The Sandman X Reader - Tumblr Posts

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🚫Don't repost or use without permission🚫

🚫Don't repost or use without permission🚫

🚫Don't repost or use without permission🚫

“That you acted like that around him and his people because you loved and trusted them, just as they loved and trusted you

Your devotion was clear, just as his was. In his own way”

Stop that was beautiful and that last part I- 😭😭

Morpheus Having A Dramatic Partner Would Include

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Warnings: 🤷‍♀️ None

Notes: I am so sorry how long this took me to get to writing lol.

Requested by: @httptanjiroluvr @jinxthequeergirl @cynic-spirit

Morpheus and everyone who knew him had no idea how your relationship came to be. No idea how the two of you functioned together.

You were dramatic and chaotic, cracking jokes and putting on performances at every opportunity.

Every room you were in became lively, as you engaged the people in conversation and your jokes.

Some loved it, some found it a little bothersome.

For Morpheus, he expected to find it annoying (and sometimes you crossed that line), but a lot of the time he was endeared by you.

So much of life is monotonous when he's lived forever, so little excitement when he's seen everything.

But you could always be relied upon to make things a little more interesting.

Lucienne would bring your breakfast when you were helping her out in the library one day.

Your reaction was a pretentious and grandiose speech about how Lucienne was your bestest friend and that you were filled with gratitude from her kindness. (Even dipping your hand in water to tap it onto your face to mimic tears)

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smirk at your antics.

Lucienne liked you, liked how you could raise the spirits of the people who worked in the Dreaming. As well as when you got Morpheus to be less tense and pretentious

You'd help out it dream designing, even directing the story of individual dream.

Morpheus decided that since you were dramatic, he might as well give you a job that you could use that personality trait for.

And you put your whole heart into the job, just like you do everything else.

Getting the dreams and nightmares to act out the dreams, giving them encouragement and support.

Once or twice, you’d even get Morpheus to help out. Refusing to let him leave until he’s fully committed to the act.

He only consented to that because he loves you, although he has too much dignity to help you with your dream plays more than a couple of times

Sometimes, your dramatics will rub off on him. There would be times when the two of you weren’t speaking as much as he would like and he would go off and sulk, pretending to be angry or hurt to get your attention.

You guessed what he was doing pretty quickly, playing along to protect his dignity. Showering him with love and attention.

The two of you would spend the day together, catching each other up on what you had been doing. Talking about your future together

When he first fell in love with you, he was a little cautious about you being around when he was having meetings with leaders from other realms.

To his relief, however, you were very professional. Acting like a queen as you conversed with the diplomats.

And as soon as they left, you would go back to your cheerful and wild self.

"So you behave for the Faerie envoy, but not for me?" Morpheus teased, wrapped his arms around your waist as he kissed you. Having just found you trying to completely redecorate your room by moving all the heavy furniture by yourself.

You just shrugged, grinning at him. "Well, I trust you. I like you."

What was when he knew how much he adored you, when he realized that this dramatic act was you trusting him with your honest self.

That you acted like that around him and his people because you loved and trusted them, just as they loved and trusted you

Your devotion was clear, just as his was. In his own way.

Taglist @stygianoir @minetticatinwonderland @fangirlmary @absbdbshhs @kiki13522

Repost of this because Tumblr made it disappear from the tag page and it got ignored. (It's now back in there but I doubt people will find it anymore as most won't scroll very far)

Fem reader + Morpheus and their newborn son, their son can sleep only in Morpheus' arms.

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x fem!reader

A/N: I want to thank you all for feedback you've given me for my floundering pieces for Morpheus as I'm still learning how to write him properly ❤️ I'll answer your feedbacks when I can but I just wanted to say I really appreciate them and they give me a kick to keep going 🤩

Word count: 625

Ever since your son had been born, he hadn't been a very good sleeper. He woke up multiple times screaming every night, and as your love and the boy's father Morpheus was working, you were the one trying to lull your son back to sleep.

You thought he'd be an easy sleeper, being the son of the King of Dreams, in a way of King of Sleeping too. It was kind of stupid, you knew it but even still, you thought you would be able to actually sleep at night.

You had read about baby colic when Lucienne proposed it being the reason and wondered if that was it, but he wasn't really crying at daytime, only at night. Your body begged for sleep as you sat beside his crib, trying to lull him back to sleep but you felt like your son felt your tiredness which made him cry even harder.

This night was even worse than usually. You had carried him around the bed chambers, tried to read to him and sing to him, but all this did was make him cry louder and more intensely. And when you got so close to sleeping, Morpheus came into the room. You sighed heavily as you saw him and he frowned.

"What happened?" He asked with concern in his eyes. "I heard him crying from here."

"I don't know," you said frustratedly, shaking your head. "He's crying every night, I can't sleep because of it."

"Why have you not told me?" he scolded gently, leaning down towards your son.

"I just didn't want you to worry," you murmured softly. "And you have so much work and stuff to think and take care of-"

"You would never bother me with things that concern our son. He is mine just as much as he is yours." He muttered as he took another step forward.

"I'm sorry... I should know that." You whispered as he leaned over your son.

"Let me hold him." His hands took your son from you and before you could protest, he laid in his arms. Immediately, there were no tears or screams as Morpheus cradled his son in his arms and you stared at the sight for a moment before you smiled, almost not believing it.

"He stopped crying." You whispered in awe. "How did you do it?"

Morpheus chuckled warmly. "I am his father after all, and the King of Dreams."

You chuckled as you stroked your son's soft, black locks as his eyes began to finally close. Your fingers drifted along his cheeks and soon, he fell asleep with ease. You let out a relieved sigh before your exhaustion kicked in.

"Go to sleep, my love." Morpheus told you with a kiss on your cheek and a tender smile. "You need rest more than anything right now."

You nodded tiredly and gave him a small nod before you retreated to the bed, falling asleep almost immediately after your head touched your soft pillow.

And Morpheus sat down on the armchair with your son still in his arms, glancing at you every once in a while with a soft smile on his face, then back at his son sleeping soundly and he wouldn't lie, he felt proud seeing his son could be able to sleep in his arms and it made him happier than in ages.

Something so small and fragile sleeping and seeing a dream Morpheus didn't want to invade right now, wanting to relish this moment within his busy days for once - and he made a mental note to help him sleep for the following nights too.

You needed to sleep so you could be your sunny self at daytime, and he wouldn't mind sitting there with your son more either.

<3

D is for -I know your dirty little secret!

Dirty Secret- I refuse to apologies for this! I DARE you to tell me you wouldn’t :P

Very smutty 18+

As always your comments feed my writing.

Dedicated to @layla2-49​ @nushy​ @wandas-soulmate​ @dilf-of-the-endless​

Keep reading

I need more <3

Meet Me In The Afterglow - Morpheus x Reader

Hey It’s all me in my head I’m the one who burned us down But it’s not what I meant Sorry that I hurt you I don’t wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you I don’t wanna lose, I don’t wanna lose this with you I need to say, hey It’s all me, just don’t go Meet me in the afterglow

Summary: You’re having a pleasant time relaxing with your friend away from your duties when Morpheus shows up in your simple and uncomplicated life you’ve built in the mortal world. Morpheus has not changed his mind on his stance to make things right with you but have you changed your mind on giving him a chance to prove himself?

Pairing: Morpheus x Goddess of Hope Reader

Warnings: Toxic Relationship

A/N: Hi everyone! First of all, I have to say thank you so much for your love and support for the Part 1 of this fic  it’s time to go ! I honestly did not expect so many lovely comments and support from everyone, it made me so happy because I had never written Morpheus before and was truly anxious in taking such an iconic character to write! I also wrote the first part as therapy for my personal life, so seeing you guys connect with it and support Hope meant more to me than you can know!

So here is Part 2 of  it’s time to go that you’ve been asking for and I hope you really like it! Thank you so much for the love, it means so much to me - seriously, you are amazing! Let me know if you like it, your feedback means so much to me!

Part 1 - it’s time to go

Your duties provided you great comfort but if someone asked you what have you hope, you would say it was the little family of mortal companions you had found over the years in Morpheus’ absence.

Some died and withered away for they were only mortal but the love you had for them never faded away. The memories you shared with them burned warmly and brightly giving you hope and strength to carry on when times were hard and cruel to you.

And now you were accompanying your friend Ben with his three kids to the park. Ben was a single dad, divorced and struggling to parent his kids amidst his work schedule and his ex wife refusing to take responsibility. He was nice and kind man and a good father to the handful of mischief makers. You had known Ben since he was a child for you were the Goddess of Hope who had taken care of him by giving him hope but you had met him later on. You felt a kinship toward Ben from your personal experience in life. You both had difficult spouses who had emotionally neglected and hurt both of you and you both longed for a family where explosions and grief would never have a place. Soon Ben had become a close friend of yours and you found yourself going out for drinks, babysitting the kids, taking walks in the park and helping him out when he was overworking.

He was telling you about a blind date completely gone wrong and he was devastated while you listened sympathetically while drifting in and out of your thoughts. You wished you could exchange places with him in life at the moment. Experiencing a blind date gone wrong seemed more pleasant to you than being plagued by thoughts of Morpheus’ return and his intentions to fix what was irretrievably broken.

“And it was a disaster!” exclaimed Ben waving his hands energetically that you had to duck down to avoid getting slapped but you were amused. There was never a dull moment in his company. “I’m never going to find love! I’m going to die a classically handsome lonely man while you sob at my bedside and beg me not to leave you.”

You snorted at his dramatic flair but you could feel the growing sense of loneliness and despair radiating from him as you placed your arm gently upon his shoulder and looked at his expression of pain “Ben, look… there is someone out there… with incredibly low standards, a super weird taste for ice cream and they are waiting for you!”

You could feel his loneliness slightly begin to fade as your hope fused through him softly and tenderly but the nagging sense of doubt was still present though he laughed shakily and you strengthened your weaving of threads of hope into him “You are not going to die alone. Trust me, you are going to find someone who is going to love you heart and soul deeply and truly. They will give you the kind, gentle, warm love… the love of a home and family that will make all your dreams come true. You will always be enough for them.”

Your hope had quietly woven into him and was now spreading through him warmly and steadily washing away the nagging doubts, insecurities and fears that only he struggled with and you could feel as its darkness was replaced with golden light. 

He smiled through his tears, a smile of strength and renewed hope “You’re right. You’re always right. How is it you manage to give me hope when I need it the most?”

You smile widely and wink at him “It’s my gift.”

He laughed in amusement thinking you were joking and you laughed glad to see him smile in good spirits again. You wrapped him in a warm embrace as you strengthened and weaved your threads of hope around and through him to protect him against despair. All mortals were important to you but when you saw your friend without hope, that bought something fearful in you that you needed to fix with your own gift. 

He buried his head in the crook of your shoulder “Thanks, mate. For being there for me.”

“Always.”

“How’s your love life?” queried Ben in unhidden curiosity as you broke the hug, his eyes twinkling in mischief as he sighed dramatically “Or am I going to waste my years of life repeatedly watching you fail to get a date?”

“I didn’t fail!” you exclaimed indignantly while he roared in good natured laughter and you were so lost in his outrageous accusation that you momentarily forgot Morpheus “I just -”

“Rejected and refused those who asked you out a dozen times.” completed Ben with a reminiscent mischievous smile and you shook your head at those memories. 

“The circumstances arose giving me compelling insight as to not to pursue romance a wise course of action.” you replied with as much dignity the Goddess of Hope could muster. 

Ben scrunched his nose and then rolled his eyes knowingly at your words “Meaning… you failed.”

“Meaning….” you groaned wishing the thoughts of Morpheus would just bloody leave you alone. His apology. The shame and the regret flashing vividly in his eyes. The tenderness and softness in his voice when he had spoken to you, the desperation to make you stay with him. The firm and steady conviction when he said he intended to fix your marriage. “I’m hopeless!”

Ben shrugged as he nodded his head “We both are.”

“Because I’m alone, let’s face it. No one wants me.” you said quietly but there was an ache of sadness and insecurity in her heart that had never quite disappeared even after all these centuries. The ache of never been good enough put there in her by the very man who promised to fix their broken marriage. 

Morpheus. 

“I mean, we both totally suck.” said Ben with a thoughtful nod “You know what will fix it?”

“What?”

“Ice cream!” 

You laughed cheering up at the thought of ice cream as the kids chanted for ice cream along with their equally childish dad. Ben bought all of them ice - cream and to the delight of his kids, they could have as much as they wanted though you disapproved in amused exasperation knowing the sugar rush would be a menace to deal with later. But the bright smiles on their faces were worth it as they waited in line. 

Ben leaned in whispered “Um - you want to do the thing where we cheat and play dirty?”

You grinned “Sure.”

Ben stepped up to the ice cream cart and his kids watched what would unfold every time they wanted free dessert. He placed the order and when the time came to pay, you had waxed a poetic about how you had got engaged to him while his kids rolled their eyes and hid their mischievous grins “Ben and I met at this very park when he was with his kids and it’s really special to us. We just got engaged and remember this is where our first date was too!”

Ben played into the familiar routine as he leaned into your intertwined arm with a smile “Oh yeah. I didn’t know if she was going to say yes but I’m so glad she did!”

“Oh I love how nervous you were, my darling.” you said dramatically with such a happy smile making one of the kids wheeze in laughter and then cough when their dad sent a ‘don’t blow this for us’ glare subtly his way and the rest of the kids shushed him and you kissed him on the cheek to make the act more believable. 

You could feel Ben trying to hold in his laughter too as the ice cream vendor looked visibly touched by this romantic display of affection “You are just the sweetest couple together! You know what, ice cream is on me!”

“It is!? What a totally unexpected thing that we both never expected to happen!” exclaimed Ben in complete feigned shock while you pretended to be surprised as his kids giggled but all of you thanked the kind vendor for the ice cream. 

The kids indulged in their ice cream laughing at the little prank while you watched them with fondness. You never had children with Morpheus. He never wanted children after his loss of his son. He never wanted you. At least, that was the impression that he made upon you. 

But you wanted a family. A large brood of children running around and playing games and creating mischief, children who you could take care of and pour all the love in your heart to and build a happy home with. You dreamed of being wanted, of being important to someone. But your cold husband indulged in his pleasures and vices while you contended to looking at the happy families of the mortal realm in wistful longing wishing for what they had and giving hope and talking to children who were drawn to you during your visits in the Waking World. 

They always cheered you up even during the darkest times in your marriage to Morpheus. You still remembered once you had been adrift and unanchored after a particularly cold conversation where you were merely tolerated and unwanted but a mortal child had come up to you and tugged at your dress asking you what was wrong. You simply spoke in riddles, telling the child that you had lost your friend. The child had simply advised not to think about what was lost and cheered you up with simple and silly anecdotes of what he did when he lost something. 

He had died a long time ago but had lived a good life. You had watched over him, in his darkest times cared for him and given him hope just as he had given you that day. 

Perhaps that’s why you were so fond of humanity. In a way, they were all your children constantly whining for your attention, constantly needed to be taken care of, constantly loving you and finding you important.

You smiled endeared by the innocence of Ben’s children “You spoil them.”

“You are too stern.”

“Untrue. I have a job to keep those shitheads safe and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.” you said seriously eliciting a chuckle from Ben who reprimanded your language hoping that his kids hadn’t heard your colorful vocabulary. “Any parent knows that.”

You spoiled children. You adored them. But if something endangered them, you was very protective of them. You would not let them get hurt. 

Ben looked at his friend who he felt he knew and yet there was so much he didn’t know about her “Are you a parent?”

A flash of sadness passed your face and Ben asked “Do you want to be a parent?”

There was a long silence as you watched the children play carefree and happily in the park and smiled wistfully and longingly “I once had a dream. One day I would have a really big family with six or seven kids and we’d have these really big birthday parties and loud family dinners and bedtime stories for everyone. There would be no anger, no worry, no breaking glass, no screaming. Our home would be safe, warm and gentle and I’d protect them and love them and comfort them.”

“But dreams don’t come true. Not for me.” you sighed as you thought of your cold husband who had returned and bought with him the heaviness of the grief and tension of the past that you had tried so hard to forget. “I can never really have that.”

“What? Because of your ex- boyfriend?” queried Ben who knew about your past relationship but you had not told him of Morpheus and who he really was to you “Has he reached out to you?”

“Kind of. He wants to fix things.”

Ben snorted but he was still concerned “Fuck that guy. He should have treated you well when he had you.”

“I know.” you replied feeling tense as you groaned “Everything was fine… pleasant and simple until he reached out. Now I’m just trying to get him out of my head.”

“Look, I’m not in a position to offer you advice. But I want you to be careful. People like him, people like my wife… they say they want to fix things because they are afraid of losing us.” said Ben quietly and sincerely as he reached out to touch your hand gently “The truth is… they aren’t afraid of losing us. They are afraid of losing something constant, steady in their lives because then who will they be without that constant?”

You had not thought of that way. You had always thought of yourself as useless, forgettable, disposable, unimportant and a waste of time to the Lord of Dreams. It was how he had made you feel all this years… unwanted and important. It was so cruel how a man could make an all powerful goddess feel that you were not important. Even when mortals and your own friends wanted your companionship and thought of you as funny, kind and lovable, the very things you believed yourself not to be, you thought they were lying to you. But with time and patience, they proved you wrong as they showed you that they truly loved you and wanted you around which was a strange sensation to get used to after feeling unwanted and lonely for centuries. It had been hard at first believing yourself to be lovable and opening yourself up but you healed with the unwavering support and understanding of your friends who you was so fond of. 

“I am not going to tell you to go back in. But I want you to have no regrets, Y/N. If he is here with good intentions of definitely fixing the relationship, you should see what he does to prove it. See whether his actions speak louder than words. If he really wants to fix your relationship, he will prove it to you by showing you and fixing his mistakes. But don’t forget. You don’t get to be punished for being angry or for not forgiving. It’s you that must decide what you want.” said Ben wisely and kindly as he squeezed your hand gently with a soft smile. 

Somehow, his advice cleared doubts in your head as you smiled kindly at Ben as you lay your head on his shoulder “Thank you. You have taught me something very important.”

You felt peace as you closed your eyes. You listened to the sounds in the park and opened your eyes as you and Ben watched the kids play and talked and teased each other. You were both laughing loudly at an anecdote of your past when you suddenly felt the strong presence echo within you, around you, surround you. 

The presence of your husband, Morpheus. 

You swore silently as you felt the peace within you fade and become replaced with anger and rage. What part of goodbye did he not understand? You did not want to see him! You didn’t want to hear from him! You didn’t want to listen to his pretty speech of apologies that he didn’t mean and look at you as if he adored you when he clearly never wanted you in the first place. He was the man who had made you hate your reflection and doubt your character as lovable for years and years. 

How dare he impose on your pleasant and simple life in the Waking World, your home of peace and content and bliss that you had carefully built away from him, painfully mending and healing yourself from the very wounds that he had inflicted upon you! 

He had to go. You would make him leave. 

It did not take you very long to locate Morpheus in the park as all traces of smiles and laughter faded from your face seeing him stand out in the park dressed in his dark coat, his dark hair contrasting with his ghostly pale face that wore an expression of quiet solitude and reflective pain. You felt like smacking him as your quiet rage grew when his starlit eyes met yours with sadness and hurt, desperation and shock as he observed you with Ben. 

You could almost hear what he was thinking as you glimpsed the slight betrayal and shock in his eyes that were fixed on both of you. You knew he was thinking that you had broken your vows and betrayed him. You knew he was thinking that you had grown tired of being neglected and lonely in your marriage and found companionship and affection as you had fallen in love and taken the hand and heart of another man. You knew he was feeling numb with desperation and shock wondering what had gone wrong, why you had broken your promise to him. 

You knew exactly how he was feeling because you had felt that way a million times and died every time you felt that way. 

And Morpheus who had broken your heart and bruised you black and blue, had no right to stare at you as if you had broken your vows and betrayed him when he had broken every vow and promise of their marriage and made a mockery of your naivety of believing that he would change but never did. 

You felt anger blazing, so furious and large, it could consume the world if you let it. But you controlled yourself as you tossed on your coat as you muttered “Screw new chances to that stupid fucking ex.” 

“Oh my god, you’re a whole new woman.” teased Ben but he looked slightly concerned at the fuming rage on your face. 

You marched toward Morpheus with determination and fury, well hidden from the rest of the world but he could feel it with every step you took toward him as you snapped “Have you no shame? I have never met a man as brazenly arrogant and presumptuous as you!”

“I only wanted to see you.” said Morpheus softly taken aback by your blazing fury as he felt the full force of your anger in the glare directed at him. He had given you a few days to become accustomed to his return and given you space but he had thought by now you would have calmed down and thought about his proposition for your future together. He had expected a part of you to be cold and detached but to see you unwelcoming and furious even after a few days was a new sensation to him as he felt hopelessness settle within him again. 

He hoped the gift he had bought you would calm you down and make you happy. Make you see that he had no ill - intentions toward you, only feelings of good intentions to fix what he had broken and be the husband that you deserved from the very beginning. 

Morpheus offered you the bouquet of flowers that he gripped tightly in his hands and you looked surprised “These are for you. I thought you might like them.”

