasped.

“But these are just stories, right? I-It can’t be real..,” “That’s the thing, dear. Folks around here believe it to be real. Old man Fletcher even claimed he saw a figure standing atop the peak of the mountain. Whatever you do, do not go near the mountain. You hear me? Never go towards the mountain or the cave,”

[Name] pursed her lips and nodded, thanking Elaine quietly before dashing out towards the meadow fields where her favourite tree rested. White poppies grew around the large oak tree and [Name] grew to love them. She smiled wide, kneeling down to pick a flower up. Her eyes fluttered close as she brought the flower to her nose, inhaling the smell deeply. It brought so many deep memories she did not know she had.

As soon as she opened her eyes, a dark figure emerged behind the flower in a blur. [Name] gasped, focusing on the figure in the far distance with wide eyes.

The figure was tall, surely taller than her. He wore a black robe that flowed past his feet and a helm with an odd tube looking shape that looked roughly like bones. The figure turned, disappearing into the dark cave.

She was compelled, curious. She swallowed, gathering her book to follow the figure.

The hairs on the back of [Name]’s neck stood on end and her body tensed the closer she got to the cave. It was as if it was pulling her into it, whispering and tempting her to break the rule and to satiate her curiosity.

This made the girl stop short of the foot of the mountain, turning around to look back at the cave. There was still the opportunity to run back, back to safety and away from this evil.

Why run when it’s better to seek the answers you have been dying to know? Said an airy whisper, making the girl jump in shock. Her attention was back to the cave and there was total darkness..except with two white dots in the long distance.

“Come to me, [Name]. Come to me..,” The voice purred, sending shivers down her spine. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, chewing on it as she took a step forward. And another..and another and as she did, a black hand reached out through the darkness of the cave.

[Name] swallowed, lifting a shaking hand up to guide it to the outstretched hand. However, before she could make a final decision, the hand grabbed her own and pulled her in. A loud scream left her lips as darkness swallowed her and soon..nothingness. Just pure black and a spinning view.

[Name] came to be shortly after, gasping aloud as she sat up with a hand to her chest. The book was placed nicely beside her..on grass?

“What..?” She stood up, dusting the dirt from her dress as she surveyed her surroundings and what stood before her made her jaw drop from the magnificent sight. A shining palace with an intricate design stood tall, proud and majestic. Was she dreaming? Was she still asleep? She has to be, right? Because [Name] was sure nothing like this existed in the real world.

[Name] looked back down and she concluded that she was in the palace’s gardens. But, how did she get here? This still remained a mystery to the poor girl as she wandered the grounds of the garden.

It looked similar to the meadows of the little town with flowers blooming around her and along the cobblestone path she took. This sort of reminded her of the story her mother used to tell her. The story about the Greek God of the Underworld, Hades and his queen and wife, Persephone, the Greek Goddess of agriculture and spring where Persephone ate a pomegranate and was tied to Hades forever. But stories were stories, especially ones about gods.

[Name]’s journey took a short pause as she spotted a gate that led to another section of the garden. Perhaps this was the way out? She pushed past the gate, entering a whole new section. There were trees, fruits bored on its branches and hanging heavy, as if it was waiting to be plucked and eaten ripe. On cue, [Name]’s stomach growled. She smiled widely, a skip in her step as she examined the fruit trees. All of them looked enticing and delicious but what caught her attention was the biggest tree among the others, with bright, red pomegranates hanging from its branches.

[Name] scoffed lightly. The irony was truly real, wasn’t it? Trapped in an unknown place with a pomegranate tree? Stories were just stories, [Name] reminded herself as she set the book down on the bench.

She reached out, plucking the pomegranate from its branch. She brought it back to the bench, taking a seat with a wide smile on her full lips. Thumbs dug into the red skin, bursting the fruit open to reveal bright, juicy seeds. Her mouth watered at the sight as she took a handful. [Name] plopped the seeds into her mouth, chewing slowly and as she swallowed, her eyes fluttered close to savour the taste.

While the fruit tasted sweet, yet evil, she realised the irony.

She dropped the fruit, it rolled down the small slope before bumping into a black boot. [Name] realised her situation at the very last minute. But stories were stories. So, there is no way it is true..is it?

“It is, my love,” The deep voice answered.

[Name] looked up to face the voice, frozen on the spot as Morpheus stood beneath the pomegranate tree.

“You ate a fruit from my garden so now, you are forever tied to me and my realm. None of this is a dream, my love as it is very much real. How did you think the stories came to be?” Morpheus took a step forward and brought his hand up to [Name]’s cheeks.

“I have always wanted you, my queen and finally seeing you here, in the flesh, in my realm on my palace grounds, it is breathtaking. My obsession comes to an end here as I finally got what I wanted,” He continued, nose to nose brushing.

“Oh, my dear [Name], the lengths I went through just to get you here with me,” Morpheus leaned in, lips hovering over [Name]’s sweet ones. The smell of it, mixed with her natural scent and perfume was intoxicating and addicting.

“Soon enough, you will learn to love me,”

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to wail.

But nothing came out.

For she truly is Persephone and him, Hades, of their story.

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lis-likes-fics · 1 year

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Apple of My Eye

Pairings: Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 12.2k Warnings: Angst, torture, injuries... A/N: I really love this idea and this character, she’s just so fcking sarcastic and dramatic while literally being tortured, and I think that’s beautiful. Enjoy!

"I give you the sweetest apple blessed with Asmodeus' curse."

Roderick Burgess stood before a summoning circle as his cult of worshippers surrounded him in dark cloaks and darker magic. The room was silent, other than the silent chants of his followers underneath his demanding voice.

"I give you the rare black lily of the calla."

Eight years after his failure to capture Death, and now Burgess has decided to take a new approach. If he couldn't summon Death, he would try for a different type of being. One who would have no choice but to give him what he wants. Someone bound to him.

"I give you a feather plucked from the wing of a sacred dove."

A muse.

As he discarded the pure, white feather, he felt the force of his magic under his palms. He reached off to the side where Alex slowly stepped forward to offer a small knife to his father, who all but snatched the blade from his hand with the urgency of a bitter old man.

"I give you the blood from out of my veins." He watched the thick, red liquid seep from the cut made in his wrist and into the concoction of offerings.

A follower presented him with a silver platter, which lay a still organ fresh from an animal's chest. "And I give you the heart of the sacrificial goat, for you to feast upon the darkest desires which reside within it."

He felt the air swirl around him, frantically grasping onto whatever stillness it could as magic disrupted it with the stench of greed.

"I summon you with love." A bright light shone from above their heads. "I summon you with agony. I open the threshold, I open the gates. I summon you in the names of the lords of desire. Himeros, Pothos, Eros, Asmodeus."

The circle began to glow, a bright light shining from its boundaries in white light. "We summon you together. Come!"

Burgess' demand resounded along the large room. A bright flash blinded them all, and they covered their eyes to protect themselves from its glow.

Then the light disappeared and the room stilled at an abnormal speed, drenching it in shadows once again. Each person slowly peaked out of their shielded stances to see what had changed. Their breaths were held as they saw a woman, a beautiful woman in a gown lying on the cold floor with weak eyes and a limp body.

"Get the chains, go," he demanded Alex, who quickly moved to grab the freezing metal to pass over.

Roderick bent down to fasten them to the woman's hands, the thick shackles binding her as she lay still on the floor. He watched her eyes blink slowly, so hooded and nearly shut from the exhaustion of his spell.

