#calliope: our son?

[sic-vita]

The Sandman | Morpheus + change

“You have changed, Oneiros. In the old days, you would've left me here to rot without turning a hair”

#the sandman #sandman #tom sturridge #morpheus #dream of the endless #sue's things #sicvita:sandman #the implication that the old morpheus was cold and harsh #but now he has softened and shows his care #morpheus is learning!! #he has my whole heart!! #calliope: you've changed man #morpheus: yes i'm now a nice person #i'm so emotionally mature! #calliope: our son? #morpheus: no

[maagicmiss]

,,Mourning Parents”

#the sandman #dream of the endless #calliope the sandman #dream x calliope #not really shippy more like ‘I still love u but you remind me of our dead son’ #sketchbook

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

Statistics of Apollo's Lovers

I was wondering just how unfortunate of a love-life our boy Apollo had, so - as one does - I did the research, math, and writing of said love-life.

such is the life of an adhd teen :)

In total, there are 59 people on this list. I have them separated into eight groups; Immortal, Immortal & Rejected, Lived, Died, Rejected & Died, Rejected & Cursed, Rejected & Lived, and who were Rejected by Apollo

Disclaimer: I am not a historian nor an expert in Greek Mythology, I am just a very invested nerd in Mythology, and in Apollo's mythology in general, and got curious about what his rap sheet actually looks like.

Sidenote: There will be some "lovers" not on this list. Reasons being;

No actual literary sources behind them

Said literary sources are dubious at best

Not enough information is given about the nature of their relationship to make an accurate take

So if somebody isn't on this list, it's because of one of those three reasons. Although there is still a chance I missed somebody! :)

Also, no RRverse lovers include in this list. Sorry my fellow ToA fans.

(Edited 12/22/23 - Currently adding in sources/references)

Let's begin! :D

Immortal Lovers

Calliope: muse of epic poetry. Mother of Hymenaios by Apollo.

Clio: muse of history

Erato: muse of love poetry

Euterpe: muse of music

Polyhymnia: muse of hymns/sacred poetry

Melpomene: muse of tragedy

Thalia: muse of comedy. Mother of the Corybantes by Apollo.

Terpsichore: muse of dance

Urania: muse of astronomy

Boreas: the North Wind. yes Apollo apparently dated the North Wind. Who knew? It's mentioned in the Argonautica by the Boreads - they call Apollo "beloved of their father" so...hmm. wonder what happened there because that's all we get.

10 lovers total here.

9 Female, 1 Male

Immortal & Rejected

Hestia: goddess of the Hearth

1 Interest. Female.

Lovers Who Lived:

Branchus: mortal shepherd, gifted prophecy

Rhoeo: mortal princess, eventually married an apprentice of Apollo

Ourea: demigod daughter of Poseidon, dated Apollo during his punishment with Laomedon; had a son named after the city of Troy

Evadne: nymph daughter of Poseidon, Apollo sent Eileithyia & (in some texts) the Fates to aid in their son's birth

Thero: great-granddaughter of Heracles, described as "beautiful as moonbeams"

Cyrene: mortal princess-turned-nymph queen, kick-ass lion wrangler, and mother of two of Apollo's sons - Aristaeus (a god) and Idmon (powerful seer)

Admetus: mortal king, took great care of Apollo during his second punishment, Apollo wingmanned him for Alcestis's hand - basically Apollo doted on him <3

Hecuba: queen of Troy, together they had Troilus.

It was foretold that if Troilus lived to adulthood, Troy wouldn't fall - unfortunately, Achilles murdered Troilus in Apollo's temple. When the Achaeans burned Troy down, Apollo rescued Hecuba and brought her to safety in Lycia.

Hyrie/Thyrie: mortal. mothered a son by Apollo. Their son, Cycnus, attempted to kill himself after some shenanigans and his mother attempted the same. Apollo turned them into swans to save their lives.

Dryope: mortal. had a son named Amphissus with Apollo, who was a snake at the time. Later turned into a lotus flower, but it had nothing to do with Apollo so she's still on this list.

Creusa: mortal queen. had a son named Ion with Apollo. Please check out @my-name-is-apollo's post for more details because they make some good points about what's considered "rape" in Ancient Greece.

Melia: Oceanid nymph. Had a son w/h Apollo named Tenerus. will expand on them in a bit

Iapis: a favorite lover. Apollo wanted to teach him prophecy, the lyre, ect. but Iapis just wanted to heal :) so Apollo taught him healing :)

Aethusa: daughter of Poseidon & the Pleiad Alcyone. Mother of Linus and Eleuther. She is the great-great grandmother of Orpheus.

Acacallis: daughter of King Minos. there's a lot of variation on whether or not she had kids with Hermes or Apollo. Some say she had a kid with each.

Chrysothemis: nymph queen who won the oldest contest of the Pythian Games - the singing of a hymn to Apollo. She had three daughters, and one of them is said to be Apollo's.

Corycia: naiad. had a son with Apollo. the Corycian Cave north of Delphi is named after her

Leuconoe (also Choine or Philonis): daughter of Eosphorus, god of the planet Venus, and mother of the bard Philammon.

Melaena (also Thyia or Kelaino): mother of Delphos, member of prophetic Thriae of Delphi. Priestess of Dionysus.

Othreis: mothered Phager by Apollo, and later Meliteus by Zeus.

Stilbe: mother of Lapithus and Aineus by Apollo.

Syllis (possible same as Hyllis, granddaughter of Heracles): mothered Zeuxippus by Apollo. 

Amphissa: Apollo seduced her in the form of a shepherd. They had a son named Agreus.

Aria (or Deione): had a son named Miletus. Hid him in some smilax. Her father found him and named him.

Arsinoe: she and Apollo had a daughter named Eriopis.

Queen of Orkhomenos (no name is given): Mother of Trophonius (my fellow ToA fans will recognize that name haha).

Hypermnestra: Either Apollo or her husband fathered her son Amphiaraus. (sidenote: @literallyjusttoa suggested that Apollo was dating both Hypermnestra and Oikles, and I, personally, accept that headcannon)

Manto: Daughter of Tiresias. Apollo made her a priestess of Delphi. They had a son named Mopsus. When Apollo sent her to found an oracle elsewhere, he told her to marry the first man she saw outside of Delphi. That man turned out to be Rhacius, who brought her to Claros, where she founded the oracle of Apollo Clarios. Later, another man named Lampus attempted to assult her, but was killed by Apollo. She is also said to be a priestess who warned Niobe not to insult Leto, and to ask for forgiveness. Niobe did not.

Parthenope: granddaughter of a river god. Mothered Lycomedes by Apollo

Phthia: prophetess. called "beloved of Apollo". Mother three kings by him; Dorus, Laodocus, & Polypoetes

Procleia: Mother of Tenes, son of Apollo, who was killed by Achilles before the Trojan War. Daughter of King Laomedon, king of Troy.

Helenus: prince of Troy. Received from Apollo an ivory bow which he used to wound Achilles in the hand.

Hippolytus of Sicyon: called "beloved of Apollo" in Plutarch Life of Numa. I don't think this guy is the same as the Hippolytus, son of Zeuxippus (son of Apollo), king of Sicyon Pausanias talks about in his Description of Greece. That would be a little weird taking the whole family tree into account - though it's never stopped Zeus before, I guess.

Psamathe: nereid, said to be the personification of the sand of the sea-shore. There are two versions of her myths, both very different, but I'll only explain the one that explicitly states her and Apollo's relationship, which is by Conon's Narrationes. She and Apollo were lovers, but never had any kids. When another man assaulted her, she had a son and abandoned him. (He was found by some shepherds dw - wait, he was then torn apart by dogs. Nevermind.). Back to her, her father ordered for her to be executed and Apollo avenged her death by sending a plague onto Argos and refused to stop it until Psamathe and Linus (her son) were properly given honors.

(I really like how even though Linus isn't Apollo's kid, and that Psamathe wanted nothing to do with the kid, Apollo still considered him worth avenging too <3 )

(also would like to say that I found her on another's wiki page and that page said she was raped by Apollo - this just proves that you shouldn't take the wiki at face value because as shown above, that is not what happened.)

Alright. 34 lovers here.

5 Male. 29 Female.

33 are 100% consensual. Creusa is questionable, depending on who's translating.

The last one is Melia, who I will expand upon here.

Melia was said to be kidnapped, and her brother found her with Apollo. He set fire to Apollo's temple in an effort to get her back, but was killed. Melia and Apollo had two kids - but here's the interesting part. Melia was highly worshiped in Thebes, where her brother found her. She was an incredibly important figure in Thebes, especially when connected with Apollo. She and Apollo were essentially the parents of Thebes.

As I read over their story, it sounded like (to me, at least. it's okay if you think otherwise!) that Melia just absconded/eloped with Apollo.

Was kidnapping an equivalent to assault back then? Perhaps. But it's still debated on whenever or not that's true. However, one thing I've noticed reading up on these myths is that when Apollo does do something unsavory, the text says so.

It never says anything about Apollo doing anything to Melia. Her father and brother believe she was kidnapped, but, like mentioned previously, it seems far much more likely that she just ran off with her boyfriend or something.

But that's just my interpretation.

Moving on! :)

Lovers Who Died:

Hyacinthus*: mortal prince. we all know this one, right? Right? one and only true love turned into flower

Cyparissus: mortal. his DEER DIED and he asked Apollo to let him MOURN FOREVER so he was turned into a cypress tree

Coronis: mortal princess. cheated on Apollo w/h another guy. mother of Asclepius. killed by Artemis.

Adonis: yes, THAT Adonis. he's in this category because. well. he died. rip

Phorbas: at first I was going to keep him off, till I went "hOLD UP!". Listen, this guy's story is contradictory in Hyginus's De Astronomica - he's a rival of Apollo, then all of a sudden his (dead) lover. My first reaction was the above, then it was "OH MY GODS CANON ENEMIES TO LOVERS??? WITH DEATH???"

There's also a second account of Phorbas - he ended a plague on an island and became Apollo's lover that way, and when he died, Zeus turned him into a constellation - Ophiuchus.

(*In some texts, Hyacinthus was resurrected.)

6 lovers.

5 Male. 1 Female. All consensual.

Sidenote: QUIT BURYING THE GAYS GREECE!!!!

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Died:

Daphne: do i nEED to say anything? Nymph. turned into tree to escape.

Castalia*: Nymph. turned into spring to escape.

2 Interests. 1 debatable reliability.

2 Female.

(*Castalia's myth was written in 400 AD, VERY late in the myth cycle, and was strictly ROMAN. In every other case, the Castalian spring was already at Delphi before Apollo was born.)

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Cursed

Cassandra: mortal princess. Promised to date Apollo if she was given gift of prophecy. when he did, she rejected him and he cursed her to never be believed for her visions.

1 Interests.

1 Female.

Lover-Interests Who Rejected & Lived

Sinope: mortal. got Apollo to promise her anything; requested to remain a virgin. he obliged.

Marpessa: mortal princess, granddaughter of Ares. Idas, son of Poseidon, kidnapped her and Apollo caught up to them. Zeus had Marpessa chose between them, and she chose Idas, reasoning that she would eventually grow old and Apollo would tire of her.

Bolina: mortal. Apollo approached her and she flung herself off a cliff. He turned her into a nymph to save her life. Nothing happened between them, although some texts may say that she eventually dated him.

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe: nymph and daughter of a river god. asked a boatman to take her home after Apollo approached her. Apollo ended up turning the boat to stone and the seafarer into a fish.

Sibyl of Cumean: mortal seer. promised to date Apollo if she was given longevity as long as the amount of sand in her hand. he did, but she refused him.