You scowled but quietly thought the lilies were lovely. But that did not soften your heart. It would take more than flowers to heal your heart and mend what was broken. 

You saw Morpheus wear an expression of nervousness and anxiety as you eyed the flowers skeptically as if it might turn into a demon the moment you accepted them and he felt skittish as he said “I - do you like them? I didn’t know your favorite flowers. I should have thought of bringing your favorite color but I wasn’t certain which color you’d prefer.”

“That says a lot about our relationship.” you remarked sarcastically and bitterly still not accepting the flowers that felt like a bribe rather than a peace offering to mend this relationship. You were glad that he was uncomfortable and nervous, though it surprised you that he cared about what you thought about the flowers that he had bought for you. “Now, take your Trojan horse and leave.”

“I assure you these flowers are of good intentions.” said Morpheus sincerely as he felt a shadow of heartache lingering as he wanted you to come back to him but he knew his vices and mistakes had pushed you away and filled you with distrust and doubt toward him “I meant every word I said. I wish to make amends between us.”

“Stick it up your ass.” you said fiercely after a long moment of silence as you stared at Morpheus’ sincerity and truth etched on his face but you didn’t want to believe him. You couldn’t let yourself believe him again because believing him again meant becoming the naïve foolish girl who believed in second chances and romance. 

Morpheus looked taken aback by your words and you felt glad. You would not let him break the fierce spirit and strength you had built without him but he said softly “I - I want to court you properly and be the husband you deserved in the first place. I want to be a better man for you.”

You shook your head with determination as you felt a lump of emotion rise up in your throat at the remembrance of all the lonely nights and the days of humiliation and unbearable pain that you had managed to bear “But I can’t believe you. I just can’t. I won’t do it. I won’t let you fool me into believing that you care for me just because you learned humility trapped for over centuries in a cage!”

You turned away trying to hide your tears because you did not want to cry in front of Morpheus, you did not want to appear weak in front of him but his soft and smooth voice addressed you “Is it because you are in love with him?”

In truth, Morpheus was jealous. He knew he had lost the right to be jealous a long time ago but he could not help feeling that he had lost you. He had seen you laughing, happiness and warmth radiating from her very being as you leaned and held onto your mortal companion with such intimacy and affection that your marriage never had but could have had, if he had just tried harder and given his best to you. You looked so happy and light - hearted, something Morpheus had never seen you before. In the course of his marriage to you, he had only seen you smile a few times, but those smiles were strained and sad. There had been no warm laughter or intimate touches or teasing bantering of friendship and respect between them. You had always been haunted by the look of sadness and grief in your heart that would have loved him for a lifetime but with your new mortal companion, you seemed to be happier. 

It took a few moments for you to process what Morpheus had said as your eyes followed Morpheus’ gaze toward Ben who was watching the two of you carefully with concern and protectiveness while playing with his children. 

You suddenly understood the depth of what Morpheus implied and stated as you felt the sudden urge to strangle the King of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares as you whirled around with a gleam of fury in your eyes, the tears completely vanished replaced by absolute anger at being insulted in such a low manner “Oh you fucking, cold hearted piece of shit -”

A few passer by shot shocked looks at you and concerned mothers covered their childrens’ ears as they asked you to mind your language but you couldn’t find yourself to care. 

You poked him in his chest as you scowled angrily “Out of the two of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t broken my word and promises. So my word, is the one we’ll be trusting!”

“I apologize. It was not my intention to upset -”

“Oh really! Because upset is not how I feel right now!” you said fiercely with the sadness and heartbreak, anger and pain swelling up in you that you did not trust yourself not to smack Morpheus in front of everyone “Do you know what I am so sick of you playing games with me! I don’t want to be a quest to clear your guilty conscience. You don’t love me. You’re doing this because you want to feel better about yourself and hold onto the one person in your past. You didn’t think I would leave you, I would run. You thought I would always be here for you but guess what, shithead? I’m not here for you!”

Your voice was significantly rising higher while trembling in pain and anger “You don’t want me, you never did and you never will. You don’t truly understand the damage you did to me. You were unkind, cruel, heartless, cold - no - you know what you were? You were my husband making me feel like a complete idiot for loving you!”

“You’re not a quest. I - I haven’t been able to function these past days without you haunting my thoughts. I think about how I mistreated you, neglected you, made you fear me when all you did was give me all your love.” said Morpheus gently with desperation and pain as he stared at you holding your guard up eyeing him distrustfully but listening to him as he swallowed his pride “I remember how you were always so faithful and caring and all I gave you was pain and heartbreak throughout the decades. I wish I realized what I had when you were mine… I would go back in time and take back all the hurt but I can’t. All I want is to make it all up to you, to show you that I am truly sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. For breaking your heart. I won’t stop trying to show you how truly sorry I am even if you do not love me anymore.”

“I’m not certain I love you anymore. But it takes more than even the Ruler of Nightmares to break the Goddess of Hope.” you said with a small smile slightly taken aback at the kind words but then you scowled “Thank you for your apology. But I am not certain of your intentions. I don’t think I’ll ever be certain of anything you say to me.”

“Then let me prove my intentions to you.” pressed Morpheus with such tenderness and sincerity in his eyes that you couldn’t bear to look and with a surge of courage, he reached out his hand to you “Please.”

You flinched because you weren’t used to tenderness and kindness from Morpheus. It was easier to hate him than give him a chance to prove himself. You had every right to refuse his hand. So you did not take his hand out of pride and respect to yourself. You didn’t believe he had earned the right to hold your hand. 

“What kind of husband have I been for you to fear me that you cannot take my hand?”

“I don’t fear you. You have not earned the right to my hand.” you replied haughtily, your pride and arrogance disguising your alarm and surprise at Morpheus offering you his hand and you didn’t know how to respond as you had frozen, your brain short circuiting. Morpheus was never one who was fond of touch. You had tried to reach for his hand at the beginning of your marriage but it had been made clear that he despised your touch. Now here he was begging for you to hold his hand. 

“But I was cruel to subject you to a loveless and hopeless marriage.” said Morpheus, his heart shattered by the refusal but knowing that he deserved every bit of her wrath and spite as he looked at your hand wondering how it would feel in his “I was unkind and unfaithful to you. I did not have to be so. I want to know you. To have the happiness and love we could have shared together if I had been a better man.”

You should make up an excuse about hearing a mortal call out for your help because this was too overwhelming for you “My Lord -”

“Morpheus.” he insisted sadly

You rolled your eyes sassily knowing that you’d rather die than obey him “My Lord -”

But what you were going to say was interrupted by loud cheerful laughter and shrieks “Y/N, Y/N! Help me!”

Max, the youngest of Ben’s children was running from Stacy, the second youngest who was pretending to be a mean dragon while Elle, the oldest was trying to stop Stacy from chasing Max. You grinned as you saw their fun and games forgetting your problem as you jumped into their pretend game of pirates and dragons and princesses and monsters. You slung Max over your shoulder and roared at Stacy while they giggled as you pretended to be the witch who slayed the dragon. Max wrapped his arms around you while you stopped Stacy muttering gibberish dramatically as Elle laughed at your dramatics. 

“You’re safe, Your Highness!” you exclaimed dramatically as you ruffled Max’s hair fondly and playfully as you hugged him “The dragon has been slayed and defeated! Victory is yours!”

“Thank you, my protector of my realm!” exclaimed Max while Stacy whined and stuck out her tongue at Max who you put down “You’re the best!”

Stacy began to bicker with her brother about who was the best and you intervened clapping her hands to get their attention as you solved their argument with the patience of saints of ages when Elle spotted someone behind you and inquired “Hey, who is that creep in black?”

You had been so lost in trying to knock out the competitiveness between Stacy and Max that you had forgotten Morpheus standing behind you. He was staring at you intensely with soft admiration, curious wonder and wistful sadness as he watched you play and bicker and deal with the children wondering whether this had been one of the dreams he had cruelly crushed in the years of their marriage. 

Elle raised her knowing teenage eyebrows at you and then addressed Morpheus directly and fearlessly “Hey! Shithead! Why are you staring at Y/N? Do you know her or something?”

You really should get paid to babysit these three kids as you muttered “Oh my god. Where are you learning those kind of words? Mind your fucking language, Elle.”

Morpheus shot a pointed yet amused look at your hypocrisy and delightfulness when dealing with these children as he understood where this child might have learned such language from. He looked at Elle shrug innocently when you shot her a reprimanding glare but he answered the red - headed girl who was waiting for an answer 

“Yes.”

“How do you know her?” asked Elle in the mean air of a FBI officer who had just caught the suspect and was interrogating the hell out of them. 

“Um - ignore him! We’re just barely acquaintances.” you said diving into patch up this situation and save yourself, save your simple and peaceful life from being disrupted by the presence of Morpheus. “We don’t know each other that well at all.”

You could feel Morpheus’ eyes on you. But had you been lying? Morpheus did not know his wife very well at all. At the time of their marriage, you had put up a fight for it, to make it work but as time went by, you had seen that it was a useless cause and let him indulge in his pleasures and vices that had been cruel to you. Morpheus had never known you as a person nor had he given you a chance to get to know him. He only knew of your power, purpose and function but nothing more, nothing less. 

He never cared to find out the little intimate details that made affection blossom in one’s heart every time one thought of those little sweet and simple details of one’s lover. He never knew and cared to indulge in putting time and effort to get to know your favorite childhood memory, your favorite flower, your favorite food, your dreams and hopes, the books you love, the way you liked to be appreciated and loved. 

Your words cut deep because you were speaking the truth. All those endless years, he had never cared. He had not been an appreciative and loving husband to you. He hadn’t known you, the real you that these mortals knew because you showed it to them freely since you did not fear their unkindness or wrath. The real you that blazed with fury at the very sight of Morpheus being in the place you called home, the way you rolled your eyes every time he said something that you did not believe to be true, the colorful vocabulary you had picked up from the humans that you used very freely which was unusual for a Goddess who was meant to stand above humanity, the way your love for children poured out as you indulged in their silly games freely becoming a child yourself and interacting with the children in a motherly manner. 

Morpheus vowed to change the fact that he did not know his wife at all. Centuries of marriage to you and he knew nothing about those little details he had noticed this afternoon only because he had been paying attention to you. He vowed to pay attention to you and get to know you feeling shame at the fact that it had taken him so long to understand that he didn’t need you… he wanted you in his life. 

“If you’re just barely acquaintances, why does he have flowers for you?” interrogated Elle with the all - powerful chaotic sass that only a teenage girl can possess as she eyed Morpheus with the same defensiveness and distrust that you had making Morpheus feel slightly scared of this mortal child who was mean as you “Are those flowers for her?”

You raised your eyebrows at the protective teenager “Bloody hell, what are you? The Scotland Yard?

Elle smirked at you but directed her challenging gaze at Morpheus, protective of you “Why do you have flowers for her?”

Morpheus was silent for a moment believing that he was not going to answer to this teenager but he saw that you were waiting for his response as well and he cleared his throat “I want to get to know her.” 

“So you want to go out with her? You think flowers will get you a chance with her?” laughed Elle in amusement while you folded your arms amused at this little exchange between Elle who had no idea she was speaking so boldly to the King of Dreams and Nightmares. “I mean, she could do so much better than a brooding emo man in a creepy dark trenchcoat.”

You choked on a laugh feeling so much better as you drank in the expression of disbelief and hurt on Morpheus’ face at been spoken in such a manner by a teenager and you ruffled her hair “Suddenly I find myself no longer mad with you, Elle.”

“I think it’s kind of romantic. You should bring chocolates too. She likes Kit Kat so much that dad says it’s a miracle she hasn’t died of diabetes yet.” blubbered Max completely curious and fascinated by the new suitor for his babysitter.

“Thanks a lot.” you grumbled as you shot Max an exasperated stare because sometimes your duties could be too much and was it really too much to indulge in the sweetness of Kit Kats on a very stressful day? 

“So if you have bought her flowers, do you want to go out with her for dinner and marry her?” asked Stacy, her eyes glimmering with the innocence of romantic notions as she eyed both you and Morpheus. Your jaw dropped with horror at the question and you felt Morpheus’ eyes intensely on you and you didn’t dare to look back on him. “Dad says if a gentleman brings a lady flowers, they want to spend the rest of their lives with them.”

“Your dad is also the man who was almost going to get a pet snake and name it William Snakespeare for the friend he was dating.” you retorted remembering the utter horror you had felt when you had seen that slithering, horrible snake in his arms and had used your collective powers of persuasion and hope to return that scaly creature back because there were many things you could stand but - URGH! You could not stand snakes! You swore you heard Morpheus chuckle softly amidst the children’s roar of laughter “I don’t think he really is the reliable source of advice when it comes to love.”

“I think that would have been awesome.” replied Elle with a mischievous grin, and judging by that glint in her eyes, that had been her idea. 

“But do you want to marry her?” persisted Stacy who was not going to let go of this idea because she was now fascinated by this tall stranger marrying the kind lady in her life. “Do you love her?”

You felt as if you had been struck deeply to the very core of your soul as you stared at the child clenching your fists. You felt nothing but humiliation and horror at the very question, not wanting to look at Morpheus and really wishing that the earth would be swallowed by a supernova. You wanted to scream and cry and throw a tantrum like a little child in this very park at Stacy and Morpheus and everyone for the existence of the very question. You wanted to tear your hair out and stamp your feet because it should be such a simple question for your husband, it shouldn’t even be a question… it should be an answer… a promise that he lived each day of his life truthfully and sincerely. And yet you knew the cruel and bitter truth that he had proved to you for years. 

You were unloved by him. You were unwanted by him. You were unworthy of his love. You were not worthy of being part of his life and you were just in the way of his duties and responsibilities. He considered you a bother to him that he could not get rid of rather than a friend, a lover, a respected equal. He had made you feel this so deeply each and every moment for years that the years that he had been trapped, the peace you had achieved had given you a sense of reflection and gratitude that he was actually gone from your life. 

And now he was back. 

A part of you, the tormented and heartbroken part of you that had suffered his casual cruelty for centuries wished that he had stayed trapped in that cage for years instead of coming to ruin the lovely life of peace and contentment you had here. 

So you were really at your last straw because you wanted to scream at Stacy that no, love didn’t exist, no, you weren’t loved by the one person who was supposed to love you, and romance was dead and everything you believed was a lie! 

But before you could destroy a child’s innocent perception of the beauty of the world with your bitterness and heartbreak, Morpheus spoke quietly with conviction “I care for her deeply. I offer her everything I am and everything I have to give. I wish to court her and show her how truly important she is to me. I only want to prove myself worthy of earning her heart and her hand.”

You were frozen at his declaration of affection to you in front of these children who were very precious to you, who had become your family in a strange sort of way as they stared at Morpheus wide eyed but you were filled with disbelief and speechless shock as you struggled to breathe and process everything. You could not believe that Morpheus who was always cold and distant, who did not explain himself to others had expressed his intentions to these inquiring, nosy, inquisitive children who you loved very much as you stared at him, his eyes locked on you with tenderness and sincerity. You could feel your heart racing in pain and disbelief as you tried to make sense of all of this but it felt bittersweet, new and different as he expressed his true intentions to the people you cherished the most. 

You couldn’t understand what was happening as you tried to find a rationale reason for Morpheus behaving in such a sincere and tender manner toward you because he couldn’t possibly care for you to say such a lovely declaration as you still were short - circuiting through your frozen brain when Ben exclaimed from behind you “Dude! That was some Pride and Prejudice shit!”

You could usually sense anyone but you had been absolutely frozen in shock that your senses had been paralyzed that you had not heard Ben behind you. 

You jumped in shock as you turned around taking out a book in your bigger on the inside pockets in your coat to defend yourself out of instinct but stopped when you realized it was just your mischievous friend grinning at you. 

“For the love of all the Fates! What is wrong with you, Ben?” you snapped as you recovered from your shock as your hand that held the book dropped to your side and your other hand ran through your hair as you took a step back to take a deep breath because you really deserved a break “Seriously! I could have taken you out with this book!”

You ran your hand through your hair wondering why you put up with this chaotic family as Elle replied sassily “Well, it would be Pride and Prejudice if Mr. Darcy looked like a malnourished Victorian Vampire.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” you said slightly protective as you put your book back and folded your arms because you didn’t want Morpheus to remember the trauma of his entrapment. The Endless did not need food to survive and yet you knew enough to understand by taking a look at his hollowed cheeks that his captors had not been kind enough to treat him with the basic needs. 

Ben looked at you with hope in his eyes “Wait if you are Elizabeth, does that mean I am Jane?” 

These were the moments you wondered why Ben and you were friends as you sighed and looked at your best friend “Really? Seriously, that’s what you’re thinking?”

“That means I’m heartbreakingly beautiful and enchant Mr. Bingley who marries me and makes five thousand pounds a year.” said Ben dreamily as his kids giggled while Morpheus looked confused at the dynamic between you and Ben “Can you just imagine?”

You raised your eyebrows allowing him to indulge in his hopeful fantasy as you nodded “Huh. And we both have an extravagant, over the top, joint wedding.”

“Nice!” exclaimed Ben as he high fived you as you both started laughing in amusement and delight at the thought “We both combine our powers of charm and persuasion, seduce rich bachelors and get them to leave their money in their will and they die of mysterious circumstances and bang - we get a beach villa in Bahamas and I get to pay for my kids college tuition.”

“There’s just one problem with that great plan, dad.” said Max with a grin “You both are hopeless at love.”

“Excuse you, young man!” exclaimed Ben in feigned shock and betrayal as he clutched his heart in dramatic flair that you had grown used to “How dare you speak to your father that way?” 

“Just saying, dad. Instead of dating someone richer, why don’t you date someone who actually enjoys being around you?” replied Elle sassily as she rolled her eyes at the two adults who snorted in disbelief at her words. 

“Unrealistic. I think I like our plan better.”

Stacy shook her head at her father as she retorted “You two are fucking shithead idiots when it comes to dating. Your plan is a half - baked disaster.”

“That’s not -” began Ben ready to comeback at Stacy when he realized something “How - wait, where did you learn that word from?”

You flushed red because you might have used that word in exasperation and frustration in front of the kids when Ben was not there and Stacy grinned deviously “Y/N says it a lot. She says a shithead means a nice, talented, good person. I mean, she did say not to tell you she said it in front of us or that we’ll be dead.”

Morpheus grinned liking this little girl more and more each passing moment because his wife looked like you were going to pass out of mortification and snap the child out of existence for tattling on you as you glared at Stacy in betrayal and began “Why you little tattling shit, I never said that a shithead meant -”

You quickly amended your words when you saw Ben glare at her as you schooled your expression into one of innocence “No - well, it was an accident.”

Ben still didn’t move as he glared at you because he wasn’t very fond of you swearing in front of the kids and you surrendered “I’m sorry. It was - I was a bit exhausted and I swore in front of the kids. But I didn’t tell them that a certain word meant something good. I told them not to swear.”

“She did, dad. She was sorry.” said Elle honestly and then glared at her younger siblings “She didn’t tell us good things about swearing. She made us promise not to swear.”

Ben’s eyes softened “Okay. I believe you.”

Elle’s eyes flickered toward Morpheus who was observing these interactions between you and the family that you clearly cherished and loved very much carefully with attention as she waved her hand toward him “Okay, can we please deal with this problem here? Dad, there’s a scrungly weirdo with a ghost ass face here who wants to ask out Y/N! Can we start panicking now?”

Morpheus shot an offended look toward Elle who clearly had wounded his pride as you let out a snort of laughter and Ben wore a pleasant smile but his eyes were hard as he said in a calm voice “Alright, Mr. Darcy. I’m Ben and these are my kids, Elle, Stacy, Max and Y/N.”

Morpheus knew who Ben was. He had been raised in an abusive household where he had taken punches from his father and watched helplessly as his mother had gotten hit but never complained or cried in front of him until one day, she had left her husband taking Ben with him. He had married a charming woman who had manipulated him and emotionally and physically abused him for years until he had taken the decision to stand up against her and take the kids from her as he protected them and began a new life of his own with his kids, divorced from his wife. He was a good father who always valued his children’s happiness and safety and loved them very much from every dream and nightmare and cared about the importance of family. 

You nudged him in exasperation while his kids laughed but he continued with a protective glint in his eyes “I don’t know if you have good intentions in trying to win over my friend again. But I won’t tolerate you messing with her. I have a feeling you won’t be giving up on my best friend but the choice to be with you, to let you in to her life… is hers.”

Ben’s voice was pleasant and cheerful but there was a hint of protectiveness that Morpheus detected as Ben said “Y/N is my family. And I promised her that I will not fail her like our families did to us. I will protect her. So consider this a warning.” 

There was a long moment of silence as you felt terrified for Ben because he was literally threatening the King of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares as you stared at the two men confronting each other but to your surprise, Morpheus gave a tiny nod “Yes. You’re a good friend.”

Ben glared fiercely at Morpheus while you stared still shocked that a mere mortal had instilled the fear of god into the Lord of Dreams “I know.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise as Ben nodded at you as he stayed a few  steps ahead giving you and Morpheus some space but you saw Elle scowl as she marched away and you looked at Morpheus “Hey, give me a minute.”