His lips pulled into a small smirk, cockiness flooding his gaze as he stared at her. "You belong to me."

She didn't respond, she simply stared back at him until her eyes slowly fell shut and she was consumed by darkness.

A breath suddenly filled your lungs as you opened your eyes. Consciousness slipped into your skin, soaking into you as you awoke. You felt the ice cold pinch of the ground against your face, your bare arms burning with the sensation. You let out the breath, shifting to sit up in a more comfortable position as you willed your body to wake before you did something rash and got yourself killed.

Your eyes flicked to the shackles on your wrists and the summoning circle around you. The cold metal chaining you here was attached to the ground, embedded so deeply that, with all your strength, you could not move it. No matter how hard you tried, you could not get out. They were unordinary, they magical bound you in a way that made escape impossible.

You were trapped.

You heard footsteps, along the rhythmic tap of a cane against the stone floor. You turned your gaze to the man advancing toward you, your gaze hard and dangerous.

"You're awake," the older man spoke. He was the one you saw before you succumbed to the darkness, your captor. "So good of you to join us."

Your lips formed a hard line as you watched him. Your gaze raked over his form. His suit was highly expensive, his cane even more so, and his hair was golden with strands of grey and white in its mix. He was a tired, old man whose eyes gleamed with greed.

You licked your lips and let out another sigh. "Where am I?"

"Oh, good," he breathed, glancing away as if looking at something before turning his cold gaze back to you. "You aren't silent."

Your gazes never wandered from one another, not when a boy behind him shifted uncomfortably, not when men flanking the door that was her escape shuffled on their feet as they stood at the ready.

"I am Roderick Burgess," he said, "and you are, as I gather, one of the nine muses." You tilted your head to the side as his evaluation. He raised a brow, "Am I correct?" You mirrored his expression, head tilted and brow raised. He was getting impatient. "Well, which are you? Clio? Melpomene? Calliope?"

You rolled your eyes but relented, almost humorously at his terrible assumptions. "I am not a muse."

Burgess hummed, "Oh? Then what are you?"

You didn't respond. You did, however, allow the smallest hint of a smirk to grace your features as you looked up at him.

He took your silence with an exasperated sigh. "Now you are speaking, are you? Just like him?" His voice raised slightly, paranoia sinking in. "Are you with him?"

He pointed his cane toward something. You turned your head in the direction he gestured to.

You nearly gasped at the sight, eyes widened slightly as you took in a man. No, he was no man. He was Endless.

You looked at him, the Endless you knew could only be known as Dream. The Dream, Ruler of Dreams and Nightmares, kin to Desire—your ruler.

You watched him stare at the both of you, watching your interaction with silent lips and guarded eyes. His pale skin seemed to glow, his dark eyes sparked with the galaxies that were held within them.

You turned away before you couldn't. You shook your head at Burgess, steeling your face once more as you returned to stubbornness. "No."

"Hm," is all he said in return. He contemplated for a moment, taking in the sight of you with calculating eyes.

You sighed, "Why am I here?"

He considered before telling you. "I want something. Give it to me, and I shall set you free."

You glanced over your shoulder, but did not look at the Endless behind you. "And him, too?"

Burgess furrowed his brow. "What is he to you?"

You didn't respond, offering your silent alternative to your cooperation as you gave him a look to let him know.

He rolled his eyes and huffed. "If you can give me what I want," he looked at you, "you will both walk free."

You smiled, leaning onto your side with a sudden lax. If all you had to do was your job, then you would.

"What do you desire, Roderick Burgess?"

He was quiet before he spoke. "My son was stolen from me by Death, lost during the Gallipoli Campaign." Your smile faltered a moment. "If you can return him to me, alive and well, you both may leave."

You sighed, your smile falling from your lips as you looked down at his shoes. You sat up again, "Your desire is beyond me."

He tilted his head, not as upset as you thought he'd be. He must be used to the rejection then, "You won't give him to me?"

"I can't give him to you. I can only grant certain desires, not fabrications like," you had to contain your laugh at the prospect, "life after death." You shook your head, locking your bottom lip before facing him again.

His exasperation was sinking in as he huffed angrily. "Can no one give me what I want?"

You shrugged, "What you ask to is improbable, impossible."

He focused his hard gaze on you once more. "What can you give me?"

"What do you desire that would set me free?"

"I want my son back."

You sighed, granting him a look full of pity, taunting and teasing. "Then I will say no more."

You did just that, sitting back and showing the end of your cooperation as you stared at him.

"Very well, then," he said. "I will take what I can." Then he turned his back and began to depart from the cellar you were trapped in. The sound of his footfalls were soon accompanied by those of the boy who trailed quickly behind him.

"I will get what I want."

You rolled your eyes as the doors shut, your shielded face falling slightly as you turned away. You looked straight at Dream, his prison of glass and gold binding rendering him just as imprisoned as you as you stared.

He shared your gaze with a look of sympathy and knowledge.

For a couple of times, Burgess ignored you entirely. He came in once a day to go to Dream, to demand from him gifts he did not deserve and or could not, only to be met with more silence from the dream lord that would not speak.

But something changed when he came in and made his way directly to you. The determination in his eyes was near elation as the smile on his face gave you a paranoid look. He knew.

He stopped in front of you, looking down on you like you were a creature meant to be crushed under his boot. He spoke after a long silence as you simply stared back at him.

"Since you will not give me what I want, I will simply have to take it from you." The words lingered in the air as you remained silent.

His hands, which were clasped behind him, moved to reveal a book he had hidden behind his back. He showed it to you, a grimoire filled with old magic and you would rather not have laid eyes on.

"It is amazing," he started, "what information you can find in a book." He opened it up, flipping to a page with a self-satisfied grin. "And it appears to me that the Malum are creatures that come from the Endless called Desire."

Your eyes widened slightly at his revelation, a confirmation of what you suspected he'd figured. He knew. He knew who you were, what you were.

He knew the Malum were beings made from Desire, beings who granted desires to those who asked. He knew how to summon you, he knew how you granted desires, and he knew how to force you to give it.

"So I am right?" he chuckled, closing the book loudly. You clenched your jaw. He shook his head, no sign of annoyance in his face as he smiled triumphantly, confidence oozing from him.

"That's alright. I don't need your words." He pulled a pocket knife, small and ornate with small details made with golden design. He set the book down, out of your reach. "I only need your pain," he said as he knelt. He took your right arm in his, forcing the chains up to reveal the inside of your wrist. He just needed the confirmation as he revealed to him the dark little marking of an apple's silhouette.

You tried to scoot away, but he was stronger with your chains on. He grasped your arm tighter, pulling you toward him.

For a moment, for a reason you could not explain, your eyes found Dream. And, in that moment, your eyes pleaded for aid you both knew he could not give. He raised his hand against the glass, wanting to reach you, to help you. But he just watched, lips parted in regret as Burgess' blade sliced a small incision in your skin. A few droplets of blood seeped from the wound, pooling there but hardly dripping in a more merciful wound than you knew he was capable of.

You winced at the slight pain that bloomed there. "Let's start small, shall we?" he wondered, sliding his knife back into his pocket. He held your arm in a vice grip, squeezing it in a way that allowed more blood to bubble from the wound. He looked at you, his icy gaze sending a tremor through your spine.

"Give me the riches that I asked from him when he wouldn't give it." A sickening smile spread over his lips. "This is my desire."

