No Kidding But My First Thought In This "wait....aren't They Siblings?" Then I Remember I Ship Targaryen

No kidding but my first thought in this "wait....aren't they siblings?" Then I remember I ship targaryen couples😂..

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The incestry feels of this fic no longer deters me ever since HOTD yassified incest..

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter One

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day, and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: None. 

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone. 

Word Count: ~2.7k

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Mother Night and Father Time created the seven Endless to personify life within the known universe. Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium. They did their jobs admirably, and well, for eons. Destiny personified a life journey. Death, the end of life. Dream oversaw the dreams and nightmares. Destruction, so that creation may happen from ruin. Desire embodied the darkest secrets one held. Despair embodied a feeling that all lifeforms felt at some point in their life and the youngest of the Endless? Delirium, the epitome of chaos and previously known as Delight. All was well within the universe, millennia going by in harmony. Then a life-sustaining planet came to be and it quickly became abundantly clear that the new race of sentient life was lacking in one last personification. So Mother Night and Father came together to create one last Endless. You. 

You were created on a bed of lavender and stars, swathed in blankets of shimmering ebony. Against your naked breast lay a morning dove whose wings were of grey and pink. You had been woven from stars, oceans, and daffodils to culminate the very essence of what you were to represent: hope. You would rise and fall with the sun and moon, come and go like the great tides of oceans, and feel with the crescendo of the tallest waterfall. The capacity in which you were created to understand and feel human emotion was like none of the previous Endless before you. Eyes flickering open, you saw the inky black of the universe, touched with stars, planets, and dust. You had the knowledge of the universe, but the sight before you still took your breath away. 

Rising from your cradle, dove fluttering into space, you felt the blankets that had been covering you, travel and drape across your body until you were dressed in a simple onyx shift. Your eyes gazed out at the universe in wisdom and innocence, enraptured by the overwhelming beauty and life that stretched out before you. Your dove fluttered in front of you and holding your hands out, you let her land on your joined fingers. She was your companion your creators had gifted to you, she would represent you, be your sigil, be your closest friend. Cradling her light body in one hand, you stroked a finger over her head and down her soft grey back speckled with black. She cooed at you and leaned into your shift, her black eyes closing in contentment. Already you could feel the bond you shared with her. While you stroked your companion, you felt a shiver run across your shoulders. You looked up into the vastness of space, feeling Mother Time and Father Night. 

They did not need to speak physical words to convey their message to you. You had a job that they were entrusting you with, the entire reason for your creation after so many eons of on seven Endless. You were to personify the one natural force that life could not exist without. It was a daunting task but you, in your newborn state, were ready to take on such a task. As your creators drew back to return to their duties, you felt a ripple of energy and then the blossom of seven powers much like your own. Your predecessors had arrived. Holding your dove close to your body, you slowly turned around, your bare feet sliding across space rocks and rubble. The seven Endless, eons older than you, were lined up in order by creation. The oldest, Destiny, spoke to you first. 

“We welcome you, sister,” Destiny had a kind voice and was draped in cloth, his face covered. You knew he could not see but he still had sight and saw the possibilities of everything. “To the beginning of the endless and all that you may bring to creation.” He was wise and all-knowing, a heavy burden you could feel.

“Come now brother, you don’t need to be so formal and mystique,” Death interjected, kind brown eyes looking at you with softness. She held so much life behind her eyes, despite the very task she was made for. 

“Mystique? It’s rather amusing, actually,” Desire cooed, their golden eyes washing over your form and to the little dove you held against your bosom. “Our parents appear to have made such a fragile and innocent Endless, how are you to help creation?” You remained silent to their provoking words. “Will you not speak little dove? Surely we aren’t that terrifying.” Your head tilted to the side in curiosity as the older siblings proceeded to chide Desire for attempting to pick on you. Desire merely rolled their golden eyes. 

“Dawn has been made as Mother Night and Father Time bid, Desire,” Destiny called out, shifting his grasp on the book chained to his wrist. “We shall leave our new sibling to her new realm.” The siblings bid their farewells, giving you curious last looks for your lack of speech. As Desire prepared to return to their realm, a voice broke the silence in a sweet almost intangibly beautiful lit. 

“Tell me, Desire,” You spoke, your eyes focused on Desire as the rest of the siblings turned around in surprise. Gently, you moved your hands away from your body and held out the one holding your dove within. “What is life without hope?” Your dove soared from your hands into the blanket of deep space, speckled heather gray wings stretched out. As flower petals started to swirl around the skirt of your shift, you gave Desire the briefest of smiles, your eyes glowing with the embers of your true power. Then you disappeared in a swirl of flower petals and stardust, leaving behind the nest of lavender and stars you had been born in. 

To the surprise of their siblings, Desire let out a genuine laugh and smiled deviously. 

“Well, what do you know? She has a backbone after all. What fun she’ll be,” They mused with sly rhetoric. A red shimmer surrounded Desire. “I like her already, I wonder what other surprises Dawn holds behind those innocent eyes of hers.” Destiny, Death, and Dream were the last to leave and the three oldest siblings exchanged looks. 

“It is troubling that Desire has taken a liking to our newest sibling.” Death commented softly, looking to Destiny. Destiny did not immediately reply, his mind absorbed in the endless futures of the newest edition to the small family. 

“Hmm, sibling, I do not believe… not purpose, hope…” He trailed off, his mind fully entranced in the future and possibilities of Dawn of the Endless. Dream and Death watched as he walked away disappearing in a fade.