5 Interests. All female.

Okyrrhoe's story is the only one with any iffy stuff, although, like stated in previous sections, when something iffy does occur, the text usually says so outright.

Rejected by Apollo:

Clytie*: Oceanid nymph. turned into a heliotrope to gaze at the sun forever after the rejection.

1 Advance. Female.

(*Clytie's story was originally about her affection for Helios. When Apollo got conflated with him, her story also changed.)

In Conclusion...

59 people total (includes Castalia & Clytie)

48 Women (81%). 11 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal (Including Lovers & Rejected)

66% Lived (Including Lovers & Rejected)

14% Died (Including Lovers & Rejected)

1% were Cursed

2% were Rejected by him

57 people total (Not including Castalia & Clytie)

46 Women (82%). 11 Men (18%).

18% were Immortal

68% Lived (Lovers & Rejected)

12% Died (Lovers & Rejected)

in that 12%, one was apotheosized - Hyacinthus.

Meaning 10% died permanently, while 2% were resurrected.

2% were Cursed

0% were Rejected by him

Additionally, I left off three male lovers and two female lovers - Atymnius, Leucates, Cinyras, Hecate, & Acantha.

Atymnius has no references to being Apollo's lover, only to Zeus's son Sarpedon.

Leucates is another male "lover" left off the rack - apparently he jumped off a cliff to avoid Apollo, but I couldn't find any mythological text to account for it. There is a cliff named similarly to him where Aphrodite went (by Apollo's advice) to rid herself of her longing for Adonis after his death. Also Zeus uses it to rid himself of his love for Hera before he cheats on her again.

Cinyras was a priest of Aphrodite on the island of Cyprus. He was also the island's king. Pindar calls him "beloved of Apollo" in his Pythian Ode. However, looking further into Cinyras's life throws a bit of a wrench into it. He's also cited to be a challenger to Apollo's skill, and either Apollo or Mars (Ares) kills him for his hubris.

(honestly, I kinda like the idea that Mars went into Big Brother Mode)

I did consider leaving him on the list, since technically you could argue it was a romance-gone-bad, but among every other source Cinyras is mentioned in, Pindar's the only one who puts a romantic label on him and Apollo.

Hecate, the goddess of magic and crossroads, is said to be the mother of Scylla (like, the sea-monster) by Apollo, but Scylla's parentage is one of those "no specific parents" ones, so I left her off the list.

Acantha has absolutely no classical references. There's a plant like her name, but she's a made-up myth, so she doesn't count.

(Of course, I could be wrong about any of these. Again, I'm not an expert.)

With all this in mind, this means Apollo's love life actually isn't as tragic as media portrays it, and he isn't as bad as Zeus or Poseidon in the nonconsensual area.

Does he still have those kinds of myths? Possibly, depending on which translation you decide to use for Creusa in Ion.

Even so, when you compare Apollo to basically every other Greek figure?

He's doing pretty damn good.

#ramblings of an oracle #greek mythology analysis #apollo #greek myths #greek gods #greek myth #ancient greece #still gonna tag this as toa #just because #;) #the trials of apollo #toa #trials of apollo

[orionsangel86]

Just rewatched Calliope episode of The Sandman and it occurs to me that this episode strongly implies that Orpheus is dead and gone??

The Hecate state that he "died in Thrace" (which technically he did in the comics too but he lived on because of Death withholding her gift).

Then when Calliope requests to visit Dream in the Dreaming sometime, in a change from the comics she gives her reasoning as "so we may talk about our son and grieve him properly".

Yet in the comics, it is made clear that Calliope visits Orpheus on the island at least somewhat regularly both before and after her imprisonment. So what she says in the show doesn't make sense unless Orpheus is already dead properly in the show?

But that would be a huuuuuge change to the story so surely thats not the case? I probably missed a lot of discussions about this after the show first came about before I caught the brain worms and had to analyse the comics with a fine tooth comb so I would love to know what others think about this.

@duckland @so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site @notallsandmen tagging for your thoughts as well as anyone else who wants to answer!

#sandman meta #sandman analysis #the sandman #sandman comic spoilers #calliope #dream of the endless

[darklinsblog]

New Beginnings | Sandman imagine

Summary: After Calliope’s cry for help, Morpheus goes to her rescue and the muse finds out her former lover has moved on.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Request: Yes

When Morpheus heard Calliope’s calling he was quick to attend and free her from her imprisonment. Out of respect and honoring for the love and grief they shared, Morpheus wouldn’t be capable of lying to himself, as Calliope was undoubtedly a huge part of his story and once was the mother of his child, he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.

He still felt an immense love for her, and it made his blood boil to find out about her confinement in the hands of Richard Madoc, so he made sure that he would get the right punishment for his atrocities, the man didn’t deserve mercy. Men such as him were rats, cowards who had to be taught a lesson.

For the first time in ages Calliope was free and while she was grateful to Oneiros she was also wondering if he still had feelings for her, out of the wrath he depicted when he imparted justice and the immense tension that filled the room when Morpheus was alone with her.

No matter how much time they spent apart, Calliope still knew her former lover like the back of her hand, and they still couldn’t bring up the subject of their son. But knowing how apprehensive the Endless was, she highly doubted he even acknowledged his pain and grief.

Seeing as he almost walked out that door and it would probably take ages for her to see Oneiros again, she dared to speak.

“May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime…” His dark blue eyes fixated on her, shining with indescribable emotion. “So that we may finally talk about our son?”

Morpheus opened his mouth to speak, finally understanding the closeness of Calliope was a demonstration of her restraint love, a love maybe she wasn’t even aware that was still there…

But before he could say something female voice he knew very well filled his ears and draw his attention along with Calliope’s.

“Bubs?” A thin woman was outside, just a few feet away from where Morpheus was standing, she was radiant and beautiful, looking at the eternal man with love, when looking carefully at his expression Calliope could see how Morpheus’ face lighted up at the side of you, his whole face changed.

The muse’s heart shattered quietly, the bit of hope she had in Oneiros still loving her died right there. Suddenly, two little kids not older than three years old came out from under your skirt, the toddlers ran in Morpheus direction and he welcomed them with open arms.

You walked over to Morpheus and he was quick to grab you by the waist and kiss you softly. You grabbed your arms around his neck, smiling.

“I’m sorry, love. They insisted”

“It was a very nice surprise” Dream said, picking his daughter up. While your son had his eyes fixated on Calliope who’s eyes watered at the sight of the raven haired boy, he was the living image of Oneiros and her heart ached as she was reminded of the son she lost centuries ago.

For the first time since you arrived you looked at Calliope and she looked back at you, smiling lightly with nostalgia.

“I’m sorry, I’m Y/N. Queen and wife to Morpheus” you reached out your hand to her, she shook it and was reminded of the time she was his as well.

“Calliope” she replied, you nodded slightly, something in your eyes changed, it was some sort of acknowledgment. Of course you knew who she was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you”

“Likewise” you turned to Morpheus.

“We should leave now, darling it’s getting late” your children whined, protesting.

“But we want to see the Waking World, mama!” the older twin spoke, pouting and batting his long eyelashes at you.

“We’ll have plenty of time to see it, Acanthus” Morpheus told his son, kneeling before him and pinching his nose lightly, making the boy giggle.

“You promise, papa?” Now his daughter spoke, he nodded.

“I promise, Roseann. Now please go back with your mother to the Dreaming. I’ll join you shortly” both of his children complied his command and said goodbye to their father and Calliope before vanishing with you to the Dream realm.

Morpheus looked at Calliope once again, the whole atmosphere changed when getting a glimpse of his new life. The muse now understood that was the tension she felt earlier, the nervousness from a kept secret and not an unexpressed love as she believed at first.

“A rose and a thorn…” Calliope murmured, making Morpheus smile weakly, imagining how she must felt at this specific time.

“One cannot exist without the other, and being twins… it seemed fitting. Y/N suggested it, actually” the muse giggled.

“Of course” there was a minute of silence after that. “You have a beautiful family, Oneiros. I’m happy for you” he smiled, Morpheus was truly happy now, after centuries of grief and pain and he wished the same for his former lover. But all he could say was two simple words.

“Goodbye, Calliope”

“I will never forget this. Fare you well”

Then, Morpheus disappeared in a swirl of sand, leaving Calliope standing all by herself under the moonlight, but being left with another important thing…

Freedom.

#love #the sandman comics #sandman imagine #sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus dream #sandman x reader #tom sturridge x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagines #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #morpheus #sandman x y/n #neil gaiman #tom sturridge #sandman shitpost #dream headcanons #sandman headcanons

[bi-bard]

Selfishness - Dream of the Endless Imagine (The Sandman)

Title: Selfishness

Pairing: Dream of the Endless X Reader

Word Count: 1,172 words

Warning(s): feelings of jealousy, mention of child death, involves part two of episode 11

Summary: The time has come for Morpheus and Calliope to finally meet again. To confront the loss that they faced. (Y/n) tries to only be supportive of their partner during a clearly challenging time, but not everything is so easily achieved.

Author's Note: This is only so late because I had to wait to watch the bonus episode until the dogs went for a walk because they kept barking at all the animated cats.

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

Maybe it was the way they were standing when I first saw Morpheus and Calliope that day.

She had been a mere few steps from him as they spoke.

It's not a position that anyone wants to see their partner in.

Yeah. That was a logical reason to feel jealous. Someone just gets a few steps too close to the person that was only meant to be that close to you. It was reasonable for that to tickle me the wrong way.

Morpheus walked away from her as soon as he saw me. It should've comforted me more than it did.

"(Y/n)," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," I replied before looking over his shoulder. "Who is that?"

"Come with me," he held out his hand. I grabbed it and let him lead me back over to where she stood. "This is Calliope. Calliope, this is (Y/n). My partner."

"Hello," she nodded her head at me.

"Hi," I replied. "How do you know each other?"

"I was Morpheus's wife."

I almost felt dumb for asking. Like it was something that I should've known.

"We lost our son."

I felt like a punch was landed to my gut. He hadn't gone into detail about his past partners. I hadn't asked.

"This is the first time we have spoken in a very long time," Morpheus explained.

Her eyes seemed to linger on him. I tried to ignore that idea. I was just learning about their history. I wanted to believe that this was just my brain trying to

"I... I should give you both some privacy," I said quietly.

"(Y/n)-"

"It's fine," I promised. "I'll spend some time in the dreams that are meant for me."

He nodded before leaning over to kiss my forehead. "Sleep well, my love."

I just grinned before walking away.

I didn't stay in the dream realm. I decided to wake up instead.

I stayed awake for the rest of the night. I stared out my window at the stars. It seemed to only let my stupid feelings fester.

I spent my day worried.

I busied myself with small tasks. Vacuuming, dusting, laundry, dishes. I did everything I could to take my mind off of what happened in the dream realm.

I felt like an idiot more than I felt angry. Jealousy had never been a normal trait in me. I knew that Morpheus had been with people before me. His stories were always secret.

And here I was, upset over him meeting his ex-wife and grieving his son. How selfish did I have to be to truly think like that?

I was still focused on the event as I got ready for bed.

I would've given anything to not be stuck in that headspace. But I couldn't shake it. And I absolutely despised that.

There was a knock on my door just as I was ready to curl under my covers and pretend that I was trying to fall asleep.

I paused for a moment before quickly walking over and pulling the door open.

"(Y/n)," Morpheus said. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, stepping to the side.

I slowly shut the door behind him. I crossed my arms over my chest awkwardly.

"You left very suddenly," he pointed out. "Are you okay?"