You felt as he forced the magic out of you. He saw the flash of crimson in your eyes, a signal that his desires were being granted to him. He let go of you, dropping your arm carelessly with a force that shoved you to the ground.

"That's more like it."

You glared at him, holding your arm to cover the wound. You brought your hand up to see the flood staining your fingers before covering the wound and looking at him. "I cannot bring back your son. I don't have the power."

"I know," he promised. "But I have use of you yet."

With that, he left you behind to sit on the cold floor. You looked at your arm again, watching the blood smear.

Your eyes met Dream again, his gaze softer than you expected as a bubbling anger lay beneath them. You looked back down to the ground, shrinking under his gaze.

You let out a long breath and laid down on the cold floor, your mind racing with everything that has just happened in merely a few minutes.

And what might continue to happen to you for what felt like a long time to come.

You recognized you were caught in the remnants of a dream as soon as you saw it. You recognized Dream even quicker, the way he stood among the meadow uncharacteristically placed within your sleeping mind. You moved to stand next to him, sighing gently. You breathed in the scent of open freedom, you could almost smell it.

He stood silently next to you, his cloak flowing in the imaginary breeze, hands stuffed in his pockets. You both stayed like that, standing next to each other in silence as you enjoyed with him what you believed to be the first dream he has entered since his capture.

The guards never slept for fear of his escape, but you could never escape, so you had that freedom at least. Sweet, sweet dream.

"Will they come for you?"

His words were deep and bellowing in a voice smooth as sweet vermouth. But you shook your head, looking out onto the horizon you longed to see again in person.

"No one will come for me."

"Not even Desire?"

A gentle chuckle rose from your chest, and you shook your head. "They either do not care or have too many Malum to notice that I'm gone." You ignored the sinking feeling in your chest at the reality of your words. "I am alone."

He hummed deeply. "Perhaps not entirely."

You looked over at him, and he finally looked at you. A slow smile spread over your lips before you turned away again. Both your gazes fixed on the setting sun in your dream, the time you had left.

"What is your name?" he asked.

You thought for a moment before you told him, granting him another glance. Dream repeated it, staring across the landscape to compare it to the sunset.

"I am truly sorry for the life to come," he said. If you hadn't been listening, you would have missed how deeply his sincerity reached.

You hummed in response, nodding gently before turning your body to look at him. He tilted his chin toward you, but continued to face the horizon.

You tilted your head and smiled. "What is it you desire?" you questioned, examining each detail of his face with a new appreciation to his beauty.

"Our freedom." He put it simply, inclining his head away from you and toward the sky. You hummed and examined the splotches of pink on his pale cheek.

He spoke again, a new edge to his voice as his steely gaze hardened on the sun. "And to rain vengeance on those who would dare to take it."

You smiled, mischievous and satisfied as you turned back toward the sunset, which had almost disappeared from view. You took a leap, hooking your arm through the crook of his still left open and taking a step closer into his side. You didn't look at him as you did so, opting to avoid any unwanted looks that may be waiting for you if you did (although, there were none to be found).

"One day," you promised.

Two years later, your promise had still been unfulfilled. But Burgess' was.

Burgess had desire after desire, each more selfish than the last as he granted himself riches and wealth and power and fame. Soon, he opened the offer to those appointed at your guards. Some of them were more than happy to exploit that offer, to take from you their own selfish desires and expose them to be the cruel beasts you had always known them to be.

One day hope came, and it seemed as though men were all too eager to prove their evil.

All you heard was the frantic flapping of feathers, loud and beating as you slowly sat up from the icy ground. A bird flew into the cellar, a white bellied raven who beat and tapped against Dream's cage. His eyes glittered, sparking with a sense of joy you had yet to see on him until then. And, for the first time in years, he smiled. He watched her, watched her struggle to free her master—her friend—from his containment.

But you saw Alex. You saw him and Burgess and the guards at the door as he held a shotgun tight within his grin. You moved without thinking, reaching toward the bird to grab her attention before the unspeakable could happen. But your chains ripped your hands back down to the ground as you tried to move, willing your body to get closer and protect her.

You let out a shout, drowned in the sound of a thunderous gunshot. The blood spattered along the glass, red dotted your face and skin. You stared wide eyed at the animal shot dead on the cold, hard ground. The chains shuffled as you tried to reach out to take her after coming from your statue-like state.

The movement and the sound startled Alex, too sudden and too much for his adrenaline packed mind as he suddenly pointed and shot at the first moving target he saw. A shout clawed its way out of your throat, falling back against the ground from the force of only a few of the bullets lodging into your flesh. He'd mostly missed.

You lay on the ground, breathing thickly as your head swarmed with signals that shouted Pain! Pain! Pain! Blood pumped loudly in your ears, your heart thumping heavily to try to focus on what to do in response without the use of your hands.

You couldn't hear anything of what was going on. Your pulse was too loud, your heart thunderous. It took your mind a long time to clear before you could gather enough thought process to shift enough to be able to bring your hands to your right shoulder, where the most pain was coming from.

You looked down, watching the blood stain your dress. Moments later, a woman came toward you with a case at her side. She was dressed in white from head to toe as she set down the white case in front of you. The Burgess' were gone, only Dream and the guards were left. You had not noticed them leave, or the guards sit, or the nurse even come in.

She knelt beside you and began working to fix your wounds. You were too useful to Burgess for you to die, weren't you? No, he would be keeping you. A gunshot wound from his sun was just an inconvenience. You would be spared for the use of more torture later on.

Your hazy gaze met Dream's teary eyes after a moment, your brain too slow to process too long a look as you stared at him, committing him to memory like you had done so many times before.

Night had taken over. You were sitting in your poorly cleaned spot, staring at the chains shackled to your wrists as you tried not to move too much. Your shoulder was plagued by sharp pain, stitched and patched to let it heal. You were trying to fall asleep, to rest so that you could at least spend a short dream with your fellow captive, but the pain was too great.

The guards had stepped out of the room, something about a smoke break. It was late enough that they would not be caught neglecting their duties if they stepped outside for a few moments.

When you heard the door open, you suspected the guards. You were wrong as the soft, slow footsteps of Alex Burgess resounded along the room. Both your gazes dragged up to him, darkened and dangerous, daring him to come closer.

He was holding a plate in his hand. You can smell the fragrance of the fruit on the plate as he takes slow, hesitant steps forward. His face is drenched in sorrow and regret, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"I thought you might like something to eat," he mumbled when he had enough courage to speak.

You tilted your head and said nothing. His eyes shifted between you and Dream before he finally took slow steps to get to you. He sat just outside of your reach to set the plate down, scooting it over for you to take.

You looked down at the plate, sliced honeycrisp apples.

"I don't know if," he trailed off, looking between you and the fruit and adding another regret to the mix, "if you like apples..."

Your gaze finds him again.

He sighed hopelessly, thinking through his next words. "I'm sorry...for what I did." His gaze lifted to Dream for only a moment, his glare far too intense for Alex to withstand. "To both of you."

He was met with no cooperation, only silent stares.

He swallowed thickly. "What can I do?" He winced at that question, realizing his mistake as soon as it left his mouth. "Nothing, I suppose."

You sighed, licking your lips as you thought about how to put your thoughts into words. You leaned forward, unblinking as you watched a flash of hope cross his face at the prospect of you answering him.

"You fucking shot me."