“Do you think that Desire shall tempt her?” Dream asked, addressing his remaining sibling. Death considered what she had witnessed and what she could feel from their new sibling. 

“I believe that it is far too early to assume anything about Dawn, for we do not know who she is as an Endless, what she is like, or what she is capable of. We all could feel the immense power Mother and Father placed within her… only time shall tell.” A troublesome thought, Dream considered as he returned himself to his realm, questing the intersection of dreams and hopes. He was sure that out of the siblings, you would have the most interaction with him. After all, what was life, what were dreams, without hope?

Your realm was called The Gardens, but unlike the eldest Endless, yours was not a labyrinth. No, your realm was the epitome of all beauty found within a garden. Lofting waterfalls, endless woodlands, lakes, rivers, and oceans, and homes made from the trunks of trees. At the very heart rested the citadel, your home. It was a sprawling stone fortress that looked overgrown with trees and vines… but make no mistake, the flora was the very lifeblood of your home and was the brick and mortar that held the space together. In total, your realm housed a culmination of mythical creatures from those that took shelter within the tallest of trees, to those that slept in the deepest depths of the ocean, only surfacing when the moon was at its peak. You rather liked having the creatures mortals only dreamed of, inhabiting your realm, it made it extra special. 

You had surrounded yourself with dryads to take care of the living gardens that popped up sporadically within the citadel, and they also helped you keep track of the growing count of hopes that appeared within your library. With each passing year, the numbers grew exponentially and you were well busy. The hopes that the precious humans had were Endless. You supposed that is what gave them their charm. 

“… remind you that the spring flooding in the Flowering Wetlands has, once again, displaced several Will-o'-the-wisp families, three Naiad families, and—“ Rita passed to look at the scroll in her hand, her green finger running down the list. “Ah, yes, the Jengu has decided to make home in the papyrus again, farming has been… difficult. Bezia, I think her name is?”

Pausing in your efforts to prune the over-growing vine of ivy vines within the heart of your citadel, you looked at the stressed Ruta, your head handmaiden. 

“Take a group of handmaidens to reconstruct the flooded homes, I’ll talk with Bezia. I’m sure there is something we can do about her residency” You told her, returning your pruning clippers to the basket of garden tools. The skirt of your dress swirled around your bare feet as you approached Ruta and looked at the scroll in her hands. The spring floods caused mayhem each and every year, but the residents of the Flowering Wetlands refused to live anywhere else. You had no issue with that and were glad to help rebuild what got ruined every year… but Bezia the Jengu, or swamp mermaid, repeatedly used the flooding to take residence in the papyrus fields. You couldn’t have that because it impeded parchment production for the library… but you couldn’t exactly remove Bezia from what made her happy. 

“I see that you have a plan, my lady?” Ruta questioned with a knowing smile. You smiled back and looked up at the sky that shone in the open courtyard

“I’ll be back soon, expect the realm to tremble with change anew,” You spoke over your shoulder, flower petals and stardust swirling around you. Your dove cooed overhead seconds before you and her disappeared. Your journey to the Flowering Wetlands only took seconds and soon you were standing knee-deep within muddy waters, floating plants and flowers surrounding you. Your dove cooed and fluttered down to your shoulder. Scanning the papyrus around you, you spotted a glimmer of a green tail before it disappeared beneath the water. “Bezia?” You called, slowly walking towards the Jengu. 

You spotted the mischievous Jengu watching you from the shallow waters, swimming between the papyrus plants and never staying in one spot. 

“Bezia, I wish to speak to you, will you not pause in your mischief merry-making?” You called out. There was another splash, and you saw her tail flick a couple of plants before she popped out of the water in front of you. The dark-skinned Jengu eyed you wearily, her tail swishing about in nervous energy. “You can’t keep taking residence among the papyrus fields, Bezia, we need them for the library.” Her facial features scrunched in distaste.

“The papyrus fields are the best home to have, my lady, the salt water chafes my skin and the freshwater doesn’t feel right on my fins,” Bezia replied, flashing you her pointed teeth. Your eyes flickered around you, observing the papyrus fields.

“Which is why I shall make an extension to the Flowering Wetlands to provide you with a home you may take residence in year-round.” You explained to her, a kind expression on your face. “I do not wish for the residents of my realm to feel not at home, that includes you Bezia.” 

The Jengu regarded you carefully, assessing to see if you spoke the truth. Then she nodded. With your eyes sparking to life, you looked to the heavens of your realm and raised your arms, shifting and molding the nearby landscape to stretch and bend, expand and reform. Muddy water sloshed against your dress, staining the white fabric as you worked. When you were done, there was a winding path through the papyrus fields that led to a new grove. In that grove were twisting vines and flowers that wove halls and rooms, a perfect home for any Jengu that further sought home. Bezia’s eyes glowed with happiness, and without a thank you or word, she swam her way to the newly made grove with the excitement of a child. 

You smiled, knowing that she would be much happier now that she had a place to call her own. Raising your eyes to the heavens of your realm, you spent a moment enjoying the nice breeze breaking through the heat of early summer. While you were closing your eyes and feeling the soft gales caressing your body, you felt a summons. 

Dawn, I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. I request permission to visit your realm to speak with you on a matter regarding recent dreams. 

You blinked and your lips parted as you exhaled. You could see in your mind's eye that he held an ivory dove in his hands, his starlit eyes staring down into the carved sigil. 