Morpheus nodded as you ran behind Elle as you placed your hand on her shoulder “Hey! Elle, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did something happen?” you inquired protectively in concern. 

“It’s just that I’ve seen my mom hurt my dad.” said Elle quietly and looked at you “I know you aren’t related to me but you’re more of a mom to me than she was. I don’t want you to go out with someone and get hurt… like what happened to dad.”

“Come here.” you said as you hugged Elle tightly and affectionately touched that she cared enough about you to look out for you even though you were a Goddess of Hope. But even powerful and eternal beings needed someone to look after them, look out for them and care for them as you felt tears prick your eyes and fondness and love swell in your heart “You don’t have to worry about me. I wouldn’t want to be with him for all of the universe offered to me.”

Elle laughed in amusement but at that moment, her father called out for her. You looked wistfully and lovingly at their little family when you felt Morpheus beside you. 

“You prefer living among the humans.”

“Yes.” you answered as you dug your hands into your pockets looking out into the park with the crowded families and friends who were walking and having picnics and playing “Well, my life has changed so much. When we were married… there was a time, there were years when I thought I couldn’t live without you.”

You laughed at the naïve and silly girl you had been and you took a deep breath and looked at Morpheus who was entirely captivated by you, listening to you attentively with a quiet sad glint in his dark glimmering starlit eyes as you smiled proud of yourself and nodded toward your friends “But since you disappeared, I’ve built a life. I have people who I care about. A family that is precious to my heart. But now you’re disrupting the peace and contentment that I enjoy among them with all of this. I don’t think I can lose that just because you’re insistent on winning me over.”

“I’m not asking you to give them up.” said Morpheus softly as he realized that his wife had a life apart from him, a life that you was truly happy and did not want to give up because it was a life without him “I only want to know your favorite flower.”

You looked at Morpheus as if he had grown three heads “My favorite flower?”

Morpheus waited for your answer and you clasped your hands as you eyed him skeptically as you finally answered “Orchids. Purple. Jasmine.”

“Why?”

You glared at Morpheus as you snapped “Why? Why do you care?”

“I am curious. I want to know everything about you.” said Morpheus sincerely and softly as he looked at you with a glimpse of shame in his eyes “Everything I failed to know.”

You were silent for a few moments as you fiddled with your sleeve not knowing what to do with the awkward tension brimming among both of you as you finally answered “Purple is my favorite color. Jasmines and orchids. There’s something about it that makes me happy, gives me hope.”

You wish to change the topic as you throw back the ball at him “What about you? Your favorite flower?”

His lips twitch into something that resembles a smile “You believe I have a favorite flower?”

“I don’t know.” you snapped, not in the best of moods because you were still shaken up by the fact that your husband was caring and tender toward you. You hated being shaken up and shocked. You liked steady and calm. You didn’t like it when something you solidly believed in was disrupted. So it was natural for you to be irritable. “I am making conversation.”

“Irises. Blue.” said Morpheus softly as he looked at you admiring your beauty that he had never noticed before. Your eyes blazing fiercely, your soft and smooth skin littered with a few scars, your long lashes and your eyebrows furrowed in thought, the wind in your lovely messy hair. He wondered how he could have been such an ignorant fool to ignore such beauty before him. 

“Why?”

“Does one need a reason to like a flower?”

“No I suppose not.” you said thinking back to why it made sense that there were blue irises in Fiddler’s Green “One doesn’t need a reason to like something sometimes. Perhaps you like it because it is the way it is.”

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you as you walked along the park and you queried to break the painful silence “Have you - are you alright? Have you been getting rest?”

“I thank you for your concern, wife - Y/N but I do not need rest.” replied Morpheus flinching at the memory of his entrapment at the hands of an amateur magician, his pride wounded but he hid it for he had work to do, vengeance to enact “I need to find the rest of my tools and restore the Dreaming to it’s rightful state.”

You noticed that he had grown stronger than you had seen him last time. Last time, he was weaker but now he felt stronger to you. Which one of his tools had he recovered? You wanted to ask but then you decided to bite your tongue. 

Literally because you bit your tongue hard making yourself flinch. 

You internally groaned as Morpheus asked in quiet intrigue “Favorite food?”

“I like spicy food. And - well -” you said wishing this painful awkwardness wasn’t this painful but then saw a man drinking a cup of coffee wishing you could snatch it and drink to eliminate your oncoming headache “And mangoes. And waffles. And a pot of hot, black coffee. Preferably all three together.”

Morpheus’ forehead crinkled at this new information as he then handed over a cup of hot coffee to you. You looked at the cup of coffee distrustfully but decided to take it because you needed the energy to get through a conversation with your stupid husband who had clearly lost his mind because he had decided to be a better husband to you by courting you once again. You ignored the little skip of your heart at this gesture because of this rare moment that makes you think that you could love him once again but you the memory of humiliation and neglect comes back at you, crashing over you at a tidal wave and the smile that you had been wearing disappears as quickly as it came and is replaced with a scowl. 

Still, you decide to keep the hot coffee with you instead of dumping it on him because you needed to revive yourself and survive this bloody conversation without strangling your husband in front of everyone. 

You scowled at him conveying that this changed nothing but took a sip of the coffee feeling its bitter taste pleasant but tossed the question back to your husband “What about you, My Lord?”

You mocked his title knowing that he wanted to be called by his name by you but you drew great satisfaction at rubbing it in his face that he would never have that pleasure and privilege as you raised your eyebrows at him innocently and he replied “I have no preference.”

“That does not surprise me.”

Morpheus glanced at you nervously “Perhaps you can change that.”

You raised your eyebrows quizzically wondering what the hell he was talking about when he nervously proposed “Perhaps you could dine with me and change my mind about having a preference?”

You spat out your coffee that you had just taken a sip of as you stared at Morpheus in disbelief “Are you fucking joking?”

“No.”

“Thought not. Well, I’ll have to check my calendar.” you said graciously as you pretended to think very deeply to a nervous Morpheus who was uncertain whether you were playing with him or simply thinking about whether to accept his invitation. You smiled kindly at him cunningly raising his hopes in his heart that soared with gladness “Well, come to think of it, I might be free…”

“Goo -” began Morpheus gladdened that you had accepted his invitation but then you cut across.

“Unless I am the Goddess of Hope who has so many appointments to keep, duties and responsibilities to attend in my realm, people to visit and places to go.” you replied with a sassy smile as you raised your cup of coffee enjoying giving hope to Morpheus for a brief moment and then relishing taking it away so quickly in such a casual and cruel manner. “And I have more important priorities to attend to than a simple dinner.”

It was what he did to you all those years ago, so many countless times. You felt nothing but happy satisfaction at the little harmless revenge you took on your husband as you watched the gladdened light in his eyes dim into an understanding and disbelieving one and felt glad as your carefully calculated words took their toll on him. He should understand what you suffered, what it felt like for you all those years ago. It was just giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

“I’m afraid you are much too late to ask me for dinner, My Lord.” you replied lightly striking the final blow. 

A part of you whispered that you were going too far but the other part wanted this, had waited so long to hurt him as much as he had hurt you. Did he think it would be so easy to win you over? That you would forget, forgive and move on? Did he think dinner would make the pain go away? 

“I see.” said Morpheus quietly and you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice as a shadow of sadness passed his face. 

You reveled in it but his sadness wasn’t as satisfying as you thought it would be. He actually sounded disappointed and sad at the prospect of not being able to spend time with you and get to know you better. You wished that he didn’t truly and sincerely sound sad. You took another gulp of your coffee to get your head right. Why did you care anyway about your stupid, heartless moron of a husband’s emotions? He never cared about yours!

The silence elapsed into a painful agony as you suddenly felt cruel and cold. You prided yourself on not being like Morpheus but you felt your actions mirrored Morpheus’ own. Unkind, cruel, cold. Not giving a chance for an explanation. You tried to shake that feeling of painful agony and awkwardness as you clutched your cup of coffee tightly and maybe your husband sensed your pain because he spoke breaking the silence “I intend to travel to Hell.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” you spoke eagerly, too quickly not processing the words that Morpheus had said to you and it wasn’t until Morpheus quirked his brow at you, you realized what he said “What? Are you insane? What business do you have with Lucifer Morningstar?”

“One of his demons has my helm. I am journeying to retrieve it.”

Jesus, you needed more coffee. 

You felt concerned at the thought of Morpheus journeying to Hell alone unaccompanied by anyone. Nobody ever visited Hell unless they were desperate or insane or had a death wish. There were many who entered Hell but only less number came out alive but zero came out traumatized. You knew Morpheus was despised by Lucifer but Lucifer Morningstar had a soft spot for you. 

You had known Lucifer since you were a child and they had always looked out for you when your parents neglected you or when you visited their realm. When everyone else saw the cruel Devil, you had only seen the fallen angel who had a soft spot for you, whose realm felt like your second home though it was destructive, taught you tricks and mischief and who told you stories of lands and realms far away. They were your friend, a parent and you were always welcome at his realm. Even after your marriage to Morpheus, Lucifer never held Morpheus’ against you, only seeing your unhappiness in your marriage to the Dream Lord. It was Lucifer you had spent the neglected anniversaries and all the birthdays that Morpheus had forgotten as they had reminded you that these occasions were supposed to be fun, not streaked with tears and hiding pain. They respected you as a personal representative of your realm, summoning you to their realm and welcoming you as an honored friend. 

Morpheus did not know your past with Lucifer Morningstar. Morpheus did not know of your relationship to Lucifer Morningstar where you visited them for dinner and they ranted about your dickhead of a husband and you kept them from waging a war against the Dreaming. Morpheus didn’t know about how you were Lucifer’s pride and joy, their sweet child who they were devoted to and you cared for Lucifer as a parent and a friend. In fact, Morpheus knew nothing about you at all. 

But you knew Lucifer. You knew that they despised Morpheus for everything they symbolized and the power they held. But Lucifer loathed Morpheus for breaking your heart and subjecting you to a lifetime of unhappiness and heartbreak, misery and pain. And this would be their chance to destroy him and take a slow, cruel revenge on Morpheus for everything. 

You had every right to let Lucifer do that. After all, you wanted Morpheus to suffer the way you had. Unspeakable pain and torturous torment was Lucifer’s forte and you had great faith that they would execute it to perfection on Morpheus. 

But you suddenly found that the idea of Morpheus suffering such unspeakable cruelty and pain under Lucifer’s hands was loathsome and terrifying to you. 

“I’ll come with you.” you volunteered knowing that Lucifer would not dare hurt Morpheus if you were there and if the situation came close to exploding, you could diffuse it with your charm and diplomatic tact that always put Lucifer at ease. 

Just for precaution, you should take your famous chocolate cake that Lucifer loved and adored. And besides, you had not heard any summons for Morpheus from Hell, so you suspected him of entering Hell as an uninvited guest. 

Yes. Perhaps you should get started on that chocolate cake. And the lemon pie that calms down Lucifer when they are in a particularly bad mood. 

“Do not be afraid, Y/N.” said Morpheus as he looked over at you and you had the sinking feeling that he was staring at you tenderly and desperately all at once, drinking you in desperately for the last time “I am not asking you to accompany me. This is something I must do alone.”

“You are going to Hell alone? You can’t survive Lucifer alone!”

“You need me to survive Lucifer. And possibly my sweet baked goods!” you wanted to scream but your hands were shaking at the thought of Morpheus at Lucifer’s mercy. 

Perhaps you should have dinner with him. Together. 

You shove that horrible, sinking sensation of a thought that whispers he is saying goodbye to you as you shake your head hoping that taunting his honor and ego would keep him from going to Hell alone “I knew you were lying. Your promises of fixing our marriage. I knew it but your promise only lasted… a week.”

“I intend on keeping my promise to you.” Morpheus reminds you gently and you hate that you are the one who has to be comforted like a wounded animal, a crying child because you wanted to be strong and yet you were afraid for him. You didn’t want him to die. You knew there was no chance of Morpheus ever emerging out of Hell if he entered it now. “When I come back -”

“If you come back.” you spat as you drank the rest of your coffee in one go and gulped it as you glared at him “We both know you are walking into a trap where the outcome is your inevitable Death.”

Somehow you sense Morpheus’ inner frustration and annoyance as his fingers twitch and you are always warned to leave before you tempt it into fury and anger and he growls “I will come back.”

You snapped smartly “Isn’t that what you told Lucienne before you disappeared for over a century?”

You infuriate him and make him angrier. Morpheus knows he is unworthy of you. Morpheus knows he is unworthy of the second chance you might bestow upon him. You make him doubt his capability and worthiness for you. Deep down, he knows he is not worthy of you, a person of such hope, strength and goodness. He came back weaker than he was before, his arrogance and pride had been his cold cruelty that treated you to a lifetime of misery and heartbreak. Morpheus knew all this. You didn’t have to rub it in his face. 

“You forget your place, wife.” growled Morpheus in anger. It isn’t lost on both of you how easily Morpheus reverts to calling you his wife instead of your name.

“See this is why you should abandon all your intentions of fixing our marriage!” you snapped because he was playing with fire “You don’t listen to me and you do not value my counsel.”

Morpheus rubbed his temple as he shot back angry that his wife could not see the obvious picture, that he was scared of losing you to Lucifer’s twisted games “And do you believe you will accompany me? Hope does not persevere in Hell!”

You laughed at the amusing hilarity of his words but the depth of the meaning sank into you like a knife sinking deeper and deeper into your heart as you gazed at him daringly for you had experienced a deep understanding of something in your marriage “What am I to you? Certainly not a wife because you have never been a husband to me! You see me as a weak, fragile, powerless, useless little girl -”

“No, you are more than that -” began Morpheus as he ran his hand through his hair in exasperation at himself for messing everything up so spectacularly as he looked at his wife whose eyes were glimmering with tears. 

“Yes, yes I am more than that. I am more than an alliance between our two realms. Or a wife to you. You might be the Endless but I am the Goddess of Hope, powerful in my own right. I am my own person with my own life, a woman in my own right and after giving you the best I had, I’ve realized that I am utterly alone in this union.” you said fiercely and sincerely with complete sadness and sincerity, understanding and acceptance as you looked at Morpheus sharply “But when I look at you, I feel that I am better for it.”

You turned around to leave only seeing Morpheus’ face fall in pain at your words but before you can leave with no destination in mind, a hand encloses around your wrist and you realize Morpheus is holding your hand to comfort you and pull you close to him and your eyes widen at his touch, the soft sensation unfamiliar. 

Your blood boils as your slap his hand away from your wrist not wanting to be touched as your temper rises at being touched by the very man who had neglected you but now dares to touch your very skin. 

You surprised him as you dragged him to the corner of the park where a shrubbery of trees shrouded you from the sight of people. You cornered him against a tree surprising him. You could feel the loud beating of his heart against his ribcage as he gazed at you wide eyed in surprise. To any passer by, you would have looked like a couple who was about to kiss. Morpheus had never been this close to you, to his own wife as he felt heat rise up his cheeks as he felt the brush of your breath on his cheek, her fierce gaze burn into his own eyes as she looked at him intensely and it felt too hot all at once. His knees felt weak as his eyes flickered toward his wife’s lips that were red and then at your eyes that were looking at him with such intensity that his mind was lost and unanchored, when he suddenly felt something sharp against his neck. 

He found the silver glint of a beautiful sharp bejewelled knife against his neck “I like it when men beg. But now is not the time, Morpheus.”

He glared at her but something of a strangled groan escaped his throat mortifying him and it humiliated him more when you smiled deviously. 

Were you not Hope? Were you not supposed to be kind and tender? Why were you so… devious? 

You glared at him as you growled dangerously “You are in the way of my life, My Lord. If I see you again, I will not hesitate to eliminate you.”

Hope was revered by humans as kind and tender. Hope was thought of as good and beautiful that poems were written and songs were sung about you. 

But they didn’t fully understand that Hope was cruel and dangerous and powerful too. 

Morpheus managed to reply as he mustered all the dignity he could “A knife against the Lord of Dreams, my Lady?”

You merely smirked and pressed your knife against his throat lightly and suddenly he couldn’t breath as he fell into a haze of memories of being trapped in Roderick Burgess’ basement for over a century. He could feel the hopelessness and despair of his own mind that he had felt all that century taunting him as he tried to find a way out but he couldn’t as he watched himself trapped in the basement alone. He was silent but he was screaming for help. He wanted to be helped, he wanted to be free but no one would let him out! Why wouldn’t they let him out? 

He felt the despair and hopelessness grow stronger until the screams grew deafening in his mind and suddenly everything grew hazy once more as he realized he was once again back at the park. 

He breathed heavily as he looked at your hardened and cold expression “One chance. One chance is all you got, husband.”

He holds onto your hand like a lifeline to make certain this is real, because he isn’t certain of what just happened. What did you do to him? What power did that knife wield? 

Morpheus whispered in a equally silky voice “You’re bluffing. You would not kill me.”

“Deep down, I know you still care about me.” he wanted to say as he looked into your eyes that had a hidden glint of concern at how heavily he was breathing, that held onto his hand even though you could have let go. He wanted to believe that you cared about him. 

“Remember all those cold and miserable years of how you mistreated me. Then look into my eyes and tell me I’m bluffing.” you said calmly as your eyes grew cold and dangerous and for the first time, Morpheus was not certain of your emotions and intentions as he looked into your eyes that blazed with dangerous fury and cold power and you took away your knife pocketing it back and stepped away with a warning “Do not test my power and do not tempt my fury.”

Morpheus stood there shocked by the display of fury and power that you had never displayed before. You felt good about yourself but then felt anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach. Maybe you would never see him again. Lucifer would kill him. 

Well, good riddance, goodbye and good luck to your moron of a husband who decided that going to Hell alone would be a good idea. 

You felt his eyes on you as you walked away but the unsettling pit of anxiety still buzzed even though you tried to ignore it. But you would ignore it. You would not try to find a reason to stay with him or care about him again. 

You groaned at your inward struggle between good and dangerous but you turned around as you waved nonchalantly at him leaving him with one last cautionary warning, a bright smile and a dangerous smirk all combined into one. 

“Send Lucifer Morningstar my best regards.”

Morpheus watched his wife walk away proudly and freely to your new family that you had found and nurtured all on your own and protected at all costs. A family that you did not want him interfering in and ruining. A family that she had perhaps always dreamt of having. 

Morpheus felt his heart ache with anger against himself and deep sorrow for breaking the constant and faithful companion who had stayed by his side for centuries and had lost now because of his thoughtlessness and selfishness. He had come here confess so many things that swirled in his mind and tortured his heart. He watched your silhouette take a step far away from him and he wanted to reach out to you and beg you not to go. He wanted to beg you to salvage whatever broken pieces of their relationship and give a chance to fight for a new kind of love they could share again. Instead he had blown it out of proportion, fighting with you and saying things that he didn’t truly mean, attacking you without reason and hurting your feelings excruciatingly. He had lived so long like an island in the course of their marriage, punishing you with silence and heartbreak but now you were once again punished with aching pain with the bitter sting of his thoughtless words. 

Morpheus knew that he was the one who had burned their relationship down with his cold unkindness and selfish thoughtlessness but he wanted a new beginning with you. He could envision a new future with you by his side and suddenly, his heart grew heavy and cold at the thought of losing you once again. 

Morpheus was truly ashamed of his actions and incredibly sorry for hurting you. He had meant to say it, to show it, to let you know how sorry he was but instead somehow the evening had gone in an unexpected manner where you had threatened to eliminate him out of your life if you ever saw him again. 

The blazing fury in your eyes was a sincere promise of your words, he was still recovering from the shock of the truthfulness of the pure loathing and hatred that you held toward him. He did not expect Hope of all Goddesses to coddle grudges but centuries had given you enough time to feed and nurture your flaring hatred against him very well. 

All Morpheus wanted was to meet you in the afterglow of your broken past and hopefulness of new beginning. 

But could his dream ever come true?

Taglist 

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@kittiowolf210  @wintersire @xxxmuxxx @theficsiveread

@the-number7 @viiv-westwood

@peary-smol

@justmasblack

@wishing-to-be-a-fictional-chara

@sidekickforlife

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@laraackerman​

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I love that both of my sad sacks are in this series

The horror and the ruin - part 1

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, horror images, adult themes, reader discretion is advised Summary: The wheel of time is turning as the fates are weaving the fate of the world and the one who bound her life to the Dream of the Endless. The Witch has to stand against evil, Despair, and her own doubts. Can a mortal, truly bind their life to the one who never fades? Or will it all become just a dream? Word count: 7.9k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series Masterlist Part seventeen: Letting go

***

"Die you ugly son of a bitch!" Y/N shouted sinking the dagger blade into the ghoul's monstrous body. It choked on black rotten blood and coughed as she turned her face away at the last moment miraculously avoiding the splatter of rot on her face. "Finally!" she exclaimed in relief when the carcasses stopped moving, "What the fuck is going on this year!" she asked turning to face John. Golden runic circles manifested from his hand in the one smooth movement cutting off the head of the other ghoul.

"Why the fuck are you using knives and other weapons, love?" he asked reaching into his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes and handing it to Y/N "I don't understand! You could do the same with your power!"