He winced at your words, and that satisfied you enough. You leaned back, sighing as you felt the request from his desire seething beneath the surface. You tilted your head, scowling at him as you whispered like you were telling a secret. "That hurt."

He thought for a moment before surmising, "You want me to claim my desire..."

"That's all men care about: their own selfish desires," you looked him up and down with a huff. "Claim it and leave me, I have nothing to say to you."

He shook his head, staring at his lap to avoid your harsh eyes. "I don't want to claim it."

"You have to," you snapped.

There was silence as he contemplated an idea before speaking it aloud. "Could I...Could I wish for your freedom?"

Your eyes widened slightly at the idea, but you nodded anyway. "You could," you put it simply.

He scooted forward, looking down at your chains to pick them up in his palms. "I want to," he breathed.

"Then say the words."

"I will," his voice was urgent. Then a sobering thought crossed his mind, and you knew you had lost him. He looked up from the chains and at you once more, apprehension heavy in his eyes.

"But how do I know you won't come after me?"

"..." You stared blankly at him.

"I want you to promise," he nearly whispered. "Promise you won't hurt me—or m-my father."

You opened your mouth slightly, but no words came out. You stared.

"Please," he begged. "I don't want to trap you here, but I can't have you taking revenge to hurt us. Me."

You shook your head, his words sour on your tongue as you leaned a little more away from him. You looked down at your shackles, over to Dream's prison.

You huffed out a breath, eyes darkening. "You will get what's coming to you," you promised. "That is my desire."

He shook his head, blinking, "I'm sorry. I can't."

You hummed, leaning forward until you were invading his personal space. Your lips curled in disgust as you looked his face up and down.

"Selfish."

He refuted meekly, "I'm trying to protect my family."

"You're trying to save yourself," you disagreed, sitting up straight again.

He was frantic, desperate to prove he wasn't selfish and greedy like his father as he shook his head. He leaned forward, perching atop his hand and reaching out to you, hoping to change your mind about him. "No. No, that's not true."

The door opened, the two guards returning. Alex turned away from you quickly at the shock of being caught.

"Alex, what are you doing here?"

Was it necessary? Probably not. Could it have gone better? ... Probably not. But you did it anyway.

You leaned forward while he was distracted and clamped your teeth down on the hand extended to you. It was more rage-filled than it was plan-filled.

Alex startled, trying to remove you from him, but your grip was too tight. You only let go when your ears rang and a horrible pain bloomed from your arm. You stumbled back, stifling your shout into a pained moan as you closed your eyes shut. Alex stumbled to his feet.

The guard who shot you just sighed and rolled his eyes. "A fucking holiday," he spat. "That's my fucking desire. God, I hate this job." He mumbled the last part to himself, shaking his head as he moved to sit. He threw his feet on the desk and tossed his gun, which clattered metal on metal.

Alex watched you grasp at your arm, eyes shut tight and mouth filled with air to keep the sounds in. The bullet missed, just grazing your arm, which was now leaking blood that stained your hands and your clothes once more. The other guard sighed, exhausted, "Go get the nurse, Alex. Shit."

Alex's eyes lingered on you a while longer before looking back up to Dream. Their eyes locked for merely a second before he was rushing away from eyes filled with angry blackholes that bore into his soul.

You tried not to cry, you tried to keep it all in. You should not—you could not—appear weak in front of these people. But you had been shot twice in one day, and you were well-beyond your limit.

You hid your face in your knees, your body dissolving into shuddered breaths and a few escaped whines as the tears fell without your consent.

Dream's heart squeezed in his chest, his throat tight as he watched you. He didn't have to watch, he could have just looked away and ignored you. But how could he? How could he leave you to suffer alone? He simply could not, he would not.

And for a moment, your red-rimmed eyes locked across the room and you saw the promise in his gaze. He raised his hand to the glass, setting his palm against the cold prison. You set your chin on your knees and stared back.

Your witty comments had become far more scarce in the years to come. After your assault against Alex and, quite frankly, mostly for your sarcastic remarks and the exasperation they brought Burgess, he had further reduced himself to fitting you with a muzzle. The leather of the constricting piece of wear was constantly covering your mouth, keeping you from speaking your mind with more than eye rolls, sighs, and muffled mumbles.

For seventeen years, you wore that muzzle. It was humiliating, dehumanizing, and just downright uncomfortable. Some old scars healed, more took their places, but your gunshot wounds were embedded too deeply within your skin to be removed. You had to live with them now. They were a part of you. They always would be.

The days have begun to drone together, long and tiring periods of time from sunup to sundown. A day for an immortal was hardly even a blink of time, sure, but a day of suffocating monotony, filled with pain and torture and more boredom was a lifetime of its own.

Sleep was far and few as time passed, and you missed finding what felt like just a few minutes talking to Dream and listening to the rich honey of his voice. Mostly, you just sat there and waited for the end of another continuous day. Sometimes, you spent hours staring at Dream, mapping him out in your mind. Other times, he stared at you, mapping you out in his mind (and sorrowing in the many scars you have gathered over the years). Sometimes, you watched each other and got lost in the many stories hiding behind the eyes of the other immortal.

As Burgess' steps sounded down the halls before he even reached the door, you noticed the difference in urgence as he thrust his presence into the room with his overbearing stature. He ignored you as he had done for years, except for the days when he actually decided that he wanted your forced service, and made a beeline for Dream's cage.

He was quiet for a while, examining him and disregarding you like a grain of sand on his boot or speck of lint on his expensive coat. "The woman who lives with me has gone and robbed me of my fortune," he finally admitted, leaning on Dream's dome with one hand as he supported his weight on his cane. You snorted, but he ignored you with the roll of his jaw in favor of continuing to speak to a very unyielding Dream. "She's also robbed you. She's taken your helm, your sand, and your ruby."

"Now, I can unlock this, you can go after her...if you give me what I've been asking for. Wealth, youth, immortality." You rolled your eyes at his tedium, but found a sense of pleasantness rising in your chest as his frustration creeped into his voice. "Oh, you're a god. These things are nothing to you."

There was a long pause as he continued to bore into Dream's face. "Don't you want your weapons and your freedom?" Dream tilted his head but gave no other response.

Burgess' anger got the better of him, and he lost his composure. Impatient, angry. "Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!" He punctuated each word with a sharp strike at the glass with his cane, making his rage quite evident. "Come on! Speak to me!"

You began to laugh, unable to contain your elation at his complete lack of control. The bubbling sound was muffled by the muzzle, but your joy was obvious and his frustration ran deeper. He turned to you quickly, finally paying you mind after so long barely sparing you a sidewards glance. "What's so funny?"

You just raise your brow at him, your smirk covered as you gave him an answer that only hastened his impatience and rage. He walked over to you, ripping the muzzle from over your head. You flexed your jaw, stretching it out and getting used to the feeling of being able to use it again. It wasn't often he was annoyed enough to allow you to trick him into letting you speak and worsen his personal experience with celestials.

You tilted your head, smiling at him slyly. "I enjoy watching you squirm," you admitted.

He wasn't in the mood for your sharp comments and contemptuous attitude. But, to be fair, he was never in the mood. It only added to your fun. He leaned forward, invading your personal space as he curled his fist into the neckline of your dress and pulled you forcefully to him. "Then you must love a bullet in your pretty little skull, too. I will put one there."