As long as my gates remain open, Dream, you are free to visit me however you shall design. My gates welcome you, you may meet me in my courtyard, I will be but a moment. 

You felt Dream acknowledge your words and enter your realm, his presence emerging within your palace walls. His presence always made you feel more connected to the Waking World. While you carried their hopes, Dream carried their dreams, and together you made dreams come true. Blinking out of your inner thoughts, you looked down at your soiled dress. It wasn’t completely ruined… so gripping the part of it that was mud-stained, you began ripping the hem. Your dress hem was torn to your knees by the time you decided you were satisfied with your work. Wiping your damp palms on the skirt of your dress, you focused on transporting yourself back to the citadel. Ruta will be happy to know that Bezia would no longer be a problem among the papyrus fields. 

Walking barefoot down a hallway you spotted Ruta speaking with Zinnia, the dryad who was in charge of keeping the rooms tidy and neat. In other words, making sure that the plants that intertwined with the castle didn’t get overzealous in their growth.

“My lady,” The dryads echoed as you approached them. Ruta peered at you with a knowing look. 

“I take it out papyrus problem is no more?” You smiled and bowed your head.

“A minor adjustment to the realm was all that was needed, Ruta. There was no malignancy behind Bezina’s actions.” Ruta bobbed her head and drew a line through a point in her checklist. 

“I thought so, I have a few more items to sort out within the Forest of Songs… but I can do that by myself. I believe Lord Dream is waiting for you within your courtyard?” 

“Yes, we have business,” You confirmed, your eyes lifting to the hall that led to the inner sanctum of the palace. “Please contact me if you run into any more problems, Ruta.”

“Of course my lady,” Ruta replied before she and Zinnia bid their farewells and departed. You resumed your course to your courtyard, walking beneath the curtained waterfall that flowed at all four entrances of the open space. At your footfalls, Dream, who had been standing and observing the pond in the very center of the courtyard, turned around. His eyes met yours, then widened when he took in your state. 

“Apologies for my state of dress, I was assisting with the spring floods within the Flowering Wetlands and it gets… muddy this year,” You said in a soft explanation. Dream’s lips twitched at your words. “You said you had a matter of recent dreams you wished to speak of? How may I help you?” 

Date Published: 1/16/23

Last Edit: 1/16/23

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Hope/Dawn is so cute.. omg..

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Two

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: Confused Pining.

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone. 

Word Count: ~2.5k

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Your bare feet flew across the flaggen stone of your courtyard as you rushed around, trying to find the papers you needed. It had been hectic in The Gardens as of late, there had been a boom in the population in The Waking World and hopes were pouring into your realm at a pace you and your handmaids could barely keep up with. But you were not looking for parchment for The Gardens, but for The Dreaming. The lines between dreams and hopes often overlapped which led you to work with Dream off and on over the last hundred years or so. You had been keeping things strictly business with him, not wanting any sort of relationship with the older Endless to impede your purpose… but Dream had offered to show you his realm after you both finished your business for the day. If only you could find that blasted parchment!  

Of all the times to lose important parchment work it had to now. 

Cursing under your breath, you scrambled around the bench you normally sat at, your hands moving leaves, vines, and flowers. Sometimes, your plants liked to be naughty. You couldn’t blame them, they were still quite young, just like you. 

“Where did you go!? I’m going to be late!” You exclaimed, your flower-woven hair flying about. You caught a fold of parchment buried within the vines of the bougainvillea wrapping around the north archway of the courtyard. Eyes narrowing, you walked up to the unassuming vine and placed your hands on your hips. “And what are you doing with that, beautiful one?” The bougainvillea shivered and ruffled its leaves like a scolded child, then it started pouting. Your stern face softened. “Oh come now, I’ll be coming back… it’s not like I’ll be moving away from The Gardens.” 

Ever so slowly, the vines started moving and the piece of parchment you had spent the better part of half an hour looking for, appeared. The bougainvillea offered it to you in a wilted demeanor. You took the parchment and brushed your fingers along a few leaves and flowers. 

“Don’t cry, little one, I’ll be back soon enough.” A vine curled around your finger, giving it a gentle squeeze. You smiled softly and gave the plant one last caress before pulling away. You were already late as it were. Parchment in hand, you strode out of your private courtyard, calling for your familiar. Your dove swooped through the hallways to land on your shoulder as you entered your gallery. In front of you, sheltered by seven alcoves, were the sigils of the other Endless. You walked up to the dark miniature helm that represented Dream and carefully cradled it within your palms. 

“Dream,” Your voice softly spoke, echoing through the sigil to be heard by Dream. “I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil, may I visit you and your realm?” You felt a ripple in response before Dream called back to you. 

I have already invited you to my realm, dear sister. You need not request permission so formally a second time, even if our rules demand so. 

Your lips twitched at his words, at him calling you his sister. That label had always felt strange and foreign to you. You had never felt that you were a sibling to the older Endless, you— you were something else. You had a purpose in your creation and it wasn’t to be their sibling. At least, that is what you understood about your existence. 

“Forgive me for being so rigid with decorum,” You sweetly replied. “It is my understanding that I must strictly adhere to the rules of my being, I shall arrive momentarily.” Placing Dream’s sigil back where it rested, you closed your eyes and held your hands in front of your chest, concentrating on transporting yourself to The Dreaming. It would be the first time you left The Garden since your first arrival. Flower petals and stardust swirled around you and your dove, and the serene calming aura of your realm disappeared to be replaced with one of wonder and fascination. 