"Well, I don't know! Daggers are more practical and faster. Plus silver works on most monsters," she replied wiping the blade on the couch bedspread and taking a cigarette from John.

"Silver is for monster huh?" he scoffed.

"John you know me, I've never been a fan of summoning projectiles from the palm of my hand, etc.! These are your arcana!"

"In that case, maybe it's time to start? I could train you," he offered.

"Wait wait, I must be dreaming! We're working together again which is a miracle in itself, and now you're offering to teach me!!!?" you laughed "It's Christmas baby!!! John Constantine offers to help!!!" you sneered sarcastically.

"Christmas it may be, but not this one," he ignored your taunts and kicked the motionless corpse, "Almost a month to Samhain, and this is the third case this week."

"Fourth," she corrected him, "don't forget the graveyard wraith from Monday," she reminded him of the case that started their work together this week. "Ugly fuck," she grimaced as she let out a puff of smoke and looked at the corpse, "I can't remember the last time I saw a Ghoul."

"It fucking stinks," he sneered looking closer at the body.

"They feed on the dead bodies, fucking obvious it stinks!"

"Remind me again why are we even dealing with bloody ghouls? You couldn't dump it on the Winchesters, they like to get their hands dirty."

"A case like any other, ghoul, ghost, demon, possession, one abomination! We have the power to do something about it, so why should we stand by passively!"

"A wraith, ghouls, and two possessions in one week is asking to get fucked," he snarled, "You know that running after every bloody abomination that crawled out of hell won't make you run away from your own thoughts," he looked at you meaningfully, "I know something about that."

"I do not run away from my thoughts at all. I work!" she replied exasperatedly.

"Mhm…." his face crooked in a grimace of doubt, "if you want to work then work with me on something bigger, not on sodden ghouls. You can leave the ghouls to the Winchesters."

"Stop picking on them and you'd better tell me if you think it's weird that this is the fourth case this week."

"Weird, maybe…" he commented pensively, "But everything lately is weirder than usual."

"You've something to tell me?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing…" he smiled cynically, "Where' s your boyfriend?" he emphasized the last word.

"Oh I knew you would start about him again!!!" she threw her hands in frustration into the air, "Imagine he has other responsibilities than killing ghouls with me!"

"Anything better than killing ghouls," he replied opening one of the windows and letting in the fresh air, "But you're right. Samhain is a few weeks away and we can't go a day without some case of demonic activity."

"I told you! But nooo, 'I think you're overreacting'," she comically mimicked John's British accent, "Something is completely wrong!" she circled the room they were in looking for symbols, traces, signs, anything that could provide some sort of clue.

"Okay fine, you were right, so be it! Since you came back from dreamland you are extremely positive, it's not like you!"

"Can't I be in a good mood?" she asked while wrestling with the crumbling dresser and glared at John angrily.

"Of course, you can," he came over and helped you move the dresser away from the wall, he looked ridiculous with a cigarette hanging by his lips, "and I'm sure it has nothing to do with the Lord of Dreams."

"Oh for fuck sake, drop it!" she raised her voice in frustration once again that day, "wasn't you the one who told me to dream a little!?"

"I sure was."

"So I did! What do you expect?" she turned to him with feigned anger, she couldn't really be angry with him, it was all just playful banter, "do you want juicy details?" she smiled coquettishly, "are we going to gossip like two girly girls? Oh Morpheus is so wonderful!" she danced in place turning on her heel, "Oh the way he kisses! Oh it makes me feel tingling in all the right places!" she grinned.

"Fuck no, please stop!" Constantine pretended he was getting sick, "just don't."

"Admit it, your stony cynical heart is glad to see me so happy," she smiled warmly at him, "Admit it! I know you are!"

Constantine just looked at her, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. It had been a long time since he had seen her so optimistic, full of energy, happy. After all that had happened recently, she seemed as if all her wounds had magically healed as if she had found the will and strength to live again. He watched her throughout the day. Even as she sank the dagger blade into the ghoul's body, she couldn't hide her beaming face and that dreamy look.

"Of course I'm happy," he replied, and a quiet laugh escaped him, "how could I not be happy. It's a nice change to see you so…. so alive."

Y/N just walked up to John and hugged him warmly, and he, to her surprise, reciprocated the hug. Hugging and other forms of physical affection were never something they did, it wasn't their style. What was their style was constant teasing and snarky comments. This time he hugged her tightly, tighter than a friend should. He knew something was hanging in the air, he could feel the energy changing around them, around her, and he worried about the near future. He couldn't tell her that. He couldn't take away the delight shining in her eyes. He wanted it to last, for as long as possible. For he knew that whatever happened, she could handle it. So they stood in silence amidst the traces of battle, in the stains of black blood, in the stench of decaying corpses, allowing themselves a moment of tenderness. Two occultists, two sources, drawn into a game they had no concept of. Drawn into a vortex of events they could not see. In a vortex of events that was so soon to change their lives forever.

"I have an exorcism to perform two towns over," John said pulling away from his friend, "How about another team-up? And after that we'll grab a bottle of whiskey at some dingy motel."

"Sounds like a plan!"

***

Morpheus had to admit to himself that each moment he was apart from her seemed to drag painfully. He tried to focus on his work, there was still so much to do, so much to rebuild. His thoughts, however, kept returning back to her. If he could, he would keep her in his Realm and forbid visits to the Waking World. "I can," he thought, yet he didn't want to. He didn't want to repeat the same mistakes he had made in the past. To him, she was freedom, she was fulfillment, she was the devotion she had given him willingly, "why should I enslave her now?" And although he knew what dangers awaited her in the Waking World, he could not, would not, enslave her just to protect her. Allowing her to make her own decisions, even though he was convinced he knew better, was a new experience for him. Another one she brought him.

"My lord," Lucienne brought him out of the reverie he had indulged in while creating more fragments of the Kingdom, "the servants have emptied the west wing in according to your order."

"Very well. Thank you, Lucienne," he replied in a stern tone.

"What would you like us to do about it?" she asked.

"Nothing. Chambers for Y/N will be created in the west wing. I will see to that myself," he replied, his face betraying no emotion.

"Do you expect her to stay here?" Lucienne tried not to let her surprise show in the tone of her voice.

"I expect her to live here, Lucienne," Morpheus sounded confident.

"What if she refuses?"

"I will have to respect her decision," he replied calmly, "But I trust that she will want to live with me."

Lucienne hid her surprised face in the large book she held in her hands. He had changed so much. In the past, he would not have even allowed the possibility that someone could refuse him. Yet now he stood before her creating an oasis of peace and serenity. The marble stone buildings, decorated in warm browns and grays, seemed to take on the colors of gold, brown, and green in the light of the setting sun. It was as if they absorbed the colors of the autumn trees and shrubs with which they intertwined. He placed the house deep in the valley, surrounded by two mountains, hidden from view in fields covered with heather. He decorated the higher slopes with firs and planted beeches and oaks in the valley. The southernmost of the two mountain streams formed a river flowing westward through the valley. Over the river ran a narrow stone bridge, a path, picturesque access to the house of peace. Surrounding the house were gardens and a terrace overlooking the river. They towered over the valley, mystical with their arches, balconies, arbors, intricately decorated with the most delicate engravings. As he moved his hand, the trees bent their crowns, giving the wind their leaves to dance between the myriad arches, falling through the windows into the chambers, sweeping the dust from the floors, raising them up, spreading shimmering magic.

"Rivendell, if my eyes don't deceive me, " Lucienne sighed with delight.

"I think I captured its beauty. This is exactly what it looked like in Tolkien's dreams, " Morpheus assessed his work.

"I think she will be delighted," Lucienne smiled at him.

"Am I that obvious Lucienne?" he looked at her questioningly.

"You have changed my lord," she replied softly, "but it is a change that is so welcome."

"I don't know if I have changed Lucienne," he closed his eyes checking if Y/N appeared in the Dreaming, "but I am trying. I'm willing to change."

***

On the way to the next town, you closed your eyes only for moments. A long car trip always made you drowsy if you weren't driving. You listened to The Cure playing from the speakers and drifted off only for a moment. You did not, however, find yourself in a Dreaming. You didn't find yourself back in the arms of Morpheus as you desired. Between the Dreaming and the Waking World, there was nothing, a void, an impassable In-Between. There was no end or beginning, no earth or sky, no light or sound. Just emptiness.

"Hello, my dear…"

"Come up daughter…."

"Don't be afraid sister…"

With a pounding heart, you turned toward the source of the voice. You saw three women, dressed in black, suspended in space, their dresses and hair blowing in a non-existent wind.

"At last we meet, Sister Witch," the youngest one spoke up, "You look good, you're blossoming."

"I know who you are…" you whispered and bowed your head, "Mother, Maiden, and the Crone…Triple Goddess, Moirai." your heart beat harder in fear of the imminent prophecy.

"Look at her, she thinks she's clever!" taunted Crone.

"She shows respect, she has a good heart," said Mother softly.

"Too good! They will devour it along with her soul!" Crone spoke up again and cold fear ran through your body.

"Devour it? Who will devour it?" you asked.

"We have come to warn you sister," Maiden spoke up in a soft voice, "not to answer your questions."

"You are treading on paths you should not tread," spoke up the Crone, "Your fate joins the fate of those who never fade."

"Beware, daughter. The King of Dreams is a proud ruler, proud and just," the Mother spoke this time, "You have intertwined your fate with his, and he with yours. Your paths will be shrouded in darkness."

"Beware sister, beware of your desires," the Maiden warned, "You will have to choose. Your choice may be his undoing."

"Beware of the light in the darkness…"

"She will come for you Sister Witch, and you will have to choose…"

"Darkness is where you belong."

"I don't understand…" you began in a trembling voice, but they had already disappeared.

*

"What don't you understand?" Constantine cast a concerned look in your direction, "Are you all right, love? You look pale."

"Yes," you answered quietly, "I must have drifted off for a moment," you rubbed your eyes, but the image of Crones did not want to disappear at all. You knew it wasn't a dream. You knew something was wrong. "Are we far yet?"

"We're almost there," he replied, "did you see him?"

You didn't answer. Staring at the warm setting sun, you repeated in your head the words "Beware of the light in the dark…Darkness is where you belong."

"Hey Y/N! You with me?" Constantine glanced at you again.

"Yes, sorry. No, I didn't see Morpheus," you replied hastily.

"How exactly does it work? Do you see him every time you fall asleep?" he asked, glancing first at you and then back at the road.

"Not every time, but yes, most nights when I fall asleep, I see him. And even if I don't see him, I still know he's watching over me."

"Doesn't that seem a little, I don't know, creepy to you?"

"Why?"

"You can't hide anything from him. Because he sees all your dreams and nightmares, you can't keep anything to yourself."

"I find it comforting," you replied, " I don't want to hide anything from him."

"Not even kinky spicy dreams?" he smirked.

"Why should I hide them from him? I would definitely prefer him to join in!" you smiled mischievously. "But come to think of it John, isn't that exactly what, deep down, each of us wants? Even you!" a scoffing interrupted your statement, "I know you, John! So spare me the snarky comments and admit I'm right. If you had the opportunity to be with someone who knows you whole, knows your every darkest secret, darkest desire, knows all your sorrows, all your joys, all your dreams, and accepts and loves you exactly as you are, wouldn't you want that? Of course, you would want that! Every one of us, deep down, wants someone from whom we won't have to pretend, someone from whom we won't have to put on a mask."

He didn't answer anything, but the look on his face said it all. Of course, he wanted this. Who wouldn't want that! Who wouldn't want to be loved exactly as they were? Everyone wanted someone who would love their dark side as much as their bright side. The truth was that even the noblest, had darkness in them, and the brighter their nobility shone, the more darkness crept into their souls. Because the world was a cruel place, ruthless and brutal, trying at every turn to kill the light, stifle it and suppress it. And the struggle for that ounce of nobility was often brutal and strewn with blood, pain, and suffering. Both you and John knew this. He couldn't deny you, but you knew him well, he wouldn't admit you were right either.

"Enough of these philosophical lectures for one evening," John reached for the radio and turned the volume up, letting the sounds of Little Dark Age by MGMT drown out any words you would have spoken, "we have work to do."

***

As she climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, Y/N was beginning to regret her bad habits again. The air reeked of mustiness and dust, and her lungs filled with cigarette smoke refused to cooperate. From one floor to the next, the smell worsened, turning into a distinct odor of sulfur and decay.

"How long has the girl been possessed you said?" She asked her friend breathing heavily.

"I didn't," he replied, "more than two years."

"Fucking hell…" she uttered, "poor girl."

Constantine lit another cigarette and Y/N knew full well that the cigarette would not burn out before the exorcism was over. It was his little ritual, to light a cigarette just before a job, put it aside, and finish it when he was done. If the cigarette managed to burn out in the meantime, it meant he hadn't done a good enough job.

He did not knock on the apartment door, from which a nauseating smell emanated. He opened the door and entered without a word, and she followed. To the people gathered in the cramped apartment, they looked menacing, so frightening. She saw them fleeing with their eyes as they huddled against the wall, clutching crosses and rosaries in their hands. It was not about their physical appearance. For they looked normal. John was wearing his usual coat and white shirt, his black tie hung loosely around his neck. One could think he was a banker or a salesman off work. She, on the other hand, was dressed as usual in slim black jeans, a black tank top, and a black leather jacket, in no way resembling the powerful witch she was, or the exorcist she was planning to be in a moment. "The whole family is here," she thought, sweeping her eyes over their terrified faces. She wanted to smile, to give them encouragement; after all, they had come here to help them. However, at the sight of the girl tied to the bed, the thought of smiling disappeared completely. Her arms and legs were tied to the bed frame, but despite this, her body was twisting convulsively trying to free itself. She groaned, wailed, hissed, and growled as John tore the curtain from the window exposing her to the light of the setting sun. Y/N could see each of her bulging blue veins marking her entire body, her greasy hair stuck to her face, the remnants of feces on the once white sheet. The demon grunted trying to break free, trying to reach John, she bent her body to all sides as John lifted a bundle of metal symbols to the sun and began to turn them looking for the right one. A demonic sound ripped from her throat as the sun's rays passed through the right one. She threw her head back, trying to get away from it, and Y/N could see her averted, bloody whites without pupils. She realized that it had been years since she had seen such a state of possession. She took two steps forward wanting to begin work, but John threw her a look that said "Stay where you are and let me work," then he set the cigarette down on the edge of the dresser and jumped up on the bed.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me," Y/N hissed quietly, "you brought me here to babysit civilians?"

John only smirked then knelt on the bed and began the ritual. He whispered something in the girl's ear, and the demon, as if sensing his power, moved its head away, trying to get away from him. This, however, lasted only a brief moment. The demon looked at him as if to threaten him, and began to speak in an unfamiliar language, hissing words, snorting throatily, and to Y/N's surprise, John seemed to understand.

"Yeah, you do that," he croaked and grabbed the girl's head to press the amulet against her forehead. Smoke and sizzle escaped from her body in an instant, and a throaty cry of pain tore through the room. The demon screamed in pain, sending the girl's body into convulsions, bending her arms and legs into an unnatural position.

The women next to Y/N, who in her estimation must have been her mother and grandmother, screamed in fear and clutched the rosaries they held in their hands tighter. Despite the terror painted on her face, her mother took two nervous steps forward, as if to stop the ritual.

"No," Y/N stopped her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing the woman to look at her, "Don't you dare interrupt him."

"But she's my daughter, my only daughter," the woman wept hysterically, and tears flowed from her eyes, "He's hurting her!"

"He's trying to help her," she replied firmly, and the demon wailed shrilly again, with the stench of sulfur bringing Y/N memories of hell, "It's the demon who is hurting her."

The woman tried to break free, but Y/N held her tight as John whispered the words of the spell. The demon wriggled spasmodically, the girl's legs twitched at an unnatural pace, her whole body convulsing in spasm, but John pressed her firmly against the bed, holding her head in a strong grip, protecting her innocent body from harm. Smoke rose from her forehead, her body sizzled filling the room with a nauseating smell of the burning flesh. Images of hell flashed before Y/N's eyes again, and she instinctively grabbed the vial of sand tucked under her shirt in an attempt to ward them off.

*

Morpheus saw through her eyes the image of a writhing possessed human body, smelled the stench of burnt flesh, tasted the rot in his own mouth, felt the pounding heart in his own chest, the uneven breathing in his own lungs. He saw terrified human faces, heard the scream of the beast ripping from the throat of the human girl, saw John Constantine leaning over the girl's motionless body as if listening to her breathing. An expression of surprise was painted on his face. Morpheus saw the world through Y/N's eyes, and pain tore at his soul.

"I'm always beside you…" he said in his mind, while the image disappeared.

*

"John…. I do not think it worked…" Y/N let go of the mother, who slumped to the floor in terror and huddled against the wall.

"What the hell…" John whispered confused, but before he had time to react the shape of a demon rose from under the surface of the girl's skin and attacked him. For a split second, Y/N's heart froze in her chest, but John reacted instantly. In one strong swing, he punched the demon and the girl's body fell back onto the bed.

"Did you just hit it?" she asked with inappropriate amusement in her voice.

"And what the fuck was I supposed to do!" he snarled, "Fuck! I need a mirror," he looked at those gathered, "Now!!! At least three meters tall!" he called out after the men rushing out of the apartment.

"Why do you need a mirror?" Y/N asked but John instead of answering grabbed a chair with which he shattered the glass in the window and began to move the bed towards it, "John!? What the fuck are you doing?!

“Fucker is still in her,” John explained as he ripped cables from a wall, “We’re gonna trap it in the mirror.”

“There are at least a dozen other ways to lure the demon out, better than trapping it in a mirror."

"I thought I was clear, stay away from it," the men came running from the corridor carrying a large mirror in fours, which at John's command they strapped with cables and lifted above John's head. "Close your eyes and whatever happens don't look," John instructed after which he placed his hand on the girl's forehead and, pressing all his weight against her body, began to recite the words of the incantation. The demon hissed, growled choking under his pressure, twitched trying to break free, groaned monstrously trying to fight him. He almost had it, Y/N could see its faint shadow slowly seeping into the mirror when suddenly one of the men drawn by curiosity opened his eyes. In an instant, his black beard and hair turned white, and in horror, he let go of the mirror he was helping to lift and moved away from the bed falling to the floor. The mirror fell down. John tried to hold it up, with one hand still restraining the demon. The spell weakened. The demon broke free, grabbed John by the throat, and, growling throatily, began to choke him.

"Screw the mirror!" Y/N ran up to John and placed both hands on the girl's face and began to speak the words of her exorcism.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica….

"Show yourself you ugly son of a bitch," John breathed out as the demon weakened and let go of his throat.

Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te…. cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare….

Y/N felt the air move around her and saw tiny sparks of light leaping from her fingers to the girl's face. John saw them too.

Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanae salutis….

The demon hissed throatily and John felt his strength give way under the strain of their combined power.

Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine…. quem inferi tremunt…

"Smile, you prick," John growled.

Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.

And the demon smiled. In the mirror, Y/N could see its true form. An emaciated bony body, covered with gray burnt skin with only half a head and a black hole filled with blackened rot.

"He is with us Witch," the demon looked at Y/N and half his head moved as if curious, "He is with us in hell, and his body sizzles day and night torn apart with hooks, hung on racks, stabbed, ripped, burned, torn apart, reassembled and torn apart again. Do you know how beautifully a new soul tears apart?"

"Go fuck yourself," Y/N growled furiously.

"And how he laments, how he cries, how he wails," the demon continued, "Do you know that he didn't want to die? He repeats it over and over again as we tear him apart and feed on his blood and flesh."

"She told you to go fuck yourself," Constantine looked at the demon, "for your boss," he added and put out his middle finger.

Y/N extended her hand in front of her and, without waiting for the men to pull the mirror outside, she reached for her power and, pushing the mirror away from her, sent it, along with the frame, through the window. She saw the mirror break as the demon tried to get out, but it was too late. The mirror fell to the sidewalk shattering into millions of pieces.

The blackness disappeared from the girl's face, the veins took on normal color and the pupils returned to their place as she opened her eyes with a deep breath. Terrified, confused, she began to struggle, crying, calling her mother.

"Hush," Y/N climbed onto the bed and began to calm her, stroking her sweaty face, "Calm down, come on, hush now, I'll help you," she repeated, untying her hands, "You're safe now. The nightmare is over," she assured as the girl rose and crying desperately hugged to her, suppressing the panting cry in her chest, "You are safe. You're safe…" she repeated stroking her hair, "Nothing will harm you…" she assured, but her voice trapped in her throat.

In the corner of the room, she saw a woman. Not a mother, not a grandmother, not a daughter. The woman hunched against the wall looking at her with sad absent eyes, looking straight through her as the hook that was stuck on her finger marked her face with bloody wounds. Y/N knew she was looking at Despair.

***

John slept a deep sleep, but you couldn't. Although your body was tired and exhausted after a long day of work your mind was awake. The few glasses of whiskey you drank with John did not lull you to sleep as you had hoped, did not allow your thoughts to quiet down and let your consciousness drift off into Dreaming. Staring at the ceiling, you couldn't stop thinking. First Desire, then the Three, and finally Despair, the reality seemed to be slipping away from you. You tried to recall Morpheus' words about the natural state of symbiosis that existed between humans and the Endless, but your reason and intuition kept whispering quietly the words of doubt, making you so aware that there was nothing natural about it.