You tilted your head, unphased by his constant harshness as you gave him a tearful smile. "Aww, you think I'm pretty." His face screwed up in half-disgust, half-vexation. You shrugged a shoulder, "Either way, you won't."

He stared at you long and hard before letting you go in favor of towering over you from your spot on the ground. "What makes you so sure?"

You gave him a smile, a shit-eating grin, before answering his question. "You already found use of me. You won't give me up so quickly." if you could have tapped his nose, you would have as you scrunch your nose up to feign awe. "You like me."

His disdain was clear. "I wouldn't be so sure. I can just as easily replace you. There are hundreds of you." He gestured toward you with his cane, pressing it to your chest and shoving you down. You sat back on your elbows and raised a brow.

You hummed, shrugging a shoulder, "Thousands, actually."

He was fed up, his voice raising in his irritation. "Do you want to die? Because I can certainly help with that very easily, pesky demon."

You laid down on your back, closing your eyes shut as you feign hurt and sorrow, bringing the back of a chained hand up to your face and over your forehead. "Oh, ouch. Owie!" you cried. "You called me a demon. Whatever shall I do?"

Dream's lips nearly curled at your show of dramatics. You smirked and rolled your eyes and flailed your arms as much as you could, having a field day in making this man's life a living hell in return for all the hell he'd brought down upon you.

But Burgess had had enough, and Dream's entertainment was gone just as quick as the old man raised the cane above his head, ready to put you back in your place for however long the beating lasted (it would likely only be a few seconds of silence before another regrettable remark fell from your lips). You raised your hand to protect yourself, turning toward the ground to shield your face from his upcoming blow and nearly cowering with panic.

Alex, ironically, came to your rescue, snatching the cane and stopping its descent as he caught Burgess' attention. "It's alright, father!"

"Get away from me," Burgess insisted, twisting out of his grip. "If you were any kind of son to me–" He swung his cane at the boy, but he simply dodged it. They fought for a moment as Alex scrambled not to get hid with the hard stick before he caught it again with another firm grip. "If Randall were alive today–"

"If Randall were alive, he would hate you as much as I do."

Burgess huffed curtly, forced Alex away from him and not anticipating his refute. He stumbled back, losing balance as he was pushed away suddenly. His head smacked against the glass quite loudly, causing you to flinch slightly at the sound, and he grunted. He brought a hand back to see the blood smeared on his fingers. He slumped to the ground barely a distance from you.

You stared down at him, solemn and unfeeling as your cold gaze glared into his fading one. His eyes were wavering between the two of you, immortal beings watching a miserable mortal life come to an end. He shook his head, wasting his last remnants of life on resentment and contempt. "You're never getting out of there," he said, eyes drifting. "Never."

His gaze stuck on you as you watched him fade, watched the life drain from his eyes and become a void of death and emptiness. You leaned forward, your lips curled in a scowl as you stared at his face that has more feeling in death than it ever did in life. Under your breath, leaking venom and bitter toxins, you spoke to his corpse.

"This is my desire."

You spared him one last glance before disregarding him forever. Alex backed away from his father's body, disoriented and dazed as the shock sunk in and muddled his mind. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and looked around with confused eyes. Alex's gaze found Dream's, and something happened.

Dream stood in his glass dome. His lean body stretched tall as he reached out toward the glass. The boy's eyes focused on him, beholding his power with a special kind of reverence. He reached out for him.

The guards, who had flocked to Burgess, were nervous as they watched the scene play out. "Don't do it, sir," he begged, ignoring the glare you shot at his interference. "He'll kill us." Alex didn't listen, lost in Dream's will as he continued to allow himself to be drawn by his glory.

"What would your father say?"

And, just like that, Alex stopped. Reality came crashing down on him all in one moment as he returned his hand to his side. He backed away from the glass with a deep frown embedded into his face. "I need to think."

Alex swiftly turned and left. You dropped your head in a sigh, but felt a weight lift from your shoulders at the realization that this tyrant of a man was gone. But you would have to suffer with the remnants he left behind in a son conditioned to obey, one conditioned to fear.

You shared a long glance with Dream before monotony returned to you once more.

"Oh, my God."

The voices roused you from your shallow rest as you slowly sat up to see who had just entered the cellar. You rubbed at your eyes and blinked a couple of times as you took a breath in, watching as Alex and a boy walk in, his guests looking between you and Dream with wide eyes and a face a mix of terror and wonder. "Alex?" he muttered, unbelieving as his eyes saw.

"Hello," Alex greeted the both of you instead. "This is my friend, Paul." You looked him up and down, taking in the sight of him and deciding whether or not you would waste your breath. Alex turned. "Paul, these are our unwilling guests."

He stared, unbelieving as he took in the sight of you. You tilted your head at him when his gaze fell on you, furrowing your brows as you looked him up and down. When Alex spoke again, it was to you and Dream again with another plea for peace.

"Look, we've been talking, Paul and I, and if I let you out, will you promise not to harm us?" he asked. His insistence had faded slightly, past attempts returning to his mind as he knew that you still would not budge on your position. "If you could just speak to us," he urged.

You both stared blankly at him, not giving even the slightest hint of aid. The last sparks of Alex's hope flickered behind his eyes as he shook his head. "You see, I told you."

Paul refused to give up so easily. "I'm telling you, you have to keep trying." He drew straws in his attempt to persuade Alex to persuade you. He motioned toward you, "Or claim your desire to set them free."

You raised a brow, turning your head at his suggestion. Alex was quick to shake his head, "No, they'll hurt us."

Paul kept trying. "Show them that they can trust you. Show them that you mean it."

Alex's eyes turned back to the both of you once more. That same gleam of hopefulness fills his gaze again as he steps forward. "I do mean it," he promised. "Just promise that you won't harm me or Paul, and I will let you out."

And even as his plea rang through the air with a special kind of desperation, you didn't give him what he wanted. You did not give him what he desired. So Alex gave up, head hung low and defeated as he muttered his sad response to Paul. He finally accepts it, turning to leave with Alex.

You licked your bottom lip. "Paul." He turned around quickly at the sound of your voice, eyes wide as he heard you for the first time. You gave him a smile, small and gentle. "I want to ask you a question."

He glanced between you and Alex before clearing his throat and responding with the nod of his head. "Um...yes?"

You leaned forward, lowering your voice just above a whisper. "What is it you desire most in this world?"

He was caught off guard by your question, raising a hand to the back of his neck. He scratched it before shrugging limply. "I... I don't know."

"Come now," you chuckled. "There must be something?" When he didn't answer you, you began listing off suggestions. "Wealth? Fame?" You noticed his eyes shift between you and Alex again. "Love?" You put special emphasis on the word. "You only need to wish it, and I will give it...as an exchange for our freedom, of course."

Paul sighed, stepping back again with the shake of his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't."

Paul turned his back on you. Your gaze found Alex again, a knowing look piercing his gaze as the word formed in your mouth but did not articulate into the space between you. "Selfish."

Alex looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet before he shook the word off his shoulders. "Come on, Paul," he breathed. "Let's go. This was useless."

And they both left you alone to swap out one captor for another.

"I miss this place." You looked around the little apartment, dark tones and paintings depicting scenes of passion or agony. Deep reds accented the rooms of the small home, rugs and curtains and trims on furniture. You sat on the plush couch in the tiny living room, reaching for the mug on the coffee table with an apple painted on it. You turned it in your hands, smiling at it as you showed it to Dream. "I love symbolism," you confessed, like it was some naughty secret you were telling him to keep quiet.