You gasped at the cold stone beneath your feet and flickered your eyes open. Stretched out in front of you was a quaint village with stone cottages and smoking chimneys, the winding path you stood on continued through the village and past its boundaries to a bridge held up by hands. Beyond was a glimmering castle. This was The Dreaming. 

From behind you came the sound of shifting stone and twisting in place, you looked upwards to see a great dragon perched on Ivory gates that loomed upwards formidably. Stern eyes passed over your form shortly before the giant marble dragon swopped into the air and started flying towards the palace. Returning your attention to your surroundings, you followed the path and were instantly fascinated by the people and your surroundings. You saw clothing designs you had never seen, food you had never tasted, and creations you could never dream of. Finding yourself lingering on the fringes of the town, attention drawn to more unique statues and architecture, you just barely heard the call of a raven. Then one dove through the air and fluttered to its feet on a stack of crates nearby. You smiled. 

“Hello, Lucienne,” You softly greeted politely, your eyes flickering upwards to the palace that lay beyond the winding bridge. “I suppose I got distracted,” you moved your hands to grip your skirts sheepishly. “Please forgive me, this is my first time visiting and The Dreaming is so intriguing.” Lucienne hummed at you before tilting her head. 

“Lord Morpheus understands your curiosity and sent me to see that you are guided to wherever you so choose should you design,” Lucienne explained, shuffling her wings. Your eyebrow arched and you glanced at the palace. 

“Well, that won’t do,” You murmured, your mind remembering that you had come for a reason. You had business with Dream. “Apologies I have gotten entirely sidetracked by the realm, I have official business with Dream… do you mind escorting me to him?” Lucienne bobbed her head and took to the skies once more. Traveling across the winding bridge connecting the village to the palace, you took the opportunity to admire the beauty and structural architecture of Dream’s home. Upon entering the palace, you were led through some halls and ended up in the throne room. Dream sat upon the stairs to his throne, book hand and a studious look upon his face. You approached and paused a meter or two from the base of the stairs. Your dove cooed on your shoulder, and Dream raised his starlit eyes to yours. 

“Greetings, sister,” His deep and therapeutic voice echoed through the large room and slipped across your skin like silk. You bowed your head slightly in return. 

“My deepest apologies, Dream, for being late, it seemed that my realm was reluctant to see that I leave.” A dark elbow quirked and the corner of Dream’s mouth twitched. 

“Reluctant?” He repeated with a touch of amusement in his voice. Heat surged up your neck and into your cheeks, warming them, as you tried to beat back the embarrassment rapidly filling your body. Your dove cooed in agreement and you materialized the scrolls you needed. 

“The bougainvillea was reluctant to see me leave and thought to hide the parchments from me in a pout.” You explained with hot cheeks, your fingers rotating the parchment scroll in clear embarrassment. “I spent the better part of half an hour looking for the parchments only to discover that they had been hidden from me, intentionally.” How had a plant momentarily gotten the best of an Endless? Dream chuckled at your words, knowing how vibrant and full of life The Gardens were. It was no surprise that the realm itself did not wish for its Lady to leave. 

“It is of no concern that your realm kept you momentarily at bay, Dawn, you are all it knows,” Morpheus spoke to you gently, observing your small frame. You had always been a picture of gentle, carefree beauty. Flowing dresses, vines, and flowers woven into your hair tumbling down your back. You were the picture of nature, your timeless beauty shifting and changing with the eras. You had already shifted forms a few times, but your beauty had always remained constant. Yet at the same time, your carefree appearance was misleading. You were, perhaps, the most hardworking of the Endless. From the moment of your creation to this moment now, your sole focus and concern was on your duty and realm. Compared to Delirium, Despair, and Desire, you were far more mature. Unusually so. Mother Night and Father Time made you meticulous, hardworking, and serious. 

“Dream?” Your sweet and melodic voice drew Dream from his inner thoughts, and he shifted his eyes back to your inquisitive ones. “I can come back to do the co-filing if now is a bad time…” Dream shook his head and rose to his feet, stepping down the stairs to approach you. 

“I was merely in thought, come, the library is this way,” Dream said, looking down at you. Your eyes brightened at the mention of the library and Dream smiled at your childlike excitement, a great change from your usual serious facial expression. “I also believe I promised to show you my realm?” With a smile that could rival the brightness of a sun and unadulterated curiosity glowing in your eyes, Dream led you to his library. With your help, Dream was able to complete several dreams and get a head start on the construction of dozens more. It was a large ease in Dream’s workload and the older Endless was becoming more and more entranced with your presence. With the work completed, Dream moved onto activities that would surely bring further wonder to your eyes.

He started by showing you his palace which you had been enamored with its design and landscaping. Of course, you had fallen in love with the gardens that Mervyn maintained. If there was one thing Dream had learned about you, you absolutely adored plant life… your realm wasn't called The Gardens just because you liked plants. Then Dream showed you more of the village, letting you dart around and stare in amazement at the common places of the town. This was the most emotion he had ever seen from you, and Dream quickly found that he liked seeing you so happy. An unusual feeling for him. You were wandering towards the rocky path that lead to Fiddler’s Green when Dream stopped your midstep, arms wrapping around your fluttering body and ceasing your movement. You wobbled in surprise, your arms flailing slightly. Then your feet left the slightly cold ground and you found your body effortlessly lifted into the arms of Dream. 

“Dream?” You asked in confusion, your head tilting in confusion. His eyes met yours. 