You tried in every way to explain the sudden appearance of Endless in your life. People, even the ones who were mystically gifted, had never encountered anything bigger than a Demon or, in an even worse case, an Angel in their entire lives. Constantine was the only exception you knew, but even he was unable to see what it was you saw. You asked him, Despair was visible only to your eyes. "Why?" you once again asked yourself the same question. It had been months since you had first wandered unintentionally into the Dreaming, since Morpheus had first appeared in your life, and you had somewhat resigned yourself to the fact that the source of your abilities would remain unknown. "Why dwell on it when through them I have got to know him," you explained to yourself. And yet, lying on an uncomfortable hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn't accept that his sibling had appeared in your life with the same ease. "Did I set in motion a chain of events by bonding myself with the Dream? Did I open myself to others by giving myself to him?" you fiddled with the amulet with your fingers, "Should I tell him about it?" you wondered, but something kept you from following this thought. Whether it was Crones' warning or your own intuition, you didn't know, but you knew something was keeping you from telling him. "There is so much I don't know about him…" you realized. You had to admit to yourself that you didn't know how he would react, you didn't know what chain of events it would set in motion. You assumed, based on the story of his capture and imprisonment, that he didn't have a good relationship with his siblings, in fact, no one had come to his aid for over a hundred years. "How complicated must have been the relationships of beings who have existed since the creation of time." The Dream was to you what he wanted to be, he offered you everything he wanted to offer you, and only your imagination told you how much you didn't yet know about him. Because can you really know someone who has been around forever? "Can I trust that Dream will even let me get to know him as he is, and not some version of him that he created especially for me?" you asked, and sadness slowly crept into your heart.

You didn't want to think about it, you wanted to love and be loved, you wanted to give yourself to Dream and let him sweep you away, take you away from this pit of despair you called life. You wanted him to hide you in the Dreaming, to hide you from pain, suffering and constant struggle, you wanted to lose yourself in the Dream, you wanted to disappear with him in some small corner of his Realm, where night and day you could make love hidden from the world. However, despite your desires, you knew that life, even Endless' life was more complicated. You had to admit to yourself that you weren't sure you would have agreed to stay in the Dreaming forever if he had proposed. You loved him, but you had your responsibilities, your task to fulfill. You couldn't abandon your calling for love, and you knew he couldn't do it either.

Suddenly your overwhelmed self lit up with a stormy light awakening your senses, alerting them to the approaching change. The air around you seemed to bend, curving as you saw a vortex of golden sand forming in the middle of the room. Your heart leaped joyously as Morpheus emerged from the sand. Wrapped in his mystical cloak that hid a galaxy of stars, he looked at you with his endless eyes, and the stars shone joyfully upon seeing your smiling face.

"Hello beloved," you whispered rising from the bed. You came up to him, and he, without hesitating, kissed you deeply.

"You were missing from a Dreaming," he said, and you couldn't help but think if his voice would ever stop sending shivers down your spine, "I was worried."

"I can't sleep," you replied softly.

"Something on your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you replied giving in to his embrace.

"I saw," he stated as his cloak wrapped around you tightly.

"You saw? What do you mean?" you were surprised.

"For a moment I saw the exorcism you performed with Constantine," Morpheus explained.

"Just like when I heard your thoughts," you recalled the night Morpheus retrieved his ruby, "Morpheus, is it because of the vial of sand?"

"No," he replied shortly, "The sand contains an aspect of my existence, but it doesn't grant such possibilities. Not by itself." You looked at him questioningly, and he continued, "Just as I can't see the dreams of people in the Waking World, the sand wouldn't let me see your thoughts. The power that grants us this connection comes from you, not from me."

"But I'm just a Witch."

"Just a witch," he chuckled softly, "You sure?"

You clung to him, saying nothing. You didn't know how you could comment on this, since you yourself had questioned your reality barely moments ago.

"Come with me to Dreaming," Morpheus said quietly, "You need to rest." You just nodded and looked at John, "Don't worry, he will know."

*

Looking at his palace shining with a million lights against the starry night, you couldn't help but wonder about the dawning laws of night and rising day in Dreaming. After all, his Realm existed regardless of the time of day in the real world, after all, somewhere in the world at any time there was night. Yet the times of day and night seemed to change in Dreaming according to the will of its Ruler, like everything else.

"It's so beautiful," you gasped in admiration of the palace, "Absolutely stunning."

"Thank you," Morpheus accepted the compliment, "I think I've rebuilt it even more majestic than it was," he assessed his work then stood in front of you and looked deeply into your eyes with that gaze that seemed to look straight into your soul. "In the west wing, I have prepared chambers for you. In them, you will find all the comforts you may need. If you are missing something, if I haven't thought of something, tell me. I will personally see to it that the palace servants take care of it."

"Morpheus I…you didn't have to," you replied stunned.

"I wanted to," a faint smile appeared on his face, "You cannot fall asleep under the open sky every time and run home when you need something."

"Does that mean I'll find a coffee maker there?" you quipped.

"Coffee maker and anything else you want, " he laughed softly. “In my Realm your every wish will be granted.”

"Don't tempt me," you smirked, “Or I will start getting ideas."

Morpheus only smiled after which he took you by the hand and led you over a narrow bridge to the palace. It rose above the river that surrounded the palace, and in its perfectly smooth surface of water millions of stars reflected their splendor. You felt like when he first led you to the Dreaming, only now you were not following him, but walking side by side with him. As usual, he guided your arm under his, and your hand found its place on his forearm. He smiled at you with a smile discernible only to your watchful eyes. You could see the happiness in his eyes, the pride even as he led you towards the huge majestic gates of the palace. As you walked closer, you drew in the air loudly with amazement as the wyvern, griffin, and hippogriff bowed their heads in greeting to their Ruler. Their beauty and majesty took your breath away as they spread their wings proudly and addressed their Monarch.

"Greetings, My Lord," they spoke one after another.

"They are real," you whispered quietly squeezing Morpheus' shoulder tighter.

"Of course, they are real, as real as they can be in the Dreaming. They are entrusted to guard the entrance to the palace. They've been informed that you're always welcome here," Morpheus explained, and only now you realized that they were not only bowing to him, but also to you.

"Greetings, Milady," Gryffin addressed you politely, and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"You will have to get accustomed to it," Morpheus noticed the blush appearing on your cheeks and smiled warmly, "Do not forget that I am the Ruler of this Kingdom, and you are mine. Everyone is obliged to show you proper respect." He explained as he led you through the palace gates, which opened on their own sensing his arrival.

The great hall, which only a few months ago you saw in a state of ruin and decay, now marveled with its mystical beauty. Numerous marble pillars were decorated with statues, reminding you of the great kings' palaces you had read about in fantasy books. The pillars were connected by arches under a high vault that, to your delight, was not a ceiling, but an open sky with delicate white clouds moving over its starry surface. At the end of the hall, a high winding staircase led to the King's throne, behind which shone huge stained glass windows in colors of gold, blue and green.

You wanted to stop and admire the sky overhead, marvel at every intricately created sculpture, every refraction of light, but Morpheus led you down a narrow corridor to the right up the stairs to the west tower.

"The entire west wing has been emptied and prepared just for you," he began quietly, "No one but me has permission to enter it. You are free to explore the castle, but you are not allowed to venture beyond its boundaries to the Dreaming itself, I can not ensure your safety within its changing borders."

"You speak as if I were to stay here longer," you said quietly, and Morpheus stopped in place, looked at you, took your hand, and brought it up to his chest, as was his custom.

"If you wish my palace can become your home" the stars shone with desire when the depth of his voice pierced you to the core.

You wanted to, you knew you should say something, yet the words seemed to be stuck within you. Your heart pounded ferociously as he looked at you this way, expecting an answer, and for a moment you even imagined yourself dressed in a beautiful gown, as you walked the majestic corridors of the palace day and night, as you accompanied him in his creation, as you explored the endless books in his library, free from pain, free from struggle, free from the cares of mortal life.

"Morpheus…" you began, and although you wanted with all your being to abandon your past life and stay with him in a Dreaming forever, "We need to talk…"

Morpheus reached for the handle and opened the door to one of the huge chambers that were meant to be yours.

"I hope you will find it to your liking," he said, ushering you into a room composed of shades of black, burgundy, and pale gold. Cozy, mystical, inviting. The fluffy carpet asked you to take off your shoes and touch it with your bare feet, and the armchairs and sofas invited you to relax and disappear into the world hidden in the many books that awaited you on the shelf. The huge bed invited you to sleep, to drift off into a land of oblivion and relaxation. A large dressing room hid countless gowns that promised to wrap your body with the touch of silk and velvet. The huge wings of the balcony window opened a view of the entire western side of the Kingdom, promising the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets.

"Morpheus I don't know what to say," you sighed, running your hand along the walls and furniture.

"This is all yours."

"Do you really want me to stay here?"

"Yes."

You opened the balcony door and stepped outside, inhaling deeply the freshness of the warm night air. You leaned against the railing and stared at the Dream's Kingdom stretching out before you. So calming, so delightful, how could you resist his invitation, how could you refuse him. Morpheus came up to you and also leaned against the railing staring at you. You knew he was waiting for an answer, you knew he was waiting for an answer you couldn't give him.

"I saw Despair," you said quietly, "Or at least I think so."

"In your profession, it seems to be expected."

"No, you don't understand, I saw Despair," you raised your eyes and gazed into the endless blackness of his night trying to read his reactions, "I also met Desire."

"Explain," he ordered, and although it seemed impossible the universe in his eyes darkened even more.

"Today, after the exorcism was completed, I saw Despair. A woman. She was sitting in the corner of the room and I was the only one who saw her," you said quietly gazing into the distance, you so wished Morpheus would wrap his arms around you instead of gazing into your soul, "she looked so…sad. Her eyes were so empty. There was something like a hook on her finger, she was cutting her face with it," you raised your eyes to Morpheus again, but his face remained the same, clouded, stern, "she also saw me. She looked directly at me."

"What about Desire?" the tone of his voice made fear creep into your heart.

"That was a few days ago. Right after we came back from England, right after you discovered that David wasn't in the Dreaming," you began to explain.

"I want you to tell me the details," he demanded.

"Fuck… how to say it," you blushed again, "I was a bit turned on after you left me so suddenly, if you know what I mean," Morpheus' stern look didn't make things any easier for you, "But before I could do anything I suddenly found myself in their Realm I guess. I think so. It was a big red chamber, and Desire was there. Like they were waiting for me," you tried to explain, but couldn't find the right words. You grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the chamber. You sat down on the bed on your shod feet and pulled him gently forcing him to sit down facing you. "I don't know if this is going to work," you began to explain seeing his confused look, "I rarely do this with people, and you're not human, but let's try," you reached out and put your fingers to his temple.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't explain everything in words, so I'll show you," you explained, "Relax and let me in," you instructed.

You focused on him, staring deeply into the endless universe of his eyes, trying to penetrate deeper, trying to find that connection that existed between you, like an invisible thread linking you in a joint fate. For a moment he resisted you, trying to push back the pushing force, but you did not give up. You took his face in your hands and pushed with your power even harder, and the resistance gave way. Inertia swept over you completely, as if you suddenly found yourself adrift in an impenetrable abyss of darkness. You closed your eyes and saw it. A shiny silver thin thread, shimmering against the blackness. You grabbed it with all your strength and Morpheus saw everything. He saw the red chamber and you standing dressed in black. He saw Desire hovering around you, brushing the hair away from your neck, touching your chest. You could feel his feelings, the rage boiling just below the surface, ready for action. He heard the words with which Desire taunted you, heard your strong answer, and you felt his darkness lighten with warmth. He saw everything you saw, felt everything you felt. And you knew he was angry.

You opened your eyes when you felt the touch of his gentle hands on yours. The abyss of his eyes remained indescribable as he held your hands in his own.

"That's why you asked me about the nature of Endless," he stated quietly.

You nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Your power is extraordinary, my dear," he said and kissed your palms, "Thank you for showing it to me."

"I didn't plan to hide it from you, it just all happened so fast…" you justified yourself.

"I know, you don't have to explain yourself," he interrupted you.

"What are you going to do?"

"I do not know yet. Perhaps my siblings need to be reminded that we don't meddle in each other's affairs," the stars in his eyes lit up menacingly only to soften a moment later when his eyes met yours again, "You said you were mine before you said it to me," he noted, "Despite such understandable doubts, you gave yourself to me." There was nothing but deep tenderness in his voice.

"I meant what I said. I love you," you said quietly, "yes, there are a billion questions and a billion doubts in my head, but my love for you is not something I question. Desire, Despair, Lucifer himself can go fuck themselves for all I care. I am all yours and you are all mine."

Morpheus only drew you to him so that in his arms you lay down on the bed. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his devotion onto your lips. Cuddled in his arms, you finally allowed your nerves to relax, to let go of the burden that had been weighing you down for days.

"Sleep, My Heart. I will watch over you," he said, and you drifted off into a blissful state of unconsciousness.

~~TBC~~

~~***~~ Authors note: Throughout this past week I was sure that I won't be able to get the chapter out this week. I had the whole weekend planned so I was writing during a week to get as much as I could do. On Friday I was almost at 5k words. I wrote a bit on Sunday, and suddenly it turned out that I have Sunday free after all. So after a moment of pondering I decided to add one more "small" scene. Well, that small scene kinda grew! Sorry, not sorry. I do hope that you enjoyed this long chapter and the direction in which the story is proceeding. Fun fact! I never planned on making Constantine such a big part of the story, but he brings great energy, and tbh I've always been a fan. Thank you for sticking with me through another chapter. See ya at the next one! And as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading. ~~***~~

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Dream With A Pregnant S/O Would Include...

Request: Yay! Requests are open! If your comfortable with it, could we get some headcanons with Morpheus having a pregnant s/o? I sense some angst due to the fact he lost his first child

This was actually very angsty to write but I hope this is alright my lovely, thank you for the request! Also I still haven’t read the comics yet (shame on me I know I deserve it), so I had to a little research so sorry if this is really OOC <3

(I do not own the Sandman or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @darklinsblog.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Oh my cheekbone man, my ass is quaking at the amount of eyeliner you manage to flawlessly put on while mine smudges till I look like a drowned skunk, my icon so pale you might as well be see through and wearing a face so pouty it’s like you’re smelling you’ve ripped and constantly have to smell a terrible fart 24/7 I want to give you a little smooch so bad my baby girl coded fashonista you’re the worst man ever I love you always and forever cat man.

Okay back to a more fitting tone for these slightly angstier headcanons!

It had been just a normal day: you were trying to help Lucienne clean up the ledgers she had been scouring through and left abandoned all over the gilded tiles. Every time you picked one up and started seeking out the correct shelf, Dream would distract you by appearing round the nearest corner of stacked books and chasing you through the dusty paraphernalia until you were near knocking over ancient volumes. It was the most joyous you had seen him in ages, as soon as he had managed to manifest in front of you and pin your wrists up against the creaking volumes. One minute you were giggling, trying to wriggle away from him, and the next his face is hovering over yours before he leans down to press a lingering kiss against your lips. The smirk seems to grow and bloom across his face, like the first breath of a beguiling spring when your waist bucked up against his and made him break away, leaning on his elbow to overshadow you with his adoring glow. Eventually, before he could relent and dip down for more, Lucienne has managed to cough loud enough to catch the Lord of Dreaming’s attention, asking him to step aside for a word.

What you couldn’t see, when he brushed his fingers down the side of your cheek and stepped off with his back to you, was what Lucienne was holding in her arms. Opening up the crisp pages, she shows Dream the newest ledger for the Dreaming, and the footnote on the bottom of page five hundred and two that has suddenly appeared: a new, faint heartbeat has risen over the last week within the dream world - one that seems to be connected to your own. For the first time in over several millennia, Dream is shocked to the point of inanimation; the book slips through his fingers and cracks down in shoots of thunder onto the marble floor. You creep over behind him, your heart pattering against your breast at the way his eyes have widened large enough to fit all of Saturn’s rings inside of their ethereal luminesce as he stares down at a new scuff on his shoes with intense concentration. Lucienne has managed to excuse herself and backed slowly out towards the door, so startled by the hailstones that seem to be cast in furious hurls across Dream’s placidly contorting face. When you finally dare to step round and press a cupped hand to the back of Morpheus’ neck, he finally blinks when you press a kiss to his chalcedony cold cheek. ‘Are you alright, my love. I- I hope Lucienne had no news that… perturbed you so-’. Before you could even finish your stammering thought, Dream has turned and tucked his arms around you so tightly you fear you may pop into shards of transient beauty right there and then. 

From time to time, while he’s not away on business in the waking world, he’ll spend every moment of his free time sitting beside you on your shared throne. After a moment of warm solitude shared between the two of you, the feeling of his forehead depressing from your own is replaced by him slipping down the seat. Crouched now on the floor by your feet, his cape crinkles and rustles like violet drops of stardust across the planes of your touching feet. He dips his head down till he’s staring at your belly button, observing it as a hand raises to spread like growing vine over the stretching skin. With intense concentration, he brings the shell of his ear down: with each sense, with each fibre of his wistful being, he tries to absorb all he can about this life growing inside of you. Although he’s far too pride-stricken to ever admit to it, the tears that cascade down the curve of his nose and fall down sweetly onto the inside of your thigh gives away just how enraptured he’s become in dreams of this new life.

Keep reading

Daughter of Evil | Sandman Imagine

Summary: The Dream Lord has never seen eye to eye with Trigon’s daughter but one night the tension is too much to bare.

Pairing: Morpheus x Raven! Reader

Author’s note: I just wanted an excuse to use this GIF okay? And yes this has a certain degree of smut

Agilieth was a demon you had to put on check, as the daughter of Trigon and Arabella you were this dark entity that most of the times would get misunderstood.

Yes, your core was what most people would consider evil or deranged but in truth you had risen above your nature, you weren’t here to cause pain and destruction, you were here to protect the world from all the evils you knew.

You had the demon under your control, ready to send him away to Hell and this time make sure he could not resurface.

“Wait Y/N!” You groaned at hearing the voice of the Dream Lord, it was amazing to you how he always showed at the worst times.

“Morpheus, get out of here” you instructed him.

“Agilieth has information I require” he tried to reason with you.

“And you are interfering in my affairs” you groaned, the back and forth with the King of Dreams making you lose your focus and giving Agilieth a window of opportunity to attack you, making you fly out to the other side of the room.

The demon was close to escaping, but as you grew irritated you focused all your power to fulfill your task.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!” You exclaimed, your hands turning black as you casted the demon away.

As the mattered was handled you marched to Lord Morpheus grabbing him by the collar, but he didn’t seem happy with you either.

“You know what could’ve happened if Agilieth was on the loose?” You hissed in his face.

“You have no idea what you just did. That demon knew something about my helm” he groaned, you smirked sarcastically.

“Well guess what Lord Morpheus? Your interest mean shit to me” you were breathing heavily in each other’s faces, your hearts were beating loudly and you were inches away from one another, it was impossible for Morpheus not to divert to your lips

Maybe it was impulse or frustration or both things at once, but he kissed you passionately, your body immediately went with the flow of him, matching his heated energy.

When you broke apart Morpheus’ looked perplexed as if he couldn’t grab his head around what just happened.

“I do not-“

“Shut the fuck up” you said, tired of the situation, you didn’t want to think, you just wanted to act and regret later.

This time you were the one who had kissed him but this time around you didn’t put any resistance, both of you committing to the heat and impulse of the moment.

It was an odd but addicting sensation to feel Morpheus’ hands on every inch of your body, ripping your clothes, marking your skin.

As Morpheus had his head buried between your legs you were moaning, surrendering to your ecstasy, looking up there was a cross above your head, it was ironic how you were doing this in a chapel, but committing a deadly sin had never felt so right to you.

Even as you came and the Dream Lord feasted on the taste of you like you were the very elixir of life, you trembled.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined what Morpheus would be like as lover and he did exceed your expectations and wildest dreams.

Normally, you would like to be in control in all aspects of your life, but you couldn’t denied it was thrilling to give the power away and be handled with such expertise and confidence.

Morpheus grabbed you by the ankles, placing you perfectly under him, he lined himself to your entrance and kissed you as he sunk deep inside you, making you tense and cry out of pleasure as you grabbed your arms around his neck and you started meeting his thrust with fervor.

The king of Dreams was in Cloud Nine right now, you felt perfect around him and your sounds of pleasure got him to a wild point, it was as if he just needed more and more.

Cumming inside you was the most sinful yet thrilling act, even the feeling of his seed running down your leg had brought upon you a sense of content almost.

Morpheus followed your every move intently, admiring how you collected your clothes and with all the patience in the world you got dressed.

He couldn’t know for sure, but he could almost swear you were doing this on purpose to lure him and it was working like a damn charm.

The Endless grabbed his arms around your waist softly, kissing your shoulder making you turn to face his blue eyes.

“Will I see you again?” He asked you confused as to where did this leave you in terms of your complex relationship.