I nodded again. "Yeah. I just wanted to give you both some privacy."

There was a pause before he spoke again. "You are not a very good liar."

I sighed and shook my head.

"(Y/n)," Morpheus stepped forward. "All I want is the truth."

I looked away from him, ashamed of myself.

"Please."

"I was... jealous."

I whispered the last word. Like it was some kind of forbidden thing. The feeling that must not be named. Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows. I bit my tongue for a second. What could he have been confused about?

"I knew that you had been with other people," I said, looking down at the floor. "Logically, it would be childish of me to believe that you remained completely alone until you found me. And I know that nothing was happening. I just can't... I can't stop it."

It couldn't stop that pit in my stomach that felt like it was baring its teeth. It was ready to tear me apart as soon as I turned my back to it. It was infecting me. My heart and my mind. It offered more nightmares than the dreaming realm ever could imagine.

"(Y/n)."

I continued looking down at the floor.

"My love, look at me, please," he mumbled.

My love. What a sweet name. One that I didn't deserve.

His hand cupped the side of my face, carefully forcing me to meet his gaze.

"How can I bring you comfort," he asked. "Tell me and I'll do it."

"It's not your fault," I shook my head, causing his hand to fall from my face. "I trust you. I know that I can."

"And that means that I cannot help you?"

"What are you going to do? My mind is playing tricks on me. I can do nothing but wait it out. It is not your responsibility to deal with my selfishness."

"You are not selfish."

"Morpheus-"

"No," he stopped me. "I will not listen to this. If anyone here is to blame, it's me. I should have told you about Calliope coming. I betrayed your trust by not."

I let out a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, my love," his hands cupped the sides of my face. A grin crawled onto my face, which seemed to trigger Morpheus to form a small grin of his own. "I love you. More than I could describe with words."

"I love you too, Morpheus."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. My hands reached up to cover his as I kissed him back. I had always known him to be passionate, but this felt more like desperation. A search for reassurance. He needed to know that I was not upset with him. In the hopes of providing that comfort, my hands moved to the front of the fabric on his clothes, pulling him closer to me.

He pulled away slowly, pressing a few more slow kisses to my lips before he spoke up, "You are my everything. And I will spend eternity showing you that."

"Then go see her," I begged.

"We've discussed all we can," he explained. "The grieving may never truly end, but the two of us are at peace with each other. It's why it took me so long to find you."

I let out a relieved sigh. All those hours that I spent thinking that he was upset with me. All those hours that I had been dreading this interaction. I was fine with them now. I could accept that they were essential.

"Will you stay here tonight," I asked quietly.

"As long as you'll have me."

I smiled and kissed him again.

I wonder if he knew that I would have him there for all eternity if he let me.

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#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless imagine #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine #the sandman x reader #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman imagine #sandman imagine #sandman fanfiction #sandman x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfiction

[ep-the-penguin]

[Child of the Endless]

 └─── Headcanons──➤

[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)

Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?

Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...

I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!

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What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]

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⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.

⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.

⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.

⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.

⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).

⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).

⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.

⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.

⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.

⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.

⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he didn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.

⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did

⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.

⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.

⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.

⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.

⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.

⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.

⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.

⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing left of him…

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Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.

But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!

Until next time my dear readers!

#the sandman #sandman headcanons #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman x y/n #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x y/n #dream x fem!reader #dark!morpheus #yandere themes #platonic yandere #reader insert #child!reader #teen!reader #yandere #yandere morpheus x reader #Morpheus x reader platonic #Child of the Endless series #ep the penguin writings

[gabessquishytum]

the ask about Orpheus running away from Dream and Calliope: OBVIOUSLY they’re both like “clearly the problem with our relationship is we need a third person! Hob will fix everything for us! Sexily!” And Hob is like “sure :)) yeah I’ll be your dom :))))” and Dream and Calliope high five and then Hob ties them up and, once again, orders them to talk. They’re both like “wat” and Hob is like “you’re both idiots, fucking me isn’t how you fix your relationship, you just want an easy solution. Also if I’m joining this mess it’s not going to be as your therapist jfc”

Dream and Calliope feel properly chastised, and do their best to actually discuss their problems while Hob makes himself tea.

Hob will eventually dom them in a more fun way, and the three of them figure out how to all have a healthy relationship together. It’s just a lot of Hob squirting them both with a spray bottle when they start to argue at first.

(Orpheus and Robyn are also given spray bottles. It definitely gives Dream and Calliope some perspective on how ridiculous they’re being when their son has to spray them in the face to feel comfortable not running away when they fight.)

-🦇

Alsksjfhshah poor Hob. If only he wasn't so desperately attracted to wet cat people.

I like the idea of Dream and Calliope 1) waking up to the fact that their marriage troubles are hurting their son and trying to fix it because of that but also 2) using Hob as motivation to fix their relationship. Every time they feel like giving up, one of them will remind the other "if we quit now, then we don't get dommed by Hob!" and they go right back to working on therapy stuff/communication/intimacy issues.

After a couple of months Hob sits down with Dream and Calliope again while Orpheus and Robyn play on the swing set. Dream and Calliope basically give a presentation about how they've been trying really hard on their marriage and actually have made progress, but they still want Hob to enter the relationship. Not to fix anything, just because they like him.

And hey, emotional maturity is sexy. Hob agrees to give it a go, as long as the kids are top priority. Dream and Calliope totally high five under the table.

Yes, the spray bottle may be implemented during the first scene the Hob has planned for them. Bad little bratty kittens need to be punished somehow.

#🦇 anon #the sandman #immortal throuple #dream x hob x calliope

[knowbodytoldmethat]

Child of The Dreaming pt. 2

Part 1: Child of The Dreaming

Request from @fangirlmary: "Reader is a child who died in their sleep so Morpheus decides to adopt them as his child rather than have them just be a dream or nightmare. (Can be a one-shot or headcanon list)."

Trigger warning: Mentioned death

Platonic Paring: Morpheus x child!reader (Father-child relationship)

I changed basically everything about this after seeing the bonus episode

Sorry to everyone who wanted to be on a tag list for this update. I haven't figured out how to do that yet.

Morpheus stood in front of the youngest of the Nine Muses as she stared out the window,

"You came," The disbelief and relief were evident in her voice when she turned to face him as he stepped out of the shadows,

"You called,"

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"There you are!" Lucienne let out a sigh of relief when she found the child hiding among the stacks of books in the library, "I've been looking for you everywhere! You almost gave me a heart attack, Little One!" The child kept quiet and just pressed themselves further into the shelf they'd wedged themselves into.

Lucienne sighed. She knew the child was missing their father. Lord Morpheus may deny that he was and continually insist he just watched over them, but Lucienne knew better. He saw them as his own child like they saw him as their father.

The librarian sat outside the small barrier that had been made to separate them from the rest of The Dreaming and looked at the child,

"I know you miss him. I can promise you, he misses you just as much," They curled up tighter and pressed their head to their knees before asking a muffled question,

"Then why'd he go?" Lucienne sighed again.

The child was young, would forever be young, and hadn't fully grasped the duties that were placed upon their father's shoulders. And they had no inkling about his past. They'd felt their father's love since the first day they'd arrived in The Dreaming and Lord Morpheus had done everything he could to shield them from the darkness that rested in every corner of the universe. His past was no different,

"He was called by, an old friend of his, who is in desperate need of his help," She said, "He is the only one who can help," The child sniffed before nodding then slowly crawled out of their fortress and grabbed Lucienne's offered hand,

"Alright then," The librarian said while smoothing out (y/n)'s clothes, "We've got to get going. Cain and Abel are expecting us,"

"What about Goldie?" She smiled down at the child,

"Yes, Goldie is expecting us too,"

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"You've changed, Oneiros," Calliope said as they walked away from the house she'd been held captive in for the last few years, "The one I was married to would've left Madoc to suffer through his punishment despite my wishes," The Muse glanced over at Dream.

Her former husband was silent for a long time before answering her unasked question,

"Many things were different when I returned from my capture. One of them has taken a large part of my time alongside my other duties, and it was something I never thought I'd experience again," Oneiros paused slightly which prompted Calliope to ask,

"And what would that be?"

Oneiros stopped walking, forcing the muse to pause her gait and turn to him. He was visibly hesitant to answer but eventually said,

"A child died while in my realm. Murdered by their own father. I've been watching over them since," Calliope was silent as she processed the information, which Dream saw as her being angry, thinking that he was replacing their son with the Little One, "I will not apologize for taking care of them-" "I would not expect you too, Oneiros," Calliope said,

"If anything, I would expect nothing less from you. You were a wonderful father to Orpheus, and you are no doubt a wonderful father to this child," She said, "Though you try to hide it for fear of being seen as weak, you have much love to give. You gave it to me all those years ago, and you gave it to our son. A child who wandered into your real would have been no different," Morpheus was still silent when they began walking again.

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

In the House of Secrets, Cain, Abel, and Lucienne were sitting around the table while Goldie, who had grown to be about the same size as the child, was curled around the Little One as the two dozed in front of the fireplace. There was a gentle knock on the door that cut off the quiet conversation and Abel jumped up to answer it,

"Lord Morpheus!" He exclaimed, getting shushed by his brother and Lucienne while stepping back to allow the King of Dreams into his house, "Sorry! Sorry!"

"They've fallen asleep, my lord," Lucienne said while pointing toward the fireplace. Dream felt a smile creep across his face at the site and decided that it wouldn't hurt to let his Little Star sleep a while longer and sat at the table while the three caught him up with all that he missed.

In the middle of the conversation, Morpheus felt a gentle tugging on his cloak and looked down. His Little Star was awake, though still on the brink of sleep, and was trying to climb up into his lap. Dream carefully picked them up and let them curl into his chest.

Their fist gripped the edge of his coat as they fell back asleep and Morpheus kissed the top of their head while cradling them to his chest.

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

Calliope's first visit to The Dreaming was in a few weeks, and while Morpheus was glad that the two of them were going to attempt to heal and grieve what they lost, he was also nervous. Lucienne had told him it would be best if he told the Little One why he and his former wife were meeting.

Which was why he was currently sitting in the meadow with his Little Star, watching them twist flowers into a small wreath. They were determined to make one that would fit Matthew,

"Did you eat a lemon?" Morpheus glanced sharply at the child who was staring up at him, "Your face is squished and it looks like you ate a lemon," They drew their face into a pinched expression and pursed their lips, no doubt mimicking the expression on Morpheus' face,

"No. I did not eat any lemons,"

"Then why is your face like that?" The King of Dreams sighed,

"I'm thinking,"

"'bout what?" They asked while leaning toward him,

"Do you remember when I had to leave The Dreaming?" A frown landed on their face,

"Are you leaving again?"

"No. But the person I had left to help is coming here," They looked up at him, "Her name is Calliope, she and I were close a long time ago. There are some things the two of us need to talk about,"

"Like what?"

Morpheus thickly swallowed, "We had a son. And we lost him,"

The Little One paused their diligent work on the wreath and quietly asked,

"Like how I lost my mom?" Morpheus nodded,

"Yes, Little Star. Like your mother," He sighed while pulling them into his lap, "Calliope and I felt anger toward our loss, and we turned that anger on each other. But when I left The Dreaming, we spoke. Our anger has been put aside, and we've agreed to have a chance to grieve properly for the son we lost," He felt the child nod while they hugged his arm,

"You're not mad anymore?"

"There is still anger that will always be there," The child tensed so he quickly continued, "But we are determined to not let that cloud our judgment anymore. That is why Calliope will be in The Dreaming, so that we may grieve Orpheus without that anger," Morpheus waited with baited breath.

His Little Star wriggled so that they were looking up at Morpheus before wrapping their arms around his torso and burying their face into his chest. He hugged them back and held onto them tightly before they pulled away and clumsily patted Morpheus' cheek before settling back against him.

The father and child sat quietly in the meadow, watching the butterflies wander by in the breeze.

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #lucienne #matthew the raven #sandman netflix #calliope sandman

[just-some-random-blogger]

School Of Rock

Orpheus & Sister!Reader, Dream of the Endless & Daughter!Reader + a bit of dream x reader

Summary: "YEAH!" he makes an sheesh face, "THAT'S HOW YOU DO IT!" "ORPHEUS QUICK, DREAM'S COMING." "SHIT," he grabs his sister and the guitar, "SCRAM!" "SHIT!" "NO, DON'T SAY THAT!"

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: a smidge of mom!reader x dream, literal baby girl!reader, angsty teen!orpheus, dad's not here so let's go wild 😎 -orpheus, babysitter!matthew, being emo is genetic, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I am currently mourning (update: eternally) orpheus because i finished book 7 and now i dont know what to do with my life. I had an ask for this, and honestly, i regret answering like that cos idk if that nonnie will ever see this T_T COME BACK NONNIE Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

"That went well!" I grinned as I turned to Dream, who was vibrating in anger as he watched the 'impudent' boy storm off. He turns over to me with a shocked and hardened expression. He growls, "my son just threatened to curse you. I do not take that lightly." I furrow my brows as I chuckle and pull Dream in for a hug, "nah. That was a bluff. He likes me," I sigh through a smile, "he held back his laughter to my jokey-jokes a couple times." Dream stiffens as my arms go around him. He looks and thinks there was a foolishness to this optimism; it was borderline denial. Still, he says nothing and returns the embrace.

"Who goes there?"

He tilts his head up to the three gatekeepers, "Orpheus," he flares his arms out, making the fringes on the sleeves of his leather jacket wobble with the air, "prince of the Dreaming."

Wyvern brings its face close to the figure clad in black, looking at him for a good few seconds, and finally recognizes him. "So it is. Apologies, your grace. We did not recognize you because of your attire."

Orpheus pushes his shades down and tilts his black cordobes hat back. His distressed black eyeliner made his blue eyes appear even bluer. His black painted lips curve into a grin, "no harm done."

"I must inform you that we were instructed by our master to disallow your entrance if you are to be hostile with the princess child; as she is currently here in the Dreaming," Griffin speaks.

"What?"

"Do you swear that there shall be no hostility toward your half sister from you?" Hippogriff questions.

Orpheus chuckles dryly and clenches his jaw.

The three gatekeepers ask at once, "do you swear it?"

He sucks in a deep breath then pulls a smile, "I swear to the gods of Olympus, and on my mother, Calliope, I will not be hostile to the girl."

Needless to say, Orpheus was grumbling the whole time he walked down the halls of the Dreaming. His eyes twitched when he heard an echo of girlish giggles from the throne room.

He huffs through his nostrils and crosses his arms when he sees a raven flying low around the room and a little girl chasing after it with an open mouthed smile.

Both creatures freeze when the bard barks out the girl's name viciously.

She squeaks and comes to an abrupt halt, falling on her hands and knees because of this. Her keeper, Matthew the Raven, swoops down next to her in concern. Undeterred, she ignores Matthew and looks to her approaching figure with wide eyes.

"Where is father?" Orpheus asks.

Matthew answers, "he's out doing some errands."

He raises a brow, "and her mother?"

The black bird raises a wing, "I would assume she is the errand."

Orpheus chokes on his spit and begins to cough violently.

"I'm taking care of her for the meantime."

He heaves as he attempts to level himself. He scoffs and points, "you?" He walks over to the child, "insanely irresponsible to leave a child to a bird, isn't it?"

"Hey! I'm a great babysitter," Matthew argues, "and between me and the Pumpkin, I'm wayyyyy better."

Orpheus watches the girl push herself up and look up at him with wary eyes. He notices the way she flinches back and how her hands fidget, and somehow the reaction makes his chest tighten. How... dare she?! His emotions bubble into anger. He imposes upon the tiny thing and leans forward, hands, with painted glittery red polish, coming to his knees. He pushes his shades down and raises a thick brow, "what's wrong, little girl? Scared?"

The girl takes a look at his darkened eyes, and Orpheus is certain she's about to cry.

Yet, instead, he, himself, flinches when the girl breaks into a squeal and jumps into him. Orpheus pulls back in surprise, but she still manages to dart her arms out to his shoulders and very nearly choke him in an embrace.

His hand comes to the girl's back, intent on exaggerating injury for effect and pry her off. But then she rubs her face into his shoulder and shrieks, "Orphy!" She mutters sweetly against him, "missed you."

He glares at Matthew when he coos at the manipulative toddler's words.

Against himself, the hand which meant to yank her away rubs her back gently. He feels a blush creep on his face as he slowly pulls away from the seemingly unwilling child. He adjusts his glasses as he straightens up and looks down upon the beaming little sister he regretfully has and clears his throat, "whatever. I don't care."

Matthew chuckles at that, making Orpheus snap at him, "beat it, bird."

"Hell no," the bird croaks, "I'm her babysitter. My eyes will be on her the entire time, which means now, they'll be on you too."

Orpheus rolls his eyes, "ugly."

If Matthew had eyebrows, he'd raise one of them for the emo child's random insult.

The series of events that play out after was, in Orpheus' eyes, truly indicative of the conniving nature of the girl. Somehow, she managed to make Orpheus allow her to not only redo his makeup (as in wash it off and do it all over again), place stickers on his bare arms (he removed his jacket and was left in his makeshift muscle tee) and put clips and ribbons all over his hair (he may go bald now), but she also made him cook for her (and Matthew) and steal his confiscated electric guitar from the vault (all her idea)! The fact her parents were blind to her evil was astounding.

Orpheus was even encouraged by the raven to continue with the shenanigans, so if anything, it was clear that even Matthew was unsafe to her mind games.

Right now, he had his mint blue guitar plugged to some effects pedals and an amp, and he was intent of blowing the brains of this kid off with his sick guitar riffs.

Unfortunately for the Master of Riffs™, she was most impressed by his rendition of Ba Ba Blacksheep, and not even a rock version with cool distortions and wah effects, just... just babablacksheep.

Matthew croaked in approval as the girl clapped her hands after Orpheus finished singing.

Ever the rock star, the guitarist pushes his instrument back and bows, a few plastic clips falling to the ground as casualty. At the ready, the girl darts up from the floor she was sat and grabs the clips, raising her hands up to put it back on her beloved brother's hair.

Orpheus instinctively gets down on his knees and lowers his head to her. Matthew so very much wanted to tease him in this moment, but he didn't want him to suddenly snap at him and her because of it.

She shakily, as toddlers do, clipped the pink gel accessory back in his dark hair. Orpheus has to readjust it so that it wouldn't fall off. He smirks, his cheeks covered in way too much red power blush and his lips overlined with sparkly lip gloss (he has no idea why this child has makeup to begin with), "thanks kid."

Said kid, eyes lined with matte liner, cheeks drawn with crooked hearts (what? If she can put makeup on him, he could put makeup on her), exclaims, "think yew!"

Orpheus laughs. But then he catches himself when Matthew joins in, so his face falls.

He clears his throat and shifts onto his butt, removing the guitar strap form his body, "c'mere, let me teach you how to play Ba Ba."

"BA BA BLACK SHEEP?!" she excitedly jumps to his lap.

He grunts at the impact but only adjusts her on his thigh and places the electric guitar on her.

She excitedly grabs onto the neck of the instrument and begins to strum with her little fingers.

"Ouch," she gasp, pulling her hand back at the unforeseen snip her soft finger received from the sharp steel strings.

"Shit," Orpheus mutters, taking her hands and inspecting it before handing her the pick in his hand, "here." He places the pick between her fingers and guides her arm into a slow strumming motion.

The girl's jaw drops at the sound she was able to produce. She looks back at her brother and lights up, stars in her baby girl eyes.

Orpheus chuckles instinctively, "yoooo, you did that! Gnarly bruh."

"NARY!" she squeals and makes sudden attempts to stand from his lap.

" 'M ORPHY!" she calls, just as Orphy leans in and adjusts the straps on her, so that she could carry the guitar easier.

Orpheus' stomach drops as the girl struggles to her feet, but with a little help, she gets up and slowly turns to him, smiling from ear to ear as the guitar slowly slipped from her grip.

Once she had a better grasp on the electric instrument, she slowly walks to the pedal board and steps on one of the knobs, just as she saw her older sibling do. The thing was, she was too light to actually turn on the effect, and so Orpheus presses down on it to enable it.

She begins to sing Ba Ba Black Sheep in a high key, and skids the plastic magenta pick back and forth over the pickup. With one hand pressed firmly on the neck, she effectively mutes out most of the sounds she would have produced, and yet, it could not be denied that her performance was stellar.

Orpheus thinks it must run in the family (she gets it from him).

"BRAVA!" Matthew calls from the side, making her turn to him and smile bright.

The way she looks at the raven in delight makes Orpheus scowl at him. This was why he shifted on his knees and clapped his hands, cheering much louder, "BRAVISSIMA!"

Matthew flutters upward, "STUPENDA!"

Orpheus turns to the bird as he flies over the girl, making her squeal in glee. Drats... his Italian was stunted.

So, he rains her with Greek compliments, but she was too busy watching the bird fly around to notice.

Stupid bird.

By the time they're caught, Orpheus had successfully and impressively taught her how to do a C chord, as well as an Em chord. Baby girl tried her best to shift between them to actually play a progression, but her little fingers could barely hang on, so in the end, Orpheus magicked the chords (sat behind her and did the chords himself) as the girl did her darndest to strum, and she gratefully giggled as the two doting on her cheered for her performance.

It was Dream that caught the children playing together. Well, in truth, they weren't really caught, because he knew everything that was going around in his realm. He had felt a disturbance from within the vault and knew it was his son stealing his confiscated object (confiscated precisely because he was nasty to his sister once before) even though he was preoccupied. But since he had better things to do, he let it slide.

Dream took me by the hand and lead me quietly down the hall, intent on showing me something. I was really nervous to see what it was, considering the fact he kept rubbing my knuckles and muttered I should try not to react too much.

Needless to say, I had to bite him on his shoulder to shut myself up.

Dream broke into a smile as he felt me wrap my arms around him from behind. He brushes my arms gently and turns to me from over his shoulder, "they've been together ever since Orpheus arrived. He has been teaching her to play his instrument"

I muffle my mewl and feel my bottom lip quiver at the sight of my beaming little girl, giggling with her older brother.

Dream looks back at them and whispers, "shall we join them?"

"No!" I mutter quickly, "let them-" I choke on my words as I feel myself begin to sob, "let them have their moment."

"WOW KID!" Matthew coos, "YOU'RE PROBABLY THE BEST GUITARIST IN THE WORLD!"

Orpheus eyes him for that, knowing he was trying to egg him on, but then he melts when the girl giggles. He cannot contain the gasp that leaves him when he hears her say, "I fink Orphy iz- his GREATEST!"

The raven laughs, "hear that?" He turns to tease him, "she th-- ... ... are you crying?"

"NO! THERE'S SAND IN MY EYE-" sniffle- "M-MY DAD'S A JERK!"

Dream makes a hmp sound and feels me laugh against him before I start crying even harder.

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #morpheus fluff #dream fanfic #dad!dream of the endless #dad!dream #papa bear!dream #dream & reader #dream & child!reader #dream of the endless x reader #orpheus & sister!reader #orpheus #the sandman x reader #orpheus fluff #morpheus x reader

[tired0artist]

| The All-Father |

okay but what if after ragnarök kratos wasn’t the dad of boy but a dad of all?

or how kratos became the all-father.

He doesn’t know how it happened, nor who started it, but only weeks after Ragnarök he finds the first altar dedicated to the All-Father.

“Blessed is the realm, which hosts the just Allfather.

Blessed are the people, who walk the same paths as the mighty Allfather.

Blessed is the land, devoid of monsters because of the fearless Allfather.

Blessed are the days, after Ragnarök with the reforged Allfather.

We pray to you, Allfather.

Accept our gifts and bless us, in our new days.”

The altar wasn’t grand nor made of stone, it was wooden yet sturdy, already overflowing with flowers, stones, herbs and other trinkets that could be found in the early Spring.

Kratos frowned at the runic text once more, before heading off his own way. Was it in the past, he might have destroyed it, huffing at the blindness the human possessed when it came to the gods, who would never stop to read their little messages, nor their prayers.

But now, he leaves it alone, knowing that after Fimbulwinter and Ragnarök, they needed something to believe in. Or someone, whoever the so-called reforged All-Father was supposed to be.

He means to speak to Mimir about it, but once he is home, he remembers that the head was with Freya. Advising in Vanaheim as the tensions between the Aesir and Vanir grew heated.

Perhaps, he should join them in a day or so. He surely knew little of politics, but perhaps he could at the very least aid his companions in some other way.

Glancing around his home, his amber gaze lingered on the bed not far from his own. It was tidy and unmoved, from when Kratos remade it in the morning.

It was a habit which he developed since Faye’s passing. Atreus always forgot to make his bed look presentable, or at the very least not a complete mess. He tried many times, showing his boy how to do it, but in the end all of his training was lost on Atreus. In the end, Kratos tidied it up for him in the mornings, right after taking care of his own space. And even now that his boy is gone… he still wakes up, cleans his bed and remakes the already perfectly tidied up bed.

Kratos reasoned to himself often that he doesn’t like to change his routine. That he doesn’t want bugs to build a nest underneath the furrs.

But all that wasn’t true.

He remade the bed every morning because he missed his son. Because he wanted Atreus to come back and sleep in a clean bed. Because leaving the bed alone made him think too much about how long his boy was gone.

Blinking he let out a shaky breath and hung up his axe, tearing his gaze away from the empty spot Atreus’ leaving left in the hut.

It’s two days later, just as he makes his way to Týr’s temple, to transport himself to Vanaheim, that he finds another altar.

“I call to the Allfather, great God of War,

father to Loki, the great and just General of Realms.

Yours is the realm of justice, of strength, of judgement, of rebirth.

Yours is the hand that guides those in darkness, the axe that cuts the unjust.

Grant me, O Allfather, the justice for my child.

Grant me, O Allfather, the strength to smite down the one who took her.

Grant me, O Allfather, the judgement for his devious soul.

Grant me, O Allfather, the will for rebirth once the revenge has left me.”

It is him… the All-Father that the alters are mentioning.

Rage builds up as he reads the prayer, thoughts of Calliope and Atreus filling his head. Someone killed another’s child, and Kratos wills it with everything he possesses that they meet a grim end at the child’s parent’s hand.

It is hard, but he moves on. Doing his best not to think about him being called and prayed to as the All-Father. It will pass. Týr will come back from his journey and all will be well, he will take charge and be the beloved god again. All while Kratos retires back to his hut.

“It will pass.” he whispered to himself, leaving the altar behind him, trying not to shiver as he felt an echoing rage of another in the back of his mind, clinging to their right to seek revenge.

It will pass. He thought to himself, while in the middle of settling an agreement between Aesir and Vanir, feeling an echoing sense of relief from those around, all synced in thanking for the unheard prayer for peace being enacted.

It will pass. He said to Mimir and Freya as together they found an altar, in Vanaheim no less, reading the plea for the great beast, that Kratos just ended, to be slain.

It. Will. Pass. Kratos hissed under his breath, leaving the Lake of Nine in haste as a grand statue of the All-Father was being constructed.

It will pass.

“It doesn’t have to.” said Atreus, now a man grown, as tall as his father, as kind as his mother, as strong as Freya and as wise as Mimir. His son just stared at him, before nodding down at the lively new villages around the Lake of Nine, from where they sat together on top of a cliff.

“You earned this, father. Accept this as you accept their pleas and prayers. Allow yourself to have this purpose and for them to finally have an All-Father that listens. That walks among them with the same worn down hands and the same troubled mind. Don’t let it pass, father. Embrace it.”

Atreus smiled and reached out to touch his father’s chest “The God of War can retire for now, while the All-Father takes his post for a little while.”

Kratos cupped his son’s hand and squeezed it, nodding slowly and echoing quietly “Only for a little while…”

His son smiled and agreed “Only for a little while.”

Looking at the new settlements and the grand statue of the All-Father, Leviathan Axe and Gjallarhorn in his hands, Kratos nodded again.

It will pass… but it doesn’t have to. The God of War retires, while All-Father takes his post… but only for a little while.

Hundreds years later, all still pray and speak of one true All-Father only. The one that had both eyes, a mischievous son, bore an axe that rivalled Mjölnir and was a General that led all Nine Realms against the false God Odin in Ragnarök.

A little while can last quite a long time, it would seem

thank you for reading! i hope that you liked it, i might cross post this on ao3 but first i wanna see how it will be received here <3

okay fuck it it’s also up on ao3 and i added little bit to it.

#god of war ragnarok #god of war #gow #gow ragnarok #gowr #gow atreus #atreus #gow loki #kratos #kratos gow #god of war kratos #allfather kratos #kratos allfather #freya gow #mimir gow

[im-not-corrupted]

Part 1/6 of my merman Hob au (also on ao3 here!), of which I previously posted a snippet of here. Chapters two and three are half done so far so updates may take a bit? I’m not sure but we shall see!

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Merman!Hob, Human Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, the fantasy is very vague but like. mermaids., Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has Depression, Grief/Mourning, deals with the death of Orpheus, and Dream and Calliope's divorce, Brief suicidal ideation, Near Death Experiences, Drowning, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, POV Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Arranged Marriage, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Saves Hob Gadling, Developing Friendships

—————

The first time Morpheus de Endeles steps foot on a ship, it is with the intention of sailing to his wife’s homeland—the place of her birth, the place her parents rule, the place their son once knew far greater than he does now.

Ex wife, that is. They are no longer married now, because he had thoroughly ruined whatever the two of them had. The divorce had been a swift affair, and he is glad for it, despite the uproar it caused amongst his parent’s court and the disappointment his parents expressed in the face of such disaster. Last they saw one another, Calliope’s parting words had been scathing things, weapons made to kill and maim and cause the most damage possible while doing so.

She hates him now. This he acknowledges distantly as he steps on board the ship, feeling a little like he walks towards his own death. More than once, he bore witness to the end of a criminal’s life with the distinct impression that justice had been served, brutally and efficiently. Now he wonders if this is how they felt, facing their own end.

A bleak thought to start the trip off on, but that seems appropriate. If the knowledge of Calliope’s hatred for him is a distant thing, that is only because his mind remains occupied by other recent events. Namely, his son’s death.

The first time Morpheus de Endeles boards a ship, he does so with the intention of sailing to his son’s funeral.

Calliope insisted—over letters, written in elegant, swooping hand that did nothing to hide the sharp edges to her words—that Orpheus be buried in her homeland. And though the knowledge of her hatred is a distant thing, and has been since she spoke her last parting words, there was room inside him even then for the ache that arose as he read that letter. 

There was more than enough room inside him for the guilt, too. There still is. You sent our son off to his death, Calliope hissed at him. This, he knows, is true. It is a different kind of agony, this knowledge. To know his son is dead is one thing. To be the one to blame, to have Orpheus’s blood stain his hands however indirectly—well, that is another thing entirely.

It was also this knowledge that prompted him to grant his past wife this wish and agree that Orpheus should be buried in her homeland. It was, he figures, the least he could do. He had subjected her to the same pain that currently sits inside his chest, an agony he thinks he won’t be rid of for as long as he lives. If this would soothe some of that agony for her, then he will gladly make that sacrifice for her.

On this ship is Telute, too. As Morpheus stands by the railing, looking out at the sea and the sky with a sense of detachment he has not felt since dear Del’s death, she stands beside him. She is dressed similarly to him, in mourning regalia. This is not so different to either of their typical styles—black suits them both well, and they each prefer the darker, drearier colours to those Epithumia tends to don.

She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. It is a comforting weight. His shoulders bow underneath it. He does not deserve this comfort—She is dead, he told Orpheus, unsympathetic as he wept for his lost love Eurydice, and yet you live. So live.—but he is a greedy thing, and therefore does not push her away.

She does not speak. She does not move away, either. Not as the sails are raised, commands shouted across the deck of the ship. Not as they begin to leave the harbour, and any sense of familiarity. She remains there, standing beside him, in a show of solidarity as the ship begins to move.

The swaying motion leaves him feeling ill. He pushes it down insistently. It is a feeling he must bear—a punishment, for all he has brought upon both his own family and Calliope. The disappointment in Nyx’s eyes, the rage in Cronos’s, and Calliope’s final words are not things he is likely to forget. He holds them close to his chest, a reminder of his own failures and regrets. Perhaps this way, he will not make them again.

A foolish thought, that. He has always been particularly resistant to the idea of change.

”It’ll be alright,” Telute tells him softly.

It is not a comfort. He nods stiffly anyway.

The two siblings remain standing for a while, silent and still as statues, and the feeling of dread doesn’t leave him for the duration of the trip.

+++

It is a quiet affair, the funeral. The hushed air, the grief that seems to live in it, do not disguise the looks he receives from both Calliope and her sisters. They hate him too. He does not begrudge them this, and tries his best to ignore them.

They are not his concern. His concern is Orpheus—his dear son, whose eyes were the same lovely brown as Calliope’s, whose raven hair curled at the nape of his neck. Orpheus was a joy, with a grin made for laughter and a voice made for singing. His affinity for music made things all the brighter back at home—there was no way to be miserable, even under the shadow of his parents, when Orpheus sang or played the lute. It was his own joy that made it so lovely, Morpheus thinks. It had been infectious. He had been made for music, and that became apparent with every string he plucked and note he hit.

This reminder made the funeral all the more painful. It is spent mostly in silence, broken only by the weeping of immediate family members and speeches made by Orpheus’s Calliope’s family. Not himself—he adamantly refuses when Calliope offers him the chance. It disappoints her, he sees it in her face, but how is he supposed to put words to the grief he felt over his son’s death? How is he supposed to speak and remain composed while reliving the death of one he loves more than he has loved anything or anybody before?

The silence is a mournful thing, sorrowful and weighing heavy. He thinks, for a moment, that he should’ve liked to hear Orpheus play at least once more before his death.

He does not cry. He is too scraped raw for that, for tears to come to his eyes. (Later, Calliope admonishes him about it. They are the last two standing before his grave, the sight o the name Orpheus carved into his headstone a knife in his chest. You did not even cry, she murmurs, her voice a terribly brittle thing. And Morpheus stands there and wishes he could turn back time, that the names they were given meant something more than abstract concepts. You do not even care.) He wants to cry. He wants to shed tears over his son’s death, to rage and agonise and scream at the sky. It all seems terribly unfair.