“You might find that the pathway is… sharp, underfoot Dawn.” Dream pointed out, his silver-blue eyes glancing at your bare and unprotected feet. You still looked confused at why it was a problem but didn’t argue further. 

“If you are feeling so inclined,” You answered softly, your eyes dropping to his coat and catching sight of the stars hidden within. You reached out and traced your finger along the inner lining. He held a galaxy of stars within the inner lining of his coat? It was incredibly beautiful. Dream carried you along the rocky path until it ended and Fiddler’s Green began. As you returned to your feet and relished the feeling of soft grass beneath your toes, your head swiveled around in curiosity. Fiddler’s Green was a grand arcana that stretched over a large portion of The Dreaming. It was going to take you a long time before you fully explored the space to your heart's content. With your fingers lingering on Dream’s jacket, you looked up into his face. “Do you have a favorite place?”

Dream blinked, not expecting your question. He had to think about your question. 

“I’m afraid that I do not believe I have a favorite place with Fiddler’s Green. I spend so much time attending to my duties, I fear that I do not enjoy my realm as much as I should.” He answered you. Then he recalled a place within The Dreaming that dreamers who loved nature enjoyed walking through. Dream took one of your hands and began leading you in the direction of the field of flowers. You were happy to be led, giving you a chance to be absentminded about where your eyes wandered. The light breeze against your skin felt nice and the ground underfoot was almost softer than that of your garden. When Dream led you to a field that had an explosion of flowers of all types, you stopped short in vivid wonder. Dream watched as a multitude of emotions flickered across your face in rapid succession. It was like you were seeing the beauty of plants and flowers for the first time, and yet, did you not live in a garden of Eden?

The sight of you standing within Fiddler’s Green with such a look of wonder and enjoyment tugged at something within Dream. Perhaps his heart? No, he didn’t have a heart to be tugged… but he did know that he was drawn to your light and happiness. You looked back at Dream, your eyes sparkling but clouded with question. 

“Dream, may I ask you something?” You questioned him. Dream bowed his head to you, eager to answer any questions you had and learn everything there was to know about you. It wasn’t often that something held his fascination and attention, but you were all he could think of as of late. You picked a flower from the field and wound it through your fingers, a far-off look within your eyes. “Do you ever get lonely?” That question struck Morpheus like a blade through a heart. Painful and unexpected. He looked at your face, worry swelling within him. Were you feeling lonely so early on in your existence? Had he and his siblings failed you? You met his gaze. “Given your task of overseeing the dreams and nightmares, surely you are burdened with the emotions of the endless dreamers… I can’t even imagine what you might feel. Surely dreams are endless, how do you do it?” 

Dream stared at you in wonder. You clearly understood the gravity of your purpose and experienced it all the same… but were concerned for him, rather than yourself? Most of the Endless held egocentric, self-centered views, only thing thinking about their own domain and wishes. But not you. He was inexplicably drawn to that and felt an immense need to placate your worries. 

“That is true, I do feel immensely through the dreams and nightmares of mortals,” He admitted to you, staring into your eyes and loving the way your eyes constantly flickered with inextinguishable candlelight. Hope. “But it is their hope that is the base of their dreams and that sustains me, for what are dreams without hope?”

Your eyelids fluttered for a moment shortly before a smile blossomed on your lips of the likes Dream had never seen before. It was radiatingly gorgeous and lit up your face as he had never seen before, and it was directed at him. Dream was startled, taken aback by how beautiful your happiness was shown. But just as quickly as it had appeared, your smile was redirected as your eye caught something. You darted off with an excited giggle leaving behind a bewildered Dream in a state of confused pining. Why would Mother Night and Father Time make a sibling that he felt so drawn to, so connected with? Why did they make a sibling that Dream was falling for?

Date Published: 1/20/23

Last Edit: 1/20/23

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this was so worth my 20 minutes.. look at him.. he's glorious

“But we'll say hello again someday” bring your face closer to yours, holding it gently in your hands “I swear”

Omg.. Is mutliverse happening?

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰...

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 (you are there) - Epilogue.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Every great show must have a great ending and with that a great plot twist that accompanies it, but yours is more than an end, the most difficult farewell that any mother can dare to say.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): Bruce Wayne x ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Batmom!Reader; Dick Grayson x Batmom!Reader; Tim Drake x Batmom!Reader.

English is not my first language, please be patient.

The 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 for this history is OPEN

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Well, here is the last chapter, I hope you enjoy it. We still have to see each other in the Epilogue but the truth is this story has been an incredible journey for me and I have more plans for this world so we will see each other again.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @igotmessymind @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne

Tim heard the magic before he felt it. It was a small sound that only a trained ear could hear, Bruce had taught him to detect it, but they hadn't prepared him for what would come after that sound. 

Of course he had seen how you used it, since sometimes you used magic in the house to move from one place to another, Wayne Manor was excessively large and it was easier than walking twenty minutes to get to the kitchen, or shamelessly getting lost in the corridors. He had never been prepared to react defensively to that sound, though there wasn't much he could really do though. The magic wrapped around him tightly but harmlessly, it was actually a warm soft force around him but firm, leaving him with his arms glued to his sides and his feet dangling under him as he was lifted into the air.

“Mom” Jason's voice broke the air, but he was the only one surprised or scared by what had happened.

“Mrs Wayne, I just want to help” Tim managed to say as he watched you leave the house at a steady pace with your hands manipulating your magic to lift it into the air.

“Don’t say that. I don't want to hear about it” you said furiously while pushing the boy further away from the house thus getting away from Jason “The drones, the missiles. All these people. Bruce”You pointed accusingly, leading him further from the house, until you were in the open field between the building and the woods. Tim could see how behind you, Bruce, Diana and Clark were the only ones who stepped forward in the situation to catch them both, while Dick held Jason and forced him into the house. Dick knew that if he let the boy get in the middle of the fight, your need to protect him would only escalate the situation, so it was better for him to stay where he was safe. Tim told himself that he should thank him for that, because he was starting to feel the heat of your fury emanating from the magic around him and he was starting to sweat, he didn't need everything to get worse. Neither did you.

“He had nothing to do with all that” Clark spoke, trying to divert your attention from the boy so you'll face him. It didn't fully work, the magic remained around Tim, but you did turn to look at it, giving Tim a few valuable seconds to think clearly.

“All you do is LIE!” you told him, gritting your teeth and squeezing your hand unconsciously. You didn't want to hurt Tim. But by squeezing your hand you caused the magic to respond to your fury and squeeze Tim, the air gone from his lungs, causing him to gasp and Clark could hear the boy's bones crack at the force you had put into the magic. So he acted. But, as he reacted, Jason successfully dodged his older brother while he was busy looking worriedly at the scene and ran out of the house, brushing against the shoulder of Roy, who was casually leaning against the door frame, looking at the yard with resignation.

Clark used his heat vision in the direction of your hand to try to get you to reduce the force you were putting on the boy or just let him go. But he didn't see Jason approaching, and when he heard him it was too late, your face turned from anger to sheer terror at the thought that your son caught in the crossfire, you dropped Tim, who hit the ground with a thud, the backpack helping to break his fall. You reached out to Clark, who had to stop his Heat Vision because you'd blown a bubble around his head, which he knew for sure that no matter how much heat he applied it wouldn't let go, but you didn't end there. You picked Clark up by the neck and tossed him away as you watched Diana try to stop Jason. With your magic you grabbed her by her feet and dragged her away from your son.

Barry tried to run towards Jason to get him out of there, that would lessen the situation but you already listened to reason, and when you felt his intentions you made sure he ran into a wall of your magic at the moment he ran out of his place, leaving a stain of blood on the wall of magic. Bruce yelled your name approaching the two, causing you to look at him with red eyes of magic and clenched teeth in fury. Jason had frozen in place looking at the now bloody face of who he thought was the gardener.

“Stop, please” he begged you, but your look made more than clear that fury had blinded you. You looked at him, eyes red and ready to continue fighting. They wanted to harm your children, they wanted to take them away.

“NO” you snapped, Tim moaning in pain behind you, still lying on the floor with at least a couple of splintered ribs. Your anger was emanating from you in waves, it was as if it could practically push Bruce back every time you speak. The world around him flickered. Black and white returned, as did the 1960s setting and clothing, but the situation remained the same. “You wanna take him out there” you spit out the syllables like poison and the magic keeps pulsing out of you around him. Everything changed again, now it was the sixties, all black and white, but this time your magic was dying, losing the illusion you had managed up to now, and contrasting with the television style of that period. “Y'all want that” you looked around you. Again everything flickered as Clark tried to stand in place, quickly being held to the ground by your magic and Barry wiping the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his colorful seventies suit, the color glistening against the yellow of his shirt. Diana hadn't gotten up yet, she was dizzy “Why would you want to do this, Bruce?” you spoke directly to him, fury turning to anguish, genuinely misunderstood in his actions “Why do you want them away? They're our children, they're safe here.”the betrayal hurt but the fury was still stronger. As Bruce felt this was the most honest conversation the two of them had had in a long time, which made him more sad than happy for the breakthrough, because he had let it get to this point. “Why don't you stay?”

Jason looked between his parents, as if it were a tennis match, he felt trapped in the middle of that discussion and the worst thing is that he didn't know why. There was no way or reason for his dad to want to take them outside. Where was she supposed to go if this was his home? There they were safe where you cared for them. Why did all these people want to put them in danger?. His anguish was reflected in you, you felt it in your bones as your own and Bruce realized that, directing his attention to him for a moment.

“Jason” he called out, causing the scared boy to stare at him with wide-eyed terror “It's all good, all right, just breathe” he asked, taking a step towards the boy. A mistake that was made clear when he was thrown backwards into the air. The world began to flicker anew, in a counting and confusing way, objects changing individually between decades in a chaotic and meaningless way. Bruce fell against one of the glass doors of the house that led to the patio, breaking the structure and cutting himself. The world stopped flickering, freezing everything to whatever decade it had been before that moment.

“Don't speak to him!!”you yelled at him as you walked towards him. Arthur Victor, seeing that neither Diana, nor Clark, nor Barry was able to react fast enough, stepped forward to face you. Hal checked Bruce who slowly got up from the glass mattress where he had fallen, while Oliver took Roy and Dick and put him further into the house where Alfred received them as upset by the situation as everything. Constantine and Zatanna were nowhere to be seen, no one really knew where you had sent them when you detected their magic when you went out into the yard to attack Tim. Jason ran to stand between you and Arthur and Victor, he didn't want any of them to get close to you, he didn't trust them anymore and before you could understand what was happening, you reacted.

“STOP!!” you cry out.

Tim didn't have enough time to process what happened next, too busy processing the pain in his ribs like Bruce had taught him, he heard your scream and then when he got up your magic had spread all over the yard, like a rope that stretched around you. For a second Tim didn't understand the gravity of the situation. It was a beautiful second, because for that second Tim held out hope that he wouldn't have to do what Bruce told him he would have to do at the end. When that moment ended, he realized that there would be no happy ending, maybe that option never existed.After all, you wouldn't have your son back and they were the ones you'd have to lose him to twice. So it was time to do what had to be done. He glanced at Jason, standing a few feet from him, and Jason looked back at him.

Dick watched the scene standing directly opposite Tim's. It was like he was awake for the first time all week, he knew things were getting out of hand. He, along with Tim, Bruce, Alfred and Jason were the ones the magic didn't touch when you screamed in utter stress and overwhelmed by the amount of things going on, the magic had spread like an aggressive current, wrapping himself around the necks of everyone present once before continuing on his way to the next person.It was while you covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut without much thought, wanting to isolate yourself from the situation you were in. You were tired, you just wanted everything to stop for a moment, for everyone to shut up.

It was when the silence came that you realized your mistake.You looked up slowly, tears formed in your eyes, you saw how your magic surrounded the necks of those who were your friends. They had done bad things. They want to take your Jason away from you, but it wasn't because they were bad. They were your friends and they thought they were doing you good. They just didn't understand, but they were good, you still knew that and were sure of it. And you were hurting them.

“Mom” Dick's voice called you. you looked at him. The magic disappeared from everyone's necks, and then they disappeared from sight without even making a sound, as if they had never been there. In a sleeping limbo they were now, until you needed them or until it was all over.

“Dick” you said, tears falling freely, reaching your hands slowly towards him. Your son. Your little Dikie was there with you. You could barely move before he jumped into your arms. Neither of you was sure what would happen, you were scared, but you hugged him holding onto him, and he felt safe as you held him, because no matter the strange circumstances, you were there. His mom was there.

You saw how Bruce and Alfred were standing in the distance, next to the house, looking at the scene. The door he had landed against had been fixed, as if nothing had happened, neither were the marks on the floor from Clark's heat vision, or Diana's drag marks. Look at your husband, suddenly without a trace of glass on him and without any wound on his back. Everyone believed that he was a stoic man, that he could undergo the most horrible of tortures without blowing a whistle, not death or tragedy upset him. But as he stood there watching the scene, his eyes filled with tears as they had not in all the months since his son's death, as he came back suddenly to the moment he found his body, in the rubble, folded into a shape that was unnatural, with his eyes closed and his skin covered in bruises that would never heal.

During all these months without your youngest son, you and Bruce had drifted apart, not because you didn't love each other, but because you each got caught up in your own fantasy. You expected every morning that your son would return. All day, every day, you imagined how he would walk through the door and he would smile at you as only Jason knew how, he would ask you why you are crying and he would hug you. He would comfort you by saying that whoever it was that cruel person who had made his mother cry would deal with him, and he would say it with a tone so serious that it would make you laugh. He'll laugh with you. While Bruce clung to the idea that if he did his job well enough, if he took care of Tim, if he made sure to help Gotham p and at the same time make young Timothy live a full life, his son would finally visit him in dreams. It wouldn't be a nightmare, where he told her how much he hated him and that it was his fault he was dead. He would visit him to tell her that he had done well, that he had finished the job that both of them had started and that is why he was now at peace. But neither would ever happen.

Above the whisper of the wind, just for you to understand, Bruce had a thought, so pure and genuine that there was no way he wouldn't feel it too. I'm sorry, he whispered in his own mind, knowing that you would hear him. Me too, you replied with a sad smile over your eldest son's shoulder. War is over, Alfred thought, and felt he might as well cry. He would cry for the loss of his grandson, for the suffering of his son, he would cry for how no matter how much tea or sandwiches he had made you there they would all have ended up the same, in a fantasy where nothing bad had happened, accepting that it was time to return to home, even when the fantasy felt more like home now than the real world. It was time.

Tim led Jason back to the tree where they'd first met, the place where the burial was. When they got there she realized that Jason's appearance was again at odds with reality: he was fifteen years old, bright baby blue eyes, dimples in his cheeks, a red hoodie, and ripped jeans that hadn't been like that when you bought them, but they were his favorites.

“I have to go now” Tim told him, looking at him, and for a second he allowed himself to feel sad “But I need you to give something to your mom” he said pulling the backpack off his back and opening it, he looked Jason in the eye one last time before doing so. His eyes filled with tears and he allowed himself to think about what a life would be like with you as his mother, with Bruce as his father, with both showering him with love and attention the way Jason had enjoyed in life. He imagined what it would have been like if the boy before him was alive and was his older brother. He smiled sadly as he pulled the battered, torn, and still bloody Robin suit from his backpack, to offer it to Jason. Jason didn't look at him again, and Tim watched you approach in the distance, with the nerve of someone headed for his own death. Your eyes met his, and where Tim expected anger, disappointment, or sadness, he was met with a genuine tenderness that had never been directed at him. You made a silent gesture of thanks, stopping a few feet behind Jason. Tim felt relieved, you didn't hate him despite everything, he hoped that when it was all over it would continue like this. 

He had admired you from the first time he had seen you on television when he was five years old, fighting alongside the rest of the Justice League and had cried when it was announced that the Scarlet Witch had died to save the world. He felt happy for the first time in a long time and looked at Jason one last time before, wondering if the boy ever knew how lucky he was to have you in life and death as his mother (Jason knew). He allowed himself the hope that in some time line, he would have that honor too, he could also be your son and have your love in life and death (Tim already had your love, but he didn't know it yet). 

With that Tim Drake said goodbye to The Wayne´s Show for now and got lost in the woods, never to be seen by viewers anymore.

The suit in his hands was smooth, but there were burnt edges, which were rough against his soft hands that had never granted pain or labor. Jason moved slowly, staring at the garment, almost mesmerized, as if there were a piece of the puzzle in it, something intangible he couldn't quite figure out.

“Jay, baby” you called him, with a sweet but sad voice. Your son, your Jason, looked up from that cursed garment and looked at you “We need to talk-” Jay cut you off before you could say more and you almost thanked him for it, you wouldn't have known how to continue the conversation anyway.

“Mom” he said, dropping the garment in his hand to the floor, as if it meant nothing and then walking towards you, stepping on it as he passed without looking where it had fallen. That gesture made all the aversion you had towards that suit vanish, it didn't matter anymore “Mom-” his mouth opened a few times, it felt like the words were attacking his throat. Jason wanted to know, but he wasn't sure he wanted whatever it was he was going to do to get that answer. Noticing and giving him a reassuring smile, Jason released a heavy sigh that he didn't know had been saved and finally asked “Mom, what am I?”.

You walked toward him at a slow pace, admiring his features, the way his hair refused to be completely straight or curled, the way he stood almost level with you despite only being fifteen. You put your hands on his cheeks, feeling the softness of his skin under your hands once more, and looked into his eyes before answering.

“Jason Peter Todd. You, my dearest boy, are the piece of the Darkhold that lives in me. A body that believes based on what we live together, and what we don't too. You are my sadness and my hope. But most importantly, you're my love and you will always be” you explained. The information entered Jason's mind like a gentle ocean wave washing away tracks in the sand, but this time the wave filled empty space with information, and filled in all the illogicalities in his memory and also the memories that weren't there, the ones that he hadn't really lived. But the circumstances of his own existence hit him, out of the corner of his eye he could give up as if the world closed around him, but he wasn't scared.

“Do we have to say goodbye?” He asked you in the same way that he always asked if it was time to go to sleep, to then ask for five more minutes of light to read another chapter of his favorite book.

“Yes, son, we have to” you told him with regret, feel your tears fall down your cheeks again “But we'll say hello again someday” bring your face closer to yours, holding it gently in your hands “I swear” you promised him before looking at him for the last time, then you closed your eyes to kiss his forehead and so the inevitable arrived.

Unlike the other time, Jason didn't feel afraid or terrified at the idea of “dying”, because his mom had made him a promise and she always kept them. So he enjoyed the sensation of your smell flooding his nose, of your hands when his face with such care and delicacy, of your lips kissing your forehead, before his existence dissolved. His last thought was that, although he did not quite understand what his first life had been like, or understood the memories he had of it, he hoped that if he lived more lives you would continue to be his mother in each and every one of them.

Bruce found you, once the fog in his mind lifted and he realized there was no anomaly anymore, standing where Tim had left you. With your back to him, you held Jason's old Robin suit in your hands, you looked at it with a mixture of affection and sadness.Everything was over, but at the same time it was just beginning, just now you and your husband could properly process the joint loss of your son, as if right at that moment you both hit bottom in the deepest point of the ocean, meeting for the first time with the true cold and desolation of the situation. The fantasies of the miraculous return, of the dreams where they promise peace, of the sitcoms where at the end of the episode all the problems were solved no matter how serious they were, had ended. That would not happen. But now that reality no longer sinks you like quicksand, and as you and Bruce hold each other in front of Jason's grave that day was the first time you both felt so genuinely alive in a long time.

You were alive. Your family was alive. And that was something as beautiful as it was tragic, the purest magic in the world from your point of view.

Although the idea that life itself is magic is one that your husband has always discussed with you since the day you met. But that could be a story for another time.

I have seen much speculation on the high quality of Dream of the Endless as a romantic partner, and I have seen many refute such speculations, mainly citing Nada as proof that Dream is a terrible, capricious lover doomed to failure.

Personally, I think it would fall somewhere in the middle. Dream is, by most accounts, a passionate and considerate lover.

Consider Calliope’s words from the comics: “He was the most gallant of lovers… He delighted in sharing his knowledge. He had a castle filled with treasures, and took such pleasure in showing them, giving them to me. He was so gentle, and his skin felt like white silk against my skin… when we made love, it was like a flame: I felt utterly engulfed, utterly loved. Treasured.”

Or words from another former lover: “…we began a conversation, which stretched over many weeks. And, at the end, he invited me to remain in the Dreaming, as a guest… He began, rather nervously, to court me. And I began, also rather nervously, to be courted. And we were both, initially, extremely happy. He loved me. I do not doubt that.”

In summary, as a lover, Dream is, in essence, a dream :)

And like a dream, it fades.

His first and foremost priority is, and always has been, his duty. Once he’s settled into a relationship, once the shine has worn off, he goes back to work, and his lover is left for when he feels like stopping by.

Both mentioned relationships end this way. A slow drifting away…

And once the drift begins, well. Nada was an extreme example, but reject him, insult him, even if it’s just a loss of temper, and a lover will find themselves shown the door and banned from returning. His anger, his hurt, is cold and sharp and cutting, like the nightmares he rules, and he holds grudges for millennia.

Dating Dream would be a dream, but the breakup is a nightmare.

Enjoy!

This is the lucky clover cat. reblog this in 30 seconds & he will bring u good luck and fortune.