“Well if you are eager to see me, you know where to find me” you whispered in his ear and then kissed his lips, he watched as you stood up simply before looking at him.

“It has been a pleasure, Lord Morpheus. And believe me, I don’t say that often” that was the last thing you said before going back to your dimension.

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @sandman-33 @jesllianaquilesrolon

So you know the Chinese saying that once you've saved a person's life, you're responsible for them forever? where after the reader saves Dream, Dream keeps appearing expecting the reader to take care of him and be responsible for him in a variety of situations and moments. Bonus Points: Dream doesn't exactly explain anything to the reader. Those are the old laws, the reader should be aware of what he was doing when he decided to reach out and save him and that was it.

ANOTHER BONUS: this is why no one rescued Dream— NO ONE WANTED THIS AN INFINITE LIMIT FOR THEM IN SUCH A WAY

Why Are You Here?

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: You accidentally saved the King of Dreams from his century old prison, now he's your everyday nightmare (affectionate).

Word Count: >900

Warnings: Gender neutral!reader, clingy!Dream, jealous!dream, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I think I am now finally able to write requests again 🥲🫶 slay for me Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

I wiped my face as I looked at the clock at the bottom right of my computer screen. I huffed and leaned back on my office chair, twirling myself around as I waited for my file to upload.

One.

Two.

Three twirls in.

Suddenly, I stop in a panic when a dark figure manifests in front of me.

I cling onto the side of my desk and jump out of my chair, "Dream, what are you-"

"I was unable to procure the results we had last time we baked, and I came to tell-"

I grab his arms and frantically look around my office, "what did I tell you about manifesting yourself in inappropriate settings?"

Dream looks down at me with his eyes as I look past him on both sides of his arms. His brows faintly furrow, "this is not an inappropriate setting. You are fully dressed and I am-"

"That is not what-" I quip, pinching my fingers together. I sigh as I look at the befumbled entity, his galactic blue eyes glassed with an innocent incapacity to understand he was not meant to be suddenly in my place of work. I grab his biceps and push him back.

I begin to lead him to the bathroom with our linked arms, "I can't answer your baking questions right now," I look around the room, "also, didn't we establish you should only come to me if you were in actual trouble."

He mumbles, placing a hand on my arm that was linked with his, "my cake did not rise."

I turn to him, "Dream-"

"You told me baking could alleviate my sorrow. It has done nothing but frustrate further. I would think you should bare some responsibility for the fact."

I grunt as I stop in my tracks. I pull away to cross my arms, "did you follow the recipe you have?"

Dream looks back at me, "to the best of my capacity."

"Then I don't know what to tell you," I mutter, shrugging, "I can't really see what you did-"

"Precisely why," he takes my hand, "you should come to the Dreaming with me."

I look around the room and give him an incredulous expression. I whisper-yell, "I'm working right now."

Dream steps forward. His face solemn, "I will make sure no one will notice."

Shutter.

Dream and I snap to the side. Behold, there stood my nosy co-worker, Liam, one hand holding a smoothie, and another holding up a phone, camera pointed at us.

Fuck.

"Liam," I pull away from Dream.

"I didn't take a photo of you," he immediately says, "I took a selfie." He begins to pose and take a photo of himself.

"Liar," Dream retorts with an echo, not having to open his mouth.

I look around the room when the lights flicker because of this.

Liam reacts to it, extremely on edge as he too looks around the room.

I release a breath, thinking of an excuse as to explain why this unknown man dressed for a funeral and I were talking. I look at Dream. Maybe I could say he was going to a funreal?

"So," Liam starts, shaking his head, "who's this?"

"This is..." I start, turning to Liam, "Murphy."

"Murphy?" Liam squints at the Lord Morpheus, "you don't look like a Murphy."

Dream does not respond.

Liam sips on his smoothie before pulling it abruptly away, shaking his phone, "oh I know who this is!" He points repeatedly at me, "this is they guy that has been sending you flowers!"

"No."

"What?"

Dream and I said this at the same time.

Dream turns to me, as I grab his arm and push past Liam, "good talk, Liam. Murphy has to go now."

I sigh as I lead him to the exit, "I was going to make you disappear through the bathroom, but then Liam caught us together."

He makes a sound, "do you not want me to be seen by this person who sends you flowers?"

"What?" I turn to Dream, "that was a mistake in delivery. It was for Abigail. She recently got married-- but I mean you already know that."

"I do," he mutters.

I shake my head, "Liam made a big deal out of it, like he does everything."

"Would you like to do something about Liam?"

I exit our office and drag Dream towards the elevator, "I would like for you never to suddenly pop up here again."

I watch him pout and furrow his brows, "but you are my person," he replies. He stops us both in our tracks, "the old laws bind us together."

I sigh and nod as I walk off and repeatedly press on the elevator button, "I know! I know. The old laws that even you have to answer to."

Dream's face hardens, his posture falls, "is my presence such a nuisance to you?"

"Morpheus," I sigh, "It's not your presence," I reply, "it's the fact you're at my job," I mumble, "my job that I worked so hard to get and would make me spiral if I lost."

I turn from the elevator doors to Dream as he straightens up, "it was not my intention to cause you distress."

I nod, "I know," I place a hand on his arm, "and you're both kind of really cute for this, and super annoying."

The elevator doors open. I motion for Dream to enter. When he does, I smile at him and wave goodbye. He looks and raises his hand, "I will redo my cake in a manner in which will impress you."

I chuckle, "I look forward to trying it."

He presses his lips into a smile, "farewell."

Chapter 4: Perhaps, Friendship?

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stay With Me ; Morpheus] ❞

morpheus x fem!reader

warnings: third person pov, 10.5k+ words, angst, mean dream, hurt/comfort, yeah

a/n: i’m so terribly sorry this took so long to write…. anyways 😛 i hope u like it!

The scent of ink and wood carried through the library, the yellow lights were dim, and Lucienne was at peace. Her study was organized, her quill was perfect, and she was ready to get a heap amount of work done.

Her quill had just touched the paper when she heard the sound of vaguely familiar laughter nearing.

Sighing, the librarian put down her quill and looked at her large, wooden doors expectedly.

Loud voices pushed her doors wide open, three culprits standing before her, all indulged in their own conversation. A reluctant smile pulled at Lucienne’s lips at the sight of Mervyn laughing, his wooden shoulders shook and his head was tipped back.

Keep reading

dream of the endless you’re such a mr darcy variant

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 8

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

non-consensual kissing and touching

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

mentions of death/killing

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 8: The Dream Plan

If you thought the first beach you’d visit in the Waking World would take your mind off things for a while, you were sorely mistaken.

For the past few days, you had taken to sulking in Ollie’s study. Trying to come up with plans for evading your Dream King had made you a bit moodier and jumpier than normal. To top it all off, you swore you had felt this immense surge of endless power find its way back to its rightful owner – has he finally retrieved all his tools? If so, it wouldn’t be long before he gets to you and finds out what you had been up to. The thought bothered you so much, you had started refusing to eat and step out of the study, enough for Ollie to put his foot down and address your depressed state. Ever the fusspot, he insisted you come with him on a trip to Cape Kennedy, Florida, for a change of view, saying it would be good for your health. You had wondered vaguely why he chose this place, but you just got a shrug from him, mumbling how there was just “something about it” that drew him in. After reluctantly agreeing, all he had to do was dream of the room he was staying in so you could travel through his dream to meet him in the Waking.

Instead of calming your inner storm, however, going to the beach only made you realize how sorely you missed the ones in the Dreaming. With a twinge of sad nostalgia, you recall just how fine their sand felt as you wriggled your toes in them, and how the serene waters were the loveliest shade of blue. Involuntarily, a pair of eyes in the same shade, with galaxies swirling in righteous anger, floats into your line of vision – the unwelcome image goes away in a blink; a mere hallucination. It takes all your willpower to not stagger backward and make a run for it, so when you see a young woman with colourful dreadlocks in the distance, crouching before a raven, you quietly thank the Fates for a much-needed distraction. You’ve met the woman in passing at the Bed and Breakfast you’re staying at, so you take a step forward to say a more proper ‘hi’ this time.

You don’t get a chance to, for someone grips your arm tightly and hurriedly drags you away from the bizarre scene.

“What the – hey, what in the –”

You object to the intrusion, yanking your arm away and eyeing whoever it is. Whatever indignant retort you had bubbling at your throat dies down, leaving your mouth agape. What is he doing here?

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, doll.” The Corinthian gives you a mock salute in greeting.

“Corinthian,” you tilt your head to greet him back. “What was that all about?”

Smiling cheekily, he replies, “You should be thanking me. I just saved you from meeting your maker earlier than I’m sure you planned.”

Wide-eyed, you shudder inwardly at his insinuation. “You mean that’s his raven? How can you be so sure?”

“I overheard them.”

With a quiet gesture to follow him, you both walk away from the scene, ensuring you’re both out of earshot.

“What is a Dreaming raven doing, talking to Rose Walker?”

“You’ve met her?”

“Yes, she’s a fellow tenant at this place we’re staying.”

“Oh? I’m guessing you’re with your lover? You like getting yourself in trouble, don’t you?” He says playfully, wagging a finger at you.

Ignoring his comment, you repeat your question: “What’s a raven of the Dream Lord doing with her?”

“Don’t you recognize her? She’s a vortex.”

The Corinthian’s revelation makes you halt your steps in your shock.

“So, you are familiar with Vortexes.”

“I’ve read about them. Dreams are drawn to them, like moths to a flame.”

“Smart as ever, doll. As for me, I’m going to make her kill Dream.”

“No,” You say, shaking your head at him in incredulity. “You’re really not going to do that, are you?”

His smirk only grows wider, more sinister. “No spoilers, doll. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

Your heart sinks at this – it’s clear he has made his choice, and there is no saving him from it. A sudden, concerning thought crosses you:

“He’s going to use her to draw out those who are missing.”

“Oh, you think?” He remarks sarcastically, looking around the beach with faint interest.

“It was a mistake, coming here,” you say in a haunted whisper.

Humming thoughtfully, he asks you, “What are you gonna do, then, Dream’s little plaything?”

“Don’t call me that,” You pout at the nickname, eyes darting at the beachgoers, looking for signs of Rose or the raven. “I must go and warn Ollie. What are you going to do?”

Hands in his trench coat pockets and with a confident air about him, he drawls, “What I do best.”

You give a final nod in his direction and say, “Thank you, Corinthian, for…this.” You gesture awkwardly between the two of you. “Take care of yourself.”

Chuckling lightly, he responds, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, doll. I can take care of myself just fine. You, on the other hand…” he trails off, clicking his tongue.

He turns his back on you with a single wave, and you watch him vanish in the crowd of incoming beachgoers.

***

As soon as you enter the room, you find it void of the doctor, much to your dismay. The bed had been made, his clothes tucked neatly inside the dresser, and he had the towels replaced. He had at least tidied up the place before he left. Looking around, you notice a box on the table with a note attached to it. The note reads, in Ollie’s immaculate handwriting:

Mera,

I’m out witch-hunting lol :) back before dinner

I left you money for food if you get hungry,

should be enough to order an entire menu ;D

True enough, you lift the box, and you find ten one hundred dollar bills. The box itself, to your surprise, held a six-inch cherry chocolate cheesecake, which he must’ve ordered in after you left.

The cake looks fantastic, but you find yourself without an appetite, so you set the box down and start packing his things. You neatly fold every shirt and every pair of pants he hung in the dresser and place them in his luggage. You then pack the pair of shoes he had left under the table, and after ensuring everything else he had brought is tucked in the luggage trolley, you sit on the couch and wait.

After about six hours of waiting in the room, you had finished off half of the cake he left in your boredom; you’re restless, scared to death that your master might pop in the room any minute to whisk you away from the Waking for good. Sick of counting the flowers on the wallpaper, you take some of the money he left on the table and sneak out of the room to take a walk in the town square. You had heard Rose and her friend, Lyta, talk in the lobby about searching for a lost relative – you didn’t really stick around, not wanting to draw attention to yourself – all you found out was that they would be out the entire day. You expected Dream’s raven to stick with them, so you figured it would be safe. After about three servings of frozen yogurt and three hours later, you head back to the Bed and Breakfast, hoping Ollie had made it back so you could leave this place for good.

As soon as you burst through the door, you find him fast asleep on the bed, still in his day trousers. Looking closely, you notice a third-edition LeRêve device on his wrist, its extending wires strapped to his fingers. Wasting no time, you travel to his dreams, ready to give him an earful and drag him to the nearest airport to get as far away from Cape Kennedy as possible.

You arrive to find him on his desk reading a pocket-sized, antique-looking leather-bound book that you’ve never seen him read before.

 He looks up from the book as soon as he feels you arrive. He spiritedly gets up from his desk to approach you, saying, “I’m sorry for leaving you alone at the last minute, Mera, but I’ve been busy. Hear me out: I think know how to keep you safe.”

You let out a humorless chortle, and admit, “Ollie, we’ve thought of everything. Cutting off your consciousness from the Dreaming isn’t enough, now that he’s got a Vortex cooperating with him. That’s what I came here to tell you. We have to leave this place. He’s going to find me soon. Getting away from here can at least buy me more time.”

“What ‘vortex?’ And why did you pack? I need more time to figure this out.”

Now visibly panicking, you grab him by the arms. “Figure what out, Ollie? We don’t have time for this!” You strain out, slightly shaking him. Without your control, tears start to pool out of the corners of your eyes. If he finds me, he finds you. 

Very gently, Ollie breaks free from your grip, cups your cheeks with both warm hands, and brings your foreheads together.

“You have to trust me, please. Remember what you did for me, even after I placed that binding curse on you? You came back for me and helped me. I want to do the same for you. Don’t cry, please. He’s never going to hurt you again, not under my watch.”

Sniffling, you give him a tiny nod, touched by his determination to protect you from a being with powers beyond his comprehension. If there is even a tiny percentage of his plan working and staying with him, you decide to cling on to that at that very moment: anything, anything, just you could be free with him.

“Alright. What have you got?”

He sighs in relief, wiping your tears with his thumbs, and says, “Wards.” He grabs the open book he left on the desk and waves it excitedly in the air.

At your befuddled look, you explain further, “I drove all the way to Jacksonville to meet this witch I saw on Facebook. That was a hundred and sixty miles away, can you believe it? And I told her I keep being followed by this supernatural thing and I wanted to keep it away, and she asks what supernatural thing, right? So I told her I don’t know, but it’s powerful beyond –”

“Ollie,” you interrupt, waving a hand in his face. “You’re rambling. What did she say?”

“She sold me this book about magical wards. So, what if I can put up these wards in my dream –”

“The way they’re used in the Waking,” you finish his sentence for him. “It’s a novel idea, Ollie, but I’m not sure how a simple set of wards could keep an Endless away.”

In your head, flashes of a circular glass cage cross your vision. “But I think I’ve seen a barrier that kept one at bay.”

Ollie’s face lights up with hope at your comment. “We have to try, right?”

Tacitly, you agree, asking, “What do you need?”

“Just give me a few days. Please.”

You nod, starting to feel sick in the stomach at the price you need to pay to buy him time.

Don’t do it, comes the Voice’s ominous warning.

“I have to go back to the Kingdom.”

He turns his head away from the book sharply and narrows his eyes on you. “What did you just say?”

Expecting this reaction, you sigh deeply, sitting back down on the couch and pointedly ignoring the Voice’s protests. “I have to appear in the castle, so they don’t suspect a thing.”

“No. No, absolutely fucking not. You’re going over my dead body.” Ollie’s brows are furrowed together, and he places his hands on his hips in indignance at your proposal.

“Ollie, I don’t like it any better than you do. But please, hear me out. The Vortex I mentioned? It’s a human being with powers that can include traveling through other people’s dreams. She’s here, right in that building with us. Anything to do with dreams and nightmares, she draws nearer to herself, and she’s working for the Dream King. If I don’t go right now, they’ll realize I’ve been with you this whole time.”

Ollie, rubbing the back of his head, dons a distraught, yet resigned expression. “Are you sure there’s no other way?”

You shake your head glumly. With a sudden inspiration, you close the distance between you two. You fish out the dreamcatcher that had made its home in your pocket, untouched for almost a year. You hold it between your thumb and forefinger and show it to him.

He looks at the all-too-familiar object with a confused smile. “I thought you destroyed that.”

“I don’t know why I kept it. You’re still a bastard for binding me to it,” you jest, placing it back into your pocket and adding, “But I’m glad I did.” Breathing deeply, you summon all the courage you have in your heart for what you’re about to do.

Standing on your toes (he’s so bloody tall), you wrap your arms around his neck and plant a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you later. Keep safe.”

And in an instant, you will yourself back to the sea of dreams for the first time in months, leaving him flustered and red as a tomato in the face.

***

In the fantastical dreams of Barbara McKean or Barbie, as she likes to be called, a dense fog engulfs the figures of a young female with rainbow dreadlocks and a tall, dark-haired male clad in flowy robes of black.

As Rose Walker takes slow, calculated steps through the fog, the King of Dreams follows wordlessly after her. His expression cold and unreadable, he watches the Vortex tread onwards with hands wading through the thick gray mist before her, perhaps looking for an exit from this dream. Morpheus can feel her dogged determination to find the dreams of her brother – his quest, on the other hand, is to fetch a Nightmare called Gault, whom he suspects may have kept her brother away in an effort to mislead him and exercise her own powers to rule a dream she has full control of. Another subject of his had gone rogue and had overstepped their boundaries. If only his creations know well to toe the line and obey the rules he has set out since the inception of his kingdom, he would be somewhere else, perhaps deep in the dreams of other mortals, in search of a dream that had proved so loyal, enough to sacrifice her safety to find him and save his dying kingdom. Perhaps, should they follow your example, he might be inclined to enact a more merciful punishment.

The fog before them gathers right in front of his companion, swirling to the middle to form a single door. Rose Walker hesitates for a moment, before pushing it open and stepping into the dream of another mortal.

The two unlikely pair find themselves in a neat, minimalist office, with the dreamer on his desk reading from a tiny, old book with utmost concentration.

Oliver Chapman, the said dreamer, slowly gets to his feet, placing his book inside his desk drawer.

“Excuse me, can I help the both of you?” he inquires, his suspicion-filled green eyes, glaring, locking on the galaxy-filled blue ones of Dream of the Endless.

A lucid dreamer.

The King rises to this quiet challenge, wondering inwardly why, of all the dreams he has been in since his capture, his is the only one with a strong scent of the dream most precious to him. Could his dream have recently sought refuge here, perhaps, before moving on to another’s? Are you close by, injured, too weak to come home to him and return to his arms? To his credit, Oliver Chapman does not flinch; Morpheus, however, the perceptive being he is, senses his rapid heartbeat. Has he got something to hide?

“You shouldn’t be here,” he declares, his narrowing eyes never leaving the Dream King’s.

Sensing the tension between the men, Rose clears her throat loudly and says, “I’m sorry, Ollie, we were just leaving,” putting emphasis on the last word.

Just as she finishes her sentence, another door materializes on the wall of his study where it wasn’t a few moments ago. Rose glances nervously between the two before finally pushing the door open and moving on to the next dream.

With a scoff of barely-concealed contempt, Morpheus tears his gaze away from the dreamer and exits through the door after the Vortex. He might not know it yet, but Oliver Chapman just found himself worthy of another visit from him in the near future.

***

Back in the Dreaming, you surface from the seas, relieved to finally know the waters have calmed down in your King’s presence.

The King of Dreams, back in his kingdom.

Of course, you’re happy he has finally returned to restore life to the Realm you loved with every fiber of your being –but surely that meant the sealing of your fate to a function you had dreaded to fulfill. You could hear your heart thumping loudly in your ears, and you try to compose yourself by breathing through your mouth as you begin your walk towards the towering gates. You trek past the town center, all the way to the bridge that connects the majestic palace that had been your home. It seemed only yesterday that the entire land had nothing but barren landscapes. Everything has been brought back to the way it was – the Dreamfolk, going about their lives merrily, grateful for their monarch’s return. It all reminded you of all the fun you once had before you came on your master’s radar, so it’s with a pang in your heart to have to say goodbye, granted Ollie’s plan works and your King does not get wind of it.

Ollie. You had just kissed him right before you left. If he found out…

The steps to the palace grounds shake you from your reverie. You take a final deep breath and ascend. Gripping your skirt in an effort to strengthen your resolve, you feel something solid in your pocket; fishing the object out, you see the ruby you had removed on your first day in the Waking World – his gift, or rather, his mark on you, a rather ominous reminder. You fix it on your head hastily, before darting to the Library to greet a friend you have not seen in almost a year.

Entering the Royal Librarian’s premises takes your breath away like it’s the first time you’ve seen it. You take a moment to stroke the giant shelves containing the books you thought you’d never get back in your creator’s absence, fighting back your tears of joy – humanity’s books, the same ones you’ve found solace in, now have finally made it home.

“Mera, is that you?”

At the sound of Lucienne’s voice, you spin around to see her, almost losing your balance. She has not changed a bit, except for her expression – you had gotten so used to seeing her in a morose mood for the past century, you forgot how bright her smile could be. Running to her, you give her the tightest hug you could muster.