Telute remains by his side. Their arms are interlocked, now, his sister’s hand on his arm, and he is glad for her. For the steady, comforting presence she offers—for the ability to lean on her, to let himself succumb to despair while she remains the strong one. He has always looked up to Telute, to his dear sister Death, and he is more grateful than he thinks he can ever put into words for the fact that she didn’t leave him to face this by himself. He does not know if he would’ve coped otherwise.

She leaves him eventually, as those gathered begin to disperse. “You should say your own goodbyes,” she tells him, head tilting towards Orpheus’s new grave. Calliope sits before it, a motionless study of sorrow and mourning.

She is wise, dear Telute. He knows this. He knows this well. Always, she has had the answers, the right words to say. She is right about this, too.

But he stares after Calliope and yearns. Yearns to reach out, to offer a comforting hand on her shoulder or his own shoulder to cry on. Neither of those are things she will welcome. He does not blame her for this, but the yearning does not follow any kind of logic he knows of. They are nothing now, their relationship little more than ashes between them. His memories of their time together is soured by grief, by frustration and rage aimed at this entire damned situation, the hopelessness he feels so keenly.

He loves her still. Would offer her comfort despite it all, if he knew she’d accept it.

”I should,” he agrees softly. He doesn’t move. He isn’t sure he can. Grief has made his heart a cold, hardened thing. He is chilled with it, his blood like ice in his veins.

Telute offers him a terribly sympathetic look. It grates on him, makes him clench his jaw. He does not need pity.

Yet he would not dare say such a thing to his sister, and so she ignores the affronted expression he knows he wears and urges, “Go.”

He does. Calliope speaks to him only once, and it is as painful as the funeral itself. (I care, he wants to tell her. He wants to scream it, wants to make sure she knows. I care. He was my son, too.) She leaves him standing by their son’s grave.

He does not cry even then. He leaves a flower atop the gravestone instead, knowing it will be a while until he sees it again, and returns to Telute. (His eyes sting as they make their way back to their accommodations. He cries then. A single tear, but it is something.)

+++

The second time Morpheus de Endeles boards a ship, it is to return to his own homeland. It is to turn his back on his son, on the woman he once called wife and still loves as one despite her thorough abandonment of her. (There is a slowly rising anger there, too, as he thinks of her hardened eyes, once so gentle, as she accused him of not caring. Does she not know him better than that? Did their five years of marriage amount to nothing, for her to know him so little?)

It is also to face his first storm at sea, and to nearly drown.

It happens after a week and a half on the sea. They are nearly home, the captain tells him. He is a prideful thing, this captain, sure of himself and his abilities. I have not steered this ship wrong before, my Lord, he says, and this is enough for Morpheus, who only wishes to return to his home and immerse himself in the library so he might escape the horror of the last couple of months. He finds himself too tired to ask further questions, and simply leaves to return to his own cabin. His body has mostly acclimated to sea travel now—his stomach no longer feels like it is about to betray him at any given moment, and he is able to walk steadily.

A day later, they are hit by a storm.

It is a brutal, savage thing. At first, it is just the rain—the sky opens up above them to drench them in rain, the event so sudden it comes as a surprise. The skies were overcast before this, yes, but not bad enough for a storm so terrible, surely.

The sudden winds rip at them fiercely. The tides, which had been gentle for their journey so far, turn violent, larger than he ever imagined the sea capable of. His own fault, that—there are many stories about the brutality of the ocean, the fury that hides within its depths. He simply forgot about them, distracted by the beauty of the sun glistening on its calmer waves and the knowledge of why he stands atop a ship on the sea. He chose to see the beauty instead of the danger—he knows, in that moment, that he will not do the same a second time.

If he lives to see a second time. He is suddenly unsure he will—both sea water and rain drenches the deck. The crew hurries to obey the captain’s shouted, panicked orders, only just heard over the roaring winds. The ship tips and rocks and sways precariously. Morpheus grips onto the railing, tight enough his palms ache, and finds himself filled with a loud, insistent fear.

People die in the ocean all the time. The sea is not kind—it is full of rage and it is vengeful, determined to drown those who try to conquer it. He knows this. He knows this and yet he had let himself be distracted. And now he will die here, so soon after his son’s own death.

It is not that idea that terrifies him. Death does not scare him. He does not think it ever has. He believes not in any kind of afterlife—death, he believes, is simply nothing. To die is to no longer exist. There is beauty in that, he thinks. He is tired of existing already, and the grief that only swells within him makes that exhaustion all the more unbearable.

He does fear for his sister, though. His sister, whose eyes shine brightly, who treated his son kindly. Who had been there for him during his younger years, when misery clung to him like a parasite and sucked him dry of all desire for life. She does not understand him properly and often says the wrong things, but Morpheus doesn’t think that’s the point. She tries. She cares, offering him soft, fond smiles that are sometimes exasperated. She loves him, and even made this journey for him.

He thinks she does not deserve to die. He thinks, too, that he would do any number of things to ensure she makes it out.

There are shouts on the air, growing more urgent by the second. This is, surely, proof that this storm is far stronger than the rest of them, and he grits his teeth. Insistently, he surveys the crew as they rush back and forth, only—only he cannot see Telute anywhere. She doesn’t seem to be on the main deck, or perhaps he isn’t looking hard enough. The ship rocks and sways and his stomach lurches with it—he is not used to so much violent movement, and it is distracting.

But he steels his spine and stumbles across the deck, shouting as loud as he can, “Telute!”

”My Lord,” somebody says behind him, and he whirls—too fast, for his stomach lurches and he fears then that he will throw up, which would certainly be a reaction to have here and now—to find Lucienne standing behind him, her expression panicked and concerned. “My Lord, we must get you onto one of the boats.”

”No,” he denies immediately. The worst of his nausea dissipates but his voice still feels weak. He looks past Lucienne, ignoring the rain drenching his clothes and his face and his hair, and tries desperately to find Telute. “No. I must—I must find my sister.”

”My Lord, Jessamy is looking for her,” Lucienne informs him. When he returns his attention to her face, there is a quiet devastation there, and he regrets how harshly he spoke to her. She is a patient advisor, dear Lucienne. She does not deserve his harshness. Not now and not ever. “You must come with me now.”

He would trust Jessamy with his life, if it came to that. There is nobody more steadfast, nobody more loyal, than her. If she searches for Telute, there is little chance that she will stop until she inevitably finds her. Her stubborn streak runs bright, as does her loyalty to the Royal Family.

It is enough to inspire relief. Enough to make his shoulders slump for a moment—and as he says, “Very well,” he sees Jessamy escort a rather worried-looking Telute, who glances over her shoulder frantically, desperately. She will be safe, then.

“This way, my Lord,” Lucienne urges him, and he makes to follow.

He takes nothing more than a single step before the ship crests another wave violently, the winds driving them in the wrong direction, and it suddenly tips.

There is nothing for him to grab immediately, save Lucienne. Only, as he loses his footing and watches as Lucienne quickly regains hers, he doesn’t think that would be fair. If he falls—and he is, he realises belatedly, he is falling and falling and the violent, beautiful sea has never seemed quite so close—if he falls, he knows he would only drag her down with him. He is unaccustomed to this, to being upon the sea like so. He was not made for this. He was made for a throne to sit beside his parents’, and then beside his elder brother when his time eventually comes, just like the rest of their siblings. If not that, then marriage to another kingdom, to keep their ties strong, to keep trades between countries going. His fate was never supposed to be this.

He loses his footing and he falls and there is railing behind his back, digging in, and panic flares inside his chest. The ship is righted quickly, only to be assaulted again, and he does not cling tightly enough to the railing behind him to stop himself from falling overboard.

Then he is in the ocean. It is frigid, freezing, and he gasps loudly when he breaks the surface. It is the kind of cold that could seep through to bone, that could freeze him all the way through until he is nothing but ice.

He never really learned how to swim properly, but he knows enough to keep himself afloat. The winds whip his hair, soaked through with rain and sea water both, into his face, and he is not sure how he can make it out of this. The ship he fell from is being pushed away from him, the winds terrifyingly strong, despite efforts of the crew and the captain. With some deep-rooted instinct, he tries to swim forward, cursing inwardly at himself and his younger mind’s insistence on finding pleasure in things other than his lessons.

For a moment, it seems like he may be capable of making it back. It seems like he could truly do it, could make it close enough to the ship they could help him back up, or close enough they might be able to pull him back up.

Then a wave crests behind him, shadowing him, a great, looming giant, and falls atop him without a care in the world.

He is pulled under the surface of the ocean and holds his breath intently. It is dark down there. The sea pushes him from seemingly every direction, with the same ferocity as the storm, and try as he does to push against the currents, he is unable to do much at all. The surface remains terribly distant, and that distance seems suddenly insurmountable. He knows, with abrupt and perfect clarity, that he is not making it out of there.

Morpheus de Endeless does not often contemplate death. Not truly.

There are thoughts, of course, that sneak past his own defences. They boil down to this: If I were to die today, I do not think I would mind. Ultimately, that is easy to ignore, to push away. He does not truly want to die, the way he knows some people do. He has his duties to his family, after all. He simply would not mind if death caught him in its clutches.

Now, with his lungs burning and his frantic struggles against the damned ocean proving futile, he thinks this may be preferable. Beneath all the pain of oxygen deprivation as he stubbornly refuses to try to take in a breath only to swallow the ocean into his lungs lies the grief, the ache, the knowledge that he so thoroughly ruined everything good he somehow managed to make his own. His Calliope. His Orpheus. His loves. One hates him now. The other is buried in the ground at only nineteen, hardly an adult and far too young to lose. His parents’ disappointment is an easy thing to conjure up in his mind, and he hates that just as much as he does his losses. What is there left for him, above the surface? At home?

When he frames it like that, he thinks—he thinks it would not be so terrible to face death. He thinks it might be better than rising another day only to remember his son is gone, to see another sunset and acknowledge the fact that Orpheus will not get to see one again.

When he thinks about it like that, it is remarkably easy to stop struggling. Involuntarily, he tries to suck in a breath only to choke on ocean water, and now he is stuck in an endless cycle of pain as he slowly drowns. His head feels…fuzzy, his vision full of little black spots. Distantly, he knows this isn’t good. Knows if he doesn’t do something, he will not make it out of this alive.

He does not want to. The ocean is not violent, he realises now. It is kind, and offers him a reprieve as his body slowly sinks, weighed down by the rich fabrics he wears, as his vision grows hazy and dark and keeping his eyelids open seems like an insurmountable task.

Before he closes them properly, he thinks—he thinks he sees something in the water. A figure, moving towards him. A person, perhaps, only—only that looks like a fish’s tail, fins and all.

Then his eyes fall shut, blocking out everything around him, and he loses himself to the void and the cold and the blissful, welcoming nothing that waits for him beyond.

+++

He awakes with a gasping, heaving breath. His lungs are greedy things, sucking in air with desperation, and he presses a hand to his chest. Beneath his palm, his heart races. Adrenaline and panic both fill his veins and his hand shakes. His lungs feel full, but as he coughs mostly involuntarily, nothing comes up.

It takes a bit for him to calm down. When he does, when his lungs stop heaving and he stops coughing and he is left with nothing but an ache in his lungs, his head and a rawness in his throat, he looks around himself.

He sits on a beach, the sands golden and kissed by the sun. It shines down on him, blessing his face with its light. His clothes are soaked through and no doubt ruined, and before him—before him is the ocean.

It holds none of the fierceness he saw earlier, and he stares at it blankly. It looks as welcoming, as lovely, as it did the day he stepped on board the ship. His mind had been occupied then, yes, but he had enough awareness to acknowledge the sea’s beauty.

Not enough awareness to acknowledge its dangers, though. He remembers in startling clarity the coldness of its waters, the ferocity with which it drowned him, the storm that waged and threw him overboard.

He should’ve been more careful.

It is not just the ocean that lies before him, he realises after a moment, but a man, too. A man, staring at him with honey-eyes that catch the sunlight as though they were made for it, with a curiosity on his face that, if it weren’t for the sudden anxiety twisting his all-too empty stomach, would’ve endeared him immediately. His skin is tan, golden like the sands, and some distant part of his brain wants to press his lips to that skin and find out what it tastes like for himself. Like ocean salt and sweat and the sun itself, he thinks, and then considers the possibility that he may have suffered some brain damage due to oxygen deprivation.

It takes him a bit to find his voice. During that time, the man—sitting in the ocean as though he belongs there, ignorant of its gentle waves lapping at him—continues to stare, head tilted like a particularly curious bird.

“Who are you?” Morpheus asks, wincing at the hoarseness of his throat. It feels scraped raw, and he thinks he would like to simply not speak for a while, only—only this is rather strange, isn’t it?

The man’s shoulders shake with laughter. He is a beautiful creature, this man, with chestnut hair framing his joyful face. Laughter, and amusement, becomes him. Distantly, Morpheus is aware that he should probably take offence at the man’s laughter, only—only he doesn’t really have the energy. If anything, he thinks he’d much rather sleep. “The one who saved you, obviously. Or did you forget you nearly drowned?"

He has half a mind to scowl at the strange man in the water, but only just has enough energy to narrow his eyes. "You saved me," he repeats dumbly. In his defence, he did nearly drown, and sleep calls to him now, an alluring song. Nearly drowning is, apparently, rather exhausting. "We were in the middle of the ocean. We weren't even close to any land. How did you—"

Come to think of it, he can't recall whether he has seen this man's face before. Though perhaps that's explained easily. He was distracted on the ship, after all, and it wasn't like he went out of the way to remember the entire crew. Both Telute and Lucienne always said he should try to interact with people a little more than he does, but he thinks recent events made him exempt from that rule these last few months.

Still. The man's statement doesn't really make sense. They were in the middle of an ocean, and in a storm no less. It would've been impossible for the man to save him then, at least not without a boat or ship of his own.

Thinking of it makes his head hurt more. For a moment he feels ready to simply shrug and accept the nonsensical answer as truth in the hopes that maybe the man would leave him to rest. Logically, he knows that isn't what will happen at all. If this man knows who Morpheus is, if he recognises him, then there will be some kind of demand. A boon for saving Prince Morpheus de Endeles’s life.

He can't do anything about that now, though, and the idea of laying on this beach and letting himself wither under the sun's heat seems very appealing. He doesn't even know where they are, or how close he is to his kingdom. How he's supposed to make it back in this condition, he doesn't know. The task seems impossible, in all honesty.

The man does not leave him to rest, not even when Morpheus simply nods stiffly and says, "Sure. Saved me. Alright." He remains in the ocean actually, the waves lapping at his torso, and continues to stare at him expectantly as though waiting for something more. Eventually, he rolls his eyes—Rude, Morpheus thinks, but hardly cares in the moment–and moves a little closer. It looks almost like the ocean parts for him, but that's ridiculous.

Then—well, then things get even stranger. Which also seems impossible, but—there they are. The man shifts in the water and brings what looks like a tail out of the ocean, all golden scales and fins. Beautiful, he thinks, knowing he's staring but unable to help it. Of course the man's tail would be golden. That only makes sense when the rest of him could've been carved from sunlight.

A little belatedly, he realises just what he's staring at. Which is the man, who has a fish's tail instead of legs.

Hallucinating. He is hallucinating, then. That makes sense. Still, he can't help but laugh quietly—it makes him wince, his lungs still raw and tender, but the pain is temporary and certainly doesn't matter much if he's hallucinating—and says, "You're a merman."

The statement is ludicrous. Morpheus wonders just how much damage nearly drowning can do to a person, and then figures he doesn't want to know at all, actually.

"That is what you call us, yes," the man agrees easily.

Sure. Why not? "Why did you save me then?"

He shrugs softly. “Too pretty for death,” the—the merman, of all things, tells him. It sounds almost petulant.

He is losing his mind. He had swallowed a lot of water. A merman. “One can be too pretty for death?” he asks weakly, his throat hoarse and his chest tight with pain. The ridiculous nature of the question at least makes that pain easy to ignore. It will get him later, he knows that much, but he lets himself be distracted by his amusement at the situation for a while.

The merman blinks at him, expression ever-serious. “You are.”

”Right.” Right. Of course. Too pretty for death. That makes sense. As much sense as a merman fishing him out of the water does, anyway.

Whatever energy allowed him to carry this conversation leaves him suddenly and he falls onto his back on top of the sand, his elbows failing to hold him up any longer. The sun glares down at him and he gazes back up at it blearily. Exhaustion clings to him just as the beach does to his sea-soaked clothes. Sleep seems like a wonderful, bright idea.

He let his eyes fall shut. It isn't very effective for blocking out the sun’s rays—it remains insistent, and closing his eyes doesn't give him the satisfaction of darkness that he dearly wants. Still, while that would’ve been a problem any other time, his body yearns for the void, to let the dark take him. It would be easy to simply lay here and wither, until either the tide takes him or someone finds him. Whichever comes first. He doesn’t mind either way.

Then the merman speaks again. “Are you dying, pretty one?”

It takes a great deal of effort, but he grunts, “No.”

”Are you sure?”

He is not, actually. But that is no concern of this mermaid, and he merely answers, “I am certain.”

Silence follows that statement. Morpheus lets himself relax, lets himself hope this is it. He can sleep now, he thinks, and the thought is almost blissful—and then he is quickly proven wrong, for the merman states, “You look like you’re dying. Does anybody look for you?”

He hardly cares. Distantly, though, he thinks Lucienne might be. Jessamy and Matthew, too, maybe. “Perhaps,” he says after a couple of minutes pass, when he realises he has not yet replied. "I would like to sleep now."

The merman makes a considering noise. "I do not know much about humans," he says slowly, and Morpheus can practically feel the concern in his voice now, "but I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea. I'll stay and talk to you until you're found."

"Must you?" he asks, a desperate edge to his voice. The merman's voice is pleasant enough, yes, but rest is the preferred option here, regardless of what he says.

"Yes," he confirms. Morpheus's eyes are still closed so he can't actually see but he can imagine the smile on his face easily enough.

He sighs heavily and wonders what he did to deserve this. Then figures this is some weird, twisted kind of punishment for all that happened with Orpheus and Calliope and resigns himself to his fate. "Very well."

The merman talks, almost endlessly, until the sun is low in the sky. It is truly an impressive amount of talking. Morpheus doesn't remember much of that afternoon. At some point, he regains just enough energy to sit up, to listen more attentively. The merman, whose name he doesn't learn, seems to appreciate that. And just when despair begins to eat at him—I will not be found, he thinks and despite his inaction while he sank into the ocean, the idea panics him, I will die on this beach—there are calls of his name from behind him. They are voices he recognises and his heart picks up its pace when he turns around to see Lucienne, Telute and Jessamy walking down the beach towards him, each of them looking a little rough but all of them alive.

When he turns back to the ocean, the merman is no longer there, and Morpheus wonders if he dreamt the whole thing up. He does not mention it as Jessamy helps him to his feet, as Telute pulls him in for a hug, as the three of them begin to make it back home, to their duties, but he does not forget the kind eyes of the man who saved him from death at the hands of the ocean.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #morpheus dream of the endless #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #merman au #eris writes things #death of the endless

[honestlyboringperson]

Name: Sayaka Miki

Arcanas: Justice/Lovers

Personas: Calliope, Aphrodite

Our go-getter of the team and avid music fan, Sayaka is the same as we’ve seen in the anime, including her idealistic and black&white view on the world and justice. She finds Kyoko to be frustrating. If she has the power to defend the weak and protect the world, why isn’t she doing anything? Unlike in the anime, she is fortunately still alive by the end of the game. Hitomi still confessed her feelings to Kyousuke before she can, but this is after realizing that they just made the world closer to ending by defeating the 12 shadows.

Sayaka’s idealistic view on the world shatters and almost develops apathy syndrome due to it. But she manages to get a wake up call with the help of Madoka and Hitomi. After Madoka is forgotten by the world, she is still very hostile towards Homura, as she was there during Madoka’s last moments and still grieving over Madoka’s death.

PERSONAS

Sayaka’s initial persona is Calliope, of the Justice Arcana. Calliope is the muse of epic poetry, and is the mother of Orpheus. Epic poetry mainly focuses on myths and tales about heroes and the gods, fitting Sayaka’s “hero of justice” theme, and with Calliope being a muse, this also fits with her over arching theme of music. With Orpheus being the son of Calliope, this refers to Sayaka’s romantic troubles over Kyosuke. I mixed in a bit of a groom’s outfit to fit with Sayaka’s love problems but also a conductor’s dress to fit her music themes. Her helmet has pink lenses; literal rose coloured glasses.

After Hitomi and Madoka’s intervention, Sayaka gains the persona Aphrodite. Aphrodite is well known to be the goddess of love, romance, sex, all that gushy stuff but also her flighty and slightly inconsistent character. This of course, was based off of Lisa Silverman’s evolution, learning to love herself, reflected by her Persona going to a simple spirit to the full blown god of love. Aphrodite’s character can also fit with Sayaka’s former disposition, being different to different people; hostile to Homura, enthusiastic and friendly towards Madoka, frustrated with Kyoko, etc. Aphrodite, in comparison to Calliope has lighter armor and her helmet doesn’t cover her head entirely, referring to Sayaka’s maturing mindset; no longer holding herself to an impossible standard of good and justice.

#madoka magica #magia record #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #persona #persona 3 #mahou shojo madoka magica #madoka magica rebellion #Madoka Magica au #pmmm au #crossover #persona au #madoka magika #puella magia madoka magica #madoka magica mobage #sayaka miki #pmmm sayaka #persona 3 reload

[snarkythewoecrow]

we're pretending it's still wip wednesday

@kingofdarkness00 is always lovely and tagging me, so here is me aiming to actually do one close to the right day

okay, another random snippet from the dream/hob angst fest with all the tropes, yes, believe it or not, this snippet is actually from the same fic... what can I say? lack of inspiration and random ideas never seems to be a problem, but um, not sure how to set this up, except, think post all the trauma i put hob through, hob going through a rough recovery, and dream sorta struggling a bit, being a bit frustrated, emotions are hard and shit, so basically, this snippet is a bit of the scene where dream retreats to seek council of the one person who he trusts to truly understand him and what hob is going through, even if he feels a bit selfish for doing it... enter calliope stage right please....

Calliope ducked her head. “I would be remiss if I were to say you appeared well—as for a god of sleep and dreams, you look awfully tired, Oneiros.” A painful smile. “Perhaps it’s the weariness at being unable to change the past that is catching up to me.”  “So, does this mean you are ready to speak of Orpheus—of what happened to our son?” Guilt seized his throat and squeezed—because what did it make him—how self-serving—that he hadn’t invited her to reflect on the memories of their child, to offer the support that he’d neglected to give so long ago? His lips parted, words hanging from his tongue before remembering why he’d summoned her—selfish or not. “No, though speaking about our son is something I’d like to do—soon—if you were amenable to visiting again—that is to say, if you don’t find my company as intolerable as you once did.” Her breathy laugh and eye roll proved her still better than him. “Just as you’d answer my call—I shall always attend to yours. So, if we’re not here to discuss our history, then what is it that has affected you enough to summon me?” She raised her brows, head tilting. “Because that is a look I haven’t seen in so very long—not since we met our end.” He clenched his jaw—defensive for no reason other than pride or perhaps fear of being perceived. “I—“ he began, then stopped, sharp edges softening at her radiance, warmth. At her forgiveness. Her and Hob were more alike than he’d realized. What did humans say about a type? Shaking the thoughts aside, he pressed forward despite the itch in his throat. “I’ve come to ask for advice, as I’ve—I’ve found myself not knowing what to do—and—and I suppose you were right. I've changed--changed in ways that have left me... questioning--lost. Perhaps even fearful of making the same mistakes I once made with you." Something seemed to have become clear to her, as a quiet "Oh," escaped her lips. "Oh, Oneiros, you continue to surprise me still." He huffed. “That’s all you have to offer?” She rolled her eyes. “Scowling like a wet cat will not earn any favors. Can't a woman remark on the things she sees?" “I don't recall you stating more than your astonishment." "I suppose--though I speculate it to be true." His brows lifted, otherwise his expression blank. "And do I want to know what you suspect of me?" "That you're in love—that you've opened your heart in a way you'd never quite been able to do with me." The guilt burned his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t—“ But he didn’t get to finish as two fingers pressed to his lips. “No, do not apologize for love, Onieros—you hold no more sway over the decisions of your heart than you do the choice of the stars to shine in your eyes.” He stayed silent, knowing better than to challenge a Muse on such a topic. Then, the fingers moved from his lips, her palm sliding to cup his cheek. “Now, come, take my hand and sit beneath the cypress,” she said, threading together their fingers. “I fancy to hear the tale of the one who claimed your heart—who has you seeking my council in such a state.”

@buckybeardreams @thefangirloutof-time @kydrogendragon

#dreamling #the sandman #calliope sandman #snippets #my wips #snark writes #it's the fic that never ends #it just getting going until my tears short out the keyboard #this was meant to be under 1k #my muse is a sadistic femme dom into seeing me cry #no other explanation as to why the word count and ideas for scenes continue to pile up #its 3am #idk why that seems important rn but it does #🐦‍⬛

[thenightling]

 I really, really, really, reeeeaaallly wish people who don't know the characters would stop "explaining' The Sandman to people. Things being spread that are not true:  1.  False: Morpheus is bad with children.  Morpheus is not bad with children.   His fall out with Orpheus was when Orpheus was a grown man.  Calliope even testified at Morpheus's wake that Morpheus was very good with Orpheus when he was small.  He even made him musical instruments.

   2.   False:  "Jessamy was an ordinary raven. That's why she doesn't talk and why she could be shot.   Matthew is a dream-raven so he's different."   No, in the comics Jessamy does talk.  She was Morpheus's Raven since at least the 1780s. And all of his ravens are deceased mortals.  Lucien (now Lucienne) was the first raven and can still take raven form at will according to the story The Hunt.

   3.   False: All Nightmares are evil, it's just their nature.  No. their nature is to be scary in your dreams.  Most of them never really harm anyone outside of the story acted out in your dreams.   It's like the monsters in Nightmare before Christmas.  "Life's no fun without a good scare. That's our job but we're not mean."  Most of the nightmares are actually quite friendly when not doing their jobs. Cain and Abel, for example, would invite you over for tea and biscuits while they tell scary stories.

  4.   False:  Daniel is Morpheus's biological son.   No, it's important to know that Orpheus was his only son, it's a major plot point.  Also Morpheus was in a glass cage when Daniel was conceived in the comics so there’s also that... 5.   False: Morpheus groomed Daniel and could have picked any mortal child to be his heir.   Daniel isn't just his heir.  Daniel IS Dream of The Endless.  It's not a title, it's what he is.   He's not a normal child.   Daniel gestated in dreams for two years after being the result of a woman being impregnated by a ghost.   He's no normal baby.  And, as far as I know, a normal human child can't just become an aspect (Piece) of an Endless.  

6.  False:  Morpheus would tell you to just “stop doing that” if he sees you fall in front of him.

I sort of understand where this comes from since he says “Then stop it” when Delirium tells him it hurts her to be sane.  But we already know he offers to help someone up when she falls in front of him. 7.  False:  Despair would win against “Hope” in “The Oldest Game” but Lucifer didn’t want to say it.  This is repeated so often that those that think they are deep and clever for saying it don’t seem able to stop and think about it.  Hope defeats Despair. They’re two sides of the same coin, each counters the other. Each Endless is a thing and its opposite.  Despair also represents Hope.  Remember, she even accidentally orchestrated the creation of Superman.  Pretty much anything you come up with that can beat hope is defeated by Hope so you have a stalemate, not a victory.   Also in the comics the contest wasn’t even against Lucifer, it was against Choronzon.     

8.  False: "Morpheus hates stairs."  I felt like I was having a stroke on a thread in my Sandman group when someone tried to "Explain" to me that Morpheus doesn't like staircases.  I showed him seated on his stairs in The Sandman: Brief Lives, and they decided to tell me he doesn't like climbing stairs. Umm... What?   Why?    He doesn't have bad legs.   He's the King of Dreams AND a drama queen.  

You don't think he likes to dramatically have a cape billow behind him as he descends or ascends a staircase like Christopher Lee's Count Dracula?      There's even a Netflix poster of him standing ON a staircase. it's petty but I am tired of people spreading false information about The Sandman canon and then other people fall for it and assume it's true because it's gone unquestioned.          

#The Sandman #Sandman #Morpheus #Dream of The Endless

[pinksirensong]

LOVE OF THE ENDLESS (II)

many thousands of years after…

 As Love of the Endless Y/N should’ve know how to deal better with a heartbreak, but for many years all she could do was cry and feel sorry for herself. Morpheus did marry Calliope and they even had a son, but that didn’t end well. She would never have the guts to tell him that it wouldn’t work, it couldn’t work because he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. That was how the threads worked, they connected souls in a way that no one could mess with. Morpheus was right about one thing, it was the last time, because even with all the knowledge she refused to be his dirty little secret any longer. When he called her, a few years after his loss, she refused to show up at his realm and afraid that he might come to her Love decided to close her kingdom to all outsiders. No other Endless would ever be allowed at Akai Ito again and she could finally be at peace and move on. If mortals could have many lovers and be happy without their other half, why couldn’t she? He was her brother, and she might not see him this way but for their family they were brother and sister so now her mind would made peace with this. Now, holding Destiny’s sigil, the only left at her gallery, she called for him.

- Destiny, my dear twin, I hold your sigil and ask for permission to come to your realm. – if there was someone who understood her pain it was Destiny, she shared everything with him, and he too was sad to not being able to help her end the thread. Y/N had his help in taking all of her sigils out of their sibling’s galleries and destroying the ones in her possession, all but his for she could never be away from her twin. Isolating herself from her family wasn’t hard, the Endless weren’t exactly close to each other.

- You are always welcome at my realm, sister. – after his response she used her powers to go to him.

- Brother, I am afraid this is not a social visit. Although you must know the reason before I even called you.

- Indeed, I do.

- Where is he?

- Captured by the laws of magic, there is nothing I can do for him.

- But I can so please tell me how I can find him. I shall see how to do the rest on my own.

- Sister…

- All this time I tangled up my thread with Morpheus, kept myself away from him. Yet all I can feel is his pain and despair, I can feel how lonely he is and it is hurting me. Please, my twin, help me. I shall not stay by his side once it is over, my mind is set in moving forward with my life.

- There is not much I can tell you, you and I both know it is already written, just like you and him. No matter what the rest of our siblings think of it, you are both fated to each other, and your thread is the proof of that. I hoped that by now you would understand it and accept, I thought Dream would be the stubborn one. – a rare but genuine smile graced his features. – Your thread connects you and Dream, he is at the end of it. That is all I can tell you, dear twin. – something clicked at her mind, now she knew what to do to find him.

- I understand now, thank you. Know that, unlike the others, you are always welcome at my realm. I love you, brother, but I must go now. – with that she made her way to the waking world. Threads were easy for her, usually she used to only untangle them to help lovers find the other faster. There were four colours they could be, usually were red that meaned the connection between soulmates, but that turned gold once the bond was consecrated and white when one of them died. The last colour was black, very rare to see one, but it was true that there was a fine line between love and hate. Now all she needed to do was focus on her thread, hold the part that was linked to her and follow it to Dream.

………………………………………………………………………………

Love of the Endless always had a white dove by her side, they were made by the soul of a lover that refused to follow into the unknow without their other half. Until the day both souls were reunited that dove would be serving Love of the Endless. Unlike Dream’s raven, her friendship with them always had an expiration date, they would eventually leave her and move on, and she was happy with it.

- Luna, my loyal friend, I require your assistance in finding Dream of the Endless raven. Her name is Jessamy, and she must be around this place. – the end of her thread took her to Fawny Rig, a place impregnated with darkness that didn’t allow her to get too close. “I shall bring her to you, sire.”, Lune replied on her head. She didn’t have to wait long for Luna brought to her Jessamy. – Hello, dear Jessamy. I am here to seek Dream of Endless, is it truth that he is being imprisoned here?

- My lady, I’m afraid it is true. A man named Roderick Burgess is the one doing it.

- Can you get inside or does their twisted magic keep you away too?

- I can and did it but have yet to found exactly where my master is.

- Luna will help you with your quest, you two must find Dream. We need to free him. The waking world needs him. – I need him, she wanted to say, but at the end she denied herself the right to want and need Morpheus. For days they did surveillance around the manor while Y/N tried to get close enough to see a thread and use for her advantage. Days turned to weeks and months, Y/N had to leave sometimes to attend business at her realm and the waking world, they were without Dream and couldn’t be without Love as well. She held hope close by her heart, she would do anything to get him back. Even after months became years and decades, she didn’t stop having hope, her heart could never do it. Unfortunately, things got even harder, they made a plan to distract the guards and free Morpheus, but it backfired and both Jessamy and Luna died. Y/N was devastated, she couldn’t even say goodbye to her friend and wait with her for Death. Still, Love had to held hope and focus so they wouldn’t be gone for nothing. Everything changed the day she finally found a thread, one that connected two males that resided there: Alex and Paul. From that day on she used as much as she could of her power on their thread, trying to influence them to free Dream, but not being able to be close enough to actually hold it and use it all her will it wasn’t enough. Soon they began to grow old and not very careful, not enough to tear down the power that did not allow her to get inside, but sufficient for her to actually interact with Paul. That day changed everything.

- Oh, dear. I am so sorry. – Paul said, she had purposely bumped into him at the market. – Are you hurt?

- No, no. I am fine, sir. – she let out a sigh. – It was my fault, I am distracted. So sorry, kind sir.

- There is no need for that. Are you okay?

- Just missing someone. It is extremally hard to be away from the people that you love.

- I am deeply sorry for you, miss. Afraid I must leave now, my husband is waiting for me. Wish you all the happiness and that your loved one returns to you safe and sound. – and with that he left, Y/N didn’t need to follow him for she now could hold his thread. Slowly and carefully, she walked the path towards the manor, holding tight the thread. “Free him. Free him. Free him. Paul McGuire, today you will free Dream of the Endless”, she ordered the thread. He couldn’t ignore her and her power, this was her domain. Y/N didn’t need to be told it worked, because that night she felt the pull and her heart skipped a beat when Love of the Endless finally felt a warm and loving wave coming from him towards her. Dream of the Endless was finally free and now she could finally disappear once again.

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