"Your home?" he wondered, glancing around the overall tidy apartment and ignoring the bra hanging from a lamp shade. You noticed it and threw it under the couch with an off-handed request for him to forget he saw it—not out of embarrassment, but more out of consideration for his comfort level.

You shrugged a shoulder at his question, "Away from home." You pat the spot beside you to offer him a seat, giving him a teasing smile. "Don't worry, everything's clean." You shoot him a playful look, "For now." And then you winked.

He knew it was a joke, it was just in your nature, but he didn't laugh. You didn't seem very phased by his lack of amusement. You had been trapped with him long enough to separate his stoic amusement from his stoic boredom or disappointment.

He sat next to you, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his coat. He was quiet, as usual, looking around the room with curiosity to see what it was you used to live like.

You watched him look around, examining the slight shifts in his face at the information he was taking in with each little detail your brain managed to rebuild in your little illusion. "Do you miss the Dreaming?" you asked after a while, tilting your head.

He glances at you, but his gaze did not stick. "Constantly," he responded after a long break of silence. He removed his hands from his pockets to fidget with his long, slender fingers. His brows furrowed in deep concentration. "This is the closest I get."

You fell silent, rubbing your hands together before sinking further into the couch and turning your body to see him clearer. "What was it like?"

You saw the slightest tilt of his lip into a smile. "The stars were everywhere, countless," his eyes gleamed with remembrance. "So many planets and moons. The most precious of flowers, the tallest of trees. The rivers sang, and the oceans were mighty. Life was everywhere." His words were so poetic, distant liberation shining in his gaze as he remembered the feeling of the Dreaming's sun on his skin, the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the joy of the dreams that resided in his realm.

You sighed, sitting back and staring at the lamp casting a golden glow over the room. "It sounds perfect," you muttered, imagining the paradise he'd explained to you.

You looked at him again, your gazes lingering for too long before you took in the room again. You shook your head quickly and slid off of the couch so you were sitting on the floor, your arms propped up on your knees and your face in your hands. "This is dangerous."

Dream looked around, watching the warmth and intimacy of the room disappear into the cold, sterile echo of the cellar they had spent decades trapped in. You were chained again, wearing the same shabby dress and covered in your scars once more. Dream's prison is gone, leaving the room empty of everything but you and your shackles.

You sat on the cold floor, tugging at the metal bolted into the floor. "All this reminiscing," you shook your head and faced Dream again, "we can't keep doing it."

Dream walked over to you, his steps slow. He knelt in front of you, reaching for your hands. He took them, tracing his thumbs over the back of your palms. He reached down, his fingertips brushing the searing chains. They clattered to the floor, and he took your hands to slowly stand with you again.

He held your eye contact until you were turning away from him again. "I keep wasting my dreams with this illusion of freedom, instead of just accepting the reality of things."

Your eyes found the wall, and Dream quickly realized that the door that served as the only exit was gone. Come to think of it, Dream hadn't seen a door in the wall or windows behind the curtains of your apartment living room before.

"We're never getting out of here."

Dream's frown deepened. "There is always hope," he tried.

"Not now there isn't," you shook your head. "It's just you and me. Alone and powerless."

Dream stood in front of you, invading your space as he towered over you, his chest nearly touching you. His eyes stared at you. From so close, you can see how magnificent they really are in the light of dreams. A thousand galaxies, infinite stars glittering with the hope he tried to give to you.

"We are not alone," he said. He was so close, you could feel his words on your cheeks.

You watched him closely, taking in his endless beauty. Your lips parted, and you held your breath. You stepped forward, raising a hand to his chest.

Dream stepped back, ducking his head almost bashfully, like a scolded child. He was soft when he spoke again, you thought he might stutter. "I only meant that–"

You stepped forward again, throwing your arms around his neck and just staying there. Your face buried in the crook of his neck as you relaxed against him, sighing gently and holding him tight.

Dream stood there, arms awkwardly at his sides and eyes wide with shock. It took him a long time to catch up, to get over his surprise and realize what this was. A hug. You were hugging him, seeking comfort in an embrace meant only for him. "I know what you meant."

Slowly, but surely, he raised his arms to hug you back, holding you close and leaning into your comfort. He sighed, pulling away after too long and risking a curled finger under your chin. "We will get out," he promised, putting his hand back down by his side. "Have hope, little apple."

You smiled slyly at him, your teasing remarks returning a little with a gentle laugh. "You got a nickname for me now, dreamer?"

He hummed, and you could see the traces of a smile on his lips. You felt your heart swell in your chest. You could have sworn you saw Dream's eyes flicker to your lips. You could have sworn you saw his hand raise to your cheek. You could have sworn you saw him lean in close...

Alex chose to remain ignorant. Every day, he and Paul came down to bargain their safety for your freedom. Every day, they were rejected and sent away until the day came where your revenge would rain down on them all.

The guards were not kind. Hardened by unethical work, they ignored Alex's orders not to hurt you. When he wasn't looking, when he turned his back and closed his eyes, they would be there with a new desire of their own to pull from your skin.

The years passed and the torture continued with you being scarred by greedy men and Dream having to watch, powerless to help. Years turned to decades and decades turned to a century.

Alex got older, and as time passed, he still had not sired an heir to ensure you stayed locked up. With no Burgess to stay in charge, the guards would likely discuss amongst themselves who would take on the role. Who would continue to torture in the name of fame and wealth and power. That made you restless, worried for what was to come when ignorance was returned to cruelty.

You feared how much the future could become.

"I could have asked you for wealth, like my father did."

Your attention was caught again by the voice of Alex Burgess, elderly and confined to a wheelchair. He looked tired, exhausted by life's hardships. Most of which consisted of a silent god and a snarky demon (although, you were not technically a demon) trapped in his basement.

"But all I wanted was to be free of you," he said, the dejection clear in his tired voice. "Surely, you want that, too."

Paul placed a hand on his shoulder, the golden ring on his finger flashing slightly. His worry translated through his words as he shook his head. "Alex, darling, please."

There was a silence as Alex acknowledged his husband's words with a gentle nod. "Take me upstairs, Paul." He sighed and turned toward you and Dream again, "I won't be coming down here again."

It was a farewell, your last chance to claim his offer before you never saw him again and were stuck to be tossed over to your next captor. Paul wheeled Alex's chair away, turning it as it creaked slightly. Then he paused in the middle of a step as he turned to look at the floor. You followed his gaze to where the golden seal surrounding Dream's cage was now broken.

Your lips parted as the sight brings a swell of hope to you. It was happening. It was really happening. You would be free as Paul's gaze lifted again to meet Dream's.

It was purely an accident, breaking the seal. But upon that accident, Paul figured that it was one last deed in service to something much more powerful than him. Laying an issue to rest instead of letting it fester into something terrible that the world could never imagine.

He walked away, leaving the two of you alone for the last time. You looked at Dream, your eyes meeting as a promise he made to you decades ago echoed in your mind.

"What is it you desire?"

"Our freedom. And to rain vengeance on those who would dare to take it."

Dream nodded to you in acknowledgement of your new opportunity for freedom. It was so close, you could taste it as the doors were closed with a loud clunking noise. You could hear the guards beginning to chatter about something, little remarks about "draculas" and "demons". You almost rolled your eyes. Why did everyone assume you were a demon?

But you were preoccupied with Dream. He shifted his body, adjusting himself so that he was leaning against the glass, crouched down like he was hunting something. His eyes dangerously trained on the guards, who remained entirely unaware of the threat that had begun to stalk them. You watched as one of the guards yawned, being taken by sleep under the dark influence of Dream's power while the other droned on about a vacation.

Trapped in vivid hallucination, the guard stood to his feet with his gun in his hands and approached swiftly. He aimed it at the glass and shot, a look of complete terror grasping his features as the other rushed toward him. You turned and shielded yourself uselessly from the fire, though you were never touched by the bullets.

As soon as the glass shattered, Dream was free and a blinding light burst into the air. Wind raged and whistled as Dream's power dominated the space between them. He ignored the shouts of the guards as he climbed out of his prison, tall and stalking.

Dream, without breaking the gazes of the guards, knelt down and took your shackles in his hands. They simply clattered to the floor, as though they were nothing, and he set you free. You could have cried! Finally being able to rub away the cold bite of the metal that had been searing into your skin for a century. Your wrists were bruised, the nastiest of colors left behind due to years of captivity. You almost could not see the apple on your wrist, discolored and discernible.

But you were free. Your power had returned. You could claim your own desires.

Dream dealt with the guards, knocking them unconscious with a fistful of sand. With wind still whistling in the air, Dream turned to you, his face fallen in solemnity. "The boy is mine," he demanded, and you were in no position to disagree.

You smiled at him and gave him a simple nod. "All yours."

Dream's gaze lingered on you for a moment too long before he allowed himself to be taken by the blinding power source that had been a portal. The blaring lights dismissed and left you in the cold cellar once again. But instead of being chained to the floor, you were the one chaining them up, confining every guard in the manor to this room and rendering them useless to stop you with the whisper of a command and a kiss to your wrist.

As you looked over them all, you could not help the sense of pride swelling in your chest. It felt good to be the most powerful being in the room again (or at least having power enough to be able to say so). Most of them looked around, dazed and confused to figure out where they were and how they got there. You walked toward the two sleeping guards, the ones knocked out by Dream, and slapped each of their cheeks to wake them.

They shook their heads, coming to before they finally saw you standing in front of them. "What the...?" the man asked, brows furrowed in confusion before a look of fear flashed behind his face. You smiled at the influence you were seeing in his eyes.

You backed away from him, looking over everyone staring nervously at you. "What are you going to do?" one brave soul finally asked you, voice trembling.

You thought about what you were going to say carefully before the words left your mouth. "Desires are dangerous things, you know," you began. "It's so interesting how men forget that your greatest desires are just reflections of your greatest fears."

"So?" She was the current guard's partner, the one who'd tried to stop him from freeing Morpheus. Your talk of "men" and their desires made her question whether or not she was even supposed to be there, you supposed.

"So," you exaggerated, "I know the deepest, darkest desires that lay in your hearts, and the hearts of all those that pierced my skin to obtain their selfish wants." You smacked your hand against your forearm to accentuate your point. You sighed, "You see, I personally believe in an eye for an eye policy, but that would take far too long, and I'd rather be anywhere but here. So instead..." Your expression shifted, turning into something much darker and much more dangerous than anywhere could have ever imagined seeing on you. They were used to your snark and sarcasm, not this looming threat that could turn their lives into waking nightmares. That was what they feared of the trapped dream in the basement. But you could be just as worse, it seemed.

Your voice was low, your face fallen in malice and ill-contempt. "To every person who forcefully claimed a wish from me, I lay upon you the curse of a plague made of the very things you fear worse above all else in this world...for as long as Death has planned of the rest of your miserable lives."

One of the staff shook his head and stuttered out the words he tried to say to you, frantic and terrified of your wrath, which was very clear to him as you cursed them. "You can't do this," he pleaded meekly.

You turned to him quickly, your eyes wild and your lips curled in a crazed smile. "But, you see, I can." You brought your wrist to your face and pressed your lips to the bruised apple on your skin. It flared with warmth, its color seeping into a dark red. "Because this is my desire."

Nearly everyone in the room slipped into unconsciousness as your power took its first hold of them. There were only a few of the staff left awake, those who had not committed a crime against you and you had deemed innocent enough to leave be. They stared at you in frantic worry as you simply flashed them a smile and let them go unharmed and uncursed, disappearing like a flickering flame.

It was late. The night had taken hold of this part of the Earth, and there was a small commotion upstairs. Upon finding yourself in the doorway of a room, you leaned against the frame and peered into the room. Alex lay in a bed, twitching and flinching as visions flashed behind his eyes, terrible nightmares cursed to him by Dream as punishment for all the crimes he'd committed during your captivity.

Paul's head was ducked as he clutched Alex's hand, sorrow filled him at the state of his husband. You merely watched, face fallen this time in the same solemnity that Dream had casted to you before he left. Paul stood after a moment, turning around to leave the room for something before stopping short at the sight of you.

Then he stepped forward with a pleading face. "Can you help him, please?"

You turned your gaze toward Alex, still struggling in his sleep, and then back at Paul, unphased and uncaring. Your cold expression pierced his soul and made him shiver. "I probably could," you said, filling him with a false hope that you quickly crush beneath your heel. "But I won't."

He fell to his knees as you pushed yourself off the door frame to stand up straight. He clasped his hands together, shaking his head as his eyes continued to pour tears down his cheeks. "After what I did for you?" he shook his head, unbelieving. "I set you free."

You let silence linger for a moment. "But not soon enough."

"How could you...?"

"Paul," you silenced him, your voice raised a little louder as you spoke. A shudder rushed through him at your tone, and he shrunk into himself. "I was trapped there. For decades, for a century. I was chained in that cellar with no one but a silent cellmate and guards who hurt me to get what they wanted. You were innocent, until you weren't. So, Paul, freer or not, I must have my revenge on the ones who hurt me. I will not interfere with Dream's punishment, but I can take my vengeance through you. And that is exactly what I'm going to do."

He trembled as a silent cry shuddered through him. "What are you going to do? Are you going to hurt me?"

You shook your head, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I won't beat you. I won't cut you the way they cut me. I won't shoot you the way they shot me," you told him, tucking your finger under his chin to make him look at you. "But I will claim the desire that is rightfully mine without Alex to claim it for himself."

You dropped your hand from his face and sighed. "For a century, Dream of the Endless was trapped in that cellar with me. For years, he had to watch me bleed without being able to lift a finger to help me." You shook your head, "I won't make you bleed, but I will make you watch as Alex suffers in his slumber for the rest of his life, and there will be nothing you can do about it. You cannot leave this room, you cannot calm his mind. You're helpless, he's hopeless. And it will be like that until Death comes to take whoever is first to perish."

Paul shook his head, wiping at his face to be rid of the tears falling from his eyes and onto his cheeks. "Please. I didn't do anything."

You shook your head gently. "No, you didn't. But he did, and he will know." You raised your wrist once more, whispering your words into the space between you as you sealed your promise with a kiss to your apple. "Because this. Is. My...Desire."

And when Paul blinked, you were gone.

It felt like forever since you laid eyes on Dream again. After you parted ways in the cellar, you suspected he had been quite busy repairing his realm and fixing the patches that have risen within humanity. His absence was felt.

But it seemed like yours was not.

You returned to the Threshold after you were freed. Nothing had changed, the sameness was unnerving. A century gone, and a few of the Malum welcomed you back warmly, some were indifferent, and others just could not have given less of a shit that you were gone. When you went to Desire, they greeted you with a smile and good wishes before you were off again. You thought they wanted to show more affection, to prove they cared about what happened to their Malum, but they just didn't want to risk losing their edge.

You understood, it was how all the Malum were. One of the most basic desires in the hearts of humans was love, and the closest most of them ever got to it was sex. You were all born of those desires, and your Endless was a reflection of them, so it was natural for affection to be...minimal in cases of care and concern for the type of relationship between your ruler and their servants.

So you left. You left the Threshold, and you returned to the human world to explore a century of development. It did not take long for you to settle in, despite how different everything had become, more difficult. But you were free. Out of that cellar and out of that life, ready to take on what else the world had to offer you, and that seemed to be a lot.

With your power back, your scars had begun to fade a little more. Some small ones disappeared, but most were whispers of cuts and healed wounds that were hardly discernible from normal flesh. You were back to granting desires, more wary and cautious of every person you granted them to.

It was nice to be back.

After a long day, you were back in your new home. Dark tones and red accents decorated this just as much as the last, but the intimacy was of a different nature. Stepping into the living room with a hot mug in your hands, you let the cool air of night seep into the room through your slightly ajar windows.

You felt the shift in the air and smiled, turning around to see your visitor in the night. "Dreamer," you smiled, sighing gently at the sight of the Endless standing in your living room. His coat was longer, a dark cloak which hung off his shoulder and cast stars in the underside of its trim. You only saw them for a moment before they disappeared. You raised a brow at him, smirking as you spoke into your mug, "Been busy?"

"Quite," he responded, almost amused. His face was not as stern as you had grown used to, much more at ease as he cast his gaze upon you. "How have you been keeping, little apple."

You smiled at the nickname, shrugging your shoulders and moving to sit on the couch in the living room. "I'm wonderful," you told him. "There's fresh air and strong drinks and the smell of sweet, sweet freedom in every day."

He looked around your home as he listened, taking in the comfort and feeling it seep into his body. "I saw how you punished the guards," he said. "Clever. Even in their dreams, they are plagued by nightmares."

You smirked at his subtle praise, chuckling gently. "Thank you. I took a page out of your book."

The corner of his lip turned up in a small smile, so slight, you would miss it if you weren't paying attention. You couldn't help your happy grin at the way he smiled at you. "Now, isn't that a sight?" you muttered.

Dream moved to sit beside you, a little too close as your thighs touched just a bit. "Have you returned to the Threshold since you got out?"

You paused for a moment at the mention of Desire's realm before nodding gently, taking another sip from your cup. "Once. Right after," you hesitated as you thought about it. "It didn't feel the same."

He did not verbally respond, merely nodding his head in a silent agreement as he turned his gaze away. He sighed gently, the sound was almost inaudible. You turned to him with another teasing smirk, "Quite the talker, aren't you?"

There it was again, that little smile that curled the end of his lips. You sighed gently, letting the quiet linger for a while as you both stared again for too long. "Would you like some tea?"

He shook his head, "No, thank you."

"A snack? Perhaps, an apple?" You wiggled your brows at the suggestion, laughing gently when he refused your offer with a chuckle of his own.

"Perhaps not."

You set your mug down on the coffee table and make your way to the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a small bowl on the counter and beginning to slice it up after taking a long sniff of its skin. Your knife cut through the apple with ease as you spoke up again. "So why have you come, Morpheus?"

He breathed out a silent chuckle. He didn't think you knew that name, you had always referred to him as "Dream". But you were just being you, he supposed. He stood from the couch and made his way to join you in the kitchen. "I wanted to see you," he stated blatantly.

You looked up at him and shook your head, laughing gently. "You watched me for a hundred years. You want to see more?" Dream didn't laugh. In fact, his face fell slightly as he looked away from your face. You mentally scolded yourself for your attempt at humor. "Bad joke," you muttered, a silent apology.

He turned his gaze to you again, watching you slice your apple as his eyes caught sight of the scars you thought were mostly unnoticeable. There were plenty of slits, but most of them had gone by now. The tank top you wore offered a perfect view of the bullet scar on your right shoulder and the graze on your left. They were more obvious than the mostly-healed cuts. The bruises around your wrists were mostly gone, too. They were slightly discolored, but you would not notice them unless you were paying far too much time and attention to them.

You looked down to where his gaze had traveled, realizing what he was staring at. "They've healed well," you said. "Some of the scars have gone away without my chains."

Dream reached out, grabbing your hand gently and holding onto it as he stared regretfully, punishing himself all over again for something out of his control. "I'm sorry for what they did to you." His voice was so soft, full of a special kind of sorrow.

You turned to him, "You have no reason to apologize. There was nothing you could do."

He didn't argue with you. He just inspected your scars a little more before bringing his gaze back up to yours. "I could take the scars away," he said after a moment, offering a way to help even after all of this time.

You looked down at them, your eyes glazing over the bullet scars with the shake of your head. "No. I think I'll keep them," you said, looking up at him again with the shrug of your shoulders. "The ones that heal with heal, but..."

"But?" He raised a brow.

You sighed. "I got these scars with you. They mean something to me. I don't want to let it all go."

He fell silent, processing your answer before looking back down at your arms. He let go of your hands, and spoke slowly. "You gave Paul my curse."

You nodded once. "I did."

"Why?"

You stared at Dream, bringing your hand up to his cheek to brush his skin for a moment before pulling away. "You watched them abuse me. You didn't have to look, but you did every time so I never felt alone...but I know that it hurt you, too. I didn't want you to be alone," you confessed. "Alex will share my pain while he endures your punishment. He will have to continue on knowing that the one he cares about most will have to watch him suffer every minute of every day, and there's nothing he can do to change it."

Dream blinked, thinking about your response. "The one he cares about most..." he echoed, making your cheeks heat under the revelation of his words but discarding it.

"I do care about you, Dream," you said. "With all that time, how could I not?" Silence lingered between you, heavy in the air but in a way that was comfortable, rather than unnerving as you did that thing where you both just stared at each other for far too long. You licked your lips, "I've never cared about anything the way I care about you. You were there when I was alone. Whether you wanted to be or not, you were there."

He reached out and grabbed your arm, supporting the back of your elbow to just feel your skin. "I'm glad I was there with you."

Your lips twitched in a small smile. You found yourself confessing these words without meaning to, "I lied a little earlier. I'm not wonderful." He tilted his head. "Truth is, freedom is lonely without someone to share it with."

Dream raised his hand from your elbow to your cheek, cupping your face in his hand and bringing you closer to him as he put aside all of his inhibitions in favor of just doing what he wanted to. He kissed you, his lips brushing your and inviting you in a gentle embrace that filled your soul and made your chest swell with affection for him.

You leaned into him, breathing a sigh against his lips as you stepped closer into his space. His hand shifted down to your waist, holding you close to him as you brought your hands to cup the sides of his neck. He pulled away from your lips to lean into your touch, his eyes still closed for a moment before he opened them to take in the sight of you, so close and so entirely beautiful.

He whispered to you, his breath fanning gently over your face. "I want to be your freedom," he confessed, taking your hand and raising your wrist to his lips before setting a gentle kiss to the apple. He stroked your skin, "This is my desire."

You smiled at him, bringing your own wrist to mirror his actions. "Then let it be so." You leaned forward and kissed his lips again as he breathed freedom into your soul.

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