“Mera, thank goodness you’re safe!” Lucienne exclaims in a relieved voice.

Breaking the hug, you brace yourself for the lie you’re about to tell, hoping one day, she could forgive you for it.

“I got stuck in the dreams,” you begin with a strained look, finding it difficult to tell the lie. Thankfully, she seems to mistake this as you recollecting your memory of getting lost in the waters.

“Oh, dear, what happened?” she asks, concern marring her features.

Shit. You had not prepared for this at all.

“I-I got…trapped,” you stammer, but before she could press on, you both feel the almighty presence of your King return to the shores, evidently coming from the dreams of the mortals. Has he seen Ollie?

“I’ve got to go, Mera. The Dream Lord has come back from a quest to find a Nightmare named Gault. I’ll explain everything to you later, but it isn’t safe in the palace yet – there’s a Vortex, and it’s recently been causing dream-quakes,” she explains. With a grasp on your hand, she flashes you a welcoming smile. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

And so you wait, rooted to your spot – not that you could move anyway. As much as you wanted to dig into the books and find out what your dreamers had been up to, you’re trembling and jittery, fumbling with your hands with nothing but dread filling your thoughts. What has he found out in his trip in the dreams with Rose? What if he found out about your plans or worse, what if he hurt Ollie? Your intrusive thoughts wander to an image of Ollie, eyes almost glazed over, lying in a pool of blood –

Pull yourself together, the Voice scolds.

You rub your face with your palms to erase the gruesome image. The Voice is right – now is not a good time to lose it.

As soon as you hear a pair of footsteps enter the library, you brace yourself for their arrival. You look down at the floor and try to regulate your breathing. When the footsteps come to halt before you, you bow your head in reverence – you’re in the audience of the very omnipotent being who had molded you into existence, after all. He merely stands there, yet he changes the entire atmosphere in the library to one of petrifying tension.

Dream of the Endless.

“Mera.”

The sound of his deep, velvety voice, echoing in the expansive space, sends shivers down your spine. Your hand unconsciously goes to your thigh where your other pocket is, feeling for the dreamcatcher as if trying to draw comfort from it.

“Lucienne, leave us.”

You inwardly flinch at the command he had directed at his Royal Librarian – it was the same command he had issued to her in the throne room all those years ago, the events after which haunted you ever since. Ever the obedient one, Lucienne rushes past you – your scared eyes meet her reassuring ones briefly as she mouths, ‘we’ll talk later,’ before retreating. Her footsteps die down and one of the massive doors to the library close behind her, leaving you and your master alone.

He takes dawdling steps towards you, taking his time – your eyes keep glued to his feet, willing your hands not to shake. He takes a stop a few inches right in front of you.

You see him raise his hand – is he finally going to unmake you after all the rules you’ve broken? With resignation, you wait for the excruciating pain of disintegrating into millions of grains of sand, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel a warm hand cup the side of your face ever so gently.

“Look at me.”

You are quick to raise your head and meet his eyes; in place of righteous wrath, he has an unexpected softness in his gaze, the galaxies in his blue eyes swirling in seeming anticipation. You almost get lost in it, if it isn’t for the memory in you of the same eyes that had looked at you with such lust it made your skin crawl.

As if on cue, his gaze darkens, the hunger in his eyes evident – like they did so many times before, those haunting moments still fresh in your mind.

You’ve thought of many things that would occur when you meet him again and kept playing them over and over again in your head.

His insistent lips on yours isn’t one of them.

Wrapping his other around your waist, the Dream Lord spins you around and pins you on the nearby bookshelf, inadvertently knocking off some books in the process. You close your eyes tightly, thinking of Ollie so you could endure the kiss, but his thumb on your chin forces your mouth open and he slips his tongue, tangling yours with his. Without meaning to, your palms make their way to his chest, tapping lightly, wanting to make him stop. To your surprise, his lips leave yours, and nuzzles your hair, but before your relief could register, his words make your heart sink to your stomach:

“Thoughts of you were my only solace in my capture.”

 And he takes a deep breath to smell your hair before pulling away, looking into your eyes as he strokes your jawline.

“I had feared the sea of dreams had claimed you for itself. What happened to you?”

With your breathing still uneven and shallow, you stammer in response, “I-I… got t-trapped, my Lord…”

“Trapped?”

You hope to the Fates he doesn’t see the fear in your eyes, or feel your escalating heartbeat – he waits for a response, narrowing his eyes slightly. Delaying any further could make him doubt anything else you would say, so in your rush to find an excuse, you blurt out, “S-someone trapped me using m-magic, your Majesty.”

For a second he assesses your words, trying to detect a hint of deception. But how could he? It was a partial truth, and one that you might regret revealing, but this isn’t the time to think of it.

He clenches his jaw with a look of burning outrage. With a low voice, he asks, “Who?”

“My Lord, it doesn’t matter –”

His hold on your waist tightens by a tiny fraction. “Who trapped you?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Please, my Lord, they did it because they needed my help, and they let me go in the end –”

“You must tell me, my dream. Their reason, nor their change of heart, matters not.”

You bite your lip in distress, trying to persuade him from his line of questioning. It isn’t working.

“My little dream, I am only looking after you. ‘They’ tried to keep what’s mine. I will ensure that they shall never do so again.”

“You don’t have to, my Lord, please…” you try to beg, daring to place your palm over the hand cupping your cheek. “Please, don’t…”

The Dream Lord hums lowly, and he swoops in on you and kisses you once more.

His kiss is desperate this time, as if wanting to savor every inch of your mouth – you let him, and at some point when he deepens the kiss even further, you tentatively kiss him back – anything for him to let the matter go. Will it be enough?

He growls in pleasure at your response, probably unexpecting it. This goads him on – his hands travel to your back, fondling the ribbon of your dress. Inwardly, you pray with all your might that he doesn’t undo it –

Then the ground beneath your feet shakes, forcing the both of you still your movement; grateful for the opportunity, you waste no time pulling away from his embrace and putting as much acceptable distance as possible without causing his temper to flare further.

When the quake eventually halts, your master breaks the silence with a warning: “I will soon coax it out of you. In the meantime, I forbid you to leave my Kingdom.”

You give him a wide-eyed look in protest, but he ever-so-slightly shakes his head, dismissing your objection. “It would set my heart at ease if you stayed there, my dream, until the Vortex has been dealt with. Your quarters have been restored to their original state. Your previous attendant would be happy to resume her role.”

No, this wouldn’t do; not again. You had spent so much time by yourself in that wretched prison, it almost drove you to insanity. Besides, you need as much freedom of movement as you can to visit Ollie’s progress.

So, clutching your hands to your chest in a plea, you say, “My Lord, please don’t confine me in there, I could help, or continue forming dreams –”

“No, you will not.” Despite our pleading eyes, you are met with your Lord’s resolute ones.

“Please, at least let me to the Library, I could be of use to Lucienne.”

He takes a threatening step forward with a curious expression, wondering, “Why, my dream? Do you not like your room? Or are you worried you’re going to be lonely, without company?”

No! shouts the adamant Voice in your head. Shaking your head wildly, you say, “No, sir I –”

“Well, if my dream requests it so,” he starts with a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, “I can perhaps make quick visits to your quarters to keep you company.”

Perhaps, if you could’ve just agreed, maybe it should not have come to this? Visits from him, no matter what length, seemed to always leave you with a great deal of anxiety.

“I could never tear your time away from your duties, my King,” you say in an attempt to dissuade him.

A resonating caw from above interrupts your conversation.

“Sir, sir, you have to see this!”

You look up: the raven you saw only this morning circles the high ceiling above you before swooping low and landing on the nearest desk, facing you.

“Hello, ma’am!” he greets politely with a wave of a wing.

The Dream King steps forward with a leveled expression, addressing the raven and gesturing to you. “Matthew, this is Mera. She is a dream of mine. You will address her as ‘my lady.’”

Matthew the raven caws before bowing and amending animatedly, “Oh, I’m sorry, my lady. Are you okay? You look spooked. Did he scare you? I gotta admit, he does scare me a little bit – no, not a little bit, but, like, a lot, you know –”

“Matthew.” Your creator sharply interrupts his chatter. Facing you, he motions to the bird perched on the desk with a tilt of his head. “This is Matthew, my raven.”

With a tiny wave at the raven, you greet him ‘hello’ and flash a smile. “Have you met Jessamy, Matthew?”

His dark, beady eyes blink in hesitation, and he ruffles his feathers. “Uh… I have not –”

“That is a matter we can discuss at another time, my dream,” he declares flatly, his face donning a stony mask you know so well; one that always indicates no room for more argument. His eyes bore into yours once more with clear castigation. “My word is final. No wandering around the Realm, or you shall hear from me. Come, Matthew.”

“I’ll see you around, my Lady.” At his master’s bidding, Matthew takes off with a caw and follows the Endless, whose cloak billows around him as his long strides take him away from the library and out of your sight.

The instant he’s gone, you let out the breath you’re holding in and clutch a nearby chair in support.

And once again, like he has done so many times before, he has left you feeling trapped and helpless – and this is just your first meeting with him after a century. What could possibly go down next, with that vague promise of him invading your privacy in the pretense of keeping your company?

***

Morpheus likes to think he’s a man of his word.

This is why he quietly makes his way to your chambers using his sand to avoid rousing you from what looks like a troubled slumber.

The moonlight filtering from the windows of your room illuminated your figure. In your tossing and turning, he surmises, the silken sheets that had previously protected your form from the cold, night air, now reveal quite a sight to behold: your disheveled hair partially covering your face; the strap of your thin nightgown had fallen below your shoulders, exposing your delicate flesh; your nightgown had hiked up to your soft thighs. All the powers he had at his disposal almost isn’t enough to hold himself back from ravishing every inch of you laid out for him in such a state. With a low hum, he contemplates your choice of such a flimsy article of clothing in mild amusement – had you specifically chosen that nightgown to surprise him and tease him with such a view? Knowing how innocent you are, you could not have done that, at least not intentionally. And yet, it’s one of the many qualities he desired in you – your purity, and the thought of corrupting that little by little makes his cock twitch uncomfortably.

He takes deep breaths to will his arousal down, Matthew’s advice echoing in his head.

After they had left you in the library to begin tackling a wayward Nightmare of his and his devoted followers, his raven pressed him about his relationship with the dream he had just met. Morpheus confides very little, but it was enough for the motormouthed bird to conclude the nature of your involvement together. He had then given unsolicited advice; that his ‘scary, creepy vibes’ were pushing you away, and that he had to ‘be patient and go slow’ in pursuing you. Of course, this earned him quite the ‘scary glare’ even before he’d finished his sentence.

But a hundred and six years were evidence of how patient he was in your relationship.

He had been starved of you, and he’s desperately wanting to satiate this appetite. He has to give Matthew’s words some credit, however; he had been bold in his actions before, and he had indeed, ‘spooked’ you, as his raven had noted.

He sets aside his conflicting thoughts and approaches your bed. Softly, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that covered your face. Such beauty he crafted, he muses. Is he not allowed to appreciate his own work of art? His hand moves on its own accord, tracing the outline of your cheek, all the way to the exposed collarbones he had longed to lavish with marks of his possession. The thought of you underneath him, your skin flushed with his bites – he licks his lips in anticipation. He sits on the edge of your bed as gently as he can, his eyes locking on your luscious, bare thighs. He wonders inwardly how long these thoughts would sustain him before his emotions spill over.

No; his mere, clandestine touches aren’t enough. He needs to have you soon.

***

Get up.

Get up.

UP!

The Voice renting space in your head is never this insistent, so you heed its third call, and force yourself to wake and open your eyes. True and alarmingly enough, you find your King sitting on the edge of your bed, watching you with glowing, predatory eyes.

Your immediate reaction is to cover yourself – you pull at the sheets and drape them over yourself hastily; it only partially covers your body and it doesn't help the feeling of being exposed – not under his gaze.

“Forgive me, my little dream, for the intrusion. I planned to visit only momentarily, but I’m afraid I had stalled,” His eyes travel from your face to your partly covered thigh, and adds, “I could not leave, not when I’m presented with such a…tempting sight.”

You watch in muted horror, frozen in place, as one pale hand snakes toward your flesh and strokes it ever-so-delicately, tracing invisible lines. It’s when his hand travels upward that you flinch and pull your legs closer, covering them entirely in silk and hiding it from his heated stare.

He doesn’t appreciate your instinctive reaction.

“You refuse me, still,” he coldly states, his eyes glowing threateningly. “I had thought a century was enough for you to accept your role to me.”

“My Lord,” you start, your plea barely a whisper, “I beg you to reconsider –”

Slowly, he rises from the edge of the bed – you hope against all hope that he goes away in his disappointment, but he only advances nearer to your side, his face contorted in displeasure.

“You may have forgotten: I’m still your King and your creator, and you have a duty to me. A reminder may be long overdue.”

In a split second, you find your back hitting the bed and let out a startled cry. Your master had just gotten on top of you, pinning your hands to the side, his body pressing against you and straddling you at the waist. He's still fully clothed, but you could feel the heat radiating off him, his scent almost suffocating you. You try to stifle your whimpers and avoid struggling against his hold – angering him while in such a precarious situation wouldn’t do you any good.

With a low hum, his lips hover over yours, a hairbreadth away from touching. Your breath hitches, and slowly, agonizingly, he moves down to the groove of your neck, his hot breath peppering your already-flushed skin. He then nuzzles his nose on your jawline and inhales deeply, taking in your scent as if he couldn’t get enough. He’s motionless for a few moments, then you start feeling his lips hover on the side of your face.

“You,” he growls, his hand suddenly on your thigh, hiking your nightgown up, “Are,” he strokes upward, reaching your waist, fondling the hem of your underwear, “Mine.”

“No, my Lord, please…”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your cries – tears start spilling from the corner of your eyes. When he feels the tears on the side of your face, he shushes you.

“Not another word.”

With your free hand, you cover your mouth at the threat, drowning out the pitiful noises you’re making, not wanting to upset him any further. You close your eyes, wishing this…this nightmare was over.

When he pulls away from you at last and gets off the bed, you scramble to adjust your gown and cover yourself up with the sheets. You sit up hurriedly and scoot backward until your back touches the headboard.

“You will meet me tomorrow morning, on the balcony of the highest tower in my palace. I will have my raven fetch you. Be there as I command it.”

He is gone in a flurry of sand.

It takes about five minutes before you break into tears, clutching a pillow close. You shake in uncontrollable sobbing as you squeeze the pillow tightly for comfort that wouldn’t come. As you do, you feel something solid against the soft cotton – you quickly rummage inside and take the dreamcatcher out. Once an abominable object that bound you against your wishes, it has now become your only source of strength. Nuzzling it to your cheek, your sobs die down, allowing you to think clearly and make an inward vow: no matter what he does, you will not break – for your dream of freedom and for Ollie.

It will all be over soon.

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Author notes on the Chapter:

More angy, touchy, possessive Dream Lord as promised :D

This was an adventure to write NGL. Also, I might be busy by next week - I will be out of town for work for an office party and a project, so the next update might be late (Sunday, Monday, perhaps?). Crossing my fingers I still get to write because I love this fic so much, and shit's about to unfold for our poor reader lol

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Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby@endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 12/10/22

Edit date: 12/10/22

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Tagging the following:

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I don't know what exactly to say so I make memes

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 10

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

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Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

non-consensual kissing and touching

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

angst, so much angst

threats of perpetual nightmares

the King of Nightmares living up to his name

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 10: This Dream is Over

Morpheus left the library, and you on the couch, just a tad bit disgruntled at his Royal Librarian’s interruption – and for a second time too, however unwittingly so. You were already responding to his touches, and he was so close to finally taking you fully as he had desperately wished to for so long. But, perhaps it was for the best – after all, he made a vow to you to take it slow until the fifth day tomorrow. Only one more day, he tried to placate himself.

And yet, as he paced at the foot of his throne, he recognized the frustration invading his thoughts stemming from forcing himself to separate from you (why did he care, anyway? He is the King of Dreaming, he should be able to take you wherever and whenever he pleases). He was painfully aware how bottling these complex emotions like so might lead to uncontrollable outbursts, given his experience in the past.

Just pacing in his throne room and stewing in his thoughts won’t do – he needed an outlet.

He willed himself, with a bit of his sand’s help, to a beach at the outskirts of his kingdom; a beach only he, and on rare occasions, his librarian, had access to. On one bended knee, he took a fistful of the beach’s black sand, feeling every coarse grain in his palm. He stood slowly, spreading his fingers and allowing the sand to be carried away with the light breeze. Except the sand didn’t land on the midnight-coloured shore he picked it up from – every single grain started floating in midair before him as his power commanded so, gradually taking shape.

Into what, he was unsure of yet. However, he allowed his current storm of emotions to guide him to this new creation of his, eventually concluding the nature of the being he’s forming.

He had not created such a potent nightmare in a long time.

He looked around the black shores, his workshop of sorts, with his hands clasped regally right in front of him. His thoughts landed on a certain little dream of his, as he was wont to do.

The intimate moment he had witnessed in the dream of Oliver Chapman had led him to a flare-up in the library, and you had unfortunately received the brunt of it. He had stormed off to Fiddlers’ Green to find out if you had confided to your fellow dream about any personal matters. His heart wanted to believe your word regarding your connection with the mortal that had dreamt of you in such an insulting manner, but his age-old intuition told him differently. Experience had taught him to trust such inklings, and so he begrudgingly allowed an invasive thought to cross his mind: did his beloved dream harbour…feelings for the wretched human?

This was a thought he had refused to entertain at first, for it left a bitter, cloying taste on his tongue. Furthermore, he had no reason to doubt you in such a way. How could he? He had read so in the books himself: such was your steadfast devotion to him that you were willing to risk your life in search of him.

It was the cursed Chapman he did not trust.

Was he the one who had trapped you with magic? Even worse, had he brainwashed you against him, your master and creator? Was he the reason why, even after such a long time, you still had not accepted your eternal place with him? With a low hum, he contemplated gathering more of the black sand to craft more horrors he wanted to inflict – he might have a need for more nightmares than he originally intended. But should a third visit to the cursed dreamer confirm his suspicions, he would be forced into a more drastic, devastating approach.

Perhaps he could make the doctor forget? It would be like child’s play – with a pinch of his sand, the Chapman would forget about you, thus, you would have no more reason to refuse your function and shirk your new duty. You’d finally be more accepting of your fate as the King’s only consort, an honor he had no intention of bestowing anyone else. Whether or not he would even need to would be another matter.

He stayed on the midnight shores, concocting nightmares shaped in the maelstrom of his emotions, until just a little past sunset. He had planned on retiring to his chambers afterward – there was work to be done tomorrow, after all, and a dreamer to visit – but on a whim, he materializes into his library. He found Lucienne scribbling on her desk with the lamp on, having already dimmed the lights in the library.

“My Lord,” she greeted, polite as ever, putting her quill down and getting to her feet.

Morpheus slightly tilted his head in greeting, before issuing a command: “I need you to fetch the last Chapman’s book of dreams.”

Lucienne knew never to question his motives but, this time, she furrows her brows at the request. “Sir, you had asked me to put them away in your office with the intention of never touching them again. May I ask what brought this change about?”

“A mere hunch,” Morpheus replied, purposefully being vague about his reason. As loyal as she was, he and his librarian had developed a rapport that allowed her to freely voice her opinion on both matters of the Dreaming and personal affairs, but there were things that even she need not know – his plan for the dreamer in question being one of them.

With a purse of lips and a small bow of her head, she pulled out a set of keys from her desk drawer and quietly excused herself. Minutes later, she came back with a thick leather-bound book in tow and set it down on the table, dusting it off before handing it to him.

He gripped the book with unnecessary force, immediately flipping to its last pages. To the untrained eye, there seemed to be nothing amiss – but Dream knew better. He had handled an endless number of dream-books since the inception of the library, enough to know the final pages on the Sleep Doctor’s book had been cleverly and cleanly removed from the stitching on the spine instead of simply being torn off.

“Curious,” he muttered to himself, running his fingers on the portion of the book where the pages should have been stitched.

“Sir?” Lucienne looked on with mild intrigue, eyeing the book in the King’s grasp.

“Had there been any other instance of dreams going undocumented?” Dream asked, hoping to draw a more rational conclusion. Could you have –?

“None that I am aware of sir,” she responded confidently.

Could his suspicions be true? A bright flash of light followed by a loud thunderclap reverberated through the entire Dreaming, mirroring its sovereign’s inner turmoil. But no – he knew he needed to approach the matter more judiciously. After all, the vandal that tampered with the library book may not have been acting on her own accord. He tried to take control of his simmering rage, but in doing so, his hands, still holding the book, started shaking ever-so-slightly. This did not escape the notice of his worried librarian.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty?”

Morpheus let out an imperceptible sigh. “Nothing I cannot amend, Lucienne.” Wordlessly, he handed the book back to her before walking away, retiring in his quarters. He made a beeline for his desk, where a quill and a small piece of paper lay waiting. He wrote a brief note on the paper addressed to his little dream, before traipsing to the expansive balcony that offered him a view of his Realm and the now-cloudy night sky, not minding the cold, harsh winds blowing against his form.

