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writethrough · 25 days

Note

Can I request a morpheus x reader where his s/o has curly/wavy hair? Or just reader being obsessed with touching his hair and he absolutely love it and he likes to do the same

Mid-Afternoon Dream

(Morpheus x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Morpheus enjoys his moment of peace with you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 430

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I went with the second half of your idea since I like to try and keep Reader as up-to-interpretation as possible. I hope you enjoy!

You were lying on your couch, music playing softly from your record player. Spring was slowly shifting into summer, enough that you had opened your windows to feel the breeze drift through your home.

The early afternoon rays filtered in, and everything seemed brighter and newer in that way only the warm weather brought. For this moment, everything was peaceful.

Even Morpheus couldn’t find fault in it. Not when his head rested on your chest, and you were carding through his hair to the base of his neck. Your nails gently dragging down his scalp to the ends of his strands would’ve made him shiver if he were human.

You’ve been like this for some time now, relaxing in each other's arms. It was a rare moment for the Dream King. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. Though, it’d been happening more frequently since he’d met you.

When he’s working, his mind often wondered to you, what you were doing, when he would see you, it’d become ever the distraction—be it a welcomed one.

He hummed as your nails traced his neck, and you giggled lightly. He squeezed your side in return.

Never had he thought he’d let anyone see him like this, not after all those years in that cage. But there was something in you that called him. He could let his guard down around you. And it was easier than he thought.

You opened your arms to him and all he had to do was step closer.

You placed a kiss on the top of his head, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Have I put the Sandman to sleep?” you teased.

He answered with his eyes closed. “You are the only creature capable of such a feat.”

“You deserve some rest.” He could hear your smile, but there was seriousness, too. It made him lift to his elbow to look at you.

You stared at one another a few moments until you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Your thumb grazed his skin reverently, seemingly amazed that he was before you now.

The corner of your lips ticked up as you took him in. This otherworldly being that wasn’t really a being at all. He was too perfect. It only made sense that he was a concept, one that provided all with the ability to escape, to wrap themselves in imagination, to set themselves free.

“My Dream,” you whispered, almost like you hadn’t meant to.

His eyes softened. His own hand reached up to caress your hair.

“My heart.”

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months

Text

Dream a Little Dream

Pairings: Dream of the Endless x wife!Reader Word Count: 1.9k words Kink: Sleep/Morning Sex Warnings: NSFW, so vanilla, fingering, p in v, so many pet names you'll explode, nothing else really... A/N: I am already....so behind. The next few prompts may end up being really short like this one, as I have nothing prepared as of now. So I'll either write short stuff for a while or hold off on posting for a day or two until I can catch up again. Sorry, guys. Thanks!

The groggy pull of waking sticks to your skin like sap. You pull your heavy eyelids open and moan lazily as you bring your hand to rest upon the one heavy on your side. You intertwine your hand with pale fingers, moving closer to the being already holding you close as the flutter haze of the morning soaks into you.

With a lazy murmur, the deep voice of your husband fills your ears. "Good morning, my darling." His words glue together like licorice that had been melded in the heat.

"Good morning," you mumble.

Morpheus shifts forward until his entire body is pressed flat against yours. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the back of your shoulder, and his lips follow as he presses them into your skin. "How are you?"

You take in a long, deep breath, shutting your eyes again on a hum. "Sleepy." He chuckles lightly. "But I had a wonderful dream."

Morpheus smiles slowly. "My love, this is a dream."

You hum again, amused as you chuckle a little as well. "Well, then, I had a wonderful evening."

Visions of the evening flash behind your eyes, vivid images of flesh and fingers and lips. So much skin against smooth skin, lips on plush lips, eyes on gazing eyes. Your heart swells at the memory, as does his.

You sigh longingly, your eyes still closed as you relish in the softness of the pillow under your cheek and the warmth of his body against yours. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you speak, supporting your claim that: "I would love to repeat it but…I am much too tired."

Morpheus hums. "I would not take your sleep, but I shall take the work, if you wish."

Working your arm under your pillow and sinking further into the softness, you moan mildly as your drowsiness dares to pull you deeper into your sleep. "I would like that very much," you nearly whisper, holding his hand fondly.

Morpheus smiles warmly, pressing his lips to your shoulder once more and offering even more tenderness as he grants you more to your neck. You relish in his affection.

"Lay back, my love, and let me serve you." His voice echoes in your mind, and you mumble your response back to him as a sudden drowsiness holds you in its arms.

You whine meekly when he pulls his hand from yours in favor of roaming it over your body, smoothing his palm against your skin and teasing you with his long, slender fingers. His other hand snakes under your body and wraps around your chest, his fingers rolling your nipple between them and savoring your tiny moans. His touch remains gentle and slow as his other hand smooths along your waist and dips lower to tease your inner thigh.

You feel his fingers brush your folds, and your lips part as he parts your own and dips his finger inside of you. You take in a slow, deep breath, sighing on a tiny whimper. "Morpheus…" you mutter.

"Shh, my love." He presses his finger deeper, deeper. His voice washes over you like warm honey and velvet. "Just close your eyes and breathe and feel."

His voice eases you into that fluttering world between consciousness and unconsciousness. His finger sends goosebumps along your flesh, and your lips part as you feel the tiny sparks of pleasure dot your skin. He adds a finger, working them in a gentle thrust to coax the arousal from you.

He curls his fingers inside of you, a steady pace keeping you on the cusp of sleep while also delivering to you the pleasure you deserve. You moan lightly, and Morpheus’ voice finds you once more. “Let me love you,” he says. “Let me give to you what you wish, my darling.”

You mewl at his words, whining as you grind your hips back into him, though you’re not sure you moved much. You feel him growing hard against your thigh as he pulls you closer and continues to caress your breasts in his large hand. You whisper his name under your breath, clenching around his fingers as he presses them deep inside of you and curls them to massage that sweet spot inside of you that makes you gasp.

The room remains otherwise silent, save for your quiet sighs and whimpers, as he fingers you in your half-sleep. When you feel a knot building in your belly, you shift your hips back against your husband in a sudden search for relief.

His power over you, especially here as you dream with him now, is magnificent. He whispers in your ear, "Let go. Give yourself to me, my love." With a gasp and a shudder, you do exactly as he says. You grind your hips back against him as you let his power wash over you and take control.

He's thorough in making sure your pleasure lasts as long as it can, thrusting his fingers steadily into you, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a consistent circle to keep you wound and ready. And he speaks you through it with his soothing voice, gentle motivations and praises of, "That's it, my beautiful wife. You're doing so well…"

When you've properly come down, his voice comes again. "Would you like more, my dear?"

And you nod, your face still nestled in your pillow as your body settles even deeper into your dream-state. "Yes," you mumble, "please."

Morpheus smiles at his influence over you, holding you tighter as he entwines your bodies to wrap the both of you together. He spreads your thighs apart just enough to spread you open, taking himself in his hand and positioning himself at your fluttering folds.

"Are you ready, my sweetling?" he asks gently, kissing your neck tenderly. You nod again, humming as much of a yes as you could. With another kiss to your shoulder, he complies and begins to push himself inside of you, sheathing his cock into your warmth as a content sigh slips from the both of you.

"You feel magnificent, my darling," he says, pet name after pet name kissing your soul like a healing medicine.

He rocks his hips gently back and forth, his gentle thrusts filling you with his love without disturbing your sleepiness. It's a strange kind of feeling, to be so close to the edge of dreaming within dream but to feel so much pleasure keeping you just conscious enough to feel it almost tenfold. You clench around him as the drag of his cock massages the deepest part of you.

His name falls off your lips, almost like a prayer as he pleasures you on his own terms. Morpheus' eyes are shut and his hands are soothing over your body so slowly. He's lost in his own kind of ecstasy, his body tingling with the lust teeming within your own body.

You whimper again, moaning lightly and your bodies move together in a gentle, perfectly synchronized harmony. "M'love," you sigh. "So good."

He shushes you gently, sighing against your skin and kissing your shoulder once more. "Listen to my voice," he says, pulling you in with his compelling peace. His heart is so full with his love for you, you both lose yourself in it. "You are beautiful, my dear. You are radiant, you are lovely, and you are mine. I love you more than the stars could ever say."

You smile gently at his words, falling in love with him all over again as he rocks his hips in a steady motion with yours. You can't help but to grind your hips back against him, however lazy it is as your body seeks him out. "Oh, my love, you are perfect."

His skilled fingers find your clit once more, and he begins a steady pace over it. Your body shudders at the sensitivity, quickly giving in to his touch and letting his praise sink into your skin.

"Dream," you whimper. "'M so close."

"I know, my darling, I can feel it." His thrusts remain, taking the work in stride as he continues to give you what you need. "I can feel the way you tighten around me. I can hear your little breaths, feel the bumps on your skin…"

You whimper again, a little louder this time. The ecstasy is coursing through your veins, and you're so close to the edge of it all. "Please," you mutter.

He can't help the way his pace on your clit speeds up just a fraction, his grinding hips going a little deeper. He's always given you what you want, weak against your pleas and wanting nothing more than to make you happy.

"You are everything to me, my sweet heart," he sighs, his breath becoming more shallow with his own oncoming release.

It isn't long before the combination of his praise and his hips and fingers mix together and make you cum; a deep gasp filling your lungs, a helpless whine delving into little moans muffled in the expanse of your pillow, your thighs trembling with pleasure and still seeking more. "Mmm, Dream– Ah!"

Morpheus follows after, especially when you moan his name so prettily. How could he resist? He fills you to the brim with his love for you, a deep moan of his own slipping from his throat as he holds you closer as thrusts his hips into you through your orgasm. The power he continues to hold seeps into your flesh and bone and have you cumming so long, your entire body has no choice but to relish in the shuttering feeling as you continue to mewl and moan. Morpheus' hands on your skin and his lips kissing lovingly at your neck and shoulder make you weak.

Time stretches on as you slowly float down to the bed with a body heavy as a potato sack. You're so sleepy now, even more than before as the aftershocks of your pleasure still occasionally rattle through your body. Morpheus is right there to soothe your laziness. "You did beautifully, my love," he says, reluctantly pulling out of your warmth and admiring just how messy the both of you had become. "Do you feel better?"

If he wasn't in such perfect tune with your body, he would have missed the way you nodded. "Perfect…" you mutter.

He smiles. After a moment, you muster the strength to turn over onto your other side so you are facing your husband. You needn't open your eyes, you needn't say a word. You just turn yourself in his arms and press your body even closer to his own as he envelops your wordlessly into his embrace. He holds you as you silently praise him and his love for you.

He can tell you're about to sink into an even deeper sleep, the dream you're in being left behind for another (possibly even fonder) one—perhaps even one you could manage to open your heavy eyes in. Just as you're slipping away, his knuckles brushing your skin and his eyes watching your face, you mumble under your breath, "Love you…s'much."

He smiles fondly, a warm smile that would have made you cry, had you see it. He kisses your forehead and then gives into his desires to kiss your sweet lips, overjoyed when you manage to kiss him back. "I love you, too, my darling."

You both slip off together to meet again in a deeper realm of dreaming.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren24988 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr Tag yourself here...

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undiscovered-horizon · 4 months

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Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Fed up with Dream's stubborn and at times childish attitude, you leave Dreaming. But when Morpheus's sorrow makes itself known, Matthew has to fetch you before the kingdom completely floods.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It’s a tumultuous morning in the Dreaming. Even if none of the dreams and nightmares are privy to the ongoing feud, they know something is wrong. It’s as though the air in the kingdom, the marrow of their bones, turned bitter last night. Their skin is crawling but the sun is shining as it did yesterday. They birds chirp the same song they had throughout centuries. And yet, against their better judgment, something is terribly out of place.

To be honest, you don’t even remember how all of this started but the damage is already done.

A frustrated scream ripples through your chest, "The world doesn't revolve around you!" You're fuming. There's only so much patience one person can hold and recently, Morpheus had proven himself exceptional at trying to reach its limit until he, unfortunately, succeeded today. "For someone who's supposed to know every thought ever entertained, you sure can not look past the tip of your own nose."

His eyes, cold and hurt, stare at you in utter confusion. Dark eyebrows furrow. "I do not know what you're expecting of me,” he states in an angry voice. It appears that he really does not understand the reason for your outrage. "I am not human, I am unable to look at the world as you do."

Of course he says that, you think to yourself. It seems to be his favorite line of defense. Dream of the Endless is a strange, eldritch creature. He doesn’t comprehend the world like a mortal does and, or some reason, he treats this fact of nature as an excuse not to try. At first, you thought it charming - to see the universe through the eyes of a creature you can barely begin to understand. Who wouldn’t? The strange wonder of the man in front of you made you seek his company again and again. Truthfully, there’s something poetic about it: the reason you’ve come back to him so many times might be the very reason you bid him farewell. For good.

"Good news, then: you don't need a cardiovascular system to exercise empathy.” Your sarcastic tone has an effect on Morpheus. He frowns, hurt by your words, only to grow angry that he’s so affected. Dream’s pride makes him want to not be influenced by your bitterness. Alas, he cares more than he’s willing to admit. "Not everything is about you, Morpheus, and until you realize that, I don't think we've got more to talk about. Goodbye."

Even after you shut the door behind you, the word echoes through the castle. The stone walls seem to whisper it back to Morpheus, rubbing the salt in his wound. How strange it is - to be haunted by somebody still alive. To be the king of dreams and feel hopeless. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to be unmade.

A thunder rolls. A blue lightning splits the sky in two. Despite the lovely weather in the morning, it starts to rain in the Dreaming.

The storm doesn’t stop after a few hours nor does it cease after a few days. Black clouds cover the sky as they did four days ago. The only change is in the water level: the kingdom is flooded. When everyone thought the rain is bound to stop soon, no one minded much the rising tide. However, when the situation only worsened with no evidence that it’s going to improve in the near future, worried voices started to reach Lucienne. If the storm doesn’t cease in the next day or two, some parts of the Dreaming will share the fate of Atlantis.

If Morpheus knew he was being observed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel up for another confrontation. In any event, he remains still, standing against the balcony reiling, as his friends begin plotting:

"How is he?" Matthew whispers to Lucienne. "Has he moved from there at all? Ate something? Said anything?"

"That's three 'no's, I'm afraid,” she answers slowly. The librarian lets out a heavy sigh. "He's just dramatically standing there, wallowing in pity."

Dream really is 'just standing there’. Drenched. His hair and clothes are stuck to his pasty skin. It can’t be comfortable but it would appear that matters other than cosiness are on his mind at the moment. For the past few days, ever since you left, he hasn’t moved even a quarter of an inch. Truthfully, he looks about as alive as a marble statue, if monuments could appear excruciatingly miserable.

"Should we do something?" The raven continues. What he really wants to ask is 'What should we do?’ but Lucienne seems to catch the undertone of his words nonetheless.

"You could ask her to come back but no guarantee she'll want to,” she thinks out loud. "They've fought before but this time she looked really defeated."

Morpheus, although doesn’t need to breathe, sighs loudly. As he exhales, another lightning tears the sky apart.

"Alright, I'll try to convince her to talk to him again,” Matthew states. His worried voice makes him sound determined to have the two of you reconcile. "Hopefully, we'll be back before you need a canoe."

Lucienne doesn’t respond. As much as she doesn’t want to admit to her pessimism, she knows better than to have much hope in the matter of Dream’s love life.

Repetitive tapping on the window diverts your attention from the dishes you were washing. Seeing the black bird sitting on the outside windowsill, you quickly wipe your hands against the dishrag and jog to open the window.

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

He wastes no time pleading his case in a plaintive tone. "You gotta go back to him. Everything's gone to shit."

You furrow your eyebrows. Leaning against the wall, you cross your arms on your chest. "What do you mean?"

The raven hops closer to you. "It's been pouring nonstop since you left. He's just standing there, soaking wet and he won't talk to anyone."

It might sound sadistic but it’s a nice thought that he’s grieving your departure so severely. For what it’s worth, it means he’s not as blase as he likes to appear. Perhaps, Morpheus cares about you more than you’re even aware of.

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

"How bad?!" Matthew screeches. "The House of Mysteries is so flooded, Abel is fishing."

It sounds like 'bad' is nothing more than an elegant euphemism. In his heartache, Morpheus is willing to let Dreaming decay and fall into partial ruin. If your accusation had been correct and Dream of the Endless truly is unable to care about anyone but himself, such a disaster would never have happened. A selfish ruler wouldn’t let his realm turn to rubble because of a broken heart. And if you’re more important than what he calls home, then…

"I'm assuming that's not a usual feature,” you give the raven a half-hearted response. The thoughts inside your head are in a painful turmoil, trying to lift the truth out of the indications.

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

Matthew glares at you in anticipation. Perplexed, you rub your arm without thinking much about it. Right, it's the mature and responsible thing to do but at the same time, why do you have to be the one to cave in every time you two fall out? If Morpheus cares for you as much as his dramatic show of pain and grief would suggest, shouldn’t it be him travelling across world and realms to reach you?

The raven cocks his head. Something about the look in his eyes changes as though his frustration has faded away or grown into desperation if not powerlessness. He’s tired and out of options.

"Alright, let's go," you say with a sigh. "But no promises. I still have pride and self-respect and he's still a stubborn..." you take a deep breath, "nevermind. Let's just go."

Miserable.

That's the only word that comes to your mind as you stare at him from afar. One would think that an entity of his sort can not be or look miserable but maybe this world is even stranger than you've thought. His clothes are drenched to the point of being see-through. Dark, once-tussled hair is now stuck to his face and neck. Dream's body looks even more stringy as his head is hanging low between his shoulders.

The rain is almost deafening. Your cautious, hesitant footsteps shouldn't be audible and yet Morpheus turns around to look at you when you come closer.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says in a low, groggy voice. Dream's eyes, once blue and cold, are now red and unsettlingly vacant. Has he been crying? "What do you want?"

You take a deep breath. It was vain to expect him to welcome you with open arms. An eldritch being with a bruised ego and a broken heart could never make for a hospitable host. Even to those whom he misses the most.

"I still stand by what I said, it's just..." you hang your voice for a moment to find the proper words. Seeing him so broken by your fight makes some part of you want to renounce everything that lead to your argument. Anything just for him to be alright again. But the more reasonable side of you knows that such an action would only hurt both of you in the long run. "I admit, I could have said it in a more civilized way. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that harshness."

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

Whether he's doing it consciously or not, the rainstorm ceases. Black clouds slowly drift away to uncover a clear, blue sky. Somewhere in the West, if there are cardinal directions in Dreaming, the sun is beginning to set. Despite the significant improvement, the air remains cold. A harsh wind nips at your drenched form. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of the weather, you put your arms around your torso. Still, your body trembles.

"Perhaps I should have put more effort into understanding your concern. I'm..." he turns silent for a second. His lips are apart but no sound is coming out of his mouth. Dream's hurt gaze meets yours. "Sorry," he whispers finally. Despite his voice being hardly audible, the weight of his confession is almost deafening.

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

Those sad blue eyes stare at you in anticipation. The misery on his face makes you think that he's expecting to have his heart broken again, instead of mended.

A couple of grey clouds reappear above your heads. Oh no.

"I'm tired of always being the one to reach out," you confess. His gaze is too intense and you quickly look away from him. There's much on his mind. "No matter who's right or wrong, it's me who bridges the gap between us. Even if that angers me, I still do it. Every time. And I don't know what that says about me."

Your body trembles again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by Morpheus. He, quite literally, pulls a coat out of thin air. Dream's movements are almost fearful as he cautiously places the garment around your shoulders.

"Perhaps in certain aspects, you are better than me," he answers quietly while fixing the coat to fit you better.

You know you're pushing your luck when you look at him again and ask a not-so-innocent question:

"You mean a 'better person'?"

"I'm not-" He bites his tongue just in time. Morpheus is not a person. Both of you are perfectly aware of it. But it was the mention of this very fact that had brought such disastrous rain to Dreaming. "Yes. A better person."

There's not much conviction in his words but there is, however, a silent promise to find it.

______

Now that I’m in mourning, I thought it fitting to finish reading "Brief Lives" and the bittersweetness of it felt all the more pronounced. Reading it prompted me to rewatch the show and long story short I’m kind of back in my Sandman feels.

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myoddessy · 2 years

Text

MIRRORBALL | dream of the endless

pairing: dream of the endless x goddess of love!reader

summary: you went by many names. cupid, aphrodite, venus, freyja, some simply called you what you were, love. but, to morpheus, you needed no name other than his, and in the dim light of a ballroom, he admires your glow.

notes: morpheus + taylor swift = my happiness, even if most of it is sad. you're safe with this one, though 💞 agápi means love in greek, it's only used once but you can pry the thought of fiddlers green using greek words as terms of endearment for those he truly cares about from my cold dead hands.

warnings: no show/comic spoilers!!, angst (mild), fluff, they're so in love it's sickening, fiddlers green is my fav and you can tell.

word count: 1.7k

the playlist.

"are you alright, dear love?" fiddlers green questioned, pulling you from your stupor as you ran your finger across a daisy's petal.

"yes, as always. why do you ask?"

"well, and please forgive me for being frank, you seem somewhat reserved today. you are usually full of stories after blessing day, and you've been silent since you've joined me." you wished to deny it, but he was right.

blessing day, what mortals called valentine's, was your busiest dawn. be it weddings, proposals, births, confessions, or simple matchmaking, almost every mortal across the waking world had some form of request for you. and, just as fiddlers green had said, most years you were bursting at the seams with adoring anecdotes.

you told him of every arrow you'd strung, every vow you'd guided, every first kiss you'd officiated, and he listened gladly. besides, there's not much he could do to stop you from talking.

what was different this year, however, was their thanks for your gifts, or, in this case, lack thereof.

you were all too aware of the fact that mortals did not rely on you, and you were far more dependent on their faith than they were on your blessings, but the mere whisper of a 'thank you, cupid' was enough to tide you over. but this year, there was nothing. they took your heart and cracked it open, passing the spoils of your gifts around.

you were too fond of them to be vengeful, empathy bleeding into the resentment until you forced yourself to forgive and move to the next thankless blessing.

"i suppose i just feel like i didn't help enough people today." you toyed with your fingers with the nervousness of a child in trouble.

for the first time in centuries, fiddlers green scoffed at you. "i am absolutely certain that that is not the case, my dear. i can guarantee that when the waking world rests, i will see countless of romantics pass by, all because of you."

you smiled at his praise, and in the way the trees swayed, you could sense his pride in lifting your spirits. you took a deep breath and lay down, blades of grass tickling your face. "am i naive?"

"i'm not entirely sure what you mean."

your brows knitted together in stress. "have mortals always been selfish and i've been too blinded by their beauty to realise it?"

"ah," he began in realisation, "i take it thanks were few and far between this year?"

"i dont mean to sound spoiled or gluttonous, but i give them so much. all i wish for is some sort of acknowledgment before i'm pulled in all directions by those in need of a blessing."

"i do not think that mortals are inherently selfish, and i do not think that you are either. what i do believe that mortals are, is close-minded and excitable. you give them so much joy that they struggle to process it, hence your artists and poets who channel your inspiration into a vessel to carry your gifts." his voice was gentle, as if he were speaking to an injured fawn, and you relished in the comfort of his consoling. "you work yourself too hard, agápi. the guilt of failing to achieve the unachievable is far too much for anyone to carry, especially someone as reliant on emotions as you are."

"i feel like i'm invisible to them when they don't want something." your throat tightened and tears gathered by your waterline. "i fear that soon, i'll run out of love to give them."

fiddlers green swore that, in that moment, he could feel the tender scales of your heart tip ever-so-slightly towards the coldness that came with being callous. he knew you were a fragile being. not weak, never weak. he had seen the power your gifts granted every realm and the effects that withdrawals of your grace had on now-tarnished lands. but fragile in the sense that an antique vase of the finest china was fragile. it was beautiful and glorious, but if it was handled too harshly, it would fall to the ground and shatter into a million shards.

as the embodiment of love itself, you were blessed with an open mind, but cursed with a bleeding heart. you felt everything for everyone tenfold. if a mortal wept, you cried for them. if a faerie giggled, you laughed alongside them. you carried the burden of enough love to bring light to hell and were forced to spread it across worlds, lest it grow too much to handle and your porcelain face cracked.

before he could respond, he sensed a new presence enter, and heard a voice to match it soon after. "my love?"

you hastily wiped away a few stray tears before standing and spinning to face your lover. "my dream." you sighed happily, a smile of sheer elation growing at the mere sight of him. he stepped towards you and took your hand in his. with a kiss to his cheek, you felt the rock in your chest lighten.

you were beautiful. this, morpheus knew. in fact, everyone knew that. it was plain to see in the statues and sketches and sonnets and songs created in admiration of you and as odes to your honour that morpheus was far from alone in his infatuation with you. but instead of feeling jealous and attempting to steal you away from the twinkling eyes of the masses, he was more than willing to fall to his knees alongside them as your unwavering devotee.

your hand rested intertwined in his as the golden hour light bounced off your face and made morpheus' breath hitch, not even attempting to hide his blatant staring.

"how was your day?" morpheus had a putrid hate for small talk, but blessing day was full of stories, and he'd give anything to revel in your voice.

"awful."

oh.

he stopped in his tracks, hand still wrapped around yours, even tighter now. his jaw was set in concern and his face was taught. "who has upset you?" he stood closer to you, free hand cupping your face.

"the waking world, but i find now that it's hardly their fault." you tugged on his hand and continued walking, practically dragging morpheus in tow. "they are not to blame for their purpose. they are vessels of love and life, my duty is to fulfil and guide them. their lives are improved by me, my life depends on doing what they need."

with your words hanging tensely in the air, morpheus swore that he knew your feeling of a bleeding heart. for when yours ached, his stopped completely, and he would damn the waking world if it meant your smile would reach your eyes again.

"but what is it you wish to do, my love?" his hand held your gently, as if he were afraid you'd shatter with the confrontation of not conforming to someone else's wishes.

centuries of morpheus by your side flashed before your eyes. picnics in lavish renaissance fields, archery ranges by nomadic campsites, feasts in royal courts. but one distinct setting stood out in the forefront of your mind. your heads bowed, a kiss pressed to the back of your palm, a brilliant ball gown, and dancing.

"i wish to dance."

he smiled, a half-turned quirk of his lip that danced with amusement that almost screamed that he knew that's what you would say. "then dance you shall."

you felt the soft gust of sand sweeping around you both, and by the time it settled, a laugh of pure elation escaped you.

weighed down more than before by your gown. a milky-white bodice with delicate intricacies of golden lace, butterfly sleeves barren, bar the gold hem that lay flat against your skin when you moved your arm to marvel at it. a corset of similar design resting at a comfortable tightness and adding extra flair to the full circle skirt. morpheus watched with a silent smile as you admired your dress, finding himself more focused on your beaming grin than the garment itself.

but far grander than your dress was the ballroom you found yourself in. the smallest tap of your shoes resounded through the high arching ceiling and bounced off the art-filled walls. marble pillars supported its weight, and a large crystalline chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, each fraction of light reflecting off of its surface and leaving minuscule rainbows on the walls in their wake.

you turned to morpheus with awe and gratitude written on your face, your breath hitching when you found him already staring at you with more adoration than you'd seen in a thousand mortal valentine's days. he stepped closer to you, took your hand in his, bowed slightly, and with a cheeky glint in his eye asked, "may i have this dance?"

with a laugh, you too curtseyed, agreeing with a simple, "why, yes, kind sir, you may."

and all at once, you heard it. soft piano paired with violin as morpheus led you in a dance you'd walked through hundreds, if not thousands, of times before.

but this night, this dance, seemed different. they way morpheus looked at you, the way he held you, made your power grow and your chest swell. you could feel the love he had for you, and it was borderline overwhelming. a mere minute of his presence, of what he felt for you, was enough to tear the pieces of your being from the ungrateful hand's of mortals and piece it back together with the utmost care.

so caught up in thoughts of him, and only him, you hardly realised you were still dancing until morpheus spoke again. "you're glowing."

"pardon?" your brows furrowed and you huffed a laugh.

his smile widened. "you're glowing." he repeated, happier than the last time. you looked down to where your hands met, and your eyes widened when you saw that you were, indeed, glowing.

it had happened only once before, during your wedding, and a roseate hue surrounded you for the full day. you assumed that it came from the fulfilment of being completely, hopelessly, and utterly in love. you looked to morpheus' eyes again and smiled. it made sense that you were glowing now, of all times.

"you truly are a wonder, my queen."

#morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfic #morpheus imagines #morpheus #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman imagine #the sandman x reader #fiddlers green #tom sturridge x reader #tom sturridge #neil gaiman

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alexander-arcturus-black-lupin · 4 months

Text

Morpheus confesses

Morpheus was in his throne room doing his best to fix the dreaming or at least that's what he told himself. In fact the dreaming had already been fixed; he was just busying himself from thinking.

About her.

His human.

The one thing that was out of his control.

She felt her heart racing as Morpheus moved his body against hers. His touch was gentle and passionate, a perfect mix of intensity and tenderness. He caressed her body, his hands exploring her curves as he moved in slow, sensuous circles. His touch sent electric shocks of pleasure through her body, igniting a spark of desire within her.

She moaned in pleasure as Morpheus's hands moved lower, exploring her most intimate of areas. He teased her with gentle strokes, his fingers tracing circles around her sweet spot. The pleasure built within her, and Y/N's breathing grew faster as Morpheus's touch intensified.

Suddenly it stopped. She was in bed, alone.

“What the absolute hell,” Y/n felt her thighs clench together, her breathing shallow and her legs felt numb.

“My apologies,” y/n’s neck snapped to find the dream lord at the door, closing it.

“What? I-”

“Ever since you came to the dreaming,” He paused as though weighing his words. “My powers have been a little out of my control,”

“Were you really here,” Was she really about to have sex with this man

“No, that was a shade or a dream figure if you will” he seemed to avoid her eyes as he spoke looking intently at the chair in the corner.

“But it was…”

“Real as a dream can be, yes” His replies were short and curt. Although there was a subtle blush on his cheeks. “You are in the dreaming of course, again i apologies, I-"

"Is that why you've been ignoring me," it seemed as though he didn’t count on your question as he looked over at you or well in your direction but his eyes weren’t on you, the moon lighting up a part of his face. He was ethereal in every light.

“Yes, it has.” You remained silent as he stood there. “Is that all of your questions,’ his voice soft and alluring.

“I um, if my presence had been affecting you, why am I still here?” His eyes left yours as he contemplated the question.

“I do not know,” He made no motion to sit down, he just stood there, “Do you wish to leave?”

“My answer depends on your comfort Morpheus, if you feel my presence is revolting-”

“But it is not,” He pauses again. “It’s like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with stale air,”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Morpheus glances at you and the light shade of pink on his face deepens

“Y/n, you are not decent,” you look in the mirror near your bed and you notice, your mess of hair, your nightgown, ridden up your thighs, the sheets a mess.

“I do look quite a mess bu-”

“It’s not that you don’t look a mess, it’s that fact I’m not the one who messed you up,” a small gasp escaped your mouth. “I’m not the one who’s made you clench your legs, I’m not the one who made you-” he stops. “It was rather a mere shade.”

“Morpheus,” you whisper out.

“Tell me to leave,” he says abruptly.

“What?”

“Tell me to leave, tell me to close the door on the way out,” Morpheus looks at the window. “Tell me you don’t want me to be here,” you don’t say anything as you get out of the bed. You don’t stop until you’re right in front of him.

“Morpheus, I want you to stay,” you move closer as Morpheus moved back a step.

“Starlight…” he hadn’t called her that in a long time. “I can’t”

“Why,”

“None of my past courtships have ever been successful, and I wish not to ruin what little we have,”

“Morpheus,” You reached up and place your hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat. “For an endless you’re heart beats rather quickly,’

“Starlight I-” Want to see where this goes? Want to know whether you can actually stay or not, want to know whether I want to kiss you or not

“Can I kiss you,” his voice is down to a whisper. “Please,”

“I’d like that,” One of his rare smiles peak throught and he kiss you, it’s soft and slow. His hands snaked your waist bringing you in closer and holding you steady.

“Can we do this for all eternity,”

“Yes”

#morpheus x you smut #morpheus x black reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus smut #morpheus #lord morpheus #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Text

Some soft Morpheus shit based on this post I saw earlier.

Try and tell me otherwise but his love language is gift giving and quality time. Morpheus has the means of giving you whatever your heart desired and he would give it to you without second thought as to the lord of dreams and nightmares whatever you wanted you should receive in abundance. So it’d be best if you tell him beforehand when it gets overwhelming seeing as even for someone as old as Morpheus he still worships the ground you walk on as if you were his deity.

Aa the post mentions, Morpheus is passionate and infatuated with everything you did that it no longer surprised you to catch himself strong at you from a distance with a far off look in his eyes that held glimpses of happiness and hope within him even if his face remained still like stone. Only you could easily read his micro expressions as though you both shared the same soul. From the way he lead you place, griping your hand tighter in his when walking through crowded areas as to avoid the chances of separation.

or how he’d instinctively place himself in front of you whenever the slightest hints of danger were to ever arise within his presence. Ready to protect you even when you may not have need for it. Even when he pressed his forehead against yours gingerly as if you were made from porcelain to when he’d press you flush against his chest, holding on tighter when you cried in relief for the first time since his sudden disappearance; Refusing to leave the dream realm when it was falling apart at the seems with Lucienne as a show of your eternal, undying loyalty to your dream lord and lover.

His hurt was your hurt and your hurt was his. Whatever one did the other was quick to offer aid, help or a shoulder to bear the burden alongside through troubled times. It was a testament that no matter what you always had each other even if you were realms apart. It was moments like this that reassured you that Morpheus’ feelings for you were unchanging as his eyes would only ever be on you, never moving, twinkling with pride as a missable smile graced his godly face.

If you were to ever be hurt, whether by paper cut, nicked with a sharp object or bruise from unknown origins, Morpheus would try to act unfazed by it but it was hard to see that when the moment you sharply gasp he’d be there within a matter of seconds, checking you over for your injuries with a protective yet worried gleam in his eye.

I think Morpheus is deeply scared of loosing you one day so he tries to give you a reason to stay by showering you with everything you could possibly need; which was completely pointless because you were in it for the long haul and were just as equally infatuated with him as he is with you it’s almost sickening as it was sweet.

Morpheus could never bring himself to doubt you and would instead doubt himself sometimes on whether or not he was an adequate partner whenever he was within the company of himself. He adored you too much for his own good and it proven to be his fatalist flaw, his achilles heel for better words which is why he tries to avoid topics where you’d be easily brought up in as a means of hiding his true weak spot by creating false illusions to others.

Your his dream come true, despite how cliche that sounded, but that’s how he felt with every waking moment he got to spend by your side, arms linked together as he’d watch you as you watched others with a glimmer in your eye that he only ever wished remained enteral. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he ever were to gift you a ruby necklace similar to his own, right down to embedding a portion of his power so that he’d be with you at all times. He’d had it intricately inlaid and shaped to a raven as you’d often tease him by asking the whereabouts of his feathered companion, Matthew.

You’d watch over the dream realm together from his palace, your head resting on his shoulder as his hand laid gently upon your side. No words were spoken as the comfort of being within one another’s presence transcended the need for verbal communication as within each others care you knew you were safe and immensely loved. Just as you deserved.

Taglist: @mess-in-side

#morpheus x reader #Morpheus imagines #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfic #Morpheus fic #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x you #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman x reader

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madwomansapologist · 8 months

Note

Hi! Wanted to say that your writing style is so nice and it feels so mushy when I read them. I'm truly amazed, where do you gen an inspiration to write?

Can I please request Morpheus x reader, who picks on their skin? I've always had this stupid habit and in result fingers (and sometimes face) are always in pain or bleeding. And usually you're not notice it until someone points it out for you and things become awkward. 💀 (Also I'm so sorry to bother if your requests are closed, I checked but maybe accidentally skipped it)

It's okay if this may be weird or specific and you don't want to do it, I'm still grateful for your writings. Have a nice day!

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

synopsis: Restoring the long-forgotten library of Morpheus's realm, your last concern was what your hands were doing. Concentrated on reorganizing and looking for signs of lost dreams and nightmares, it was Morpheus who noticed a old habit of yours.

warnings: none.

ps: omg. you're literally the best. thank you for that! well mostly of my inspiration comes from things that i personally believe. you know that "write about what you know" advice? i prefer it worded as a "write about what you feel." like the last thing i wrote for Morpheus. it was a request about pregnancy, and I could just write about it, but it didn't really talked to me. but perceiving death and deciding that fuck that, the memories of my family will keep me alive—that talk to me. so mostly i guess is just that Neil Gaiman writing advice: don't be afraid of telling the truth. he said that all books are lies told by people that can put truth in them. i guess i live by that. sorry for the rant, but i'm so passionate about it. either way, hope you like this! my requests weren't close by the time you ask for it (sorry for the long wait, i was working on the birthday event), there is no need to apologize! have a great day, dear! 💙🪩

• The library wasn't going to restore itself. At least, you don't think it can. Doing whatever Lucienne told you to, it was only natural for you to focus on trying to make this realm reach its glory again. You didn't have time for anything else.

• Cain and Able were surprisely helpful with your task. The brothers may not be exactly healthy with one another, but they know a lot about this place you know so little. With their knowledge and ease of sharing it, you were closer and closer to finally find Brute and Glob.

• By the time you were back with Lucienne, you both had so much to do. It was so easy to forget about anything else. To have a break, to eat something, to sleep for a few hours. So many things to do, so much to repair, that all you could was to focus on your work. Not even an old habit of yours could have won your attention.

• You were picking on your skin. It always surprises you when you noticed, simply because you don't do this on purpose. It is just a thing that happens. Most of the times, you don't noticed until it starts to hurt or bleed. And this time, none of that happened.

• Dive into work, and with Lucienne also worrying about the realm, no one was really paying attention to your skin. Your hands picked and pushed, but with no great amount of pain to warn you about it, you just didn't noticed.

• You both heard when Morpheus entered the library. After one of his many quests to find his tools, it was a surprise that he would come back so early. Or was it late? You can't really tell how time works here.

• When you welcomed him, it took mere seconds for Morpheus' expression to change from tiredness to concern. He walked straight towards you, his hands grabbed your face with care and affection, and asked you what hurted you.

• You undertood quickly what happened. You explained to him, the awkward situation making you more and more embarrassed with every couple of words, feeling suddenly so out of place. But when Morpheus was sure that nothing had inflicted pain on you, his softness made impossible for you to remain embarrassed.

• Morpheus silenced you with sweet kisses. His lips roamed through your face, his feelings penetreting your skin. He kissed you whole before looking at you again. And the way he looked at you, the way Morpheus always look at you, made you feel so... so...

• Wide.

• In front of Morpheus, in between his hands, you feel infinite. Morpheus always finds a way to make you feel like that.

• Morpheus may not be the best person to pick on social clues, but he can read you. When you care about someone in the way he cares about you, it's easy to learn about the person of interest. Morpheus was able to understand that this habit was just another facade of you, and he would never made you feel bad about it.

• Of course Morpheus would pretty much rather you not hurting yourself in anyway, but he would never made you feel bad about it. If he ever notice you doing it again, Morpheus would just grab you hand and kiss it. It's not like being gentle with you was difficult.

• And if you ever pick your skin until it bleed, Morpheus have no problem with helping you to clean it. Morpheus can take care of you, just like you took care of him so many times before. He's just being fair.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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aralezinspace · 1 year

Text

Send Me to Sleep

Requested by anonymous: fluff with insomniac reader and the prompt "why are you still up?"

A/N: Here have some tooth rotting fluff, I am not responsible for your dental bills xD fun fact, the thing Dream does to help reader sleep is the same thing I do to get my tiny humans to go to sleep, made this slightly bittersweet to write b/c after next Friday I won't be working with tiny kids anymore i'll be working with college age kids ANYWAY hope you enjoy!! 💖💖

~~Requests are open!~~ ~~Current WIPs~~

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was almost as if the ticking of your antique alarm clock was mocking you, loudly reminding you of every passing second you spent awake when you should be dead to the world.

Your insomnia was nothing new, it had plagued you since college. It was conditional on your stress levels, which was somewhat ironic: the more stressed you were, the less you slept. The less you slept, the more stressed you became.

Since figuring out that pattern your senior year, you had done everything you could to keep your daily life stress free enough for you to sleep, and it had been working out for the most part, aside from busy times of the year when work, family, and friends all collided in a few hectic weeks. Times of the year like Christmas, the height of summer, and for some reason, the entire month of April.

This week was not supposed to be one of them.

You stuffed your face into your pillow to muffle your frustrated scream. It was now going on 3:30am, and you had to be up and getting in the shower at 6. You sat up with a heavy sigh and ran your fingers through your hair. Sleep was obviously not coming tonight, so you decided to get some chores done around your apartment.

Under the hot spray of the shower two and a half hours later, you groaned as you felt the heaviness behind your eyes that indicated your body was ready for sleep. Of course it had to happen when you were getting ready for yet another busy day at work… which would probably stress you out to the point where you wouldn’t be able to sleep, or your body would just shut down out of sheer desperation.

“Ugh, Dream’s gonna kill me,” you grumbled into your towel. “Well it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.”

If anyone else had been this invested in your sleep schedule, it would have been extremely weird. But the fact that it was your partner, the ruler of the Dreaming and Nightmare realms. Sleeping was kind of his thing, and once again the irony was not lost on you: a conditional insomniac, in love with the literal sandman.

Your day was just one thing after another, mostly phone calls. More than the usual volume at work, then a call from your dad, then another one from your aunt for some reason, then one from your brother that you sent straight to voicemail just to have a break. Future you thanked past you for that, turns out he just wanted to once again complain about his boyfriend.

When you got home, your mind was fuzzy with exhaustion, and your body jittered and shook from the after effects of the four cups of coffee required just to get through it all. You felt like crap, and probably looked like crap too.

You shambled through changing into your pajamas and making dinner, barely tasting the food as you chewed. You barely registered what episode you were on, thankfully it was a show you had seen before. Your “bedtime” wasn’t for another two hours; you were ready to drop, but fucking up your sleep schedule even more was a recipe for disaster.

You dragged your hands down your face and groused, “Ugh fuck me.”

“With pleasure.”

The rumbling chortle came from the shadows by your front door, making you spring to your feet. The rush of adrenaline rendered you wide awake, at least long enough to process who was currently standing in your apartment.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Dream of the Endless strode into the light of your living room, hands in the pockets of his signature coat. It slowly dropped from his face as he took in more of your appearance: the blue, almost black bags under your eyes, the pallor of your skin, the slump of your body as if the immense burden of his responsibilities rested on your shoulders.

“My love,” he pressed, almost like a parent trying to get the truth of some mischief out of a child, “It has been some days since I have felt you in the Dreaming for longer than a few moments. Have you not been sleeping again?”

The way your entire body sagged in defeat was all the answer he needed.

He stepped closer to you, gently resting his hands on your shoulders. “Darling, when was the last time you had a good night’s rest?” You shrugged, your brain struggling to come up with an answer that you were allowed to give. Once again, your body language gave him the answer.

“Then why are you still up?” He didn’t sound angry, only deeply concerned. “Why did you not call for me?”

You swallowed hard before mumbling, “I didn’t want to bother you.” A heavy sigh pushed itself out of Dream’s chest and his hands moved to hold your face in his hands, taking the weight of your head off your shoulders. “Beloved, you are never a bother to me. “I would not be a worthy monarch of the Dreaming if I could not even ease my own partner to rest.”

You couldn’t help your chuckle; it was the closest you had ever heard Morpheus come to humility. Your smile brought a tiny mirror of the gesture to Dream’s face as he rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone, trying not to focus on the deep shadows beneath your eyes. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips lingered as he inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in your essence. It stuck in his nose, tainted by your exhaustion. He breathed his words into your skin, “Let’s get you into bed.”

Swift like quicksilver, he scooped you into his arms, drawing a startled squeak out of you, closely followed by a bashful giggle. Dream carried you to your bedroom, staring lovingly at you the entire time. Your bed was still unmade from this morning, and he gently deposited you in it before pulling the blankets over you.

You snuggled into the covers, drawing them up to your chin. You smiled at Dream as he sat next to you on top of the covers. Cool fingers brushed your hair out of your face. You murmured, “Gonna use your sand to send me off?”

Dream chuckled, soft and low and slightly smug. “No, I will not need it to get you to sleep. I need only do this.” His forefinger settled between your eyebrows (some would say over your third eye) and gently rubbed the skin there. You hummed softly, wiggling deeper into the comfort of your bed. Dream’s eyes practically glowed in the darkness of your room, distant, even though he was sitting right beside you.

You were more than bone tired, and sank easily into his soothing touch. Your eyes flickered and fluttered for a moment before finally falling shut. Dream’s touch on your forehead was the only thing that existed in the blackness behind your eyelids, safe and comforting. You could practically feel the stress leaking out of you and into the mattress.

In your last moment of lucidity before you drifted off, you heard Dream murmur, “Sleep well, beloved. I will see you soon.”

#The Sandman #The Sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #Morpheus fanfic

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Note

hi :) hope you're doing good! can I request a morpheus x gender neutral reader where reader is feeling overwhelmed/stressed, hasn't slept properly in a while , so they haven't seen morpheus in a while and he's worried. he decides to go visit them, reassuring and comforting them until they sleep in their arms. thank you!! <3

Back to You

Dream of the Endless x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 727

Warnings- fluff, comfort, established relationship

Notes- Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like this! 💖

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog to follow and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

Morpheus was worried. It had been weeks since he’d seen you, and he knew it was unlike you.

It started as coincidence… or was it fate. You had made your way into the Dreaming… and Morpheus’ heart. Since the first night your paths crossed, he looked forward to seeing you every night, and what started as a companionship between two kindred souls soon blossomed into something more.

Every time Morpheus saw you was like the first time. His heart fluttered in his chest under the layers of black robes, and a hint of a smile lit up his face. He craved the warmth of holding you close, he craved the sight of your smile, he craved the way you hummed contently as he whispered soft sweet nothings in your ear until it was time for you to leave the Dreaming once more.

But it had been weeks since Morpheus saw your captivating eyes, your warm smile, your loving arms. And he was worried. So, he made the decision to leave the Dreaming and visit you in the real world… your world.

It was no trouble in finding your home. Being a supernatural being, Morpheus easily found you. But, it was also exactly the way you described it to him. From the doorway welcoming him into your world to the decor that you were so fond of, your home was just like that Morpheus pictured in his head. The only thing that did not fit the image was your slumped over form at your desk in the far corner of the room.

Morpheus breathed your name as he studied you with concern in his features. The light that illuminated your eyes and your aura was dimmed, and even from the distance Morpehus felt the weight that you carried in your heart. And when you jumped up with a gasp, he saw the puffiness under your eyes.

“Morpheus…” you sighed as you looked around the room in confusion, “Are… Are you really here? Or am I dreaming?”

He crossed the room and knelt so that he met your gaze as you sat in your chair, “I’m here my love,” his low voice brought a comfort as he cupped the side of your face with a feather-light touch, “I…” I was worried, “Are you alright?”

You lost yourself in Morpheus’ gaze for several moments before you looked over at the time. But the warmth of his touch soothed your restless mind, “I’m ok,” your voice was hushed, “I’ve just had a lot to deal with lately… I haven't been sleeping well.”

His brows furrowed, “Well we can’t have that now can we?” The quip in his voice was unexpected and it brought a genuine smile to your face, the first one in weeks, “Come, let me take care of you, my love.”

Fully trusting him, you let Morpheus take your hand and guide you to your feet and into your bedroom. Carefully, he stripped you of your outer layers of clothes to get you into bed, leaving the stresses of the day on the floor with your discarded clothing. Tenderly, Morpheus laid you onto your bed, and a wave of relief ran through him when you let out a contented sigh and fluttered your eyes shut.

He let out a mirroring breath as he chucked off his coat and laid down next to you. The whole world could wait; all Morpheus cared about was you. Besides, to him, you were his whole world. Morpheus wrapped his long arms around you and pulled you close so that you rested your head on his chest.

Morpheus held you close as he felt all the stress you held in your body melt away. It was as if by holding you tightly, he forced all the negativity out of you and all that was left was comfort and love. You were here, you were safe, you were ok. And you were his.

“Thank you, Morpheus,” you breathed as you nuzzled your head into him, “I lo…” you drifted off to sleep before you could finish your thought.

He smirked as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Sleep well, my love,” he whispered to your sleeping form, “I will see you in the Dreaming and you can tell me what you wanted to say,” Morpheus paused, “And I love you.”

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nocapesdahling · 2 years

Text

Call it Dreaming

Dream of the Endless x GN! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been stressed out lately and haven’t been sleeping as much as you should. Fortunately, Dream is here to make sure tonight is different.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Dream of the Endless; He’s very soft; Fluff; Comfort; Tired and Stressed! Reader; Established relationship; Hints of Dom!Dream; Implied sexual content; Dream’s eyeliner

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: To preface, I haven’t read the comics yet though I’m looking forward to it. I loved the show and really wanted to write some fluff with a soft Dream, so here we are. Hope you enjoy!

You’d had a long and stressful week, filled with inescapable deadlines, overtime, and sleepless nights. All you wanted to do when you got home that Friday evening was throw on some comfortable clothes and sleep.

You might finally get to see your absent lover, whose time had been taken up by his duties, in your dreams. It was an added bonus because while others’ busy partners might work long hours with little to no time to see them, your nights — your dreams — were filled with both passion and comfort. The limitations of the waking world didn’t apply to dreams, especially not to your Dream.

You opened your door with a sigh of relief and placed your bags in an out of the way corner. There would be no thinking about work this weekend, and you hoped that the saying would hold true – that out of sight would translate to out of mind. The last thing you needed was to dream about work. Not that Morpheus would allow that anyway.

You were just finishing your dinner when you heard a telltale “Caw”, which was followed by a knock on the door and then a second in quick succession. You smiled to yourself. There was only one person it could be. Well, being might be a more apt term in this case. After Morpheus had scared you by appearing suddenly in your bedroom too many times, you’d insisted he knock and he’d begun knocking twice in a specific rhythm to ensure you knew it was him.

Flashback:

“It makes me feel like I have a gentleman caller, you know?” Your voice was teasing in the hopes you could bring one of his small rare smiles, which flickered and warmed you like candlelight, out. Maybe even with teeth this time. You’d only seen that one a couple of times and you wanted to see more of it. More importantly, you wanted to see Morpheus – this improbable and unfathomable being that you’d somehow fallen in love with – happy. And he did smile though it was more of a mischievous smirk, his expression playful.

“I wouldn’t expect to see much of a gentleman tonight. Not with my plans for you, beloved.” His voice had deepened even more than usual, and you could feel it lingering in your ears and resonating down to your bones. As you pulled him into a kiss, there was no more talk of gentlemen callers that evening. In fact, there was no more talking at all.

But ever since, Morpheus had knocked to announce his presence without fail.

End Flashback

You smiled at yourself in the mirror to make sure there was nothing in your teeth before opening the door. “Hello, love. No Matthew tonight?”

At your gesture, he stepped inside and his velvety soft coat brushed against your legs – the stars swirled along the inside and looked for a moment as though their ever changing galaxy would transfer to you.

“He’s keeping watch.” Dream turned away from surveying the room, to see if there was anything new you supposed, and cupped your cheek. His hands were soothing in their coolness and his deep blue eyes, which were accentuated quite nicely by the eyeliner you’d bought him, were filled with concern as he surveyed your face. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

You closed the door and moved to sit on the couch, prolonging the time till you would have to answer. Your voice when you spoke was quiet, “I have been.”

Dream followed you to the couch and clasped your hand in his. “Not enough. Not nearly enough. My realm has suffered in your absence. It has been raining for days, and yesterday we had one of our first involuntary thunderstorms,” he paused, “I have suffered in your absence.” Dream looked away for a moment, uncomfortable with that display of emotion, and moved his thumb over your hand.

You thought he was overreacting a bit, but how could you say that to one of the Endless?

Instead, you countered with, “It was only a few days of less sleep, Morpheus. That’s all.” You may have been fudging it a bit and it might have been more like a week or so, but you didn’t want him to worry. You should have known better.

He shifted closer and squeezed your hand before placing it on his thigh. “That’s all, hmm? You wouldn’t be lying about your sleep to the King of Dreams, would you beloved?” When you didn’t respond, looking down at the floor, he continued, “It has been over a week since you have had sufficient hours of REM sleep as the humans call it, and that is too long. It’s not healthy. Humans need the Dreaming. You need the Dreaming.” He paused for a moment and you looked up to meet his imploring eyes. Morpheus leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your forehead and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, “And the Dreaming… and its King need you.”

You breathed in audibly and stifled a sob. You were so tired.

He pulled you into a hug and as you rested your head on his chest, his slow and steady heartbeat calmed you. He was here now and everything would be alright.

“I’m sorry, love. It wasn’t a good week and I was too stressed to sleep most nights. I missed you.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of your head and caressed his hand up and down your back. When he spoke, with your ear pressed against his chest his voice reminded you of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had as it resonated through your body. “I missed you too, beloved.”

“I’m so tired, Morpheus.”

“I know, I’m here. May I carry you?”

“Of course. Thank you, love.”

“It’s always a pleasure to care for you, my beloved.”

He shifted you to stand then leaned over to wind his hands under your knees and picked you up with your head leaning against his chest. The journey to your bedroom took no time at all. Dream placed you on your bed and began taking the pillows off, unmaking it just the way you liked. He closed the curtains and pulled off his boots as you watched him through half lidded eyes. He sent you a glimpse of a fond smile before settling onto the bed, coat and all, and patting your pillow next to him.

“Come up here, beloved. If you’d like, then I can read you to sleep.”

You sighed before beginning to inch your way up the bed, taking care to emulate a worm as closely as possible. His small flame of a smile flickered into being again, showing his amusement at your antics. You’d almost reached your pillow before sitting up with abruptness at your sudden realization.

“I can’t go to sleep yet. I haven’t brushed my teeth or washed my face.” You pushed yourself out of bed with a groan and moved to the bathroom. “Give me five minutes, and I’m all yours.”

You almost didn’t hear his response as quiet as it was. “You are always mine. As I am always yours.”

You smiled and watched your eyes crinkle with happiness in the mirror. He was so wonderful. Like something out of a dream. That thought made you laugh out loud at both its cheesiness and its accuracy.

“What’s so funny, beloved? Your toothbrush perhaps?”

“No, I had a silly thought is all. So my Dream, was this how you thought tonight would go?”

“In what way?”

“You’re wearing eyeliner. The eyeliner. You know what that does to me, and it makes me think you had very different plans for tonight.”

“Plans change. My priority when we are together is always you and your wellbeing. I will wear my eyeliner another night. Just for you, beloved.”

“You bet you will.” You finished your routine and moved back to your bed, glad to see that Morpheus hadn’t moved. He looked content, waiting there with his back resting against your headboard. You pulled the covers down and then back up again as you settled into bed facing him. You placed your hand in his and smiled up at him. “I think I’m too tired for you to read to me tonight, Morpheus, but I have a book of poetry ready for next time.”

His voice when he spoke was soothing, “I look forward to it. Sleep now, beloved.”

“And Dream a little Dream of you?”

“Exactly, may you have ‘sleep that relieves you and heals you. Sleep that soothes away all your worries.’”

“I didn’t know you knew Shakespeare.”

“Oh yes, I must tell you that story sometime.”

Wait, did that mean he actually knew Shakespeare? As in knew him? It was moments like these that reminded you that while he may look human, he wasn’t. It was easy to forget sometimes that your lover was an Endless, but when he said things like that or when you saw swirling galaxies in the gleam of his eyes you remembered.

“Sleep now, and I will meet you in your dreams.” Dream’s voice was hypnotic and had a soporific effect on you. You closed your eyes and within moments fell into the dark ocean of oblivion before opening them to somewhere else.

All you could see was green — a beautiful verdant green, filled with plants and flowers. You dug your toes into the earth and watched a butterfly land on your hand. You’d missed this place. Fiddler’s Green was one of your favorite places in the Dreaming.

You didn’t see Dream yet, so you made your way along the path towards the falls. Between one blink and the next, Morpheus’s hand was in yours as he walked alongside you.

“Is it a good dream, beloved?”

Your voice when you answered was teasing,“You know it is, King of Dreams, but better now that you’re here.” You sat by the edge of the azure lake and breathed in the refreshing mist of the cascading water as you patted the spot next to you. Morpheus settled alongside you and stretched his legs out, boots and all, towards the water. “Didn’t you take those off?”

The look he gave you made you smile. It was the, This is my Domain and I will wear boots if I want to, look. You shook your head and then laid down with your head in his lap. It was so peaceful here that the outside world felt like nothing more than a distant memory, a far off dream. Morpheus looked relaxed and some of the cares had fallen away from his face as he gazed at the falls with his hand resting on top of yours.

You didn’t know how much time had passed in that intimate and comfortable silence. It could have been hours or minutes before you spoke, “As much as I wish I could lay here with you forever, don’t you have duties?”

He hummed. “I do. I always do, but Lucienne is more than capable of taking them tonight. You are my priority.”

He looked down at you and ‘his eyes gleamed like twin stars in the sky’ — the love and devotion within them endless.

You smiled up at him, your Dream, and hoped your corresponding love shined back. You pushed yourself into a seated position and gently claimed his lips in a kiss that grew into one of greater passion and intensity. The moan you let out – as he deepened the kiss and laid you down on the blanket that had appeared in an instant — was involuntary. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, which he leaned into for a moment before holding your wrists in a gentle grasp and moving them over your head.

“Do not forget whose realm this is, beloved.”

There was no chance of that happening, especially as both of your clothes disappeared with a thought from Morpheus.

You gasped as he left your hands where they were and made his way down your body. As he looked up at you through his eyelashes with a small glimpse of a smile, you felt like you could fall into the gleaming blue ocean of his eyes. It looked like the eyeliner had served its purpose after all.

As you lost yourself in your Dream, knowing that tomorrow you’d wake up refreshed and revitalized, you were so happy you’d found love in and with Morpheus.

While you may not always see him in the waking world, you knew he would always find you in the Dreaming. The main caveat was you had to remember to sleep first. Then again, Dream was doing a good job at the moment of convincing you to never skip out on sleep again.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve posted in ages and the first of what may be more Morpheus fics, so I hope you all liked it and please let me know if you did!

I love the idea of Dream’s moods affecting the weather in the Dreaming. Dream’s paraphrased quote about sleep is from Macbeth. The quote about Morpheus’s eyes “gleaming like twin stars in the sky” is from the comics.

This was partially inspired by Morpheus’s episode of the Dreamcast, which if you haven’t listened to yet I highly recommend it.

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writethrough · 3 months

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Can I request a Morpheus and reader where the reader is krypton like supergirl and he doesn’t know until I show him and we are dating and I risk my life to save him from people who wants to kill him

Thank you 😊

With Power Comes Misunderstandings

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: When Morpheus is late for your date, the only explanation is that someone's tried to harm him because of you—Supergirl's and Lena Luthor's daughter. After all, why else would they want your completely normal, powerless boyfriend?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1623

A/N: Thanks you so much for sending this request in! And thank you for being so patient with me! This one kind of stumped me for a long time, but I think I figured out a way to write it that, hopefully, does your idea justice. It's slightly different, maybe a little lighter than the original idea, but I really played on the "doesn't know you have powers" bit. I hope you enjoy!

He had your full attention, he always did.

For all the sounds you could hear and how far you could see, everything in you focused on Morpheus.

He had this calmness that soothed your soul. He held himself with such confidence and clarity, and you desperately needed that.

Your life was hectic to say the least.

Being the child of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor was one thing. But having powers like both of your mothers was something else entirely. You were born with Supergirl’s speed and senses, and the Walsh affinity for magic.

However, they both wished for you to grow up as human-like as you could. You went to school, college, got a job, and when you were old enough, they started training you.

You were disappointed when you discovered heat vision and freeze breath weren’t in your arsenal of powers. But, it turned out, they translated into your magic.

Fire and water were at your disposal. Two sides of the same coin—the light and the dark. Much like your parents’ families.

They told you stories, you watched and read the news—you knew their history. But one of the things they always taught you was that your story was your own. They embodied it in everything they did. Even in their names: Kara Danvers-Walsh and Lena Walsh-Danvers.

It was why you never felt the need to keep secrets from them. You also never forgot that if anyone could sus them out, it was your mothers.

When you initially told them you were seeing someone, you asked them to respect your privacy and to not go digging. Though, you doubted that they would find anything. It’s not like Morpheus had an Instagram—any social media for that matter. You didn’t mind that, though. He wasn’t attached to this modern-day vanity. He didn’t live his life for an audience, he did it for himself.

Glancing at your watch, you wondered just where your other half was.

Today, you were finally going to introduce your parents to Morpheus. You could already hear Kara asking how you two met, itching to get confirmation of the meet-cute she had already imagined.

It was kind of cliché.

You were walking your dog, she caught a whiff of a hot dog cart and bolted, and Morpheus grabbed her leash just before she could snatch one from the cart owner’s fingers.

You had thanked him profusely, that twinge of irritation ringing because you couldn’t use your speed in public.

Morpheus was gorgeous. And you may or may not have given your pup extra treats for inadvertedly introducing you two.

Again, you checked your watch, tugging on the simple stud in your ear. Your magic thrummed within them, the spell to conceal said magic always on you. Your parents recommended the idea early on, a protective measure. It kept you hidden from anyone who could sense your power.

You sighed. It wasn’t like Morpheus to be late. If anything, he was always perfectly on time, appearing the second the clock turned.

Your stomach churned, and there was a prickling underneath your skin.

Something was wrong.

You clutched the necklace Morpheus had given you a few weeks ago. It had been a true surprise—not a birthday gift or a silly monthaversary token. He’d given it to you out of the blue, and said when he saw it, he thought of you.

A ruby, no bigger than your pinky fingernail, hung from a delicate gold chain. It was the most recent possession you had of his at the moment, but thankfully, it should hold enough meaning between the two of you to lead you to him.

You muttered a few words, imbuing it with your magic, and instantly, it cooled against your chest.

Too far.

The chain warmed along your left side, pulling you in that direction.

You ran when you could, slowing when too many people were around.

The necklace lost its warmth in front of a rundown barn five miles south of the city. Everything about it screamed “Do Not Enter.” Smashed-in windows, chipped paint, overgrown foliage—trees creating a shroud, its very own darkness.

You exhaled shakily. Morpheus was inside. And the only reason you could come up with was that someone found out about you. Someone needed to get you away from your family with enough leverage to make you come alone. And they chose Morpheus. The man your parents knew of, but not who he was. You weren’t sure if it was sheer luck or pure coincidence.

You kept him hidden too long, and now look what’s happened.

You should’ve been more careful. People were always trying to hurt your parents, hurt you, but you were all strong. Morpheus was innocent in all of this, and you were going to make sure whatever asshole took him would be sent straight to prison.

It was that thought that made you kick in the door, charging into something you never expected.

“Morpheus?”

He stood as he always did, calm and collected—unbothered even—with five men unconscious at his feet.

His head tilted almost imperceptively. “Darling?”

“What happened?” you asked, spotting the chalk-drawn runes.

Walking along the circle, you recognized most of them. Entrapment, weakening, barriers, and one that you’d never seen. You were so wrapped up in deciphering it that you hadn’t realized he never answered you.

“Morpheus?” You furrowed your brow, and he avoided your gaze.

“I must confess an error.” He spoke softly, almost...ashamed?

You slowly stepped closer. “What are you talking about? Are you alright?”

That seemed to make his shoulders drop more.

“I am unharmed, but I fear my misjudgement will...effect us.”

“You can tell me anything,” you urged, fingers brushing his forearm.

“I—” He stopped himself, eyes pleading with you. “I have not been truthful, and it has endangered you.” He glanced to the men. “They wanted to use you to manipulate me.”

Your features pinched. Why on Earth would they want to control Morpheus? And why did he think these people were after him and not you?

You shook your head. “This isn’t your fault. They wanted me.”

You moved to the runes again, missing the confusion passing over his face.

“These are symbols meant to draw in magic. They wanted to trap someone here.” You stopped at the one you couldn’t place. “I’m not sure what they were doing with this one, though.”

“They made a mistake. It means nothing.”

You scanned it.

He was right. It was almost like the men smashed two runes together. It was completely useless.

...But how did Morpheus know that?

The question was on the tip of your tongue when he interupted.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.”

You blinked. “What?”

He stepped toward you, slowly, as if afraid you’d run from him.

“I am not human...am I to think the same for you?” His eyes lit trails over your body even in his investigation.

You nodded, everything piecing its way together.

“So, wait. You’re saying that you were the target, and that they wanted me as bait?” you asked. It wasn’t anything completely new. Your mothers had security all over you until you came into your power. “How did you get to them before they got to me?”

“Their dreams. One fell asleep here and showed me what they wished to do,” he said, head down.

His fingers slipped into your hand, a point of connection he seemed to need.

“My deepest apologies, dear one.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”

His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “I was late for our meeting.”

Your smile started small, then grew until you were giggling. His eyebrows twitched, but the uptick of his lips was all you saw before you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

His hands settled at your waist as he returned it.

“That’s what you’re worried about,” you mumbled into his lips. “I think—” kiss “—I can—” kiss “—forgive you.”

He cupped your cheeks, gliding his nose against yours.

“How very generous.”

The last bit of your giggling escaped, gripping his coat.

“You have not told me who you are,” he said, eyes locked.

You hummed, then gave him one last kiss. “I think it’s best if you get everything all at once.”

Gripping his hand, you were about to walk out of the barn when his firm hold stopped you.

“I believe I have a faster way.”

---

“Wait. So, you thought he was the bait for you, and he thought you were the bait for him?” Aunt Alex asked, waving her fork between you and Morpheus.

You nodded. “I think he was more surprised than me.”

He gazed at you fondly. “I have never been more pleased to learn a secret that had been kept from me.”

“Oh?” Lena asked. “Why’s that?”

“She is protected even if I can not come to her aid.”

Kare “awwed” as she brought in two pans of food with Aunt Kelly carrying a large bowl.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.

“Trust me,” Kelly started. “Even if she wasn’t powered, she has an entire legion behind her.”

Morpheus gripped your hand beneath the table. You glanced to him, then caught Kara’s eyes, a knowing look as she turned to your boyfriend. Your cheeks warmed when you realized she wasn’t wearing her glasses.

“We’ll have to introduce you to everyone one day,” Kara said. “Since we’ll be seeing more of you.”

Your jaw relaxed as you caught it just before it opened. She wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t think she’d be so bold.

Morpheus gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would be an honor.”

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months

Text

At Long Last (Revised)

Pairings: Dream of the Endless x goddess!Reader Word Count: 13.8k words Warnings: Captivity, murder, torture, slight maiming, swearing… A/N: This used to be 9.8k words but...here we are now. I posted this a year ago and decided I didn't do it enough justice. You can still find the first post here if you wanted to compare it. I hope you enjoy this, happy reading!

"Must you leave for so much time?"

You smiled gently at your Dream, taking his hands and stepping closer. You kiss the spot between his brows, "I will be back before you know it. The humans need me right now, and I must aid them. That is our purpose, isn't it?"

The world had been thrust into a war. The humans were struggling, and, as the Goddess of Hope and Transformation, it was your job to aid them in their struggles. Dream knew this well, it was one of the reasons he loved you so.

He merely breathed a sigh and nodded as he looked down at you, "Very well, then. Be safe."

"I always am," you smiled, pressing your hand to his cheek. "Don't go anywhere while I'm gone." It was a joke, gentle teasing as you tried to pull a smile from his lips. You managed a ghost of one and nothing more. You sighed and leaned forward, kissing his lips gently as you savored the taste of him before you were off. You didn't know how long you would be gone. "I love you, Morpheus."

"And I, you," he said.

The war lasted four long years. Four years full of grueling work; taking care of the injured and the dead, healing the sick… You stayed behind another two years to help those of the mortal plane to begin to settle and recover after the chaos and bloodshed came to an end.

You spent most days and nights as a medic for injured soldiers, some days you were doing charity work for the families at home. Work was busy—answering prayers, granting hope to those without, helping in any way that you could to ease the troubles of war.

By the time you returned to the Dreaming, all you wished to do was hold your husband in your arms and dream with him for a little while. But as you crossed the threshold of dream and slumber, felt yourself returning home for the first time in six years, you knew something was wrong. Things had changed. You would not return to the Dreaming the way you left it.

You stood at the gates for a very long time, staring at the carvings and the art of the entrance, lost in the careful contemplation of what you would be returning to. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. You were afraid to move any closer. You chewed on your lip and tapped your foot, shaking your head as the worry ate at you.

Just go, you thought to yourself. He'll be waiting on the other side for you. Surely, he will.

You took in a slow, deep breath…and then took a step.

"My lady?"

You turned your head and found your loyal librarian approaching you. You smiled and held your arms out to your dear friend. "Lucienne," you breathed as you took her in your arms. "It's been so long."

She smiled, a type of relief in your eyes you knew like the back of your hand. Hope. She held tight.

You sighed, "Where's Morpheus?"

You felt her muscles tense as she pulled back with a frown. "I was hoping…" her relief turned to dread, "he'd gone to you while you were away."

Your smile fell and a concern slipped over your face that Lucienne briefly mistook as anger. "What does that mean?" you asked.

She took a slight step back, holding a journal in her arms as she looked down at her feet for just a moment. She peaked up at you over the top of her glasses as she frowned. "I'm afraid…Lord Morpheus has been gone for four years. He went to the Waking World two years after you left in search of the Corinthian, and…he hasn't been seen since."

Your heart sparked with pain at the news of your dear husband's disappearance. Everything was fine when you left, and now he was gone? How could this happen?

"Show me the kingdom," you said.

Lucienne nodded hesitantly as you both made your way to the grand entrance of the Dreaming. They opened for their queen without hesitation, your long white robes flowing behind.

The realm seemed…okay. Most of the same magic, just lacking in a bit of luster. But it was just okay. The Dreaming was grand, magnificent, the reflection of the fantasies and hopes and fears and loves of all of humanity and inhumanity. If Morpheus didn't return soon, it would begin to crumble. You would not see his realm turn to ash, not if you could help it.

You went to the castle with Lucienne at your side, waving to the residents who smiled and waved their greetings to their returning queen, delighted and enchanted that you were home again. Happy as you were to see them again, you had more pressing matters on your mind.

The inside of the castle—the heart of the realm—was stronger as you ventured within, but there were cracks in the walls that carved themselves into your heart. Morpheus lack of presence in the realm was breaking, even you could only feel so much of him here…

You pressed your hand against one of the cracks, so shallow they could be passed on as marble-like design. You frowned, peeling your hand away into somewhat of a fist.

"I have to go find my husband."

"My lady," Lucienne gave a gentle interjection as a voice of reason. "If I may… I think it would be best if you stayed. Without Dream, the realm will begin to fade. Your presence might be the only thing keeping this place from ruin."

"But if he's missing and he doesn't return, my presence won't do a thing," you told her. You could see her sigh at your response, not unreasonable but certainly not her favorite. "I need to find him and bring him back. Do you know where he went?"

She shook her head regrettably, "No, I don't. But perhaps you could ask one of his siblings?"

You hesitated at the idea. "Perhaps if it comes to that, but… you know how the Endless are." She sighed and nodded.

You softened at the sight of her despondency, walking over to her as you set your hands on her shoulders. She looked up at you again, and you offered a smile. "I will return soon."

She tilted her head. "He said the same thing."

Your reassuring smile faltered and you let out a breath. "I promise. Have hope, dear friend."

She smiled sentimentally. She set a hand over yours. "I did miss you, my lady," she said.

"And I, you." You blinked a couple of times. They were the last words Morpheus had said to you before you left. "I will be back, and I'll be back with Dream."

It was more to reassure yourself than her. You let out a long breath and stepped away. "Stay safe," Lucienne bid softly.

You smiled. "I always am."

You grasped the edges of your white robes, feeling them between your fingers before sweeping them over your form like billowing sheets in the wind. They enveloped you in magic as you took flight in a blur of feathers of white.

He was somewhere in the Waking World. That was what you knew. You would find him one way or another.

You searched the world, wings and magic carrying you across the vast realm. You searched over land and sea and mountain and countryside. You searched the sky and you searched the caves. The more you searched, the more you wondered, the more you doubted. You couldn't find him, not in the trees, not in the sand. He was being kept from you, a deliberate shield of your senses. When you finished, you swept the Earth again for the ethereal being you could not find.

And then again over.

It was about a month before you finally returned to the Dreaming. You collapsed on the throne, barren of the king it belonged to, exhausted and dismayed.

As if on cue, Lucienne was standing there again. Her face was full of worry and concern as she looked upon you for the first time in a while.

"I can't find him, Lucienne," you lamented. "I searched over the Earth five times, and he was nowhere. I'm worried."

She took a step, "We will find him, my queen."

You nodded gently, looking around as if the answer would present itself. It seemed like it did when your eyes found a depiction of his mask on a carving in the wall. You stood and began descending the steps. "I will ask his siblings. Surely one of them will have an answer—Death, Destiny, even possibly Desire."

As you took the first few steps, you faltered for a moment, your legs weak and your tired arms sore as you caught yourself. Your robe splayed over the floor, dark skies inside of your cloak filled with clouds of grey. Lucienne rushed to your side, helping you stay steady on your feet as she caught of glimpse of the gloomy weather hidden within your cloak. Her brows creased in worry. "You need to rest, my lady. You cannot go out there like this."

You shook your head in protest, dusting yourself off. "I need to find my husband."

"Ma'am, please," she begged. She adjusted the glasses on the tip of her nose, furrowed brows pulled tight with her worry. "You put yourself at risk by leaving as you are. You can't help him if you, yourself, are hurt."

You pressed the meat of your palm to your temple, staving off a headache forming there. You couldn't sleep, without Dream, it was far and few and unpleasantly empty. You sighed, thinking for a moment before resigning with the nod of your head. "Alright," you said, choosing to ease your dear friend's worry. "I'll rest, but then I go straight to them."

She licked her lips, looking down at the ground for a moment. "My lady—if I may," she trailed off, thinking before she spoke again, "the realm needs you."

"The realm has you." You trusted Lucienne to take your place while you were away. She was more than capable of holding the realm together, as far as the residents go.

"I'm just a dream," she shook her head, adjusting her glasses and placing her arms behind her back again, still gripping her journal. "You're his wife. Lord Morpheus is the heart of the Dreaming, you are the heart of Lord Morpheus. The realm needs you." She tilted her head, looking away to organize her thoughts again, careful of her words as though she were speaking to a tempered Dream.

"Some of the dreams are beginning to doubt Lord Morpheus will return," she began slowly. "Some believe that, if you find him…you will abandon them, too."

Your lips parted as you listened to the news. "They think we will leave them behind?" you wondered. "Have they no faith in us?"

"It's not a matter of faith as much as it is a matter of uncertainty. One of the Endless has abandoned their duties before,” her words were guarded. She did not look at you as easily as she said it, uncertain of what your response would be.

Instead you merely sighed and clenched your jaw, looking down as you took her words into consideration. You straightened your back again, “What will you have me do, Lucienne? Leave him?” The thought of it made your blood run cold.

Lucienne sighed. “The walls are cracking. The residents are wavering. I think he would want you to keep the realm safe first.” There was a long pause before she continued, “Perhaps you should assure everyone, mend the damage, then search for him when you have any idea as to where he actually is.” It did not come out as an insult, more as a plea for your ear.

You thought in silence for a while, trying to see if there was another way. Another way to restore the realm’s calm without the expense of leaving your husband to fend for himself, wherever he was. He could be in danger for all you knew. But if he was not in the realm, it would suffer. If you were not in the realm, it would suffer. Lucienne was right, you were the only one who could keep the Dreaming intact, even if only for a little while, until you were certain you knew where Morpheus was. Until you were certain you could find him again.

You looked down at your feet and sighed, defeated by Lucienne's better judgment to your love-rotten mind. You nodded your head and agreed. “Very well. I will,” you swallowed hard before looking up again. “But as soon as I have anything, I find Morpheus.”

She did not argue. “Of course, my lady.”

Without Morpheus' magic, it took three years for your presence alone to heal the cracks in the foundation. When you returned, the residents of the Dreaming eased their worries and allowed you liberty not to be too concerned about their loyalty.

It was tiring—lonesome—to have no clue as to where your husband could've been. Lucienne passed on any information she could, but she had her own responsibilities to the library.

You'd hoped to find him in sleep, as all people did—but even there, your wishes were not answered. Nevertheless, you resigned to bed for the first time in over a week. You, admittedly, did not require much sleep, but without Dream, sleep was much harder to acquire anyway.

Your hand brushed against the empty spot beside you. His pillow was cold, his sheets colder. You laid back gently against your own with a heavy sigh and felt the tears before they were even a thought in your mind. The sobs shook more gently from you, having grown used to the feeling over the past few years. Part of you feels guilty for grieving so much. It's one of the reasons it took so long, your heart was hurting and hope was always wavering because of it. Sleep did not ease you for a long time that night, when you slept and dreamt the first dream in a long time.

A dream through the vision of another's eyes.

High over the expanse of trees. The sounds of other birds, flapping wings. Blue skies, green fields. Then a house, a mansion.

A strange air. A dark presence.

You woke up with a start, breath heavy and loud as your pulse roared in your ears. Raising a hand to ease your thumping heart, you calmed yourself enough to recount the dream that had whispered in your ear.

Jessamy, that beautiful bird.

In the next second, you were dressed in your robes and off to the library. Upon turning the corner to see her stocking shelves, you rushed toward her with a quiet exclamation. "Lucienne!"

She turned to you in a heartbeat, attentive and alert, "What is it?"

You smiled, one of the first genuine smiles she'd seen on you in years. "Jessamy. She showed me where he is. I didn't see him, but I saw a house."

"Are you going there?" she wondered, immediately concerned for your welfare.

"I have to," you take Lucienne's hands. "If there's any chance she's right, I have to take it. You're in charge until I return, and I will be back soon."

Lucienne nodded dutifully, though you could see her hesitance to let her go. But you are the queen, and she is your humble servant. "Be safe, my queen."

"I always am."

And then you were flying into the Waking World, a white crow's wings carrying you across the skies. You searched for her, which was a lot easier than searching for your husband's mysterious location.

You found her perched under a tree, and you shifted upon arrival to greet her. Her wings spread wide in greeting and you smiled. "Jessamy! I've missed you," you held out a hand for her and she stood on your wrist as you brought her up to your level. "Where is he?"

She turned her head in the direction of the large manor she'd shown you in your dreams. Flying away again, Jessamy bid you to take her lead. You transformed in a lunge, chasing after her on nimble paws.

You came up on the manor, watched as she perched on a tree. She turned her head to you, giving a slight bow. You continued on, slowing as you came up on a stray entrance to the house, a tiny hole in the foundation at the side just big enough for you to slip in.

As you squeezed through, you looked around at the grand place. It was an old manor, very traditional and belonging to a family of high standing. You padded along the halls, looking at the architecture and furniture, the vases and paintings.

The sound of voices down the hall had you rushing to find a corner to hide in. You crouched under a chair in the hall just as a tall man dressed in expensive clothes and white hair combed from his face. He had a beard of white, a cane to help him walk. As he passed by you, you followed after, staying low to the ground as you traveled along the wall to remain hidden.

His swift steps resounded along the halls as you followed. He stopped. You stilled. As he turned around, you hid behind a vase on the floor. The fur along your back stood on end, and you crouched low to the ground. His eyes swept the corridor, he hesitated, and then he continued walking once more.

You came up to a door. Turning the handles, he opened it and walked into a room. It was dark, a cellar guarded by two men armed with guns and bored-looking faces—two men who quickly stood to their feet upon his arrival.

So he was the boss. You slipped in just before the door closed, staying close to the wall as you ducked underneath the table both the guards had been sitting. You turned.

And you saw him.

You stared and gawked and gazed at Morpheus, trapped in a globe of glass without a strip of clothing to protect himself. Anger flared within you as the older man stood in front of the glass. He had a stern look on his face as he stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he balanced the cane between his fingers.

He stood there for a while, staring at your dream lord like an ant under his boot. "We've been here before," he sighed, already exhausted of the conversation. "I've asked a thousand times, and I'll ask a thousand more," he said. "Can you return my son to me?"

Morpheus said nothing as he stared with a gaze that would penetrate souls and turn men to boys. The coldness in his eyes, the chill of the silent rage in them made the room freeze.

"No?" he jabbed. "Money? Power? Anything?"

No response.

He hummed, tapping the cane behind his back. He knew the drill. "Very well then."

He left without another word.

As he walked away, you began moving again. You crawled forward, coming from underneath the table in a slow crawl to keep from being so conspicuous, your white fur making you obvious in the darkness.

As Dream stared down at his lap, his brows furrowed. He looked around slowly, sensing the presence of something nonhuman and searching for it. His eyes lifted and found you immediately. No matter who or what you were, he would sense you anywhere.

His eyes found yours, deep and sorrowful and filled with the depths of his love for you. His empty face slowly shifted, lifting in a tiny little smile as he found light in the sight of you.

Your heart cried out for him. He looked so ethereal. To others, he would be a strange creature with strange powers to behold.

But to you, he was your husband. And you loved your husband.

You took a few steps forward, quick and light on your feet. His face shifted again, and he shook his head, the movement miniscule but enough.

You stopped and tilted your head at him. Why?

You tried to step forward again. Another protest.

His eyes pleaded for your heed, teary and regretful. He opened his mouth just a crack and mouthed a simple "no".

You huffed and ignored his words. There was no way you would come this far after spending so much time searching for him, only to leave him behind once you have him in your sights again.

You bounded toward the glass. His lips parted and his eyes filled with regret. You ran across the expanse of the room, jumping over the water that lined the cage as you grew closer to the man who had been trapped here for the last five years.

As you jumped toward the glass, you hit a barrier surrounding the dome. You bounded off of it and landed on your feet, crouched still as you stared frustratedly at the glass. Shit.

The guards looked up as they caught sight of you out of the corner of their eyes. "Oi!" He turned to his friend, patting him roughly on the chest. "Where'd a fucking cat come from?"

"I don't know. Get it!"

You looked at Morpheus again, staring anxiously. He shook his head and looked toward the exit again. You mewled weakly, hesitating as you kept watching him. It had been so long…

You felt fingers brush your backside as you slipped out of the man's grip, skidding away before starting off for the door. He cursed under his breath.

You sprinted toward the closest exit you could find. You slipped through with ease, leaving the complaining man behind as you broke out into the corridor. You kept running and running, stopping only once to glance behind you to see if the halfwits were still after you.

"Hey!"

Your ears perked and you turned quickly as you stared at the man who had imprisoned your husband. He glared at you, bringing his cane up with every intention of smacking you with it.

You hissed violently, arching your back as you backed away with the swat of your paw. He swung at you, just narrowly missing. You bounded in the other direction. He walked after you quickly, just as you broke out through the front door, taking off like a bullet toward the trees.

You heard his exclamation behind you. A loud "fuck!" in the distance as you continued on into the woods surrounding the manor. He watched Jessamy fly down from the trees to fly after you. And then he watched you jump into flight with her. You heard him curse again.

Out into the woods, you stopped to catch your breath. Leaning against a tree on your own two legs now, eyes full of tears and heart full of rage, you cried. Jessamy perched in front of you, hanging her head mournfully.

"He's been in there for five years?"

She bobbed her head in confirmation. You huffed. "We have to save him," you sighed. "But they have a shield against me, I can't get to him myself."

She stared thoughtfully.

You stood straight, dusting off your robes and letting out a heavy breath. You closed your eyes for a moment, steadying yourself and wiping at your face to be rid of your tears. Jessamy flew up to a tree limb, watching and waiting for an order.

You turned toward her, running a hand through your hair to think. "Keep watch, be safe. I will return soon."

She bowed her head again, and you smiled at her as you pet her feathers. She nestled her head into your palm. She'd missed you. Wishing her farewell, you flew off again to the Dreaming.

Roderick Burgess stormed back down to the cellar, clutching his cane tightly in his grip. The last thing he needed to deal with was some bloody bird and a magical cat.

He approached the prison and stood there silently as Dream glared at him with more rage than he'd seen in him since he arrived, even more rage than they'd held when he was first captured.

Voice tight, Burgess watched Dream intently. He grit his teeth. "Who was the cat that came to visit you today?"

As expected, Dream said nothing. What surprised Burgess, however, was the clench of his jaw as he glared at the old man with a burning rage.

"Oh, is it someone important?" he asked, raising a brow. He thought briefly over who it could be that would pull a reaction from this stubborn god after five years of silence. He recalled the warnings he received after first capturing the Endless.

"Well, you'll have to deal with that one." They watched a raven fly off, disgruntled after being struck from a tree. The strange man who'd appeared in Burgess' house turned to him, passing caution. "Her name is Jessamy. She belongs to him."

Burgess' eyes flicked in the direction the bird had escaped. The man turned to leave before stopping abruptly, looking over his shoulder.

"Ah, how could I forget?" he spoke. "There's someone else you'll have to watch for. Much more powerful than a pesky bird."

Roderick tilted his chin, "Who?"

"His wife," he smiled, snapping the word. "The divine Y/N."

Burgess noted the sense of reverence in his voice as he spoke, such high respect for this mystery girl. He furrowed his brow, "Why would I care about his little wife?"

He almost looked offended at the phrasing as he licked his teeth, nearly scowling at the bitter old man. "Because she's the queen. The Goddess of Hope and Transformation, beloved in his realm and this one alike. She'd gone to war for your kind a few years ago." He said it with a hint of distaste.

Burgess stared thoughtfully. The man smiled a little, "Let's just say…she's not one known for letting things go." He tipped his hat, "Best of luck…to the both of us."

"Will I see you again?"

"You should hope not."

Dream's hard eyes were harder still. Roderick's lips turned into a malicious smirk that only curled Dream's anger. "Is it, perhaps…someone special?" He raised a brow. "Your goddess wife?"

Dream tilted his chin slightly, declining his gaze until his dangerous gaze looked deadly. Burgess could have sworn he saw his lip twitch. Progress.

"Perhaps I should catch her next," he suggested, treading dangerous waters. "Maybe she can give me what I want. Or motivate you."

His fists clenched until his pale knuckles were white as pearls. "Oh," he raised his brow, amused. "Have I angered you?" he asked. "Does my suggestion make you upset?"

He tapped his cane sharply against the hard, thinking to himself. "I don't think imprisonment would work on her or you. A broken heart bleeds more than a wounded one."

He didn't break his gaze away from Morpheus as he called the guards' attention. They sat up quickly as he addressed them. "If you see the cat again…"

Dream's glare challenged Roderick as his chest heaved with heavy, rageful breaths. He didn't seem to care. He turned away and started walking.

"Kill it."

You and Lucienne tore through the library in search of any spell that could break the one keeping Morpheus in and you out. You searched public archives, private archives, you searched books even you had only just discovered existed. You found nothing.

You continued back and forth between the Dreaming and the Waking World. Jessamy reported anything new that she could with each visit. Sometimes you snuck in yourself to make sure he was not hurt. Every time he laid eyes on you, you could see the sorrow in the depths of his soul.

Soon, my love.

Over the course of the next five years, even your own rule in the Dreaming was beginning to waver. The cracks were returning, the residents were doubting your search.

You needed Morpheus back. Jessamy seemed to feel the same.

One day, you went to visit her and your husband again. She flew back to the manor with you in tow. You walked after her silently as she made her way into the house. You followed closely, hiding when you needed.

You heard Burgess' steps as he came down the hall, bolting quickly as you hid underneath a chair. Jessamy posed on a lion taxidermy, still as the thing itself as she watched the man. You kept track of his footsteps, heard the sound of a match lighting into a flame, and then saw his shoes leave the room again after a du thump on the seat from something being thrown onto it. You came out of hiding as he left. Jessamy grabbed a match, lighting it flying away and returning with it lit as she dropped it onto a newspaper on the chair. Clever bird.

She returned to your side moments later as the fire caught and flew with you away. Two men, more guards, burst from a room to see what was happening. You saw your chance and took it, entering the cellar with Jessamy about you.

She went straight for him, and you followed as you allowed your magic to grant her more strength to break through the glass when you couldn't. She tapped her beak against the glass, a rapid peck in an attempt to get through. Morpheus watched the both of you and smiled, his eyes full of pride for his girls. It made your heart soar. You were so close to freedom, to him.

You leaned up against the barrier. Jessamy's wings and beak continued to beat against the glass. Dream reached out for the both of you, enthralled in his saviors.

Your ears rang as a loud crack sounded through the air.

You stilled as you felt warm, crimson blood against your snowy fur.

You flinched when Jessamy's mangled and bloodied body landed next to you.

There was another cock of the gun. You turned to see Burgess with it. You bent to take Jessamy in your maw, but Dream's hand tapping insistently against the glass stopped you. His tearful eyes pleaded for you, for you to leave, to flee, to save yourself and never return. He would not see you dead, too.

You faltered and looked back at Burgess, who was aiming the gun at you with a greedy scowl. You moved away just in time for the bullet to pass you. You ran toward them, heading for the open entrance as you tried to get through.

He cocked the gun and shot again, narrowly missing your fleeing body. The guards blocked your way as you tried to weave through. Burgess bent down and picked you up in a steel grip by the nape of your neck, pinching painfully as you hissed and clawed and squirmed.

He glared as he brought you up to his face, ignoring the way you scratched and bit at his wrist. Dream leaned against the glass, hands pressing against the cold material as he watched you struggle to break free.

He brought you up to his face, which proved to be a mistake as you clawed at him. As he granted you a smile, one full of malice and taunting, your ears peeled back as you hissed. Your sharp claws dug into his brow and raked down his face, scraping against his eye as he groaned loudly. He dropped you to the ground as he turned away to cover his eye. You landed on your feet and rushed away as the other guards chased after you.

"Get the damn thing!" You heard Roderick yell from the cellar.

Your heart pounded in your chest, imprinting its shape into your ribcage. As you glanced behind to see if you were being pursued, you missed the person walking around the corner. You screamed again when you were being picked up once more, squirming as a man's hands clamped around your body to keep you still as he held your arms tightly.

You yowled and hissed and screamed, trying to break free but finding it impossible to. Burgess and the guards approached, murderous intent in his eyes and frustrated exhaustion in theirs. "Bring her here."

The man holding you still, some other guard you recognized. You hissed as Burgess came to stand before you. He sneered and looked at you like a pest. You hissed again.

"Come." He turned and made his way back to the cellar, the guard holding you still as he followed. Upon re-entering the cellar, you saw Morpheus again as he sighed deeply and leaned away from the glass. You could see the fear in his eyes.

It was silent as you all just stared, watching one another with a variety of emotions. Burgess spoke.

"Now I have you and your little pet." He seemed to be proud of his achievement. He reached over and grabbed you roughly by your neck and you hissed at the pain. He turned you to face him, scoffing again before dropping you down and kicking you away from him with his expensive leather shoes. The painful sound you let out as you landed roughly on your side pained Dream as he watched you.

You looked at him, whining and trying to stand again. Burgess took quite a bit of joy in kicking you again, striking you roughly and sending you flying again.

"Father!" Alex, Burgess' son, exclaimed.

Burgess turned quickly toward him, raising his cane in his direction in a sharp warning. "Do you want to be next?"

Alex stepped back and bowed his head, staring at the floor regretfully and wincing as he heard his father strike you once more.

You didn't try to stand again. If you did, you would only hurt Morpheus by making him suffer through seeing you hit again. You stayed down.

Burgess huffed and turned to Dream. "Let's see how much you love your little wife."

There were no words to describe the look in your husband's eyes as he glared at Burgess. It was like watching an entire universe fill with blackness, a darkness that consumes galaxies, devours supernovas, destroys black holes from the inside, out. His jaw clenched, his breath heaved, vengeful tears rolled down the tip of his nose and dropped down from his chin.

Burgess huffed. "Keep her here. We shall teach them both a lesson."

He began to leave before turning toward Alex, "And clean that damn thing up." He stormed out of the cellar, leaving you, Alex, and the guards behind.

Slowly, Alex took Jessamy into his hands and stood back to his feet, staring sorrowfully at you and Morpheus before turning and taking his leave.

You sighed and laid on the cold floor, defeated for the moment as the weakness and exhaustion in your muscles crept in. Maybe just a little bit of sleep would do you good. Just a few minutes…

"Oi!"

Your eyes opened again, heavy as you looked at the guards again. "Don't let it sleep," he said to one of the guards. Give it a tablet or something."

Another guard pulled a bottle from his pocket as he rolled his eyes, walking over to you and bending down to grab you. You mewled as he grabbed your sore neck and forces your mouth open to shove a pill inside. You tried to force it out, but he was very thorough in ensuring it went down.

And once the pillow was swallowed, he groaned as he walked away. "Have to go wash my fucking hands now. That's disgusting," he mumbled. "Watch 'em."

"Yeah, yeah." He kicked his feet up as he sat at the desk and sighed. "Hate this fucking job."

You laid there, weak eyes watching Morpheus. He was so beautiful. You could stare at him for hours…

You didn't know how long you spent trapped in that cellar—at least a month, if you were thinking correctly with the passing of time. Burgess kept you weak and awake, a metal collar chained around your neck tight enough so you couldn't slip out. It was bolted to the floor, you wouldn't be escaping anytime soon as you were too hurt to shift out of them.

Burgess would come to the cellar every day and ask things of Dream that he could and would not give. When he gave silence to the man's pesky questions, he would turn to you and have the guards kick you around to encourage Morpheus. You hated it, being the center of his torment.

And what of Lucienne? You hadn't returned when you said and now you were trapped too. How were you to help if you couldn't even get out of your own chains?

You didn't know how long you spent down there with your husband, you held on for the sole purpose of ensuring him that you would both make it out okay. You were his hope, you would not break.

Burgess was angry when he came to the cellar one day. You sighed as you adjusted yourself to sit, ignoring the ache in your bone and muscle as you stared at him. Your fur was grimy, still stained with the blood of dear Jessamy and darkened by dirt and blood of your own.

Your ear flicked as you just stared at Burgess, who didn't regard you as he made his way to Dream. He came up and leaned on the glass, watching him through one eye as the other scarred shut after your defilement. It was a great look on him.

He was silent for a while, he liked to relish in the power of his own silence but despised the silence of others after he'd demanded a reply.

He finally spoke, stressed and annoyed as ever. "The woman who lives with me has gone and robbed me of my fortune," he said.

You remembered this woman. She was kind to you, at least—Ethel Cripps. She used to keep out food for you. On the occasion that she could, she'd even allow you a moment of comfort and a scratch behind the ears. You hadn't seen her since you were captured.

"She's also robbed you," he continued. You tilted your head. "She's taken your helm, your sand, and your ruby." As if you needed another problem to solve…

"Now, I can unlock this, you can go after her, I can let your little thing go…if you give me what I've been asking for. Wealth, youth, immortality." There was a long pause, frustration at Morpheus' silence. "Oh, you're a god. These things are nothing to you."

Another pause. "Don't you want your weapons and your freedom? To see your wife as something other than a bloody cat being thrown around like a ragdoll?"

Dream tilted his head but gave no other response. Burgess' anger got the better of him as he grew impatient, frustrated.

"Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!" He punctuated each word with a sharp strike at the glass with his cane. You watched silently, intently. Your ear twitched and the movement caught his eye as he turned toward you. As he stepped forward, you stood to start backing away, stopped by the chain as you pulled on it to move away some more.

Dream practically jumped to the glass, the rage flaring.

Burgess raised his cane high. "Speak!"

You crouched in anticipation of the strike.

Alex's hand took hold of the cane just before it came down on you. You stared, frozen with fear as your wide eyes went unblinking.

"It's all right, Father."

He turned quickly, dropping his pursuits to glare offended at his son. "Get away from me! If you were any kind of son to me…" He swung his cane at the boy.

Alex struggled not to be hit, moving out of the way as the cane swung and he flailed his arms to catch it. Your heart pounded in your chest, recovering still from such a close encounter.

"If Randall were alive today–"

Alex grabbed it once more, firmly halting his father's attempts to strike him once more. "If Randall were alive, he would hate you as much as I do!"

Burgess stopped and huffed, forcing Alex away and not anticipating him to push back. The force was too harsh for the both of them as Burgess stumbled back, losing grip of his cane after being knocked off balance.

With a sickening smack and a surprised grunt, Burgess fell back against and hit his head against the glass. He brought a hand back to see the blood smeared on his fingers, slumping to the ground as you just watched.

Alex and the guards rushed to him. He wheezed as his blood leaked out over the cold, hard floors. He turned weakly to Morpheus as his eyes fluttered and his breath became labored with the loom of death. "You're never getting out of there," he said, eyes drifting. "Never."

His eyes found you, hooded and fading. You stared at him, your own eyes wide as you watched him. A heavy, cold hand reached out toward you, wanting so desperately to feel one last shred of hope before he left his mortal coil forever.

You stood and turned your back to him.

You heard his hand fall to the floor, a dull thump. You sighed, relief flooding you now that the source of the cruelty was gone…

Alex backed away from his father's body, disoriented and dazed as he stared. He shook his head and looked around with a face etched in confusion and fear.

As you turned around, standing to your feet, Alex's gaze found your thoughtful eyes. You blinked and turned your head to your husband.

Morpheus stood in his cage, his lean body stretching tall as he reached out toward the glass. Your tail and ears twitched, wide eyes watching Alex's gaze hold strong to Morpheus in all his power. He looked hypnotized by your husband's glory as he held his hand out. Just a little more, and you could leave this place forever.

"Don't do it, sir." You hissed at the guard, who ignored you as he continued to plead with Alex. "He'll kill us."

Alex didn't listen, a dopey grin spreading over his lips as he brought Morpheus closer to freedom.

"What would your father say?"

Alex stopped, returning his hand to his side as he returned to his sullen manner. He backed away from the glass, gripping onto reality once more. He tore his gaze from Dream, finding yours shortly after. "I need to think."

He began to walk away, headed toward the door to leave it all behind. A tiny huff left you as you sat, bowing your head in defeat.

It was late that night when Alex returned. You hardly realized it was him, laying limply on the ground as you mourned sleep. You didn't remember the last time you shut your eyes and dreamt.

Quiet, slow footsteps approached you, and you perked your ears slightly at the sound. When you felt cold fingers on your fur, you jumped to your feet and backed away, hissing and arching your back violently. Alex sat before you and frowned, his constant sorrow clear on his face as you swatted.

He knelt in front of you, his hands turned up in his lap to show surrender. "I won't hurt you…"

You stayed away but he watched your stance change as you watched him carefully. He moved slowly, his hands reaching toward you. You backed up as far as you could, once again tugging on the chains around your neck as you looked between him and Morpheus rapidly. "I'm not going to hurt you," Alex bid gently as he finally took the chain in his hand.

"Alex," one of the guards tried.

He just shook his head. "Please." The guard went quiet.

You froze and closed your eyes shut, your breath huffing out of your lungs in a fast, thick rhythm.

You heard the click of a lock.

You felt the weight around your neck lessen until it was no more.

Opening your eyes again, you looked over at Alex to see him holding the heavy metal collar in his hands.

You stayed there, still frozen in place as you stared, wide-eyed.

Alex took in the sight of you, grimy with dirt and blood, the fur around your neck thinner and slightly discolored with the rust of the chains. Snow white fur was now mud brown and copper red and mold green. Alex sighed.

He held his hand out again, and you flinched away from him as he tried to set his hands on your head. He dropped it back into his lap.

"I'm sorry…" he breathed. "For all of this. You don't deserve this—neither of you deserves this."

Still, you stayed. Alex could mistake you for a statue if he didn't know better.

"You can go."

"Alex–"

"Please," he said sternly. He turned to you again, "You're free to leave… I'm sorry."

You looked toward Dream, who watched closely. As you stood up straighter, testing the waters with movements slow and measured, you took a small step away. Then another. And then another.

When Alex made no move to stop you, you moved, to the best of your ability, away and toward your dear husband once more. You stared at him, mewing meekly.

You turned to Alex, who gave a regretful frown. You set a paw on the barrier. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry…" he said. "I'm sorry, I can't… I can't let him free, he'll kill us."

You propped up against the barrier, more insistent that time as flares of gold and white kept you from your beloved. You mewled.

Alex took a dragging step backward, shaking his head reluctantly. "No, I… I can't. I can't do it." He swallowed thickly as you got off the barrier and looked at him, meowing again in an attempt to persuade him again. To no avail.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he breathed. He looked down at his feet, avoiding Morpheus' dangerous gaze. "You should leave." Stepping back again, he turned around and left briskly with the shake of his head.

You huffed silently, turning to face your husband again with a sorrowful gaze. He leaned toward you, resting his forehead to the glass as he sighed. His eyes darted to the door and then back at you. You folded your ears back. He did it again, more insistent this time.

Leave, before you get hurt again.

You mewled, sitting to stare at him.

You heard the guards shift behind you, standing from their chairs as they groaned. One of the men spoke, muttering under his breath as though you could not hear him. "Fuck this. He's going to get us all killed." Then, in a lower voice, he whispered, "The Magus said kill it, so I'm going to kill it."

You heard him step forward, and then a protest from the other man. "It's a goddess."

"It's a cat." He scoffed, "Man up."

Dream gave the approaching man a hard glare, hoping to deter him and merely receiving a pause before he was walking again, trying to sneak up on you. Dream gave you a pleading look as you stayed there, staring at him remorsefully.

His lips cracked open and formed a single, silent word coming from deep within his soul as his eyes welled with tears.

Go.

Just as the guard came up behind you, lunging forward in an attempt to bring you into his clutches, you darted away. You ran and you ran and you ran, both men in pursuit as you escaped them with as much speed and strength as your weak body could muster, running on nothing but pain and adrenaline.

As you broke out into the world for the first time in a month, you had no time to smell the fresh air or feel the night sky on your fur. You ran and ran and kept running until you found yourself crossing the threshold of the Waking World and the Dreaming.

"My lady…"

A mumble sounded in your ears, a far away feeling fluttering over you as if your soul and your mind were not attached to your body.

"My lady."

Your awakening was violent, like being awoken by a gunshot or a million trumpets blaring in your ears. You shot up and tried to find steady ground in a world without. You kept slipping, not quite finding a grip on the plane you found yourself in.

"Calm, my lady," a voice beckoned. "Calm."

You looked over to see Lucienne, kneeling beside you with a face deep with worry. You hadn't seen her smile in some time.

You caught your breath, which you only just now realized was aching your lungs. A warm hand grabbed yours and you held on tight as you looked around yourself. Upon setting your sights on a world of black sand and sea, you sighed. Home. You were home.

"My lady," Lucienne's voice called your attention again. You turned toward her again, moving to stand, to brush the sand from your robes.

"What happened to you?"

You followed her gaze to your robes where you met the source of much of her concern. You were covered in dried blood and grime, your skin was discolored from the bruising…

You met her eyes again. "I…"

She sighed and offered a kind smile. "We should get you back to the castle. You've been missed…"

You nodded and walked with her toward the grand entrance of the kingdom. The doors opened, and you stepped through to see the kingdom far darker and far more desolate than you last left it.

You swallowed thickly as you walked with Lucienne, immediately noticing how much the population had dwindled. There were still plenty of Dreams and Nightmares running around, but there were also plenty you were missing.

Upon seeing you, faces lit up all around, deterred only when they soon noticed the tarnishing of your white robes. You kept waking, holding Lucienne's hand as you went.

Once in the shelter of the throne room, you collapsed at the foot of the stairs. You were still recovering, the wound was so fresh…

"My lady!" Lucienne exclaimed, coming to your side once more to sit next to you.

"I'm okay," you assured her, holding out a steady hand.

"What happened?" she asked again, more desperate this time for her queen.

"I…" You sighed to gather your thoughts, closing your eyes for a moment before finally replying. You were not used to talking much.

"I went to the manor again with… with Jessamy." You swallowed thickly. "We had come so close to freeing him but… but they killed her." Your fists clenched as the memory invaded your mind. She watched your face as you recalled it, far off and angry, your fingers brushing blood on your cheek. "They slaughtered her."

Lucienne looked away, the wheels turning in her head as she processed what you'd just told her. Jessamy was gone. She was dead. Lucienne would never see her again…

"I tried to run but they caught me…locked me in the cellar with him and," your eyes shut and you shook your head gently to be rid of the memory, "and abused me to hurt him."

"I'm sorry, my queen," Lucienne spoke gently, bowing her head.

"Burgess is dead."

She looked at you again, her gaze snapping toward you. "Is Lord Morpheus–"

"No." You cleared your throat. "His son let me go but is too afraid of Dream to set him free. I only barely got out before the guards were after me again."

Lucienne looked away thoughtfully, shaking her head in an attempt to take everything in. "My lady…" she sighed. "You should rest. You've been through…a lot."

You cleared your throat, looking at yourself again as you nodded. "Yes, you're right. I should." Again you nodded. "Alright."

You stood to your feet, peeling your robe off of you and standing in your gown. You turned to leave, stopping just at the beginning of a hall before turning toward her again. "Thank you, Lucienne… I missed you deeply."

"Of course, my lady," she smiled gently. You bowed your head in a gentle nod. She softened some more. "I missed you, too, Y/N."

A soft smile widened your lips just a smudge and you nodded again before turning to leave. You locked yourself in your bedroom and prepared your bath, sinking into the hot water and letting it remove the filth from your skin.

It wasn't until you were washed clean that you began to cry again.

It amazed you how quickly war could befall the world of man. How quickly human squabbles could grow into something so devastating.

You would have to leave again. Humanity could not survive without hope; and in a war, you were detrimental to that spark of life.

After taking time to recover—attempting and failing to mend some of the cracks in the Dreaming—you began to go back to the manor again to persuade Alex to set your husband free, to no avail. The guards still tried to hurt you and Morpheus still tried to get you to stop coming back for him.

You wept alone in the woods for a long time as you considered your choice, your duty. You would have to leave him, and you don't know when you'd be back.

You just wanted to see him before you left, to look upon his face without the danger of being shot while you were in a vulnerable form.

As you walked into the house, dodging the residents who walked the halls for work or leisure, your steps were quick and silent as they always had been.

You found him in his study, the door cracked open as if beckoning you. You nudged the door with your body and ventured inside. His back was turned, hunched over his work.

You called his attention with a gentle mewl, looking up with more narrowed eyes. Alex turned and laid eyes on you. For a moment, you could see the flash of fear as he saw you, afraid you were going to hurt him.

But you just stared at him, unblinking and still.

"Hello," he said tentatively. "Um… if this is about him, I… Look, I don't want him here anymore than you do. But if I let him go… he could come after us. He could hurt me or-or Paul. I can't let him." He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry."

You did nothing in response. Alex watched you stare at him. He sighed, "I don't know how to help you."

You turned your attention to a newspaper discarded somewhere in the room. The headline read "SECOND WORLD WAR BREAKS" in big, bold lettering.

His brows furrowed and he set down the pen he'd been holding in his hand. "What?" he asked. "I don't understand."

He heard a tiny huff come from you, frustrated that he hadn't put it together yet. You walked over to the paper, dragged it over to where you were sitting, and tapped on it repeatedly.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Oh."

Now he'd gotten it.

"I…I can't enlist. I wouldn't know the first thing."

You huffed louder this time. You shoved the paper closer and sat on it. You tilted your head expectantly, the closest you could get to a brow raise in this form.

"Oh, you have to go?" You curled your tail. "Of course… It's your job." You laid down, practically sighing your relief.

"Well," he mumbled, "you can go… I'm certainly not keeping you."

You yowled at him, losing your patience with his thick-headedness. You stood and circled your spot, pacing the entirety of the room with senseless noise before stopping at the door and sitting next to it. He felt like a toddler being scolded by a cross mother with the way you "spoke" to him.

He seemed to put it together, at least. "Oh… you want to see him."

You answered his question by walking out of the door. He stood and followed you, walking behind as you led the way to the cellar where your husband was being kept. He opened the creaking door to let you in.

The guards stood quickly at the sight of you, pointing their guns. You paid them no mind as you continued walking. Alex was quick to stop them. "No, don't shoot!" he exclaimed. "It's alright. Let her through."

They were confused by the order, but obeyed nonetheless. They sat back down, half-heartedly continuing their games and light chatter as Alex closed the door and sat by it, watching.

You locked eyes with Morpheus, continuing closer until you were forced to stop by the boundary spell set against you. You sat down and looked up at your husband, taking in the sight of him with sad eyes.

He looked back, seeming to read every single intent in your eyes as you watched one another. After a while, you saw a stray tear slipping down the apple of his cheek as his wet gaze bore into yours.

Your own fur was damp now as a tear slipped from your own eye, a mirror of him. You hated to leave him here, to go to aid in humanity's problems when it was humanity who stole your husband from you. But you knew you couldn't look at it that way. You were hope, and if you lost that in yourself, they would all be doomed.

So for hours you sat and stared at one another silently. For hours you memorized every little detail in Dream's face and imprinted it in your mind.

And all those hours would never be enough as you walked out of that room for the last time in the next ten years of war and recovery.

"How many are there?"

Lucienne walked at your side as you ventured slowly down the bridge leading to the palace. The realm's various colors and lusters had dulled. The stoney bridge was dark and desolate, cracking at the edges with patches of eroded rock. The fingers which curled around the bridge were deformed, a couple have fallen off and descended into the waters below.

You ran your hand over one with a sigh and the shake of your head. "Nearly half the residents have left since last you were here, ma'am," Lucienne reported.

"Half?" You turned to her with wide eyes, "Half the residents are gone?"

She nodded, "They feared you weren't returning either. If the Queen Mother leaves and the King isn't here to rule, there's no reason to stay. They felt as though the Dreaming was…an abandoned kingdom."

"They know about the war," you argued feebly. "They know it is my duty to tend to the humans in their times of need."

"And some went looking for you to aid so that they might bring you back when the job is done," she said. She blinked a few times and turned her gaze to the floor. "But…"

"But?" you urged.

"Others weren't so sure."

You shook your head and sighed, continuing to walk faster down the bridge to get to the palace. The closer to the palace you got, the more Dreams and Nightmares you spotted. They must have been fleeing the outskirts of the crumbling realm where it was most dangerous. Upon your entry, you saw how much had been destroyed by their king and queen's absence.

"And what of the realm?" You said, going to some of the residents who approached you, relief in their faces. You gave a kind smile and cradled their grasps.

"The palace is the most intact thing there is. But the cracks are larger and many of the rooms have been closed off or have completely disappeared. Half the books in the library are either empty or their words are dissolving off the pages. Towns and villages have been abandoned. It's hardly safe for anyone anymore."

You set your hand against the castle doors, bowing your head and sighing before turning back to your faithful librarian. "Move the Dreams who have lost their homes into the palace. Those remaining may come as well at their leisure."

"Of course, my lady. Shall I gather the remaining books and search for any spells to free–"

"Magic won't work," you said, pushing open the doors to get to the throne room. You sat on the steps leading up to Dream's throne, your robe splaying out over the stairs. Lucienne could see the blue skies replaced with grey clouds darker than she last saw them.

"I've tried a hundred times and then another hundred times over." You set your face in your hands, "I have no power in that house, much less that cellar, while he's locked up as he is. He's trapped in, and I'm trapped out."

Lucienne thought for a moment, reaching a hand out in offering. "Well, hope–"

"Hope took three years last time. It will take longer this time. I can't do another gods-knows-how-long away from him," you said. You swallowed hard, wiping your face in your hand and urging the frustration out of you. "I haven't even seen him yet. I came straight here."

Lucienne tried to say something to help, but she had nothing. She shook her head, taking a step back. "I don't know what to do, my lady."

"Neither do I."

There was a long silence between the both of you as you thought about your next course of action. Your mind was slow, hazy from a decade of nonstop work. You could hardly think straight with ten years of no real sleep… well, longer than that without your Dream.

You sighed and stood to your feet. "I will rest for now. I need my strength. Tomorrow… I will call forth the Fates."

Lucienne's eyes widened in protest as she heard your plan. She stepped forward again, "The Fates? Are you sure that is a wise decision?"

"It's my last hope, Lucienne."

She paused at the desperation in her voice, bowing her head again as she let a sigh pass through her lips. She straightened her back and nodded once, her worry clear across her face. "Very well."

You walked through a meadow of flowers and fields, looking over the rising sun as the golden light gleamed against your skin. You stood there for another moment, taking in a deep breath of the fresh dew-filled air.

You shed your robe and began to shake it, wishing away the grey skies and dark clouds to bag the rising sun in your cloak with one grand sweep across the sky. As you set the robe back over your shoulders, you examined the symphony of pinks and yellows and blues with a gentle smile.

Sunrises and sets were promises of rebirth and new beginnings for every day and for every night, a promise of new hope. It was what the Fates required.

You swept your robes again and took to the skies, appearing upon a little cottage where wind chimes rang peacefully in the gusts of morning air. Since one could call upon the Fates with the coming of the wind, you could pluck the chimes from the porch to offer to them. It was what the Fates required.

With two of three items collected, you could move on to the final prize.

You stood in another meadow, one erupting with more colorful growth than the last as a cacophony of flowers fluttered with the kisses of butterfly wings. You looked over the creatures with smiles before opening your robes. They swarmed around you in moments, disappearing in flocks of color into the sunrise in your cloak. Butterflies were symbols of transformation and hope throughout time. It was what the Fates required.

You let your robes fall over your form again, turning toward one of the trees. There are chrysalises hanging onto a branch, cocooned in their catalysts. You wrapped your fingers around it, filling it with a piece of your magic before breaking it off the tree. You brushed your finger over one of the leaves and set the branch back in your coat.

And again, you were gone. As you set your feet over the growth of a field of black grass, you looked around for a moment.

"I, Lady Y/N, Goddess of Hope and Transformation, summon The Fates...the Three-Who-Are-One, the One-Who-Is-Three. The Hecate."

A rumble of thunder rolled in the sky as you directed your gaze. A strike of lightning flashed before you saw them. You could still hear the faint melody of the wood chimes as you laid eyes upon the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone.

They descended their gazes upon you as they took you in for the first time in many, many years.

"Y/N…" the Mother began, "How have you been, luvvy?"

The Maiden added, "How're the humans treating you?"

"How's the husband treating you?" the Crone asked.

"Now, sister-self," the Mother scolded with a smile on her face. "You know the answer to that."

The Crone chuckled lightly, turning back to you as she tilted her head, "I suppose you've come for your husband?"

You smiled, despite the annoyance you felt for her jest. "Surprise," you said. "Ever the wisest."

"What is it, dear?" the Maiden kindly inquiried.

You nodded gently. "I do hope you can offer the help I require."

"Well, what are we here for?" The Mother grinned, holding her hands out between her sister-selves.

"We do, it seems," the Maiden began, "hold a debt…"

"But you brought us gifts anyway." The Crone's smile seemed always shifty to you as she pointed her eyes toward your cloak.

You directed your smile toward her, opening your robes and allowing your gifts to jump out, offering them up to the Fates. The butterflies swarmed chaotically around the women, curling around the forms, until they settled in the Maiden's skin with their butterfly kisses.

The sunrise slipped from your robes and seeped into the sky like a great painting. The last butterfly landed against the Maiden's nose, fluttering its wings before laying them flat against her face. It seeped into her cheeks, the patterns of its wings turning into freckles against her skin.

The Mother smiled, "You may ask us three questions, and you shall have one answer from each of us."

"Thank you, ladies," you smiled. "My first question. My husband has been trapped for 33 years, will he be free?"

A vision of Dream in his captivity flashed before you as the Maiden's voice filled your ears.

"Lord Morpheus will walk freely again upon the Dreaming and the Earth." You watched Dream's eyes open, his intense gaze glinting back at you. "You will see your husband free again, his captivity is not an eternal one."

You turned back to her, desperation filling you all-too suddenly. "When?"

"Come now, dear," she chuckled. "One question. You know this."

"Of course," you sighed, offering a smile. "My apologies. For my second question, I need to know: is there a spell that I could use to set him free?"

You saw visions of the gold bindings trapping your husband, the spell you analyzed over and over again to try and come up with a counter-spell, all in vain.

The Mother spoke, "The magic set against you is strong. Unfortunately, it's strong enough to thwart your temperament, even with how powerful you are."

You sighed and shook your head. "Of course," you mumbled. You straightened your back again, "For my last question… The Dreaming is crumbling, how can I save it without my husband's power?"

The meadow you had just come from combined with the sunrise you collected in your robe. Butterflies flew around you as they perched on the flowers in the field.

"You are a symbol of hope and change," the Crone said. "To maintain the Dreaming's powers, hearts must have hope and minds must be changed."

Straight to the point, as always.

You offered a smile, nodding gently. "Thank you, dear Fates."

They tilted their heads, chuckling lightly. "Until next time, lady goddess."

They left you to a sunset, a couple of butterflies flitting around the space as you pulled the branch from your robes. "That was helpful," you muttered, cradling the branch.

"Well," Lucienne walked forward, her hands behind her back, "the Fates have never been the most helpful beings." You sighed, handing the cocoons to Lucienne. "What about these?" she questioned as she held them in a tender grip.

"Those were not for the Fates." You walked with her by your side. "These are for the Dreaming. The people need hope." You looked at her, "If they survive as the Dreaming falls, we shall have it."

Too many years had passed since your husband was captured. Alex still refused to let him go until he promised not to do them harm. You could not do anything to help. You just stalled around the house in hopes of stumbling upon an answer. It was the only thing that seemed to be worth it.

Nearly all the residents of the Dreaming were gone. As the world crumbled, so did their last hope that you or Dream would come through.

The cocoons never hatched. They sat idly by in the castle. You were clinging to the words the Fates had told you as a century without Morpheus passed.

"You will see your husband free again…"

It was the last hope you had left. You couldn't give up.

You sat under the crumbling ceiling of the castle, your head resting against your arms as you pulled your legs to your chest.

It had been a particularly hard day for you. You walked along the Dreaming, taking in the new damage and found that your decaying garden had disappeared completely. It was one of the only things that had remained mostly intact, something you and Morpheus had built together after you were married. Now it was gone.

You were fading, your last ounce of hope shriveling up like your garden. Your tears stained your sleeves as you wiped your face, sniffling quietly.

But then you felt a strange shift in the air that made you feel… something. A feeling akin to pure elation.

You flew back to the Waking World with a speed you hadn't breached in a very long time. You nearly stumbled onto your feet when you shifted again, taking off running toward the manor as you felt the pull growing quickly.

The humans who spotted you in the hall weren't paid nearly as much to care, it seemed, as they let you pass without more protest than a little call of annoyance.

You rushed into the cellar, hissing at the guns pointed at you. Their attention was stolen as glass shattered, a bright shine blinding the guards as they shielded their hands, shouting over the howling of the wind.

Morpheus climbed out of the remains of the dome, lean body maneuvering easily. "Oi! Show me your hand!" One of the guards yelled as Dream balled his fist.

He raised his hand to his face and took a deep breath. A gust of sand flew out from his hand, surrounding the guards in his magic. They fell to the ground as sleep overtook them.

You stood there, eyes wide, chest rising and falling out of breath as you gazed at him. You shifted, a soft glow emanating from your body as your white robes settled over your body once more.

"Morpheus," you whispered, eyes glistening with tears full of rejoice.

The smile that took his face was utterly breathtaking. He held a hand to you, beckoning you closer with his own tear-filled eyes.

"My love."

You rushed into his arms. As soon as your bodies collided, his own dark robes materialized over his. He held you closely, practically crushing you to his chest as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. His hand cradled the back of your head as you huffed out a long, shuddering breath at the feeling of finally holding your husband again.

He pulled you closer still, swaying gently as you enveloped him in all your warmth and love. "At long last," he breathed, nestling deeper into your neck.

"My husband," you sighed as you allowed your tears to freely spill. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry I could not set you free. I tried so hard, it never worked."

"Shh," he whispered. He pulled you back to look at you. "Do not fret anymore, my darling wife." His voice washed over you like honey, soothing you as you finally heard it for the first time in over a century. You melted against him.

"I have something I must do before we return," he breathed, cradling your head still before leaning in and pressing his lips to your forehead, his eyes closed shut and his heart full. "Wait for me?"

You nodded, pulling away from him and cradling his face in your hands. You brushed your thumbs over his cheeks, under his bottom lashes. How wonderful it felt to have him in your hands again. You brought him back down to your forehead and nodded a second time. "Always."

His tangible form slipped in your hands, and you turned to look at the cellar you would soon be abandoning forever. You knelt down next to the two guards lying on the floor, lost in a terrible dream, you assumed. Laying your fingers against their foreheads, you pressed against their temples as you exercised your will, a will you would soon place upon the rest of the house.

You would not kill those who worked under Burgess, but you could not let them roam free for what they did to you, to your husband. They'd stripped you of so much over the last century, the very fiber of your being brought into question with the creeping slivers of doubt that you would never see Morpheus free again.

That was what you would do. Replicate the hurt, the lost, the pain and suffering. As you let the heartbreak of the last century consume you, it embedded itself in the house like a plague, seeping into every corner and taking over every life that they would be cursed to be without hope for as long as they lived.

And when Morpheus returned to his last deal of business with Alexander Burgess, he took your hand and returned with you to the Dreaming.

"Morpheus," you whispered, cradling his head in your lap as he lay in the black sand. "My love, wake up."

You heard shuffling in the sand and looked up as you saw Lucienne rushing over. "Sir!" She exclaimed. "Sir!"

You beamed as you beckoned her closer. She knelt down in the sand beside him. She offered her hand as he took in a breath, his eyes slowly cracking open to reveal the both of you.

"Sir, it's me," she smiled. "It's Lucienne."

He smiled, slow and soft as he saw her, his faithful librarian. "Lucienne."

"You're home," she beamed, looking between the two of you as you lay there, finally reunited.

"I am." He grabbed her hand as the both of you helped him to his feet. He looked toward the doors which lead to his kingdom, his realm of dreams. He raised his hand, willing them to open and reveal what lay beyond them.

You could feel a pit in your stomach rising at the idea of him seeing what his realm had become. You took his hand, squeezing it gently and looking at him with pleading eyes. "Dream…"

He tilted his head, turning to you as he placed his free hand against your cheek. "What is it?" he asked gently.

Before you could reply, Lucienne was speaking for you. "Forgive me, sir, but… the realm, the palace," she said, "...they are not as you left them."

He turned his head and looked upon his desolate realm as the gates finally opened to reveal it to him, a kingdom turned to ash and rubble. Silence and despair stuck to every corner, every dark shadow cast over the land.

"What happened here?" he breathed sorrowfully. "Who did this?"

You sighed heavily, shaking your head as you stared at the perishing castle. "We tried. I tried to stop it, but I wasn't strong enough…"

Lucienne spoke up again, "My lord, you are the Dreaming, the Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were, the realm began to… decay and crumble."

"When I first returned two years after you'd been taken, there were only a few cracks in the foundation. It took three years to mend myself," you began, kneeling down beside a few stray blades of grass that drooped low with scarce life. "When I left for the second time… nearly half the realm had been destroyed."

He took in this information with a frown, his eyes pricking with tears at what he learned. "And the residents? The palace staff?"

Lucienne sighed, "I'm afraid most have gone."

"Gone?"

"Some went looking for you, sir. Some looked for your lady while she was away at war, and then off again when she was caught by Burgess."

"And the others?"

"They thought, perhaps," she tread lightly with her words, "you'd grown weary of your duties and–"

"What?" Morpheus questioned, unbelieving of such an idea. "Abandoned them? Had they so little faith in me, even with my wife here to uphold it? Do my own subjects not know me?"

Lucienne jumped in, adjusting the glasses on the tip of her nose to sit further on the bridge. "If I may, sir. It wouldn't be the first time one of the Endless had just–"

"Enough."

"Morpheus," you whispered, taking his hand again.

"I will not have Dreams and Nightmares preying on the Waking World," he declared. "I will bring them all back. I made this realm once, Lucienne. I will make it again."

He began his trek through the realm as the both of you lingered at the door. You shared a look with your librarian, taking her offered arm and walking with her behind him.

During the walk, you watched as Morpheus' hand flexed at his side, like it was hurting him. He glanced over his shoulder at you, a gleam in his eyes that made your heart jump in your chest. You stepped forward again and took his hand, pressing yourself into his side. Oh, how good it felt to be within his embrace.

You finally managed to steal him away for a moment to have him to yourself. You pulled him into the hall, holding his hand tightly. Despite the grimness of his surroundings, your presence alone seemed to put a smile on his face—a sad smile, but a smile nevertheless.

You looked back at him over your shoulder, seeing his lovestruck grin as he watched you. You paused in front of a door, hand on the handle, and chuckled lightly. The kingdom was crumbling, but you would always be as radiant as the sun.

"What?" you wondered aloud.

He stepped forward and into your personal space—not that it ever existed with him. He took your face in his hands and stroked his thumbs over your cheeks. You grabbed his wrists, returning the favor over his pulse. You smiled longingly at him.

"I've missed you dearly," he breathed against your lips.

You sighed, "And I, you." Your smile fell slightly as you stared into his star-filled eyes. "I'm sorry for not taking better care of the Dreaming. I could have avoided this."

He shook his head to silence you, leaning in even closer without yet pressing his lips to yours. "You did not disappoint me. You had nothing to do with any of this. I know you did everything within your power with Lucienne to fix this. Do not place blame where none is due. You are alright, my Y/N."

How you've missed his voice as he spoke to you in his low, velvety tones. His eyes glistened like magical waters, as if they were ponds swimming with stars.

"Will you kiss me, Dream?" you asked, gaze glued to his own.

He smiled, his eyes shifting between yours and your parted lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you close. His lips molded against yours and consumed you with love and care and hope. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you tasted his kiss for the first time in over a century.

The both of you pulled away, lingering so close that all it would take was a little nudge, and you'd be kissing him again. Your lips tingled as you slowly allowed your eyes to open. He stared at you longingly.

"I love you," he spoke breathlessly, as if it was taking his entire soul to say those words to you, and even that wasn't enough.

You beamed, and it was like an arrow to the heart as he watched your beauty unfold. "I love you, too," you told him. "More than you truly know."

He leaned in to kiss you once again, only giving pause when you both heard the sound of the door clicking open. You turned your head toward the door next to you, setting your hand on the knob. While he would normally stop you, afraid of you being hurt, this was his realm. Broken or not, nothing here would harm you.

You pushed it open slowly, only to yelp when a strange swarm burst from the door. You looked around you at the kaleidoscope of butterflies surrounding the two of you as he held you close. You both stared in awe as the beautiful creatures flapped their gorgeous wings about you.

"They hatched," you gasped. "They've been dormant for nearly eighty years, and they hatched." You sighed, watching them. "They're beautiful." You stared at the butterflies, eyes wide with wonder. Morpheus' gaze turned back to you, gluing onto the star-struck smile on your face.

Never, throughout all his lives, had he ever seen anything with more beauty than his darling wife. Sometimes he felt like a thief when he thought of you, like he'd stolen you all for himself so he would never have to share with the rest of the world. Never once did he ever feel ashamed by it. Because you were his, and he was yours, and he loved you more than anything in every world.

His face softened, and his eyes glittered with gentle tears. "Yes," he breathed. "Beautiful."

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren2498 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus fanfic #morpheus fanfiction #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x fem!reader #dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fanficiton #the sandman #the sandman x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #reader insert

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

wasteland, baby! ; morpheus.

track fourteen of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; morpheus x bast!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; morpheus followed you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal.

words ; 6.3k

themes ; angst, fluff, egyptian mythology, bast au

warnings / includes ; reader is based on the egyptian goddess bastet, starts before the events of the show but ends right at the beginning, heavy angst, death of an unborn baby (not reader's), blood/injury/pregnancy (again, not reader), allusions to sex, mentions of the other sandman characters, mentions of other egyptian gods, khonshu is your half-brother, dream is the epitome of (-_-), they love each other lots <3 perhaps i'll write a part two to this !!

main masterlist.

She was dying.

There was raw terror within her eyes—uncertain of what was happening to her. She was young—far too young to die, but it seemed that Destiny had other plans for her beyond life.

With gentle movements, you shifted into view, greeting her with a soft beam and kind eyes.

“Do not be afraid. I’ll protect you,” you whispered in their plucking human language. One of your hands extended towards hers, slick with her own blood. “It’s time, darling.”

The faded blue of her eyes warbled. A hot tear meandered down her grimy cheek.

“Can I say goodbye? I… my children…” The words caught in her throat upon seeing your apologetic expression. With a resolute nod, she took your hand, and you helped her spirit onto her feet.

Once she was up, she glanced at her physical body on the ground. “Can you keep my children away from the body? I don’t… I don’t want them to see me like that.”

A protest was on the tip of your tongue, but upon seeing her pleading expression, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Your expression faltered, softening. “I’ll do what I can,” you reassured her, offering a small smile.

And as you guided the petrified woman’s spirit across the threshold between the realm of the living and the Sunless Lands, you let go of her hand, and she began walking into the next part of her journey. You observed for a minute longer, brow creased with worry. That had always been a weakness of yours—you cared too much for the mortals and often found yourself attached. Though, perhaps, affection was not a weakness, but a defining trait of who you were. It was what made you their protector, after all.

The feeling of an unfamiliar presence appearing beside you jarred you out of your thoughts. You turned to see one of Death’s siblings staring straight at you, eyes boring into your very soul.

“What are you doing?” he asked, rather bluntly. His voice was deep and honeyed, soaked in sea water and nestled within the richest of soils. You found yourself blanching at his sudden question, unsure if you’d done something to offend him. He certainly looked offended. Or perhaps that was just the way he always was. “This is Death’s job,” said Dream.

After a considerably long pause, you tilted your head at him. “Death is busy at the moment. I am merely helping her guide souls into the afterlife. I’m a God to them—a protector—the humans, they call me Bast. But my friends call me Y/N.”

Morpheus’ expression remained ever unchanging. He dipped his head, suddenly all the closer to you. You blinked at him with wide eyes—eyes that Morpheus refused to meet. Stoic, he spoke once more, “Do you know where my older sister is?”

“She’s dealing with affairs in Hell. Lucifer has stirred up quite a bit of trouble, I’ve heard,” you told him, pursing your lips at the thought of the devil wreaking havoc in the underworld. “What do you need her for? Perhaps I could help—?”

With naught a sound, Dream brandished a pouch from his dark, draping coat, and disappeared in a flurry of sand and dust. You stepped away with a grimace, waving the particulates away from your face.

“Rude,” you huffed as you brushed sand off your shoulder.

She was hurt.

There was a long, jagged gash splitting her shin open. A pool of dark ichor formed around her leg and soaked into the hardened earth. You stood over her, your chest constricting.

She couldn’t see you, but you knelt down beside her anyways, murmuring a protective incantation, gently running your fingers over her wound. A soft golden glow appeared over the cut, before slowly disappearing. The injury wasn’t completely healed, but you’d made sure it wouldn’t get infected by warding away any diseases and bacteria.

The woman wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and found a cloth to bind the gash shut.

You tilted your head, smiling down at her, before stepping away.

This time, the presence of the Dream Lord wasn’t as much of a shock to you, but still a surprise nonetheless.

“Dream,” you greeted, eyes brightening when you turned to see him. He looked just the same, though not nearly as sour as last time. “What brings you here?”

“The girl you were helping,” he said, slow and cautious, “she’s been dreaming of you.”

Warmth seeped through your form at his words. A grin etched itself beautifully across your lips. “I’ve been watching over her since she was a young child. Her name is Nubia—gold in their language. She saved a family of kittens from drowning in a river when she was merely nine years of age. And me being a God of cats and all—she’s earned herself a special place in my heart. I don’t often show myself to mortals, but I have with her, on occasion.”

Morpheus regarded you with a shielded expression, but it was evident that he was curious in you and your endeavors.

“What do I do in her dreams?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Morpheus seemed unbothered by this, slowly tilting his head to sweep his gaze anywhere but you.

Perhaps it was a trick of the hot Egyptian sunlight, but you could’ve sworn the beginnings of a smile traced over the corner of Morpheus’ mouth. “You do the very same in her dreams as you do in the living world. You help people. You are kind to them.”

Stunned, you let your eyes travel back to the sweet girl you’ve grown so fond of, who was rinsing the blood away from her leg.

“Why?” asked the Dream Lord. It was a tentative question, so simple yet would never have a clear answer.

You glanced back to him, finding his piercing blue irises fixed on you, hardened and stormy as the sea.

“Why what?” you replied, knowing full and well what he was asking, but wanting to goad him on. You rather enjoyed speaking to him. He was a mystery to you—and you loved mysteries.

Dream was silent for a long moment. It had you briefly wondering if he’d just chosen to completely ignore your retaliating question.

Finally, he asked his in return, voice thick and viscous, as if his throat were laced with honey. “Why do you show the mortals such kindness?”

“Because I love them,” you told him simply, an elegant smile gracing your features. “They are beautiful beings, and I wish them nothing but happiness and peace. It brings me joy to be their protector.”

Morpheus didn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you said. How could one as eternal and powerful as you love such simple and fleeting life? Despite his evident turmoil, he remained silent.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you said, brushing past him with a hand on his shoulder. Morpheus stiffened beneath your touch, and you were quick to draw yourself away from him, not wanting to anger one of the Endless. Desire had once gotten angry with you centuries ago, and that hadn’t gone down well. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of such events. “I have other duties to attend to. I hope to see you again, Dream.”

Morpheus dipped his head in farewell. From your peripheral vision, you saw him disappear in another whirl of sand. You shook your head in amusement, before heading off to help another precious soul in need.

She was heartbroken.

There were scalding tears dripping down her sunken cheeks, following the curve of her jaw, and falling from her chin onto her blanket. Sobs wracked her skeletal form, and there was a pallid color to her skin, as if completely drained of energy. You watched from beside her bed, feeling thorns crowd about your heart at the sight. You sensed great despair rolling off of her in large tidal waves, nearly overwhelming you into the same feeling.

Morpheus was there, you knew, but you had yet to speak to him. He’d been following you for a while, silent as the night, merely watching as you went about your day helping women, children, and people alike. It seemed that he’d taken a keen interest in you and your duties as a protector of the mortals.

“This is the doing of a man,” you said to him without turning around, anger clouding your expression. “She professed her love to him and he did nothing but scoff. He scoffed at her, Dream. I mean, look at her—she’s beautiful and she’s kind and she’s so very intelligent. Men certainly are the bane of my existence.”

When you finally turned your head, you were surprised to see Morpheus right beside you, not having registered him stepping closer.

He had his eyes trained on the weeping woman. “She is tired,” he observed calmly.

A soft sigh fell from your lips. “She hasn’t slept a wink in three days. The poor thing has been doing nothing but lament over this buffoon of a man. I’ve tried consoling her in many ways, but her grief is strong. She loved him very much—though I can’t quite understand why.”

“Perhaps,” said Morpheus, pulling out a pouch that you were now well acquainted with, “all she needs is a bit of rest. Three days is far too long for a mortal to go without slumber.”

With that, he blew a fistful of sand into the crying woman’s face, and her raucous sobs began to subside, and eventually slowed down to deep, rhythmic breathing.

You looked to the Dream Lord, a grateful smile to your eyes. “Thank you.” As ever, he stared ahead and nodded, avoiding looking at you.

With fleeting, soft touches, you gently shifted the woman so she wasn’t curled in an awkward position and wouldn’t wake up with aches all over. You laid her back against the bed’s springy mattress and adjusted her head onto the feather pillow. The pads of your thumbs gently wiped her tears away, and you murmured a quiet protective enchantment to keep her safe through the night.

“Come along now,” you told Morpheus, getting up and striding out the door.

He looked at you, finally, mild confusion painting over his features.

“You’ve been following me all day,” you said, a laugh caught in the back of your throat. “I have much to show you.”

There was a twitch to his jaw, as if he wanted to say something. But still, he remained mute, before striding forward to join you by your side.

She was sick.

There was an unusual murmur to her heart, disrupting an otherwise perfect beat. It broke your own to realize that Death would be coming to visit her soon. You could only hope that the journey to the Sunless Lands would be kind to her.

With little else you could do for the beautiful, sickly girl, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a stray, wiry curl of hair away from her face, softened with sleep. Your kiss made her stop twitching and sweating so badly, and you were glad you could lessen her suffering in some way, even if it was minute.

You weren’t at all shocked to see Morpheus behind you when you turned, and you crossed your arms with a teasing grin. It’d been several decades—nearly a century—of constant visits from him, and you weren’t ashamed to say that you’d grown very fond of him.

“Why, if it isn’t Dream of the Endless,” you greeted, taking a step closer to him, so that he was forced to look at you, and no longer avoid eye contact. The blue of his irises seemed even sharper up close. “Is there something you need this time, or are you here to follow me again?”

There was a crack to his stoic facade, a small smile whittling into his expression. A thrill spidered up your spine.

“I’m intrigued by you,” he finally professed, albeit still guarded and wary, even after all this time.

Much to his surprise, you reacted fairly lightly to his statement, throwing your head back as peals of laughter fell from your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Dream of the Endless, intrigued in me? It’s truly an honor,” you said, slightly breathless. Morpheus carefully watched the way you beamed so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.

Dream hesitated for a moment before saying his next words. “Come with me.”

You faltered for a moment. “What? Where?”

“The Dreaming,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.

You blinked at him owlishly. “Your kingdom?”

“Yes,” he said, already drawing out his pouch of sand. “I’ve seen what you do on Earth. Now I want you to see what I do in my realm.”

“They’re beautiful,” you said, watching in awe as Morpheus fashioned dreams and nightmares out of thin air, brow creased ever so slightly in concentration. Bits of earth and bone and something far more ethereal floated around him as he assembled the pieces—creating an entirely new being.

Dipping his head graciously, Morpheus stepped away from his craft, still in progress.

“Come,” he said, without a glance to you. “I shall finish this later. I have much else to show you.”

He took you to see the House of Mystery, also known as Cain’s home. There was a sweet gargoyle there—Gregory, his name was, and he seemed rather fond of you, constantly nipping at your ankles and grunting in delight when you tossed a ball over for him to catch. Morpheus watched from afar, with only but a shadow of a fond smile gracing his face. He took you to the House of Secrets as well, and introduced you to Abel, who was ever so kind and refused to allow you to leave without drinking a fruity, nectarous tea first.

The two of you strolled through the Dreaming for a while after that, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. More accurately, you’d be the one animatedly telling stories and Dream would listen with a fond glint to his gaze. Dreams and nightmares alike stared at the two of you, partially because they’d rarely ever seen their King out and about, much less with somebody, and also because they were merely curious to know who you were.

After, he brought you to the library and introduced you to Lucienne and Mervyn—the former a spectacled librarian and the latter a pumpkin-headed janitor with a cigar wedged within his mouth, who both seemed pleasantly surprised to see Morpheus bring in a guest.

“There will be a celebration in the Dreaming tonight,” said Dream, quiet and contemplative. Then, he looked at you, and this time, you were sure it wasn’t a trick of light—he smiled at you. It was small and fleeting, but you’d caught it nonetheless. “Seeing as Y/N is a God of celebration, joy, fire, and music—have all those ready for our guest, Mervyn.”

“Yessir,” the pumpkin coughed out a plume of smoke, before saluting with two gloved fingers, and strode away with his hands shoved into his overalls.

Once Mervyn left in a hurry, you turned to Morpheus, eyes wide. “Dream, really, you don’t have to throw a party or anything for me, you’ve been more than kind enough—”

“I am merely repaying you for all you’ve done for mankind,” said the Endless, which made you step back just a bit in shock. “I must deal with some private matters—feel free to stay as long as you want—you are now a welcome guest in the Dreaming.”

“I… okay, thanks, Dream,” you said, trying your hardest to contain your excitement.

He nodded, before turning on his heel and marching out of the library.

Shelving the books in her arms, Lucienne interrupted the silence with, “There hasn’t been a celebration in the Dreaming in centuries.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“None at all. In fact, this is the happiest I’ve seen him in quite a long time. You’ve really done a number on him,” said the librarian, regarding you with a curious look.

“This is him happy?” you gasped, feeling bad for laughing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to see him angry, then.”

Lucienne scoffed at the thought. “Oh, I doubt it. He’s taken quite a liking to you.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to reply with a coherent response, but found your tongue void of one. Morpheus liked you? All this time, you were only assuming that he was just tolerating you—interested, perhaps, at the very most.

“Well, I’ll see you at the party, then,” said Lucienne, finding your stunned expression mildly amusing. She sent you a kind smile. “Let me know if you need assistance with anything.”

Not even three hours later, the castle was brilliantly lit with floating candles and dewy bubbles that emitted hazy, multi-hued light. There was upbeat music echoing throughout the expansive chambers, a rich accompaniment of wind instruments and chiming bells and thrumming beats of drums—though none of said instruments were anywhere to be found. Along with that, there was a large variety of snacks and nibbles arranged on a long, intricately designed table, including dates, cheese, and buttery pastries that practically melted in your mouth. Golden chalices overflowing with wines and honeyed ales alike were passed around like a contagious flu. The castle was packed, dreams and nightmares and gods (yes, even some that you recognized—Dionysus drunkenly greeted you with a hug and a slap to the back) were milling here and there chattering excitedly. From what you gathered whilst mingling with everybody else at the party, the entire ordeal was huge—evidently, Morpheus wasn’t quite the partying type. It came as a shock to everybody when they received prompt invitations to the castle.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t seen him at all since the celebration commenced. Which was strange, considering he was the one that set it all up in the first place.

“My, my, my, aren’t you a beauty? Have we not crossed paths just hours before, Lord Bastet?” a nightmare purred into your ear, roping you out of your thoughts. His name was Corinthian, one of the many that Morpheus had introduced to you on your little tour through his realm. You turned around, a flirtatious grin to your lips, hooded eyes flickering over to meet a pair of black shades. You were well aware that Morpheus would most definitely not be pleased with you seducing one of his nightmares, but he wasn’t even here at his own party, so you didn’t quite see a problem. “No wonder the Dream Lord’s gone full out—he’s aiming to win somebody over, ain’t he?”

A hum fell from you, and you stepped forward, cocking your head. “Do you always speak in questions, my sweet Nightmare?”

“Only works if you answer them, doesn't it?” he retorted, a handsome grin to his features. Corinthian was well aware that you were flirting around with him and had no issues with reciprocating the energy, but he also knew that it was all fun and games—nothing serious. Besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on getting in between whatever it is that Morpheus and you had going on.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Speaking of—do you know where he is? Don’t get me wrong, he’s thrown a splendid celebration—and this is coming from the God of celebrations—but I do have to admit that it puts a damper on the mood if the host himself doesn’t make an appearance.”

A laugh rolled off of Corinthian’s tongue. “Why don’t you turn around, darlin’?”

When you did, you were met with the sight of the Dream King, draped in his long coat, hair as scraggly as ever. He was watching the two of you with a sharp gaze, jaw squared. Though he let little slip past his guarded features, you were beginning to read him very well. He wasn’t angry, no—in fact, he was amused, but was furiously trying to hide it. “I’m pleased my presence matters so much to you, Y/N.”

You bit down on your lip to stave away your growing grin. “You’re late to the party.”

“I wanted to allow you space to enjoy it,” he graciously said. “The rest of my subjects would hardly speak to you freely if I was glued by your side.”

“True,” you admitted. “Though, I wouldn’t really mind being stuck to you.”

Morpheus offered no reaction to your words, save for a glimmer of mirth behind the blue of his honed irises.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked quietly, barely audible over the raucous upswing of the celebration.

Feeling bold tonight, you could only sidle closer to him, the cold golden jewelry of your party attire brushing against the very front lapels of his dark coat. Morpheus’ gaze flitted downward, soaking you in your entirety, before returning back to your face just as quickly. “You threw a party in my name and disappeared without a trace! Of course I was waiting for you, Dream.”

For a moment, Dream had the gall to appear mildly apologetic. He didn’t seem to mind that you were much closer now, watching the way your searching eyes reflected the fires of the floating candles, like burning stars within the vast galaxy. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, then.”

“Nothing a couple drinks can’t remedy,” you assured him, about to reach out to grasp his hand and pull him to a table of self-refilling refreshments, before hesitating and pulling your hand back.

Whistling loudly, Corinthian suddenly pulled both of your attentions away from each other. If you had to be completely honest, you’d nearly forgotten that he was there. In fact, you’d nearly forgotten there were hundreds of other beings in the room. He was grinning wolfishly, hands propped on his hips. “Well, aren’t you two a swell pair of lovebirds? It was lovely meeting you, eh, Bast? Take care of dear old Dream, will you?”

You waved him away with a grin before he sauntered off into the crowd, disappearing amongst a throng of boisterous dreams.

The party had waned away to a couple of drunken gods (which took about a pond’s worth of fluid to get them to such a state) stumbling about in the halls, and a few straggling nightmares still trying to squeeze out the last remnants of the party. Everybody else had gone back to their respective homes or realms, exhausted and in need of a long rest.

Much to your delight, Morpheus hadn’t left your side once the entire night. He stuck by you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal. However, you found that he’d been right—nearly all of his subjects that had initially been so friendly to you were now intimidated by their creator stonily staring them down. It was worth it, though. You liked Morpheus’ company, even if it was mostly silent and warded people away. Lucienne, however, practically immune to Morpheus’ temperament, spoke to you for a lengthy amount of time about the most interesting books she’s come across in her library, and you made her promise to lend copies to you whenever you returned for your next visit. Morpheus seemed to just barely smile when you mentioned that you were keen on returning to his realm.

You’ve spent far too much time away from the living realm, and you wanted to return back to your duties, you really did—but you were finding it hard to say goodbye to Dream. Especially when he was watching you with such attractive, hooded eyes.

Had his eyes been like that the entire time, or was he just looking at you like that now that the two of you were alone, in front of his bedroom? How in the world did you get up here without realizing?

“What is it like? To have your subjects love you?” asked Morpheus, nearly startling you out of your dazed reverie.

The question was an unexpected one, but you were quick to respond nonetheless. “It is perhaps the best part of serving them. I do not exist without them. I am nothing without them—and for that, I am grateful.”

Morpheus dipped his head, as if in thought.

“The humans have named you a God of many things, because they love you so,” he said. “Is it not tiring to juggle so many conflicting duties at once?”

“It’s not tiring at all. I like a bit of variety in my work. And I love them just as much for it, if not more—after all, I am a God of infatuation,” you replied, lips slanting up at him.

Something changed within his scrutiny. It was minute, but you still noticed it. His jaw relaxed just a bit, and he angled his face to better look at you. Suddenly, your first few meetings where he had completely refused to meet your gaze whatsoever felt so very long ago. Not at all subtly, Morpheus’ stormy eyes glossed down to your lips, which were just slightly parted with want.

Your breath hitched within your throat.

Emboldened, you spoke again, voice an octave lower. “I am also a God of pleasure.” Ever so slowly, you reached out to graze your hand over his. His eyes remained on you, unblinking. When he didn’t jerk away, you threaded your warm fingers through his frigid ones. “Perhaps I can show you?”

There was a stormy grumble to Morpheus’ chest when his arm darted out to snake over your waist, pulling you close. He swallowed your pleased gasp when he sealed his lips over yours, noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor. Finally, finally, your hands reached up to bury within his unruly dark hair, sighing into him. There was a furiously desperate nature behind his touches, and you were nothing if not a match to his intensity. When you softly bit down on the bottom of his lip, a dangerous color melded over his features, and he made a suppressed noise of torment in the back of his throat, before kissing you again—harder this time. You most certainly didn’t mind.

In tandem, you stepped back into his bedroom, and he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed so loudly, the very walls rattled—no doubt the entire castle had heard it. Neither of you seemed to care.

She was screaming.

There was a long litany of crying pleas falling from her lips, hair plastered to her quickly paling skin with sweat. Tears rolled down her plump cheeks as she cradled her swollen stomach, where her unborn child was slowly dying within her.

She was losing her baby.

You were standing beside her, casting as many protective healing enchantments as fast as you possibly could, breathing labored. The very beginnings of panic seized your heart when none of it was enough. You weren’t enough.

“PLEASE!” she screamed her voice raw to any God that would listen to her. “PLEASE, HELP ME! I BEG YOU! I BEG YOU, PLEASE! I can’t lose them, I can’t lose my baby!”

“I’m trying,” you croaked, strained, even though she couldn’t hear or see you. You were trying—but it was too late.

Death appeared in front of the bed, serenely calm, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You only shrugged her off, hurriedly casting more enchantments, more incantations, more protective shielding. You were a God of fertility, a protector of women and children—how could you let this happen?

“Y/N,” your old friend said, not unkindly.

You ignored her.

“Y/N,” she repeated, a touch firmer. “You cannot bring back the dead.”

Another enchantment. Another incantation. Another spell. A scalding tear fell down your cheek. Your hands began to shake.

The child was still dead. The mother’s wails echoed shrill in your head.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, your vision obscured with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

You didn’t even register when Dream gently pulled you away from the woman, so his sister had some space to properly do her job. Because you had failed at yours.

A sob thundered through you, shaking you to your very core. “I’m sorry,” you cried, turning away from the body. This wasn’t the first time you’d gone through this, but it only seemed to get more and more painful each time.

Morpheus, grim-faced and solemn, brought you closer to him with soft touches, guiding your head to rest into the crook of his neck. You cried against his skin, fistfuls of his coat gathered tightly within your palms. He murmured a short sentence of comfort into your ear, but you didn’t quite catch what he was saying, ears filled with static.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over again. Morpheus tenderly stroked the back of your head, falling silent, and tugged you all the closer to him.

She was asleep.

A man laid naked beside her, his arm thrown loosely over her waist as he snored so loud it was a wonder she didn’t jolt awake.

With a beguiling smile, you looked over your shoulder to Morpheus expectantly. A miniscule glimmer of amusement warbled within his eyes, and with a flick of his fingers, the slumbering man’s arm fell away from the woman, and he turned over with a grumble, falling deeper into a dreamful sleep.

“Thank you,” you told him, affectionately grazing the tip of your nose to his cheek. “You should come along with me more often—it’s fun having an assistant to help me with my duties.”

“I’m only but a call away, my love,” replied the Endless, an unmistakably doting edge to his words.

Your grin grew double its size. Morpheus slowly gestured to the sleeping couple with his head, reminding you of your duties.

“They’ve been trying to conceive for months,” you told him, waving your hand over the woman’s belly. A soft aureate glow touched the ends of your fingers, and fell to her in periodic droplets. “Today’s their lucky day.”

With a final protective casting, you stepped back, satisfied.

“She won’t know she’s pregnant until two or three weeks’ time,” you said, making your way back to him across the room. “I’ll be back by then to make sure she’s doing alright—will you come with me, Morpheus?”

The Endless regarded you with a soft, fond gaze, one that was reserved for you, and only you. He gathered your hands within his.

You arched a brow when he didn’t answer your question. “Morpheus—?”

“Marry me,” he cut you off quietly, voice saturated with feather-silken endearment.

There was a beat of shocked silence, and you had to pause for another two to make sure that he wasn’t jesting with you. Then again, Morpheus was never the kind to jest in the first place.

Then, your expression cracked into one of joy, positively radiant. The moonlight streaming through the window cast mellow shadows over the slopes of your features, shifting as you smiled ever so brilliantly.

“On one condition,” you murmured, drawing yourself closer to him and dragging a glowing finger down his jaw.

“Anything, my love,” whispered Morpheus, his lips but a hair’s breadth from yours.

“You must know that my duties to the mortals will always come first and foremost.”

The Endless dipped his head in understanding. “Every passing moment with you is only something to be all the more grateful for.”

“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you?” you whispered, amused. Morpheus stole your smile away with a kiss, indulgent in nature and devastatingly gentle.

Khonshu thought you were a fool. A mindless, bumbling fool.

“You married Dream of the Endless?” your half-brother harrumphed. “What of your courtship with Ptah? He is in love with you, sibling-mine.”

At the mention of your previous lover, you bristled, glaring witheringly at his bird-skulled form. “That was centuries ago, Khonshu. Perhaps if you’d bothered to keep in touch, you would know that. Besides, Ptah is madly in love with Sekhmet, and she with him. I have no interest in rekindling whatever it is we had in the past. I love Morpheus, and that is that. Now I’m very much glad you didn’t bother showing up to our wedding.”

“There was a wedding?” he snarked, which made you square your jaw.

The two of you had always had a love-hate relationship, as most siblings often did.

“Even Anubis showed up,” you retorted, mind wandering back to your first love from long ago, and the awkward introduction between him and your husband. “Though, Morpheus wasn’t particularly happy about that.”

“Anubis has always been a sniveling, groveling simpleton,” your brother snidely remarked. “I am ever so busy, as you can see—I have no time for frivolous events such as weddings.”

Knowing it was pointless arguing with him, you simply blew out a sigh, and watched as he carefully shifted the moon into appearance amongst the stars of the night sky.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp, searing pain tore through your chest, and you let out a choked groan, falling to your knees at the sudden sensation. Khonshu’s large head rounded to look at you, a litany of sharp, berating words on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back upon seeing you on the ground.

“Y/N?” he asked, deep voice bellowing.

It felt as if a dozen knives were plunged within you, twisting, twisting, twisting—

Morpheus.

You didn’t know what was going on, but something was happening to him. You could feel it. He was in danger. Panicked, you called for him in your thoughts, and received no response. With a trembling voice, you called for him out loud.

Nothing.

Khonshu was beside you by then, helping you up, asking you about a dozen impatient questions at once, but you had no time to answer any of them.

“I have to go,” you told him, before stepping away, determined to get back to the Dreaming to find your husband.

“Lucienne!” you called, running into the library after scouring the castle, finding it completely empty. The librarian looked up from her book, a smile on her face upon seeing you. It was quick to melt away when she noticed your terrified expression. “Where’s Morpheus? Where is he?”

She looked taken aback by your frantic nature, before she calmly replied, “I’m not quite sure, he was here recently—I thought he was with you?”

“So he’s not here?” you asked, breath hitching. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Lucienne, I have to find him. I’m afraid something’s happened to my husband!”

Concerned, she tilted her head. “What makes you think so?”

“I just—I felt this searing pain within me, and for a moment I could feel him, like I… I could feel his pain, as if it were mine—I felt his anguish. And then it was just gone.”

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’m certain he’s perfectly fine,” Lucienne placated, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can wait until nightfall—Morpheus is sure to return from wherever he is by then.”

He didn’t return.

Not at nightfall.

Not the next day. Nor the next week, nor the month after that.

Not for years, not for decades.

The living realm was in shambles without him. Some went for days without sleep, collapsing only out of pure exhaustion, and others slept in a comatose state for weeks on end.

Dreams and nightmares looked to you for guidance at first—but you weren’t equipped to rule an entire realm on your own, much less one that wasn’t yours to begin with.

And not long after Dream’s disappearance, they began to leave the Dreaming, in search of something else.

The kingdom was crumbling apart, and you tried your best to keep it together at first, you really did. But with so much of your time devoted to the living realm, you began to weaken, and you couldn’t uphold both strenuous duties at once. With time, the Dreaming began decaying and breaking down, until all that was left was ash and rubble.

Lucienne was one of the only ones that stayed in the broken realm, and it shattered your heart to see her so dejected, living amongst the ruins that she once called a home.

And what made it all worse was that you missed him. You missed your husband. His comforting presence, his smooth, melodic voice, his muted kindness, despite his cold exterior. You missed him, terribly so, and to see his world crumbling away filled the cracks within your chest with a thick, tar-like despair.

During your time in the living realm, when you weren’t helping out the frantic mortals, you spent your time scouring city to city, country to country, tribe to tribe—and nowhere was Morpheus to be found. You’d even gotten so desperate to ask your brother, Khonshu, to help, and he’d reluctantly agreed, using his poor sleep-deprived avatars to help search for him. Perhaps you didn’t search hard enough.

Or perhaps… perhaps he was simply gone.

No. No, it just couldn’t be.

Morpheus wouldn’t up and disappear like that—he loved his subjects, his dreams, his nightmares, all of them—and he loved you, more than anything else.

He wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, you knew that. He was somewhere out there, in the vast cosmos.

And he needed your help.

“I’ll find you, my dearest Dream,” you whispered, still trying ever so desperately to reach him through thought. “Wherever you are… wherever you’ve gone…”

I’ll find you.

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

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myoddessy · 2 years

Text

WINGS OF LEAD | dream of the endless

pairing: dream of the endless x (fem) angel of peace!reader

summary: matching scars lay by your shoulder blades where your greatest honour once lay, but all you can think of is the debt you owe to the world for merely living. morpheus knows this, and struggles to grant you peace.

notes: reader is referred to as 'gavreel' after the angel of peace. there's not a lot of dialogue in this bcs i want to watch the sandman again to get a better grasp on the way morpheus talks so that my writing's for him can be as accurate as possible, but i still hope that you enjoy !! also, this is the first proper fic i've written in a while and my first ever work for the sandman, so constructive criticism is more than welcomed!

warnings: no show/comic spoilers!!, angst ( pretty heavy, but not in regards to your relationship), fluff, comfort, nightmares, mentions of captivity, mentions of torture (reader's wings being taken), mentions of death.

word count: 1.9k

the playlist.

when you woke, the pain wasn't what you registered first. it was the unnerving scent of sterile countertops and cleaning alcohol. then it was the shadowed figures gathered in the corner of the room, hidden by the blinding moonlight that beat down on you. your true panic only settled when you felt the tight wrap of the leather cuffs that hoisted your arms in the air, leaving your body hanging. and then it came crashing all at once. a searing agony surged through your body and sent a blood-curdling scream from your chest as you tugged against your restraints.

"you're an odd one, you know." a gravelly voice rang from the shadows. "more resilient than you little friends." a glare replaced your worry at the mention of your allied angels.

"where are they?" you knew the answer, but still feared the reply.

"their poor hearts couldn't take it after they saw their wings in... different care." a light flickered on, illuminating what the others in the room were watching.

another glass box, smaller than yours, mounted on the wall and displaying your wings. a horrified gasp escaped you as you blanched and tears gathered by your waterline. a hushed 'no' slipped past your lips and the man before you laughed cynically.

"do you know how much you're worth? how much people are willing to pay for not only the wings of, but the angel of peace herself?" he gripped your jaw tightly when you did not respond. "answer when you're asked a question, or the most any bidder will receive will be your wings."

"i'm worth more than you deserve." he stilled for a moment before laughing loudly, turning towards his comrades who followed his laughter before he span back to you with a harsh strike to your cheek, an violent sting left in its wake.

he remained nameless. he bragged to his friends. he bragged about how he led you and the other angels to the slaughter, how he'd achieved feats of immeasurable worth, how he should be celebrated for his captures. it felt like an eternity until he left the room and shut off all lights, leaving you drowned in moonbeams once more.

instead of the primal instinct of fear that one would expect, you felt guilty. you wondered why you, a mere angel of peace, was granted the gift of life when it was so cruelly stripped from your family of nature, loyalty, fire, and guidance.

tears spilled down your cheeks, some hitting your chest, others falling to the floor. under the light, they glistened, and you prayed to the creator and the endless that your tear managed to slip through the earth and wake the angels' spirits to save you.

you wished for morpheus, for your lover. you hoped he had already sourced you, perhaps he'd sent jessamy, and you'd soon find yourself free of your shackles.

the pain in your back had faded from sharp and burning to a dull and continuous ache that kept you teetering on the brink of sleep, too light to keep you alert but pounding enough to pull you awake.

you weren't sure how long you spent in captivity, time was meaningless when your only purpose was to be marvelled at and mocked. you could barely even tell moonlight from sunlight anymore, not since hunger took away the strength to crane your head to the sky. blood caked the edges of your cuffs from where they'd cut after you tried to twist free. bruises of strain and battering littered your body, your face were sunken with fatigue, and your wings still stood in your line of sight, taunting you, reminding you of how you were now merely half of a whole.

when morpheus found you, when he burst through the door with a stone-set jaw and blazing eyes that softened once they saw you, you believed yourself to be close to insanity. he released your bindings and took you in his arms with the whispered promise of a safer dawn. you felt the faint tickle of sand against the few parts of you that were not rendered numb as he granted you sleep at last.

that was a century ago. one hundred years had changed many things, from the state of the mortal world, to your title in the dreaming. you were now their queen, just as you were now morpheus' wife. what hadn't changed, however, was your guilt.

the hours of sleep morpheus gifted you every night were often cut short when your memories overpowered his dreams and the stories your captors told of how your family had died, how you would die if you did not cooperate, haunted you. you would wake up with a cold sweat and a trembling body and you would swear that you could still feel that pain in your back. some nights you were granted mercy and you only had the illusion of what was your norm — dull, repetitive, deep. most nights, however, you could feel them taking your wings. every pull of their saws, every scream that your unconscious mind refused to let out, every drop of blood. you could feel it all.

you did not tell morpheus what exactly your nightmares held, and he swore you the privacy of him never venturing into your dreams, but he knew. and he resented it.

he had often thought that maybe this was his reckoning. maybe he had relished in his power for too long without fully realising his downfalls, and the universal entities that towered over him hand picked your struggle to remind morpheus that he was not the creator. he was not all powerful. if so, morpheus then decided that he despised the cruel twists of fate. the man with pride and power as opposed to blood was willing to crawl through desolate sands with scarred knees and tattered palms if it meant that his call to truth wasn't at the sake of your self.

maybe morpheus had been too gluttonous with your adoration. maybe he revelled in the joy he brought you too much. maybe he inspired too many poets, too many artists, too many bards with images of you. maybe he had focused too much on what he could give you, and not what you needed.

you were not superior to morpheus in any way that anyone other than himself would recognise. he was an endless, you were an angel, the imbalance of strength lay not only in your names, but in your bones. but morpheus did not care, he knew that in your divinity, you rained superior to him. in your grace and your glow, in your elegance and eloquence, in your smile and your softness you were a better being than he.

you brought down an righteous light that banished the cold darkness that enveloped him. he knew that no matter how many parallels that you could draw from jane austen and shakespeare to you, his grandeur would never amount to what you brought him; peace.

the mere whisper of your name relaxed his tense bones, and the ghost of your touch could do much more. he worried that he could never do the same for you.

his hand in your hair, his arms pulling you close, your head on his chest as dreams of your wedding danced in your head. a tender smile reserved for you, and you alone, dawned on his face as he observed you. you looked serene and tranquil. your face was soft and the gentle upturn of your lips was pulled from a painting, morpheus should know, he's the one who told the painters about you.

his thumb ran up and down your bicep, feeling the goosebumps that rose in its wake, and his brows furrowed. you were safe now, but he knew it was only temporary. he knew that in due time, terrors and trauma would soil reminiscence of your first dance as husband and wife, and he would be left helpless and useless for all except an unsure word and a steady hold around your body.

he loved you, truly. he saw you in every nook and cranny of every realm he entered. in the tide and shore of the waking world, in the sun and it's golden foothills that reside in the far side of the dreaming, in the climbing ivy twirled around trees in the land of the fae. every light rang synonymous with your name, their devotee's rang synonymous with his.

"what are you thinking of, my love?" your voice startled him, his breath catching with a slight jump. you laugh quietly at this, he instantly calmed.

"you." he answered truthfully.

"all good things, i hope." you drew stars on his chest.

"partly." his response caused you to shift in his hold, now sitting up to face him fully, taking his hands in yours and laying them in your lap.

"what do you mean by that?"

morpheus looked away from you for a moment, tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as he gathered his words. "you are a good soul, gavreel. too good to belong to someone like me." almost as if he could see the protests gathering on your tongue, he silenced you by continuing. "you have the world at your fingertips, yet your heart still beats and bleeds for those below you. your dreams are of some great revelation to bring back lost souls, or to save those soon-to-be lost. you integrity astounds me."

your brows furrowed. morpheus had always known that you longed to help others, it was your purpose, after all. you did not understand why he made a point of it now.

"i fear that i cannot gift you the one thing you truly deserve." he confessed, his hands tightening their hold on yours.

"you have given me everything i could ever wish for, morpheus." you shifted closer to him with a hushed voice, now sitting side-to-side with your chin resting on his shoulder.

"i have not been able to give you peace of mind." his eyes locked on yours once more, and for the first time, you saw a mirror of your own guilt. "i might give you moments of tranquility, but i can do nothing to stop the torments of your mind. i have failed you."

you raised a hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, fingers lovingly trailing down the rest of his face until your hand cupped his cheek and pulled him closer, foreheads resting against each other.

"do not say that." you insisted. "do not ever say that. you could never fail me. not even if you burned this realm to the ground, not even if it was you who took my wings." your nose brushed against his. "yes, my past lingers in my mind, and that will always be the case. but that does not mean, nor will it ever mean, that i am not at peace when i am around you."

"you, morpheus, lord of the dreaming, dream of the endless, my truest love, are my vessel of peace. you carry my intentions to a world i am not strong enough to wield. you have healed me by simply being mine, and i will not take the insult of you believing that i do not feel peaceful in your presence." you moved to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. "do you understand me, my love?"

his hand raised from your lap to tilt it back down and level with his, lips barely touching when he murmured a simple 'i love you' and with the spark of his kiss and the fire of his wandering hands, you knew your words were heeded.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream #the sandman x reader #the sandman #desire of the endless #death of the endless #lucienne #jessamy the raven #neil gaiman #the sandman imagine #dream of the endless imagine #morpheus imagines #the sandman fanfic #morpheus fanfic #tom sturridge

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Text

The devil in the basement

Tag list: @mess-in-side

Idea: @vanillastrawberrylove

a/n: ngl it go a little shitty and sloppy in places.

You hated working for that eccentric old man who had more then he did in wealth then he ever did in health but how were you meant to sustain yourself? Even though throughout your mainstay as one of Roderick’s housekeepers had made you felt that you were being severely underpaid for a majority of the workload you had to get through, Some were pleasant while others not so much; you would often find yourself ease dropping on his conversations whilst doing menial small tasks such as dusting where you found out that the old nutter was asphyxiated with the idea of being able to bring back his dead son.

‘Fat chance.’ You scoffed to yourself as though you didn’t just ease-dropped on some personal information that was never yours to listen in on before getting back to the task at hand in the case of if you were ever to be spotted lurking outside his office at odds hours of the day. Yet the aspect of possessing the ability to bring back a loved one never left your mind; it went against the natural course of life yet that didn’t mean humans didn’t desire to have one last moment with their loved ones before it’s too late. You’ve had your fair share of similar thoughts but never let them foster long enough to become your driving motivator, your soul reason to live; You left them to die when reality taught you that there was a reason that fantasies were called fantasies. It was better and beneficial for your health that you gave those thoughts up before they became unhealthy obsessions on a delusional scale.

However one passing conversation made by two of Roderick’s pristine guests caught your ear as you were polishing the glasses til they shone as though they were crafted out of crystal. “Did you hear? Sir Roderick has captured the devil and kept him in the confines of his basement.” Georgina, a frequent visitor of the Burgess household, spoke no lower then a whisper yet no higher then an obnoxious dog whistle. It proven hard to not show that you were ease-dropping in on their conversation but somehow you managed to achieve the persona of the unassuming help. “Oh come off it dear, you know that old coot is just spouting off anything that’ll keep him in the limelight long enough before he reaches his deathbed.” Reginald, Georgina’s partner, responded as he lead the young woman out by the door, though not before stopping to retrieve their coats from a reluctant Alex. “I saw him Reginald!” Georgina cried, “mistaken it for the bathroom I did but he had starry eyes, dark hair, fair skin from head to toe. It wouldn’t be a far cry to mistake him to that of an angel.” She sighed dreamily, recollecting the man that was supposedly in Roderick’s basement. It was obvious to anyone that Reginald didn’t like the way she was talking about another man in front of him and muttered under his breath bitterly he said, “Lucifer was an angel once,” before shutting the large door behind them without another word.

You hated how easily your curiousness peaked that night as you found yourself being lead some those steps and down into the basement reciting Georgina’s words under your breath, “starry eyes, dark hair, fair skin from head to toe,” where soon enough you were within distance of a glass prison with markings littering the floor beneath it that ominously looked to be linked to some type of binding magic; A partial percentage of your family delved into the mysteries of magic once upon a time ago and got severely punished for it and now you’ve grown to possesses a fearful hatred of it. Sat depressingly within the prison was the most beautiful man you have ever seen in your life. Starry eyes staring directly into your soul, dark hair that looked as though he just had gotten out of bed, fair skin that glowed ethereally bright that you wouldn’t be surprised that this was how his skin was actually like on the regular; he was certainly comparable to that of an angel, a caged angel, if you were to go so far…a fallen angel even.

“Who are you?” The man didn’t respond, initially you thought that he couldn’t hear you and went to clear your throat before trying again, “did he hurt you?” Again you received nothing in return but his cold, harsh glare that might as well have cut into your skin. His jaw clenched and unclenched from time to time which indicated his anger and frustration clearly to you as you internally groaned at your own ignorance. Of course he was waiting to be freed! Yet instead he was stuck with your stupid ass, anyone would be fucking livid at the prospect of being caged for who knows how long that words no longer could convey everything. “Would you at least give me clues on how to free you? I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed after all.” You jested as the man merely darted his eyes to the binding markings keeping him tethered for a brief moment before they went back up to meet yours.

You huffed frustratedly, you could tell this guy was incredibly stubborn and petty in nature; so much so that it would make him a difficult person to engage in a conversation with without feeling as though you would’ve gotten better reactions from a brick wall. “Break the binding magic? That’s all?” You asked rhetorically as you stepped closer to the prison, looking over your shoulder now and then at the slightest bit of sound incase old man Roderick had decided to come and pay the devil in his basement a little visit. “I don’t get paid enough as it is and what a better way to tell that old fuck I quit then help freeing the devil in his basement.” You muttered under your breath as you got to work scrubbing one of the binding markings out into a indistinguishable smudge.

Morpheus tilted his head in questioning, how come you seemed to be the only human capable of doing what Roderick Burgess’s son seemingly could not? For without hesitation you went out of your own way to free him with no fear as to what was to become of you afterwards but more as an act of vengeance against Burgess himself, much like Morpheus would when he escapes this infernal cage he’d seen more then his fair share of. Alex Burgess was given opportunity after opportunity to free the dream lord yet never took it in cowardly fear of a father who clearly didn’t care whether or not his bidding was obeyed right down to the very last detail.

It didn’t take long for Morpheus to know that no matter what Alex did to please his father it would never be enough to earn a place in his blackened heart; Alex was forever in his own obsessive delusion that one day Roderick would utter praise upon him and therefore went against his better judgment in freeing Morpheus all for the appraisal of his cynical old man that only looked at him as a servant then his own child. You didn’t seem all that bothered in what was to come when the time comes for Roderick to realise his prized possession was gone, almost as though you’ve been waiting for an articulate moment to set it in motion and he ,Morpheus, was that moment for you.

He certainly wasn’t in the mood to start trusting you after being exposed to the ugliest parts of humanity during his imprisonment and was steadfast in his assumptions of humans being the same as the last. Cowardly, power hungry, pathetic, disgusting individuals who would do anything -including the likes killing one another and betrayal- just to feel as though they were the higher power looking down on everything and everyone. Morpheus didn’t believe you could any different from Roderick, from Alex, from the estrange cult that helped capture him in the place of his sister. He genuinely didn’t see you being to key to his freedom, he didn’t foresee your arrival as anything other as a false hope; and that the moment you came down here just to head back up as though you didn’t see anything out of place that would arise suspicions like everyone else. Yet you stayed, you asked if there was any way to free him, and here you were standing back to full height with a proud smile as you gazed down at your work which he followed out of curiosity.

To morpheus’s surprise, not only had you smudged out one binding marking you smudged out an entire third of them, the opening you gave him was big enough to escape. He could finally use the inklings of his powers after so long of being deprived of his tools. “Welp, hope that helps.” You told him with a shrug as though you weren’t expecting anything in return, “just promise me one thing will you?” Morpheus stared you down, waiting for the worst to leave you lips as you pray to him to grant you any wish imaginable, “make sure to put the fear of god in Roderick for me when you come back for vengeance.” With that you snuck out a vase from behind your back, rearing your arm as you used all the force you could muster to shattered the glass that was the only thing hold the dream lord back from exulting his wrath.

#the sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x you #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #Morpheus imagines #Morpheus x you #Morpheus imagine #Morpheus fic #Morpheus fanfic #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagines #dream of the endless x you

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madwomansapologist · 9 months

Note

hello everything is fine ?,

I saw your requests are open could you make an imagine with morpheus x reader where s/o want a baby "I want a baby, Morpheu." you whisper: "Your baby if you want it".

wandering to Her (or: expending the family with morpheus)

synopsis: You fear death. I mean, you love Death, but you fear dying. But after spendind a day with her, seeing her taking those who fallen and talking to those who were just born, you understood more about life than you could ever imagine. You understood why you love to dream, and then you realized something that you have never thought about before. You understood that you wanted immortality. The true one. [1K]

warnings: talking about death with Death. i've cried writing this so be aware.

ps: thanks for your request! i don't really know if he can have kids, didn't read the comics yet, so this is all speculation. it was supposed to be a headcanons, but i got emotional. i'm warning everyone: i'm one neil gaiman's post away from rewatching the whole show. hope you enjoy it!

It all start with Death. As usual.

With her, time didn't seem to work. It always went by too fast, while at the same time everything took too long to happen. She has this singular orbit. A gravity of her own.

Death is so different from what you expected. She's kind. She's patient. She's loving. She cares. Death isn't fighting to conquer more souls or anything you could've imagine she would want. She's not fighting, because they'll eventually be hers. It's easy to be aware of your own mortality when she's around.

And maybe that's why you invited yourself to spend a day with Death. You wanted to see how it was that last moment. What Death said, if she said anything at all. How people reacted. You were curious. What is death if not time acting on beings? It was a morbid curiosity, but a valid one.

"You already knew I talked to humans when they're born," Death caresses the baby's little fingers. So tiny, so soft, so singular. A being that don't know pain, wickedness, suffering. A being that need to be protected. "I've told you."

You approached the crib. Your hand pushed against the wood, swaying slightly. It was instinctual. You rocked him without even realizing it. You sniffled. "You remember what you said to me?"

At moments like this you remember how old she is. No matter how young she looks, no matter how good she is to talk to, Death is older than you will ever be able to comprehend. And she will be the last of her siblings to leave. Endless, until she's no more.

"After I breath live into you," Death whispered to not awake the babies on the maternity. If your time with Morpheys taugh you something it's that time isn't that different for the Endless. They feel it just like a human would. But you knew Death would remember. You really did. "I've told you to not fear me. I've told you to embrace me. I've told you, my dear friend, that life's destiny is death. And I warned that if you wanted to live, you would need to be willing to die. That every step you made takes you closer to me. That every book you read, every tear you cry, every friend you lost, every car you scratch, every password you forgot: you're making your way to me."

And so you realized why Dream and Death are so close. Dying is terrifying. Ceasing to exist one day without really understanding the reason for it. But to dream... The will to accomplish the things we dream of is greater than the fear of the end. It is Dream that makes us accept Death. And suddenly it's no longer about ceasing to exist one frightening day, but about existing until a fateful one.

Someone, in a past so far away that you can't even understand, decided that it was worth going on. Someone decided that a long hug was worth more than a downpour. Someone decided that talking to a lover was worth more than an earthquake. Someone decided that every disease, every evil, every pain, every tomb, every fear, every fate: everything was worth less when compared to what life has to offer.

Because someone made that choice, and then it's child, and it's child, and it's child, your grandma was born. And because she made the same decision, because she made the choice of dealing with the tumultuous in hope of something better, your mom war born. And because she made the same decision all the ancestors you remember and all the ancestors you can't even imagine did, you were born.

And isn't it what you're doing since the beginning? Choosing the hope of something better instead of the certainty of the end? Since you were eight you knew everyone dies. It took you more time to understand that it was really true. And then, since that moment, you knew what it was to be human: to be always sad because you're always aware of the end, but to choose to ignore this feeling so you can go on.

The baby sighed. He slept. He looked happy. He looked peaceful. He looked ready to be taken care of, loved and embraced. Ready to see his parents, his grandparents, his uncles. Ready to understand that he has a body, that he has a mind, and that the two are not so different from what it seems. Ready to walk, cry, love, lose, freak out, dance, sing, live. He looked ready. And so you understood that you were ready too.

"Go," Death took your hands into hers and kissed your knuckles. "Be brave."

You don't know how she knew, but you felt welcomed. You felt seen and understood. So you let Death finish her job, and went back to his realm.

To the realm of dreams and nightmares. The realm of joys and sorrows. Of fears and desires. The realm that once glowed and then decayed with the passing of its lord. For the realm that survived, proving once again that it would always survive.

You found him in the library. It must be a good day. A day without great tasks. You approached trying not to make any noise. Before you could startle him, Morpheus scared you.

"You little shit," you carressed your chest. "You want to kill me?"

Morpheus chuckled. When his velvet voice came to your ears, the fear had already dissipated. "Accept it," his tone was mischievous, but Morpheus' hold you so gently. He stroked your skin. "You lost the ability to surprise me."

You closed your eyes when he kissed your forehead, leaning towards him. Morpheus is so warm. His voice is so tender. His love is so palpable. "I want a baby, Morpheus."

"I take it back," Morpheus kissed your forehead again. He didn't pull his lips away. When Morpheus opened them again, it was as if he spoke with your mind. "As you wish."

And that, the choice to ignore certainty and dream with possibilities, is true immortality.

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