As soon as light touched the first blade of grass in his Kingdom, he would set to work: Fiddlers’ Green whom he would enlist to distract you, then the mortal from whom he would extract the truth, no matter the means.  

***

Ollie pulls you to him in a tight, warm hug with light shushes, trying to soothe your sobs. You’ve always liked his hugs, so you bury your face in his shirt, not caring that you were staining it with your tears. When you both pull away, he cups both your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He then places a kiss on your forehead, then whispers against your skin with the gentlest of tones:

“Then I’ll protect you with my life.”

His words were touching, but the last thing you want was for him to risk his life, not when the Endless could easily take it away with a snap of his fingers. “Ollie, he’s going to hurt you, I don’t want you to hurt…you could still run away –”

“Absolutely not,” he says, pulling away so he could look into your eyes. There isn’t a trace of fear in his, even with the impending threat on his life. At this moment, he’s the bravest human being you know, perhaps foolishly so. “I will not abandon you. I made you a promise, yeah? You will stay here, with me, and he’s never going to touch you again.”

He’s your only hope at freedom, now, but it would all be meaningless if your freedom isn’t with him. Trying to match his courage, you do something you have been meaning to do for quite some time.

“You mean, you…?”

“Take this,” you say as you place his dreamcatcher in one of his palms and cover it with one of your own. You ignore his befuddled expression and put on probably the wettest smile you’ve ever had. “This is yours. It always has been. I’m yours, Oliver, and as long as you have that, you have my heart.”

Your own confession takes you by surprise – who knew you had it in you to finally reveal your forbidden affections? Judging by his astonished look, he couldn’t believe it, either.

“Yes, I do. I love you, you big dum-dum. I love you so much,” a fresh set of tears makes your voice tremble, but they’re happy ones, and when you hear Ollie chuckle as he hugs you again, you laugh with him. You had not laughed in days – his laugh is just that intoxicating.

He cuts your winded laughter off with the gentlest of kisses on your lips. Gladly, you wrap your arms around his neck, still clutching the dreamcatcher as tight as you can, leaning into his kiss. Once both let go, elated and breathless, he holds the sides of your face in both hands and brings your foreheads together.

“I know this isn’t the time, but I love you, Mera, so fucking much,” he says with the widest smile he could muster. “I never thought you’d come around, you know. It’s what I’ve always wanted, it feels just like a dream.”

“Then maybe it is time you woke up, Oliver Chapman.”

Ice-cold shivers wrack your body at the sound of the voice, resonating in the entire dream-space – one you had hoped never to hear again.

Dream of the Endless.

Your heart rate goes through the roof as every hair on your body stands on end. You find yourself rooted to the spot – when had he entered the dream? Had he been there the entire time, masking his presence? Even worse, had he been lurking while you and Ollie poured your heart out for each other? You hastily conceal the dreamcatcher behind your back, away from his burning gaze.

Ollie recognizes the being that has come to whisk you away; immediately he positions himself before you, hiding you from your master’s view to protect you.

“Mera, stay behind me,” he orders you calmly.

You peek behind his outstretched arms to get a glimpse of your King. His eyes, the first thing you see, are pitch-black, so far from the ones that looked at you with so much warmth in the first moments of existence. The Endless that you saw then is gone now, replaced by this monstrous nightmare, with unbridled fury emanating from him in visible waves of black smoke.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is my dream, and you’re not welcome in it. I have placed runes –”

“None of which can ward me off,” he interrupts with a clenched jaw and shaking fists, his voice seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, overwhelming your senses. He takes deliberate steps toward Ollie, his cold, coal eyes never once leaving Ollie’s warm greens.

“You really think that a mere lucid dreamer is a match to one such as I?” he spits out venomously. “I am Dream of the Endless, the King of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares, the one whom you owe your dreaming abilities. There is not a place in the Dreaming I cannot penetrate.”

Ollie, undeterred by the mad King’s words, rises to his challenge. “You won't take her away – I won't let you. She clearly doesn't want to go with you, so you leave her alone.”

Don’t anger him any further, you want to say, but you seem to have lost the capacity to speak.

The Ruler of Nightmares scoffs, an icy sneer forming at the corner of his lips. “Your hypocrisy astounds me, doctor. Were you not the one who bound her to you and manipulated her against her wishes? The dreamcatcher, that pathetic human magic is proof of that.”

“I don't deny your accusations, but I have never manipulated her feelings. Her love is real, I know that now, and so is mine. I won't let you take that away from us!”

“Ollie, no…” your warning comes out barely a whisper.

He either does not hear it, or he chooses to ignore it, continuing his tirade against your creator.

“And what about you?” he points an accusing finger at him, outraged on your behalf. “What right do you think you have to order her around and make her do shit against her will? You think you’re God?”

But the Lord of Dreams just lets out a mirthless, sinister laugh – one that sends chilling shockwaves down your body. “I am more than a God: I am an Endless, and one that can unleash terrors you dare not speak of, so watch your tongue. Or should I send a nightmare to cut it out for you?” he tauntingly asks, his sand threateningly circling his raised palm.

Oliver just refuses to back down. Instead, he takes a step forward, goading him on. You grab his arms in an attempt to hold him back. “Just because you have the power, does not mean you can give life to somebody –”

“Oliver, don’t –!”

“ – And hold their autonomy against them, you sick, twisted fuck!”

“Enough!” Dream thunders, the intensity of his outburst making the floor beneath you quake momentarily. “I have had it with you foolish humans trapping beings beyond your comprehension, all for the sake of your selfish, paltry desires. I will not let you, a mere mortal, covet what is mine any longer.”

Before your eyes, your King, surrounded with black smoke manifesting his uncontrollable rage, raises a trembling hand. His sand swirls with growing speed around him, getting ready to strike. He’s going to hurt Ollie.

“My Lord, no, please, please don't hurt him...” you find the courage to step in between your lord and the man you love. You’re not about to let him hurt Ollie, and so, with your palms clasped right in front of you in prayer, you beg. “I'm the one at fault, so please punish me instead –”

“Mera no –”

“Mera, my little dream,” the Dream King’s attention turns towards you. He lowers his hand, his voice softening by a fraction as he addresses you. “How you disappoint me. You lied to me. You threw away a hundred years’ worth of devotion to me, all for this mortal? By loving him, you have betrayed me, defied my will, and abandoned your role in the Dreaming, yet you still protect the very man who led you astray.

“I shall give you this choice, then: you will give me that dreamcatcher or I will be forced to give your beloved doctor what he so foolishly seeks - an eternal sleep, where he could dream all he wants without waking - forever.”

Your head slowly shakes in disbelief. Ollie would suffer in perpetual sleep, haunted by nightmares he formed, and all because you had dared fall in love with him. Was that such a sin in his eyes?

“Please my Lord, you don’t have to do this…”

“My dream, you brought this on yourself. Tell me now, before I think of a greater punishment. What will you choose?”

You bite your lip in distress, eventually tasting blood. Your Lord always keeps his word. And like he always has done; he now has you against the wall. You were always his prey, running off into a trap he had set – and he, the predator, circling you, drawing out your suffering. And now, if you don’t let him pounce, he’d hone in on another victim. It’s either you or Ollie.

As sick as it sounds, for you, it’s an easy choice to make.

Your hesitation seems to give it away for Ollie. He takes a hold of you by the arms, turning you to face him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

“Mera, don't give it to him. Mera, look at me.” He cups your face so he could look into you. “I don't care if he makes me sleep forever. We'll be together, then! It'll be just us, in here, don't you want that?”

Oh, sweet, sweet Ollie. Fresh tears start rolling down your cheeks, and he makes a move to wipe them away, but with your free hand, you lower them.

“I want all your dreams to come true, Ollie.”

A smile starts to form on his face, but you cut him off.

“So make them come true, in the waking world –”

“No Mera –”

“They need you there. You'll do great things –”

“No! Mera, don't do this –”

“Please listen to me –”

“I won't let you – !”

“Please, my dear Ollie!” you desperately beg, placing your palm on his cheeks. You put on a reassuring smile to try and persuade him to save himself, but you're breaking on the inside and you could feel it. “Do it for me. You are meant to chase your dreams, so do it in the Waking World.” Better you hurt than he.

You peer into your beloved doctor's face. You see nothing in it but love, sorrow, and acceptance of your doomed fate. You hate that resignation in his eyes, but you look into them, nonetheless. In your mind, he’ll always have that cheeky smile and that bright spark, just like he did when he first started talking about his passion to help people dream better. You’ll always have that look, and him, in your heart. At that moment, both of you get lost in each other, even for a few final seconds.

"Go live the life you’ve always dreamed of – for me," you whisper. "And I'll be happy and content just knowing that you did."

Slowly, you let go of your doctor's face, but he takes your hands in his, kissing your palms, desperate for more contact.

"Mera, I love you. Please..."

"And I love you, Oliver Chapman; in the Dreaming, in the Waking, and in everywhere else in between."

You feel your world coming apart when you finally let go of him. With one final choked sob, you turn to face your Maker; the Endless whose unforgiving glare was enough to pin you to place. You could tell by his look that the display of your affections deeply repulsed him. You cling onto the dreamcatcher for comfort with trembling fingers. All you want to do is to curl up in a ball at how his pitch-black, pitiless eyes bore into yours, but you swallow back your fear. Ollie had shown immense courage for your sake – he deserved the same from you.

The Dream Lord, obviously growing more impatient by the minute, walks to you intimidatingly, his smoky coattail trialing him behind him. He yanks the dreamcatcher from your shaky grip with so much force he breaks a few of its strings. He spares one brief look of angered disgust at the insulting object before looking into your eyes and crushing the dreamcatcher with his bare hands. Not once did he look away from you as the totem, a symbol of your slight against him, turns dust in his powerful fist.

Your heart clenches in pain, almost as if it was your heart your creator just crushed. Anguish washing over you, you collapse on the floor and clutch your chest, letting out a silent scream you try to hide from Ollie. The Endless, unmoved at the pitiful scene unfolding before him, strides purposefully over to Ollie with his pouch of sand in his hands. Panic immediately engulfs you, and you get to your feet, staggering toward them.

"My Lord, please, I did what you asked of me..."

Your words do not deter your creator, who promptly blows sand in your Ollie's face. The sleep doctor vanishes in a flurry of sand, gone forever.

"NO! OLIVER!"

What has he done? You double over in your grief, already fearing the worst.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him…”

"I did not."

Morpheus turns to look at your quivering form hunched on the floor, face as stony as ever.

"I merely sent him back to the waking world."

But his words offer you no relief.

"He will, however, have no memory of you, of your time spent together, nor of his love," he continues with a snarl, "...for you. You are now, to him, a fleeting, fading recollection, a mere dream he had which he will forget at the first few moments of his waking hours. Nothing more, as it should be."

Your eyes, already blurry with the tears you shed at your beloved's parting, grow wide at this revelation – the King of Nightmares, living up to his title, yet you know you had barely seen his true form. There seem to be no other words you can place for what he has done.

"You're heartless." It comes out barely a whisper, yet your master hears your words clearly. He seems to be unaffected by them.

"No. I could have punished you, cast you to the darkness for openly lying, attempting to leave my Realm, and abandoning your King and master. Yet I have not, for I acknowledge that you had no hand in your capture."

Gathering all the strength you could muster, you stand to your full height. "I'd have rather you cast me to the darkness, my King. I no longer have a purpose or a reason to live. You already took him from me."

He takes an intimidating step forward, invading your personal space like he always does. With your master's face a few inches away from yours, you look away, wishing his callousness was directed at anything but you. He harshly lifts your chin with his forefinger and thumb.

He speaks, his voice slightly shaking with barely controlled rage, "Is this what it feels like to you, my Mera? Have you truly any idea what it is like to feel aimless, without purpose? Perhaps I can give you a taste."

You swallow the bile forming in your throat at the threat, but you could no longer bring yourself to care about what he can do to you. He has done the worst possible thing you can imagine.

"I hereby strip you of all your Dreaming powers. You shall be kept locked in your chambers, without any contact from outside.”

With this declaration, he uses his sand to transport you both to the prison cell he calls ‘your room.’ In the blink of an eye and a swirl of sand, you appear in your quarters, expecting the natural sunlight streaming from the windows to almost blind you, but the warmth does not come. Instead, you’re enveloped in the dim light source that is the starry ceiling above; the windows and the balcony are gone, replaced by nothing but solid walls, effectively holding you in your own, personal insane asylum.

"Here, you shall spend your time in isolation, contemplating your transgressions, your betrayal against the Dreaming and against me.” His scathing voice echoes around the dimly-lit room. "Call upon my name when you are ready to fulfill your purpose to me. Only then will I free you from this place and forgive you of all your offenses. Be warned, my Mera - Endless as I am, my patience is not."

And with that thinly veiled threat, he vanishes, leaving no trace of his presence, save a trail of sand falling to the carpet, leaving you alone in deafening silence.

Just as you start getting used to the quiet lull of your surroundings, you hear a piercing, tortured wail bouncing off the walls. Gasping for air and clutching your throat in pain, you barely recognize your own unearthly screaming. You collapse on the bed in renewed sobbing, wishing that your Dream Lord had indeed been ruthless enough to spare you the torment and just banished you to inexistence.

Ollie had gone to the Waking World and had forgotten about you. The only thing left in you are memories of him, ad in your solitary confinement, nothing stopped you from reliving them; every snarky comment he ever made, every bawdy joke he ever told, every fleeting touch you shared with him. It made your loss even more unbearable, but what else could you do but stew in them? His was the only memory you had worth recalling in your existence, yet he had none of yours. It was the spiteful King’s idea of retribution meant to wash away your sins.

***

You spend the next three days in absolute misery. Refusing to get out of bed, you stay curled up in a ball, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, warming you but never comforting you in your heartbreak.

He materializes in a spinning whirl of sand inside your bedchambers. It’s a pure display of power at this point, for he hadn’t removed the door to your room, even if he had it locked. You kind of half-expected him to close the distance at once, kissing you in greeting like he always did. Instead, he just stands there, intensifying the already-gloomy atmosphere in the room. Out of habit, you get up and bow your head slightly, even if you were still in your nightdress.

Languidly, he makes his way to you, pausing until he’s an arm’s length away, looking down on you with a reproachful look.

“You have not called upon me for forgiveness.”

You flinch the moment he raises his hand – only for him to lift your chin so you had no other choice except to look at him.

You give him the blankest of looks, unsure how to respond.

“The sooner you accept your fate, the sooner I can end your confinement. So, I will ask you again, my little dream,” he says in a low voice, leaning downwards so his face is but a hairbreadth away from yours. “Will you carry out your duty?”

Your response is barely a whisper, fanning the hair framing his forehead.

“I cannot possibly do what you’re asking me, my King. I am only a dream, so why me? Why make me suffer so for it?”

“You are more than a dream to me, my Mera. Out of all my creations, I treasure you, love you the most.” For a moment, his expression changes, but that tenderness in his gaze is gone in a flash. “Which is why, out of all the treason my subjects have committed, yours was the most painful. It is within my right as your King to pass judgment. And yet, it is within your power to end your penance.”

He whispers, “You need only do one thing.”

At the end of his last sentence, he angles his head – your noses touch, but he doesn’t press his lips on yours like you expected him to.

“Seek my pardon, and I can make it go away.” He whispers against your lips.

But if you do, it would mean admitting that Ollie was a mistake.

“No. My love for Ollie is no sin. I have nothing to ask for forgiveness for.”

You don’t regret your words, even as your master grabs the back of your neck forcefully to pull you closer to him, making your noses touch.

“You dare speak his name in my presence…” he hisses.

Closing your eyes, you feel his lips ravish yours in a vicious kiss, seeking to possess – in its force you’re pushed back into one of the bedposts. His unforgiving grip on your jaw forces your mouth open, coercing you to kiss him back. He abruptly pulls his head back when he feels a wetness on your cheeks.

Tears.

Despite the salty discharge, you stare at him with defiance.

“You still love that worthless mortal,” he concludes with a faint amount of sick amusement. “I have not decided the form of judgment I should pass on him. Should you prolong this further, it would give me more time to create potent nightmares tailored to his fears.”

He seems to relish the way your lips tremble in terror. The thought of Ollie getting nightmares especially made for him makes your empty stomach churn.

“Or shall I remake the Corinthian and send him to plague your mortal alone? He was and still is, my perfect nightmare. The both of you, my errant creations, so perfect in every way, yet so flawed…Renounce your love for the human now, and I shall be merciful.”

But he doesn’t see you fervently shake your head, for he closes in on your throat, planting wet, open-mouthed caresses on your skin. You make a move to push him away on his shoulder, but he grabs your wrist harshly and pins them above your head on the bedpost. It was no use struggling against him in his firm hold, so you close your eyes, imagining you were somewhere else, as you feel his free hand roaming your still-clothed form, desperate to feel your warmth. As his tongue lavishes your pulse point, you let out an involuntary moan.

“Ollie…”

By the time you realize your grave error, your Dream Lord has already pulled back, tugging on your hair with enough force to make you gasp in pain.

He looks at you with a dark, displeased expression, seething in anger. “I have tried being patient with you, my dream, but you truly test me.”

“My Lord, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –”

Your frantic apologies are drowned out by a maelstrom of sand engulfing the both of you. As you feel the sand disappear, you hear the loud rumble of thunder, followed by the thrashing of waves of an ocean in a raging storm.

You open your eyes to a different room. Your master had transported you somewhere else, but where it was is unclear – the room, however, looks to be inside an old castle. You can see the exposed stone bricks in its interior; against its closed, murky windows the rain outside pelted hard, offering you a view outside: deep, gray skies that littered with flashes of lightning, and a sea that tossed violently against the harsh winds. You’re now far from the Dreaming palace, you know that much. He had taken you here to isolate you even further.

The King before you places a firm hand on your shoulder, forcing you to sit on something soft – a huge bed covered in sheets of silk in the colour of his long coat, which you notice had already fallen to the floor. You pointedly avoid looking at him, your face turned to the side, fidgeting with the sheet. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see him shed his shoes, followed by his shirt. Suddenly, your breathing becomes more laboured, and you could hear your own pounding heartbeat despite the furious storm outside.

“My Lord, where have you taken me?” you start softly, attempting to distract him.

“Where we shall not be disturbed,” he says simply.

It’s when you hear him undo his belt that you make a last-ditch attempt to save yourself evade him and jump to the side of the bed to get as far away from him as you can.

It’s a futile move – you find yourself lying on your stomach, your right arm awkwardly buried underneath your body, and a taut, heavy, naked chest pressed against your back.

Your Dream Lord has you pinned beneath him, his thighs straddling your waist.

“No!” you cry out in distress; it’s the only thing you could do against the impregnable force pinning you to the bed without any wriggle room. You could feel his hot breath fanning the back of your neck. In response, he whispers over your ear:

“I grow tired of your refusal, dream of mine. You will carry out your duty to me tonight.”

“No, my Lord, please, please, I beg of you…”

But your fraught whimpers fall on deaf ears.

You feel a hot, wet kiss on your exposed shoulder, while a lazy finger traces your spine. To your horror, you only notice that your nightdress has disappeared when trails of sand enter your line of vision, before promptly vanishing into thin air. You’re completely bare under his gaze, and like a starved man, he feasts – his hot mouth starts leaving butterfly kisses on your upper back as he strokes the sides of your waist, while you lay below him, sobbing in earnest and unable to move.

“Please, no, please, no, no…My Lord, please…”

“You will not deny your King,” he growls against your back, gripping your waist tight. “For every ‘no’ I hear from you during our union, I will create a ferocious nightmare that will follow only your pathetic human until his end of days. Will you be responsible for the madness he will surely turn to?”

Still weeping piteously, your closed eyes flash vivid images of Ollie thrashing in his bed, screaming in his sleep at horrors only he could see.

For the last time, it seems, your Dream Lord had you effectively backed into a corner with no chance of escaping. The predator had grown weary of circling its prey and had now pounced, ready to devour.

***********************************************

Author notes on the Chapter:

Ollie and Dream's confrontation is the most challenging dialogue I have ever written. Next chap with will be full of smut, smut smut, so be prepared!! (I need to be, too, it seems - writing smut can be intimidating af lmao)

As usual, thank you for sticking with me in this!! Love lots!!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby@endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 12/26/22

Edit date: 12/26/22

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsetsts

@izziclee

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@sarahbullet235

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@ggxsan

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

.

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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I'm working on a new piece! I suppose it will come out this weekend.

I tried to make it extra fluffy, but i'm way too goth for that lol.

Feel free to request, btw!

(i don't write smut. Anything else is game on)

- Be me

*writes a fic*

- Is confident!

*Reads it again*

- "Wow, that's a bunch of garbage"

*Deletes the whole thing*

the (already) humiliated ones were humiliated again.

Prompt idea (i guess)

Dream x Nymph!Reader

Dream falling in love with a Nymph who inhabits the deep waters of the Dreaming and they have this beautifully poetic relationship...

"If I could, my dear man, I would lay forever with you in the arms of the sea"

If someone wanna take it and write something, be my guest!

To give you another suggestion of the vibe I have in mind, listen to this: