#Morpheus' lamp stand

[fortunaestalta]

[swanimagines]

SLEEP THIEF | MORPHEUS

Summary: You, being plagued by a sleep thief called insomnia, managed to free Dream a few months back. Now he wants to pay you back by finding a cure for your insomnia - and maybe because he has developed feelings for you.

Once, in the realm of dreams, where reality bends and imagination takes shape, Dream of the Endless found himself trying to help a mortal, who suffered from a condition that prevented her to visit his kingdom.

Insomnia. That relentless thief of sleep that plagued your every night. Despite always being tired, having eyebags and looking old beyond your years, you were always kind to Dream. Somehow you had sensed he was a vital part in the world, and in little, tiny gestures over two years, you helped him with every way you could. “Accidentally” swiping your feet over the summoning ring. Guards hadn’t slept well, so they fell to sleep after drinking your special tea. Little things - and eventually, your constant, diligent effort was worth it and Dream got himself out. You didn’t know what had been the thing that made the trick, but his glass prison was shattered and the guards didn’t remember much - it was concluded the summoning ring had weakened over time and Dream could finally push through it.

You got fired from the mansion with the rest of the workers after Mr. Burgess was cursed with eternal nightmares and your services weren’t needed anymore - and within the first week of you tossing and turning in the bedroom of your new apartment, you got a visitor - startled by a man with glowing eyes standing in the corner of the room, almost letting out a scream before you recognised him and turned on your bedside lamp with a smile.

“Dream? Is it… really you? I thought you were gone, that I would never see you again,” you mumbled, beaming as you sat up properly. “I… I knew you got out, but I thought you’d be busy to get the world rolling again.”

Dream smiled softly, taking a step towards you. Then he spoke, with a deep voice - to be honest, you hadn’t expected him to sound like that. “Yes, it is I. I have returned to express my gratitude for the compassion and help you offered me when I needed it the most. The world is on its track again, and you are to thank for that.”

You smiled back bashfully, looking at your hands fiddling with your blanket. “It was a human thing to do. I knew your captivity was a reason why the world was messed up. I’m happy you popped by, it’s good to see you’re alright.”

Dream was quiet for a moment, studying you. Then he spoke again. “I wish to grant you the gift of sleep. You have suffered from the lack of it for so long, and a mortal like you does not deserve such a fate. It is not caused by my absence, but I want to help you with it.”

You frowned, looking up to him. “I’ve always had it. Sleeping pills help somewhat, but even they might not let me sleep throughout the whole night. Are you sure that- I mean, I know you can do it, you’re the king of dreams, after all. But are you sure your help will last? I read it may originate from the way brains are built, and I don’t know if you’re able to change it. You can’t have time to guard my sleep every night, can you?”

Dream was quiet for a moment. “I will do everything I can in my power to ensure you will be able to sleep your nights without struggle. For tonight, my sand will have to do.”

And with that, he took out his pouch and you, knowing what he was about to do, settled under your covers. You looked at Dream as he placed the sand on the palm of his hand and the last thing you saw was him blowing the powder-like sand on your face, and you fell asleep on that very moment.

—

“Are you sure about this, Dream?” Matthew asked as he flew by his master, settling onto one of the many chairs in the library. “Humans and Endless rarely mix well. You know it could be dangerous. The potential consquences could be destructive.”

Dream didn’t even look up to his companion as he read one of the many books he owned. “She showed me kindness during my captivity. It is time for me to repay that debt.”

Matthew was quiet and used the time to ponder his next words to groom himself. Then he tilted his head, studying his friend. “Are you planning to act on your feelings?”

Dream paused for a moment, tapping his fingers on the cover of the book. Then he finally looked up to his friend. “I understand your concerns, Matthew. But should we deny ourselves happiness only because the risk of heartbreak it may involve?”

Matthew sighed. “I suppose not.”

Lucienne emerged from behind the corner. “Your devotion for her is undeniable. And your wish to help her through her condition is noble - but remember the consequences what could happen if she starts to dwell in dreams and forget to live. You may get blindsided about what will lie ahead if you let your feelings overwhelm your senses.”

“I am aware, Lucienne,” Dream said, lowering his eyes back down and tracing his finger across the page of the book. “I do not know if she feels the same way. It may be she does not return my feelings for her.”

Matthew and Lucienne exchanged a glance, before the librarian handed a book to Dream. “I believe this book will help with her condition. Just… be careful, my lord.”

Dream’s eyes flickered up again, and he nodded slightly. “Thank you, Lucienne.”

And so, Matthew and Lucienne left Dream alone - he would find a cure for you, let you visit his Kingdom. And even if it would never be anything more than friendship, Dream would enjoy having you around in his Kingdom every night, walking with you through the field and listen to you telling about your day. 

It had been a while since he had had a mortal human friend - Hob being immortal - but he had a feeling that you could be one of his greatest friends who have ever lived.

---

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[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: J for Joyride

Summary: You meet an absolute dream boat after coming out of the theaters with your friends. He promises you the ride of your life.

Notes: ~ 1.6k words, best read if listening to Joyride by Kesha tbh, I don't know how the positioning works but I just make it work ok, it's diabolical

Warnings/Tags: MDNI - 18+, Biker!Dream x Fem!Reader, unprotected sex on said bike, while going at dangerous speeds down the highway, fingering, p in v, cummies!, use of pet name (princess)

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Every decade or so, Morpheus loves to visit the waking world to see what the mortals are up to. The 80s are starting to look promising and he watches with a careful eye as a group of young college students come barging out of the cinema with half-eaten bags of popcorn and giggles tumbling out of their mouths. 

You should have known better, just looking at him from across the theater parking lot would’ve told you that he was trouble. His fresh leather jacket, the large sleek beauty of a motorcycle, and the way he drew the smoke out of that cigarette were everything you needed to know. 

But sweet, naive, little you. Daddy’s good girl and high school valedictorian turned perfect college student. But every good girl needs a release, an adrenaline rush to feel something, and against the betterment of your judgment you find yourself in front of him. 

“Want a ride?” Morpheus asks as you basically skip over to him. 

“I love joyrides,” you say with a suppressed smile. 

You don’t bother to wait for his response, already finding yourself straddling the front seat of his ride. Your shorter-than-appropriate skirt flares around your thighs as you part your legs, something that Morpheus eyes with a knowing smile. 

His warmth encompasses your back as he straddles in behind you. The smell of nicotine envelopes your senses and you’re left dizzy. Morpheus revs the engine once and the bike comes to life underneath you. You watch as your mystery rider flicks the burnt-out nicotine stick to some unknown shadow in the parking lot before kicking the stand that parked the bike. 

His arms come around you as he grabs onto the handles and before you can blink, you’re already out of the theater parking lot and onto the open road.

A thrilled squeal leaves your lips as the wind caresses every strand of your hair, the chill filling your clothes and lifting your skirt as you leave your worries behind you. Morpheus chuckles slowly in your ear as he turns onto the interstate. 

The late night leaves the two of you alone on the interstate, the only thing between you and eternal darkness is the occasional old street lamp. The faster the bike goes, the further you slide against Morpheus’ front, the loud hum of the bike shaking your core unintentionally making you wet. Your teeth sink into your lips as you realize the buzzing sensation was slowly starting to turn you on and the adrenaline certainly didn’t help. 

But Morpheus knew.

He feels the way your body starts to pant against him and your head falls back against his shoulder as your eyes roll to the back of your head. He lowers his head, pressing his lips to your ear and exhales hotly. He can see his breath for a moment in the cold weather before it’s quickly whisked away at high speeds. More importantly, he can see the goosebumps that rise over your neck and exposed chest when he does so. 

“You like joyrides?” He asks slowly in your ear, repeating what you said to him earlier in the night. 

You nod against his chest and he chuckles again. Like a mist over a morning horizon, you feel one of his hands ghost over the curve of your hips and he groans as he feels his cock begin to harden against the plumpness of your ass. 

You squirm in your seat, having nowhere else to go other than forward, but why would you do that when it was so cold going 90 on the interstate? You feel his hands grip tighter on your hips and they follow the natural path down your thighs to your pulsing heat, completely ignoring your skirt. 

“I’ll give you a good time tonight,” Morpheus promises in your ear, his fingers toy at the seams of your underwear. “Want that, princess?”

“Oh, my god, yes,” you practically moan out to him. 

The first run of his fingers between your walls has you gasping. He loops his finger around your clit ever so gently, just enough for you to grab onto his wrist in a silent plea, but nothing more. Morpheus revels in the way you try to take control, how you try to move his fingers in the way you need him, but he never lets you. 

His fingers tease at your arousal and presses two fingers against you, feeling the way you try to clench around him without his fingers in you. Your arousal was drenching his fingers in a thick slickness as he pressed his palm onto your clit. 

“F-fuck…” You whine, jerking your hips forward to chase the fleeting moment. 

“Such dirty words,” Morpheus scolds but they fall on deaf ears. 

He palms at you again, and when he decides that he needs to feel you clench around him does he inserts his fingers. The first one went in easily, your body practically sucking it into your greedy cunt. He groans into your ears, a low reverting sound that can barely be heard over the roar of the engine. 

Morpheus gives a few experimental pumps before he uses your wetness to add another one of his fingers. Your nails dig into his wrist, imprinting angry, red, crescent shapes into his skin but neither of you gave a shit. His fingers spread you apart with the intention of fitting something much larger later. 

You're losing yourself to the pleasure in how he pumps his fingers in you, the promise of his cock is close as you feel his hardness pressing into your lower back. Morpheus’ fingers curl in a way that has your moans echo across the interstate. 

Morpheus watches closely as your pleasure starts to overtake you, pushing the bike harder across the road as your cunt begins to grip his fingers with a vice. Just before it consumes you, he takes out his fingers, the digits drying immediately in the high winds. 

“What is wrong with you?!” You turn your head when you realize that he denied you your orgasm. 

“Your pretty little cunt is going to cum on this dick before it cums on anything else. Got that, princess?” He asks in a low growl. 

Morpheus gives a sly smile when you nod at him with wide eyes. His hands leave you to unbutton his pants, unzipping himself out of the shrinking confinement of his jeans. Under his instructions, he guides you carefully so that you are turned towards him. 

Your heart is in your throat as the bike doesn’t slow, but you manage to swivel in the limited space until you’re chest to chest with him. Your legs dangle over his thighs as he leans closer to you. Morpheus invades your space like a ghost, the smell of nicotine follows him wherever he goes. 

When he smashes his lips onto you, you can taste the addiction hot and heavy on his tongue. Your hands grab at his leather jacket, knuckles turning white as he pushes you down onto your back. You’re sure you’re going to fall and your future is going to look like nothing except road kill. But, Morpheus holds onto you, he’s determined to keep the bike upright while giving you the ride of your life. 

He slips into you easily, your only indication a sharp gasp as you throw your head back and come in contact with the fuel tank. Your legs wrap around his slim waist and you give an experimental roll of your hips.  

Morpheus watches from above you as you fuck yourself on him, your mouth agape and gasping, your hair a beautiful mess in the wind. His hands roam between the valley of your breasts, feeling your heartbeat’s erratic pumping as you moan out in ecstasy. Your back arches higher and higher as you use him to chase your own pleasure. 

The engine revs harder as he feels your sopping cunt clench around his cock, a gritted groan leaves him and he shuts his eyes to regain what little composure he had left. 

You’re back at grabbing at him, wanting to taste him on your tongue again and he happily obliges. Morpheus moves his hips subtly to meet your desperate humps.

“Please?” You ask when you pull away for a moment. 

“Yeah, princess, whatever you want,” He agrees before his lips are on yours again. 

Morpheus’ hands are back on you again, his palm cupping around a perk nipple that has you smiling into the sloppy makeout session. And when you pull away to take a breath, he doesn’t have the will to leave your skin.

He continues as far as he can, leaving bite marks down the center of your neck, inhaling the dizzying scent of your perfume and movie theater popcorn. 

“I said, please,” You repeat, gasping and needy. 

“I heard you,” he says in that low voice of his. 

His hands once again travel down until his finger is tapping impatiently on your engorged clit. A whine from your lips was all it took for him to press down on the nerve, circling it slowly in tandem with the movement of your hips. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your mouth agape again with nothing but whimpers and prayers on your lips. The heat warms your body and the cold is long forgotten, the sensation of unearthly pleasure easy to lose yourself in. 

Your orgasm comes slowly, shimmering just below the surface before it becomes a raging boil of ecstasy.

“Please, please, please. I’m gunna—” With gasping breath, you pussy clenches and spasms around his cock as you unravel yourself on his bike. Morpheus slams his mouth over yours again, wanting to taste your orgasmic moans on his tongue. His own orgasm follows soon after, the slickness of your release enough to push him over the edge. 

You’re a hundred miles away from your home, and it’s with a daunting realization that you just let a stranger cum in you.

Your dad’s going to be pissed. 

Wasn't that beautiful, I thought it was beautiful. What's that? How did Dream drive and have a heavy make-out session while driving?

... ... ... ... Go stand in the corner and don't ask plot hole related questions.

Also, I want to say that Dream stood in front of a mirror and applied/smudged eyeliner before going to the waking world, maybe accidentally stabbing himself in the eye with the pencil or something idk.

Thanks for reading and your support as always!

♡ Yours, Layla

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[stevesbestgirl]

Dreamweaver

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, a few curses, briefly mean!Morpheus, soulmate tattoo bs, I took liberties with the lore

A/N: I started this forever ago when I was dealing with some stuff with my brother, so if it feels like a self-insert 🤷‍♀️ (no descriptions of reader's appearance)

5775 words

"Dream."

Lord Morpheus, also known as Dream of the Endless, raised his head from his desk, where he was pouring over a book.

"Dream!"

He heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before standing.

"Dream of the Endless, I hold your sigil and I call to you."

"Yes Death, I am on my way to my gallery as we speak."

"Forget your gallery, come here."

Morpheus suppressed a sigh. But with a sound suspiciously like the flutter of a raven's feathers, Dream disappeared from his library, appearing instead beside his sister. Death's gaze did not waver; she appeared to be watching a young pair seated on a mattress on the floor of a simple bedroom. One, a young woman, seemed to be comforting the other, a young man with enough resemblance to be a sibling.

Dream spared only a quick glance, "Why am I here, sister?"

Death finally tore her gaze from the two mortals, "Can't you see it?"

Morpheus watched the pair again, unsure of what he was supposed to be seeing.

"Maybe I'm just bad. That's why she left." Dream could see the wisps of despair puffing up around the boy, evaporating like drops of water on a hot pan.

"You took the fall when I broke Mallory's lamp when we were ten. Don't tell me you're bad," the woman insisted despite her soft tone. "And nothing you did made Bella leave."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Dream's gaze swiveled back to his sister, "I am unsure what it is I should be seeing."

Death huffed impatiently, "Open your mind for just one moment and consider that a mortal may surprise you." When he still stared at her, his jaw growing tight with impatience, she rolled her eyes, "She's dream weaving, Dream. You of all people should be able to tell."

"The dream weavers died out hundreds of years ago."

Death grabbed her stubborn brother by the shoulder, twisting him to face the girl again, "Watch."

Dream watched, albeit a bit disdainful, as the young woman continued to speak. She offered musings about their past. Their childhood seemed to have been a difficult one. But she made jokes, reminiscing and reflecting on what they could learn- how they could create better for themselves. And then he saw it.

Human consciousness, all consciousness really, clung to the Dreaming with tethers. Needless to say, humans clung particularly closely compared to most other sentient life. Each dream, though they varied in strength, was a connection to the dreaming. When a being began to lose the will to live, those tethers weakened.

Her brother's tethers were weak; not quite on the brink of severing, but looking rather exhausted. And while it wasn't possible for her to strengthen the tethers- only their owner could do that, she was reinforcing their connection to the Dreaming. The dreams she was sharing were indeed woven into an intricate web, right on the cusp of his realm.

Her own web was vast, ethereal silver glimmering in elaborate knots and designs, each one a waking dream. This girl's very existence was tied up in his realm.

His only show of emotion was a small parting of his lips, but that was enough for Death. "I told you so."

Dream said nothing, watching the girl speak.

"What are you thinking, brother?" Death prompted, clearly awaiting some kind of response.

"It appears that a new age of Dreamweavers may be upon us, sister."

"Are you going to speak to her?"

"I suppose I am duty-bound to make contact. Soon, more like her will appear, if they haven't already. If they go on unsupervised, they could damage the realm."

Death cocked an eyebrow, "Why do you sound so reluctant? You've never had issue with dream weavers in the past, have you?"

"Not yet. But I have an odd feeling about this one."

*

After departing with Death, Morpheus tasked Matthew with keeping an eye on the girl. She stayed with her brother through the night, the pair of them departing early in the morning and returning a short while later with what appeared to be a third sibling.

Only once the two young men were in each other's company did the girl leave, returning to her own home a short distance away.

She seemed lost in her own thoughts as she puttered around the house, cleaning up odds and ends before changing into a tee-shirt and climbing into bed. Underneath her eyes, dark circles were beginning to swell. She was exhausted.

Morpheus almost felt bad for her; this sleep would not be as restful as she might be expecting.

*

Y/N always had vivid dreams, both waking and while asleep. But she immediately knew tonight was different. Dressed in nothing but her tee-shirt and underwear, her bare feet were chilled against the dark stone floor underfoot.

A shadowed figure sat in a throne at the head of the large room, as though waiting for her.

"Hello?" She took a hesitant step forward, hands clinging to the too-short hem of her tee-shirt, which was barely covering the tops of her thighs.

"Approach, Y/L, L/N."

She did as the voice instructed, stepping forward on unsteady legs. It was male, authoritative and nearly stern. But it wasn't aggressive, or even raised in volume. He simply spoke and expected compliance.

It was also beautiful, deeply toned and unrushed in its delivery. He had an accent she couldn't identify, her mind reeling with thoughts as she approached the throne, still cloaked in shadow.

She felt exposed, painfully aware of his gaze on her. She gave her shirt another nervous tug down, trying to make sure she was covered. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she asked, "What is this place?"

The silence stretched, her fingers abandoning the hem of her shirt in favor of fidgeting with the cuticles of her fingernails. But her hands parted hastily and she sucked in a gasp as she suddenly found herself fully clothed in a pair of dark jeans, socks, boots, and a black jacket over her tee-shirt.

She was relieved for both the privacy and warmth granted by the clothes, but her heart was pounding at the magic, "Am I dreaming?"

The figure remained in shadow, "Yes," he confirmed. "But more importantly, you are in the Dreaming."

She blinked, willing her eyes to make out the figure in the dark as questions bubbled up inside her, "And that would make you-?"

He rose slowly from his chair, towering over her at his full height, somehow still shrouded in shadow, "I am Dream of the Endless, creator of the Dreaming, King of Nightmares."

It suddenly became quite clear to her as she gazed up at him that he wanted her to be intimidated. The question of why still loomed.

"King of Dreams then too, right?" She couldn't find it within herself to give him the reaction he wanted, king or no king.

His voice remained level, "Yes."

"Am I forbidden from laying eyes on the King of Dreams?" She cocked her eyebrow, only slightly, in a challenge. She took a step backwards, inviting him to step into the light.

There was another long pause before he answered, "No, you are not." But instead of moving, the shadows seemed to loosen, pale skin blooming behind the darkness until his face was wholly visible.

It seemed the perfect match for his voice, slim with sharp cheekbones and a shock of deep ebony hair. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes, which were dark, almost entirely black in a way that should have been eerie. But they glimmered like stars, little specks of light dancing deep within their depths and seeming to invite her inside. She felt as though she was falling forward until the darkness swallowed her up.

But inside was far from dark. It was a massive stretch of blackness, yes, but far from nothing. The black was a canvas, swirling with color and light and looking like entire galaxies.

A mess of incoherent thought washed over her, driving her own thoughts from her mind. The galaxy showed her a beautiful woman. She felt insecurity, fear, but also something warm and safe she could only describe as love. Then she saw the sun, but the sun as she'd never seen it before. The sun through the eyes of someone who couldn't go blind. And then came pain, rejection, grief-

"You should not be here."

Then she was back in the throne room, balled up on the floor, her cheeks wet with tears. She sat up, hastily wiping her cheeks, but Dream was already hauling her up by the shoulder of her tee-shirt, her extra layer of clothing stripped away in an instant, "You dare to invade my mind?" His dulcet tones were reduced to a mere hiss. "As the King of Dreams, it is my responsibility to warn you that if you or others like you meddle in the affairs of my realm, it will cost you dearly. It seems that every time I show compassion to a human, you are determined to make me regret it. Cross my path again and you will not receive such mercy a second time."

She wanted to plead with him, to make him understand that it had been an accident. She didn't even understand what she'd done- were those his thoughts?

His change in demeanor stung more than it should have. But his sudden rage combined with what little she'd seen made it clear he would not leave himself vulnerable to her, and perhaps for good reason.

"I apologize for any offense, it was not my intent. I will do my best not to get in your way again." She offered him a sad smile, "And I'm sorry for your suffering."

His eyes glimmered in a brooding smolder and then she found herself jolting awake in her bed, a sheen of sweat glittering on her skin. She made a half-hearted attempt to tell herself it had only been a dream, but there was no denying what she'd seen- what she'd felt.

She felt out of place going back to her everyday life, but her work wouldn't wait for her. And there was plenty left to do for her brother, so she put it behind her, hoping that whatever she had done to draw the King of Dreams' ire was a one-time thing. Their interaction had left a lingering bad taste in her mouth.

She had hoped that her responsibilities would drive the memory from the front of her consciousness, but it continued to creep up on her each time she had a moment to breathe, haunting her rare moments of rest with nightmares. She suspected the King of Nightmares was wholly capable of sentencing her to a lifetime of nighttime terrors, but she wasn't convinced this was his intention. But if she was connected to Dream, as he'd called himself, the only way to fix it would be to visit the Dreaming again.

And now she was thinking about it again. She gave herself a shake; she had another long night ahead of her. So she turned up the music in her car and left for her brother's apartment.

*

"I thought I might see you back here, brother." Death looked smug as Dream appeared beside her in the same place they'd watched from last time.

"And why are you here again, Death?"

"To catch you in the act, obviously."

Dream made a disapproving noise at her joke, but didn't press further. He watched as she and her brother played a video game together. He'd done some reading in her book after her uninvited foray into his mind, though mostly out of spite. It had done nothing to reassure him that he'd acted appropriately.

Her childhood had not been an easy one. Teenage parents, poverty, and drug use had rendered her functional guardian to her two younger siblings at a young age. Once he arrived at the abuse resulting from her first romantic relationship, he'd stopped reading.

The two Endless watched for quite some time before speaking again, but surprisingly to Death, it was Dream who broke the silence. "Why are you truly here, sister?"

"It is part of my responsibilities to check on the humans whose ties grow weak."

"Do you spend this long on every one?"

She huffed a sigh, "No." Stealing a glance at Y/N, she admitted, "When she weaves the dreams, that strengthens the connection, giving a weak tie more time to recover."

Dream tipped his head, "Yes, as you explained last time."

"I'm starting to suspect that the dream she's woven around the center tether may be permanent."

"Is such a thing possible?"

"I don't know. Like you said, this could be a new kind of dream weaver." They both watched her laugh, drawing a laugh from her brother as well. "I wish I could just ask her what she's capable of."

Dream looked back on the way the girl had collapsed in his throne room, realization making his stomach sink, "She is unaware of her abilities."

"As far as I can tell." At Dream's silence, Death glanced at him sharply, "Why do I get the sense that you may have done something foolish?"

Dream was silent, reassessing his interaction with this new information. He'd brought her into his realm, exposed and confused, then put on a show of being intimidating and immediately lost his temper, resorting to threats and expulsion.

He refused to feel shame over actions taken to protect his realm, but he couldn't identify the strange pit that seemed to have opened in his gut. She likely thought him a monster, a nightmare himself instead of their king.

"Dream, what did you do?"

Death's voice broke him from his stupor, though he kept his gaze on the girl, "I brought her to my realm and lost my temper."

Death couldn't suppress an eye roll, but Dream didn't seem to notice, "What was it this time?"

"I suspect one of those new abilities allows her access to memory."

There was a long pause. "She got inside that thick skull of yours?"

Dream broke his gaze to send his sister a scathing look, "Yes."

Death sent her an appraising glance, "She seems to be holding up rather well, all things considered." It was meant to be a joke, but Dream thought the circles under her eyes were damning.

"You are typically far slower to admit you are wrong, so I ask you again, brother, what are you doing here?"

"After my meeting with the girl, I spent an entire evening working on new dreams and nightmares. It was the best work I've done in ages."

Now Death did smirk, "She inspired you then? Is she your latest muse?"

"My days of muses are behind me, sister. Aside from the fact that she is a mortal, my realm needs my full attention."

"Of course, brother."

*

That night, when Y/N fell asleep in her bed, she found herself back in the throne room. Muttering a curse under her breath, she stood, grateful that she'd slept in a pair of shorts this time.

"Approach, Y/N."

She did not obey the voice this time, stubbornly remaining in place and gazing resolutely into the dim light, which was only slightly improved from her first visit.

A moment, then two, passed before there came a sigh. "Very well." Several long strides later the King of Dreams had left his throne to stand before her. She avoided his eyes, afraid to repeat her mistakes.

"Dream King."

"Yes, I suppose I deserve that as well."

Tipping up her chin, she nodded, "You do." She seemed to catch herself, "I'm afraid I'm not sure what I did to end up back here."

"I brought you here- in both instances. You've done nothing wrong, I have realized too late."

She was stunned. She hesitantly met his gaze, relieved when her feet remained planted on the floor.

Dream held his expression steady and nodded, "I apologize for my prior behavior."

She surprised herself by tipping her head, "Thank you." She chewed her lip for a moment, "I'm sorry too. For before. I'm really not sure how I did it."

She knew she didn't have the leverage to flaunt a grudge against the Kind of Dreams. She was pleased with her own politeness, but she would not trust easily.

Dream was silent for a long pause, "What exactly did you see?"

She looked away, "Not much. A woman- a beautiful woman. The sun. And I felt-" His eyes seemed to pull her gaze back in, "I felt some of your pain, I think."

"I apologize."

Her brow furrowed, "For your suffering?"

He shook his head, "For yours, at my hands. We have much to discuss, but you will not struggle with nightmares from tonight on."

The corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a smile, "So, I can rest assured?"

Dream either didn't catch the pun or was ignoring it, nodding, "You may. Now come, have a seat." He led her back toward his throne, where a small tea table and a wooden chair sat on the dais beside his own.

She waited, watching him take his seat on the throne before she sat on the wooden chair, ruefully thinking of her own chair at home. And then it was her chair she was sitting in. No sound or movement accompanied the change, it simply was.

Dream raised an eyebrow, as if challenging the action, "Did you just alter the Dreaming?"

Face flushing with warmth, she stumbled over her words, "Not with intention."

His gaze seemed inquisitive, "Have you always manipulated the Dreaming so skillfully?"

She raised a brow, a reluctant smile forming at the corner of her mouth, "I'm not sure that was a compliment."

"Simply an observation."

"Sounds a bit sinister though, doesn't it? 'Manipulating the Dreaming.'"

"What would you call it if someone were to create their own clay sculpture on a block already used by someone else?" Dream wasn't offended by the action so much as he was curious.

"If it serves a new function, I would call it repurposing," she replied thoughtfully.

There was a long pause, "Indeed." She couldn't decipher his tone. "What if I told you that the person who made the original sculpture also created the clay? And that the only clay that would ever exist was his creations."

She sobered up a little, "I'm sorry if I've ruined your work. Once again, not my intention. I have a lot to learn about your realm."

His gaze trailed over the chair she'd conjured, noting the details. The golden colored thread in the stitching that glinted in the dim light of the throne room. The slight wear to the fabric around the arms. Dreams were often vague, even half-formed, because mortals struggled to shape the Dreaming. But Dream suspected he'd find a perfect match to this chair if he were to visit her home.

"Clay is never ruined for having been used for creation. However, some do not take kindly to their working being- repurposed. But that is what I brought you here to discuss."

She gave him a nod, "I'm listening."

His dark gaze seemed to pierce her, "You are something known as a dream weaver. Historically, dream weavers used their abilities to tether many humans to the same dream."

She blinked at him, expression blank for a long time, "I don't mean any disrespect, but could you be mistaken?"

"I could be, but my sister is almost certainly not."

"Your sister?"

"Death."

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts that had grown thick and slow.

"Why would you want humans to have the same dreams?"

"Back in the early days of human development, human dreams were chaotic and disorganized. Dream weavers helped drive human development by uniting many humans under the same dream."

"Dreams affect human development?"

That drew a surprising chuckle from the Dream King, "Dreams are human development. The world exists as it is because of dreams- because of the Dreaming." There was a marked note of pride in his voice at that.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"So like, the depths of the ocean and all the scary stuff down there was all dreamed up by humans?" He nodded. "What about space- the entire greater solar system? Is any of that real?"

"Created by dreams, but very real." She took a moment to process that, stifling a sigh. "You are displeased?" Dream raised a curious brow.

"That's a very human-centric reality. I kind of liked it when we were just little specks of dust among the vastness of the uncharted cosmos."

The corner of his mouth lifted in almost a smile, "You still are. But only because humans have dreamed it so."

"How have we survived this long? It seems to me that human beings have a tendency to destroy more than we create."

"Humans can be very destructive. But they are also very clever. No other species has demomstrated such an capability to dream up solutions to its problems like humans."

"So like, climate change. The solution to all of the pollution, to the whole climate crisis, exists?"

"Not exactly. It may or may not exist now. But it could exist if enough humans were to dream of it."

She rested her head in her palm, forcing a breath; she was starting to get light headed. This was overwhelming. Her next breath did not come as easily as the first, a fact not unnoticed by the Dream King.

"Are you alright?"

"I-" she swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump in her throat, "I think I'm having a panic attack."

Dream calmly reached out and brushed his hand over her forehead, his intent to soothe her distress. Instead, a sharp spike of heat burst through his palm, quickly going icy. He heard her gasp, but couldn't tear his gaze away as the trails of ice left behind dark lines of deep purple criss-crossing over his wrist.

"What the fuck?" Her voice was barely over a whisper, the only evidence of distress the high-pitched strain that overtook her tone. Tearing his eyes from his hand, he saw the same design decorating her hand in a blue so dark it was almost black.

Her wide-eyed gaze flicked up to his, "Did you-" She left the question unfinished, not wanting to make an accusation and unsure of what to ask even if she did.

"No."

"Do you know what this is?"

"No." His voice had gone cold and hard, just like it had been their first time meeting. Her eyes flicked back to the lines marking her skin and Dream saw the panic begin to rekindle in them.

After only a split second of hesitation, he pressed his palm to her forehead again, "Sleep, now. We will speak again soon."

Her eyes grew cloudy, but she fought against his magic with surprising vigor, "No- the- n-nightmares-"

Dream's hand seemed to slide down over her cheek to cup her face of its own accord as her eyes started to glisten with fear, "You will suffer no bad dreams tonight, Dreamweaver."

And as she faded from his realm, her consciousness joining her body in sleep, Death's words about the girl's resilience to seeing inside his head echoed again. But the lines swirling over his wrist stretched from his fingertips all the way up his forearm, nearly to the elbow, demanding his attention. They were delicate, weaving together and knotting at the crossroads between, like a tangle of flower stems and intricate lace. And at the apex of it all, the palm of his hand had an empty circle at the center.

As he stared at the mark on his hand, Dream of the Endless felt something he was neither accustomed to or fond of- he felt lost.

*

"You look like a kicked puppy today, brother," Death remarked, not breaking pace on her way to the next destination. The city street seemed to blur behind her, though her pace appeared normal. Dream's long strides quickly made up the distance, though he said nothing.

Death's raised eyebrow slowly lowered as she noticed the markings on his hand. "It appears that congratulations are in order."

The frown lines on his face only seemed to grow more pronounced.

"Unless-"

"Unless." Dream was unamused.

"Unless you are not pleased to have found your soulmate."

If he were mortal, those words might have rung in his ears, the vibrations enough to make everything he'd known crumble. But they were not enough because he was not mortal and he did not have a soulmate.

"You believe such foolishness, sister?"

"You are so confident it is foolish with the evidence staring you right in the face?"

"This?" He raised his right hand, "This is not evidence. I have never encountered such delusion in any text or reading-"

"And you will not. But if you sought out the people who can remember the farthest back in human history, they would remember."

"If it is so certain, why is it not documented?" Dream sounded annoyed that it was becoming more difficult to be skeptical.

"It is. But it has been changed in writings, splintered and embellished, transformed into something not quite the same. They never quite get it right. But they dream of it. Surely you have seen that."

"I have. Yet I have never met a mortal with markings like this."

Death suppressed a chuckle at his determination to disprove her theory, "I myself have not seen a soul mate marking in a long time. But they exist. I suspected as soon as you'd told me the girl got in your head."

"I suppose that was a sign as well," he mused bitterly.

"Yes, it was. Why are you so determined not to believe, Morpheus? You aren't usually the type to ignore evidence. I thought you would be happy."

"Happy at a cruel joke? Even if I accepted this as truth, it is clearly the result of Desire's interference once again."

Death shook her head, "Soul mates go even beyond Desire."

"Then why is my soul mate a human?" he demanded. "Am I meant to destroy human-kind in my pursuit of happiness, sister?" He knew he was being unfair, demanding such answers from his sister, but he would not allow her to light the hope inside him. He would not have what he wanted, that much he knew.

"Of course you aren't. I don't have all the answers, Dream. But be patient. They will make themselves clear over time."

That was not what he wanted to hear. "Thank you, sister. I must go." And he did, leaving Death alone just as a sigh fell from her lips.

*

All day long, Y/N got remarks about the lines twisting up her wrist. After a night of blissfully peaceful sleep, she woke up feeling refreshed, taking a moment to examine the designs that had followed her from her dreams.

The lines had filled in more since while she slept. What had been dainty lines had thickened to nearly an eighth of an inch- she'd measured. What was more, the deep, rich blue that had made up the original color was deeper now, with glimmers of royal purple, black, and the occasional glint of something golden- like a raven's wings.

The lines seemed to connect at every possible juncture. The empty circle at the heart of her palm seemed like the center, although she didn't quite understand why.

There was a lot she didn't understand; why did she have a tattoo at all? It wasn't exactly normal to wake up with new ink. And based on the Dream King's reaction, it was also not normal for ancient royalty to find themselves with a flash tattoo. But she would hopefully get more answers tonight.

She was embarrassed- mortified actually, at the way she'd freaked out last night. But she had to go back. He'd called her a Dreamweaver, whatever that meant.

But when she climbed into bed that night, she tossed and turned, anxious thoughts keeping her mind active. She felt a strange sense of trepidation whenever she visited the Dreaming; she wasn't exactly in a hurry to piss off the Dream King any more than she already had at their first meeting. But more concerning than the shadow of fear was the sliver of excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

Despite her efforts to convince herself it was the remnants of the dream, muddling her emotions, even now she could feel his pull. She could practically feel him waiting for her on the other side of her consciousness. And when she finally did drift off to sleep, she never reached a state of rest.

Instead, she found herself seated in the chair she had left behind the night before in the throne room of what she presumed was the Dream Castle. Dream was waiting for her, his throne no longer shrouded in shadow. In fact, the whole throne room was warm and well-lit, her breath catching as she gazed around at the stunning architecture.

"Did you sleep well?" Dream's voice broke her stupor, somehow managing to catch her off guard.

"What?" Her head snapped to the throne, where he was waiting.

She watched the corner of his mouth curl up in a faint smirk, "You were concerned about nightmares, if I recall."

"Oh. No- yes, I um, slept fine." She wasn't sure why she was so flustered.

Dream let out a low hum, "Excellent."

She wasn't sure what to say, especially since Dream hadn't seemed to be in the best temper when she'd been here last. She had questions, starting with what had happened to her arm and ending with what the hell it actually meant to be a Dreamweaver.

"I'm sure you have questions."

She nodded, "A couple, yes."

"I will answer to the best of my ability."

Though her gaze lingered on the marks on her arm, the words that came out were, "What do I need to know about being a Dreamweaver?"

Dream was pensive before answering, "You must remember that the Dreaming, no matter how it responds to you, is my realm. What I say goes." You had to consciously suppress the shiver that wanted to rattle you at the intense way he held your gaze while he spoke.

She nodded, "You mentioned others- who may not take kindly to my abilities."

That elicited another pause, "That question leads to many more questions. Rest assured, I will provide an overview on my siblings, but not tonight."

She bit back the torrent of follow-ups and asked instead, "Are there more like me?"

He gave his head a solemn shake, "There were a great many Dreamweavers at one point in time. But eventually they stopped emerging and died out."

"No immortality then, I take it?" She was only joking, but he shook his head seriously. She suddenly felt shy meeting his eyes, "Are you immortal?"

He cocked his head like he was determining her intentions, "Not as you might think. I am not mortal- I do not age, grow old, or die by natural causes. Though it is exceedingly difficult, I can be killed."

The silence seemed to stretch as she processed what she had just learned. Everything should have seemed overwhelming- she shouldn't believe it. But she could feel the truth of it.

Finally, she held up a clenched fist, her eyes on the dark lines glistening in the light, "What is this?"

Dream was silent for so long that she almost asked again, but he finally said softly, "It is a soul bond."

Her gaze flicked to his eyes; the dancing lights there seemed to be waiting for her reaction. Then it fell to his own left hand, where the matching lines seemed so much more elegant on his pale skin.

"What does that mean?" She asked even though she already suspected.

"I do not know." That caught her off guard; she expected him to know everything. He certainly seemed to know more than she did.

She surprised him by asking, "Is there anything you want to ask me?"

He'd expected her to push for more information. "Have you always had these abilities?"

She offered a chagrined smile, "I didn't even know I had abilities, to be honest."

"You are quite skilled."

He made a vague hand gesture and she wasn't sure what he'd done. Then she caught a glimpse of light above her head, her mouth falling open at the intricate web of silvery white that seemed to hover over her head. She didn't quite understand how she had created this masterpiece of dreams, but she believed him.

It took her a moment to realize that he had paid her a compliment, "Oh- thank you." Her face felt a bit hot. "I have another question." At his nod, she continued, "Will I see you again?"

She couldn't explain it, since his eyes were so difficult to read, but he seemed pleased as he mulled that over, "You are not bound to me; you are free to go back to your life. But should you have need of the Dreaming, it is always here. I trust you can make your way back."

She couldn't place why she felt as though he were flirting with her; he clearly avoided expressing any kind of desire to see her again of his own volition.

She felt the urge to admit she wanted to see him again, grateful to her own good sense for stopping her before the words formed. Dream hadn't spelled out what kind of being he was to her, but she knew he was likely high above whatever a 'soul bond' meant. He was the definition of being out of someone's league.

So she nodded her head, "Thank you, Dream King."

A beat of silence. "Morpheus. You may call me Morpheus."

Her lips curled into a half-smile, "Thank you, Morpheus."

He wasn't prepared for how his name sounded when spoken from her lips. She wasn't prepared for the soft smile that graced his handsome face. Even solemn, he was beautiful. But a smile, faced directly at her- because of her- it was like knowing the sun was shining because of her.

She was so unprepared that she blinked, waking up in her own bed, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. A wave of emotions washed over her; loss, frustration, hope, longing. She felt desperate to fall back asleep, to see that smile grace Morpheus' face again. But if that was going to happen, she would have to go to him.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Thirteen

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Matthew Plays Reader’s Therapist (And Is Actually Helpful), Morpheus Still Refuses to Answer Reader’s Questions (Reader Get’s Pissed Off), Tension, Reader Tries to Pick A Fight With Morpheus (Key Word: Tries).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.6k

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Standing in the lavish hotel bathroom (how did the being even get a hotel room?), you stared at your hands which held absolutely no evidence of what had happened last night. Your fingernails were nice and rounded, not broken and bloody. You didn’t have micro cuts on your fingers. Your hands didn’t have deep gouges from crashing into the lamp… you didn’t have any evidence of the attacks from those hell beasts. Your mind liked to play tricks on you, but you could feel the physical difference this time. You had been healed but by what? Dream? What were his intentions then? He didn’t seem to be a being that did something like that without an ulterior motive. Shifting your gaze from your hands, you looked at the octagonal-shaped ruby hanging around your neck, sparkling with inner magic you could feel humming from where it was pressed against your bare skin. 

“Unless you wish to be hunted by the hell beasts again, I advise against taking the ruby off.”

Dream’s— Morpheus’s— words hadn’t been entirely reassuring and you wanted to ask what he meant by that or at least question what the ruby did. But you had chickened out and fled to the bathroom for a moment of privacy from the Endless and his talking raven, Matthew. Matthew, the talking raven… you were giving yourself a headache just thinking about it despite knowing that there were stranger things in The Dreaming. Reaching for the ruby, you brushed your fingers over the gemstone, feeling the tickle of energy buzzing into your fingers. The ruby felt alive. 

Sand, Ruby, Helm.

Those tools were gone, you knew that much from reading Roderick’s journal. Morpheus would be wanting those back and you suppose that was exactly what he was doing at the moment. But why bring you along for the ride? You shook your head and slapped your cheeks. Best not to get into an Endless’s business, be smart about this, Y/N. Reset. Take stock of the situation. Come up with a plan. First things first, your current attire was far from appropriate and you felt entirely embarrassed standing in front of Morpheus and Matthew in it. Granted that dream you had of him when you fell asleep in the tub certainly exposed plenty and left you feeling a noxious draw to him, but you just felt too exposed at the moment. There was a knock at the door. Letting out a heavy sigh and rolling your eyes, you went to open the door. There was no one there, then you looked down. 

Matthew was standing on the ground, a plastic bag hanging from his beak. He tilted his head at you. You could just barely see what looked like one of your shirts in the bag. Bending down, you took the bag from him. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” You stated before closing the door in his face. 

“Well at least I got a thank you,” You heard Matthew grumble before the sound of wings fluttering told you he had left. You returned to the bathroom counter and set the bag down, taking a peak at what was inside. It was one of your shirts, along with a pair of lounge shorts, underwear, and a bra. Your eyebrow went up. 

“Gone through my underwear drawer have you, Matthew?” You questioned, pulling the clothing out. 

“And I didn’t like it!” Matthew snapped from the other room, having heard your words. You couldn’t help the cheeky laugh that escaped your lips. Changing out of your nightgown, you dressed into comfortable lounge clothes and carefully folded your nightgown, placing it in the bag. Now wearing more modest clothes, you worked on getting your hair into a more manageable state. When your rat's nest was cleaned up and you felt that you were in a sort of normal state, you ventured from the bathroom. Morpheus was nowhere to be seen but Matthew was waiting for you on the back of the chair at the table. Walking over to the table, you set the bag on it before taking a seat and looking at the raven. 

“Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?” Matthew blinked at you and fluttered his wings. 

“Are you going to hit me with that book again? Because one, rude. Two, that hurt.” He asked, your eyes dropped to the book that rested on the table. It was the same book you had been reading last night… you looked back up at the raven. 

“Don’t give me a reason to and we’ll get along fine.” 

Matthew had explained as much as he could about why the hell beasts had been hunting you. Apparently, it was because you were bound to Morpheus and now one of his weaknessess because of it. Take you out you hurt him. Yet another reason for Morpheus to not like you, you were essentially a liability he was stuck with until you died of, hopefully, old age. At the moment you were waiting on the DoorDash order you had placed, your phone was among the things Matthew had grabbed from Fawny Rig. How he did with wings and a beak, you didn’t know nor cared. Since it was dinner time, and you being a decent human being, you had asked Matthew if he wanted you to order him anything. As it turned out, he was craving hot dogs so that’s what you had bought. One fully loaded hot dog for you and just a plain one for Matthew. 

Morpheus hadn’t come back yet, Matthew explaining that he was on the hunt for his sand which was here in London. You were in the middle of a very boring game of I spy when room service dropped off your DoorDash order. Carrying the bag to the table, you dug into your hot dog, promising Matthew that you’d fix his when you were done eating. You wolfed down your hot dog, not leaving a crumb behind before taking out Matthew’s order. He hopped over to you in excitement. You hadn’t exactly thought about the logistics of how Matthew would eat it, but you figured that you could just tear it apart and feed it to him that way. So that’s what you did. 

Your fingers picked apart the cold hot dog slowly, its juices coating your fingers. You then flicked a piece in the air and Matthew who had been watching you work away like a hawk, snapped it up with a croak of happiness.

“Are you actually tasting it or are you just taking pleasure in watching me feed you a hot dog?” You asked him, your eyes lifting from the half-torn hot dog. Matthew shifted his eyes to you and shuffled his wings.

“Believe it or not, this is incredibly pleasurable for me, and I am enjoying every bit of hot dog you are currently feeding me, ma’am,” Matthew responded, taking a few steps closer to your hands. “Just cause I’m a bird now doesn’t mean I can’t taste it… man, I miss hot dogs. Don’t even get me started on pizza.”

Your lips twitched and you threw him another piece. He happily snapped it up as you returned to picking the cold processed meat apart. While you continued to feed the elated bird, your thoughts wandered. Being bonded together aside, you didn’t know why he had taken you with him. You were a Burgess. One of the family members of the man who had taken his freedom for over a century. If anything, you expected him to have a severe dislike for you. Plus, it wasn’t like he needed you to stay bound to him and like you had thought earlier, you were a big, fat liability. Why would he want you around when your family was responsible for his condition?

“You know it’s not your fault.” You looked up to see Matthew studying you with his small black eyes. He hopped closer and picked at the hem of your shirt with his beak. “You didn’t even know about him until a month ago and we both know how unhappy you were when you found out. I mean the shouting match… wow, I’ve never heard a woman that mad before. Don’t even get me started on the axe… wish I could have seen that. Sounds kickass.”

“How do you know about that?” You questioned in confusion. Matthew gave you a bird’s form of a shrug.

“I’m connected to him now, ma’am. I see what he sees, and I can somewhat feel what he feels. Don’t ask me how this familiar shit works because I still don’t know and am new at this… but what happened isn’t your fault.”

“I would have tried to get him out sooner if I had known,” You replied honestly, your fingers ceasing their picking motions. “I’ve heard the stories of my great-grandfather; I just thought it was bullshit. I never thought there would be any truth to it. I had so many chances to go down into that basement, but I never tried to. If only I had—“ You paused and then sighed. “Doesn’t really matter now. The damage has been done.”

“That’s not true,” Matthew protested loudly, flapping his wings. “Granted I have no idea why he’s bringing you along when you had nothing to do with him except cracking him out of that prison… this is dangerous work… but I don’t think he holds any ill will for what your great grandpops did.” Matthew cocked his head and shuffled his feet. “Pretty sure it’s the opposite actually.” 

Lifting the remaining piece of hot dog, you let Matthew take it from your fingers before reaching for a napkin and cleaning your fingers. You wanted to tell him that seeing him locked up in the basement wasn’t the first time you had seen him. You wanted to admit that you had so many dreams of Morpheus you thought you were going crazy when you actually came face to face with him. You wanted to admit that something in your gut had always been begging you to go to the manor and check out the basement you had always been told to stay out of for years. But you stayed silent and away like a good granddaughter. Always so obedient.

Somehow, someway, deep down you knew that something was going on between you and Morpheus, and he didn’t like it. It was a gut feeling you had that you knew to be true. Whatever magic Roderick had played with had done something to your family. You were forever marked by it, some connection that left you tied to Dream of the Endless. That damned bond. Morpheus was probably dragging you along to try and find a way to sever that connection, whatever the cost. He didn’t seem to like the fact that you were his. Then again, why get so pissy about you kissing others? He’d made it clear that you were his in that dream. You had no idea what to think. There was the sound of a door shutting and Morpheus strode into the bedroom, his face once again devoid of emotion. You straightened up in your seat as Matthew hopped across the table, coming to attention. 

“How was your outing, sir?” He broached, cocking his head to the side before fluttering his way to the back of the chair next to you. “Did you convince her?”

“To a point,” Morpheus replied, coming to a stop next to the large window opposite the bed. He stared out into the night, half of his face highlighted by the moon. Your eyes traced his beautiful cheekbone before you managed to tear them away. “I’ll be retrieving it tomorrow. In the meantime, did you do as asked?”

“Of course,” Matthew said, dipping his head. “Left the message with Lucienne. Spent the last twenty minutes enjoying the hell out of my first hot dog since I died. Those things are damn delicious if I might say so.”

A black eyebrow rose, and silver blue eyes turned to you. You shifted your gaze away, not wanting to meet his electric gaze.

“DoorDash, the human does actually need to eat to live.” You stated crisply, annoyed with the fact that he had basically rescued you from certain death (and a rather painful one too) and then pissed off to somewhere else for an entire day leaving you to wonder what the hell was going on. You weren’t happy with him, he knew that. Finally, he spoke. 

“Matthew, leave us,” Morpheus drew out. The raven looked between the two of you. He picked at the hem of your shirt. 

“Try not to get too violent, I like having my boss in one piece.” You gave Matthew a withering look. “What? I saw what you did with that axe…” He then flew off, disappearing into the night sky. 

“Should I be expecting violence from you this night?” Your eye twitched at his words and pushing back from your seat, you stood up and squarely faced him.

“I don’t know. Why am I getting ‘Me Tarzan. You Jane. My Banana!’ from you every time I kiss a guy I like!?”

His face didn’t deviate from his cool look but he did step right up to you, so you were chest to chest. You glared up at him. His blue eyes glimmered silver for a few moments, reminding you who you were prepared to go off on. An Endless. 

“If I recall, we’ve already had this conversation, Y/N.” He told you, looking down at you with just a hint of a tug at the corner of his mouth. Oh yeah, you had this conversation. When you were naked, taking a bath, and of course, asleep. What was it he had said? ‘You are mine’ That most definitely did not count.

“That doesn’t count, and your answer wasn’t an answer.”

“It was, just not the one you were looking for.” This man, this being, is going to make you develop an eye tick. But he also made a flush simmer just beneath your skin. Your body knew what it wanted… but why him? Morpheus was beginning to vex you.

“You know what I want to know,” You hissed, raising your finger, and jabbing him in his chest with it. Damn it, his pectoral felt immaculate. Was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect? “Why won’t you tell me!? What am I to you? A pest? A problem? A minor inconvenience you must deal with until you figure out how to undo what Roderick did!?”

Morpheus didn’t answer you immediately, rather he gently took the hand of the finger you had pressed into his chest in his. His fingers wrapped around yours and slipped across your skin. His touch made little zips of lightning run down your arm. Morpheus’s head bent down, inching towards yours until you could feel that calming coolness his skin gave off once more. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” He questioned, his voice whisper soft. You sucked in a breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you trust me?”

A shiver went up your spine and you were sure he had seen you tremble… and felt it as well. The proximity of your body made your heart start to beat faster and for a moment, you considered lying to him just to get an answer. No, at this point in your life you had no secrets. Not when he was always there in the back of your mind, watching over you. You dropped your eyes, no longer able to maintain that contact. 

“No, you know I don’t trust anyone.” You responded equally as softly. 

“There is no point in telling you if you do not trust me, little troublemaker,” Morpheus explained, gently stroking his thumb against the palm he still held. Your fingers twitched against his. You hated that he was right. “You know I have patience, I’m willing to wait as long as that may take.”

He had patience. He had all the time in the universe. He could wait. 

But you didn’t. 

Date Published: 9/26/22

Last Edit: 7/2/23

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[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part VIII.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by​ @sic-vita​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hiya! Hope this message finds you well. I’m so excited to be able to introduce a couple of familiar faces in this chapter. Let me know how you like it and enjoy your evening/day.

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus’ sand swirls softly around your body for the second time in two nights. You pay more attention to the process this time round since you are aware of what is happening. Your understanding does nothing to delay things however. The pull towards sleep is inexorable. Your eyes fall closed and your mind drifts.

The next sensation you are aware of is a surface coming up to meet your soles.

The impact with the flagstones is jarring. You wobble like a new-born lamb taking their first steps.

Morpheus is unaffected, his posture is perfect, his dark locks unruly but not messy. You suppose you should not be surprised; this is his realm after all.

You are standing in a corridor fashioned from a pale stone. Steady flames in torch brackets emit a warm light. A large wooden door sits before you.

“Where are we?” You ask.

“This is my palace.”

His reply catches you off guard.

You have no idea what to say back so you smile and nod a few times.

“Walk with me,” he requests politely.

The doors open of their own accord which sends your eyes widening, but the view through them goes one step further. Your mouth genuinely drops.

You see a library. A library beyond your wildest imaginings. One with lots and lots of windows and walkways and spiral staircases. Grand and majestic and yet inviting and peaceful.

Morpheus begins to move. His strides are long and you are so enraptured by your surroundings that you struggle to keep up with him.

You somehow reach a table. You barely notice the scarlet upholstered chairs or the blue reading lamps, let alone the presence of another person standing at the head of it. You are too distracted by the never-ending morphing of the shelves and the impossibly large amount of books that sit on them.

"Why didn’t you mention this place sooner? I would have been much easier to persuade if you had led with this.” You are still looking up as you tease the Dream King.

You manage to drag your attention away from the magical scene.

A person watches you bemusedly over the top of their round rimmed glasses.

Colour rushes to your cheeks.

"Oh!"

You shrink backwards in the throes of a cringe attack.

"Lucienne."  

"Lord Morpheus."

You watch their simple exchange but cannot help but notice the warmth in their eyes.

Then, those two pairs of eyes fix on you.

“Y/N, I would like you to meet Lucienne. Lucienne is the custodian of the palace library and provides me with invaluable counsel regarding matters of great importance in the Dreaming. You can trust her with your life.”

You can barely contain your excitement; not only had Morpheus brought you to his literal home, he had also just introduced you to a friend.

Embarrassment suppressed, you approach Lucienne and offer your hand to shake.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

Between her returning beaming smile and fantastic outfit, you realise that you are quickly beginning to like Lucienne.

You step back beside Morpheus. A soothing vibration spreads through you as his hand hovers near the small of your back. You instinctively lean towards him, but the sensation disappears when Lucienne visibly notices the declining space between you.

Morpheus starts to explain the circumstances of your presence.

“I have recently confirmed that Y/N’s parasomnia is responsible for the unusual activity we have been experiencing in recent times.”

 The smile drops from Lucienne’s face.

“Sir, are you sure it is safe for someone with that kind of influence to be at the heart of the Dreaming? I cannot help but compare the events to those created by vortexes.”

“Y/N is not a vortex.”

“But Sir-,”

He speaks again with quiet authority, “Y/N is not a vortex, Lucienne, and she is here because she is under my protection.”

“Of course My Lord. Forgive my caution.”

“You need not apologise, you have every right to be cautious, and I thank you for voicing your concerns.”

Lucienne nods. “Will that be all My Lord, or is there something I can assist you with?"

Morpheus gestures to the pile of books on the table.

Your eyes track down the spines. Your full name stands out in gold lettering on a couple of them. At the bottom of the stack, sits the first volume from ‘A Song of Ice and Fire.’

He had looked up Game of Thrones like you had suggested.

You suppress a giggle as Morpheus starts talking to Lucienne again.

“I made a start yesterday in cross referencing the records of seismic disturbances in the realm against Y/N’s nightmares. I would appreciate a second pair of hands to reach a conclusion more swiftly.”

“I would be happy to, My Lord.”

Lucienne sits down, moving the tails of her coat out the way. Morpheus sits opposite.

“Let me get this straight. Everyone’s dreams are recorded here in these books?”

“That is correct, as well as every book that has ever been imagined in the Waking World, even if they are unpublished or unwritten.” Lucienne says.

"So this is how you were able to look up my dreams for the cottage dream?”

“It is, yes,” Morpheus affirms.

He and Lucienne begin to read. After less than a minute, they are talking out loud about your night terrors in explicit detail.

It brings them back with disgusting clarity, and reinforces to you just how much trouble you seem to cause everyone you come into contact with.

Then, more and more technical words and phrases that mean nothing to you start to be woven into the already triggering conversation.

You look back and forth between Lucienne and Morpheus, an uneasy sensation in your gut.

You are very aware of the fact that you are becoming overwhelmed.

Your inferiority complex starts a berating inner monologue.

In your already heightened emotional state, this thought process quickly spirals out of control.

The word burden stands out. It bounces around your neurons with persistence.

You are already so wounded by your guilt and self-loathing that every insult sticks like toffee to a molar. Not impossible to remove but likely to stay around for a good while and exacerbate the ache in your heart.

It all becomes too much.

You are checking your surroundings for a way to leave.

It appears that backwards is your only option so you take it. You move slowly at first, tiptoe stance engaged.

“Y/N?”

Morpheus speaks your name but you know you are too far now for him to be able to see you.

“Let her go, My Lord.” You hear Lucienne say.

“But-”

“Let her go. In my experience, humans only slip away when they do not wish to be followed. Give her some time alone.”

“Very well,” Morpheus acquiesces softly.

Despite this comment, you do not trust that he won’t change his mind.

You run the remainder of the way from the room and also in some of the corridors beyond.

It is only when you find the palace entrance do you finally stop.

Tears start to fall as you walk across the bridge over the mirror lake. You find a sheltered spot in amongst some trees and try to stem the flow of sadness.

There’s a creaking noise as an imposing black carrion swoops down to sit on a branch above you.

The bird caws once.

"Hello," you say meekly.

"Hi!"

Your eyebrows rise.

"What the f-" You start to exclaim before catching yourself. "No, remember, this is the literal place where dreams are made, of course there could be a talking bird."

"I am way more than just a bird, I’m Matthew, one of Lord Morpheus’ ravens.” His tone is sassy and little proud.

You huff. “Did Lord Morpheus send you to come and check on me, Matthew?”

“Nope.”

You look down. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He flies down and sits beside you on the verdant grass.

“What’s your name?” He asks, fixing a bright, beady eye on you.

“Y/N.”

Matthew squawks. “You’re Y/N?! The Dreamer that Morpheus has been going to visit.”

“The very same.”

”Well, Y/N, I can’t help but notice that you’ve been crying. You want to talk about it?”

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

"Oh no what's this, a spider web and I'm caught in the middle. So I turned to run. The thought of all the stupid things I've done."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee      

[igotanidea]

Night shift : Morpheus x reader

request from @pinksirensong: 157 from the "Choose for me - prompt list" with Morpheus

157 was "I read your diary" so here we go.

masterlist

***

„Oh, no, not again” she muttered to herself upon realizing she was standing in the small dark room illuminated only by the littlest speck of light coming from the shut window. If it was the same place as usual there was an oak  desk somewhere on the right and if she was careful enough maybe this time …. “Auch!” of course she missed it and bumped into the furniture causing some serious damage to her left big toe. Groaning in pain she sat behind it and reached towards the right were most of the time was a little desk lamp. “Ok, what is it now?” she threw into space.

“Hello” a slender figure appear on the other side of the desk using a bit of light for the better effect “it’s been a while since we saw each other.”

“Are you serious, Lorien? You’ve been causing me dreams for weeks now. Can’t a girl get proper rest? You know I have a very stressfull and demanding job, right?”

“That is why you are here.”

“So apart from doing my duties in the waking I could also be your therapist here?”

“I wouldn’t call it like that” the dream tapped his chin pretending to wonder about her choice of words.

“Fine. Than how would you call it?”

“How about gaining the experience?”

“By running a therapeutic session for a dream?”

“Precisely.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but is it not a purpose of a dream to give pleasant feelings and memories?”

“I thought you like your job.”

“I do, but it does not mean that I want to do it during my sleep! Besides, that is not the answer to my question. Are you running through the identity crisis, again?”

“No. Of course not.”

“And now you are also in denial. Look” she shook her head in disapproval “whatever conflict you have with Morpheus….”

“Don’t mention his name…” the dream cringed

“…I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Dream Lord does not know about my presence here If he were to find out….”

“Daddy issues?”

“You know I’m already regretting asking for your help.”

“Asking?” she raised eyebrows “you call that a request? I would rather name it a demand, a coercion even.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I do need your help, doctor. You took an oath to help, didn’t you?”

“People! I. Help. People.”

“I can change into a man” Lorien blinked and in a heartbeat instead of a sparkling silhouette with horns and tail she found herself sitting in front of incredibly handsome young man with ruffled dark hair and brown eyes, dressed in a hoodie and jeans. “Is this more of a dream to you now?” he smiled showing his perfect teeth and the poor girl blushed unwillingly.

“Stop it. I can help you just quit messing with my head.”

“Good. Now , I think I may have a problem with some dream girl. I think I like her, but she does not pay attention to me. What should I do?”

“Oh my god.” The therapist hid her face in hands wishing she was left alone. Being a coach and a psychologist was what she loved doing but usually also left her drained and in need of proper, good night rest. She never expected that her dreams would literally haunt her, asking for advice and some hint. Dreams, Hell’s bells! Instead of sleep she got non-stop work and was slowly decaying, which obviously was starting to affect her work. At some point she even found herself unable to differentiate between the counsels given in real life and those provided at night.

“Lorien.” For the first time since she could remember hearing Morpheus voice was actually a blessing. Hopefully it wouldn’t backfire. “That is enough.”

“Lord Morpheus” the dream raised to his feet, knocking the chair down in process “I beg your apologies. I never meant to go against you. I was just seeking some guidance on….”

“Does your purpose bother you?”

“No, no, no, of course not.”

“Shall I give you another?”

“Could you do that my lord”

“Yes. I could condemn you to darkness for disobeying the rules and laws of the Dreaming.”

“I am infinitely sorry, my Lord. Please, this shall never happen again. Forgive me.” Lorien begged on his knees in front of his master.

“Go back to the dreaming and leave me with her. We shall resume this conversation upon my return to the Realm.”  

“Yes, my Lord”.

***

“You should have told me”

“About your subjects psychological problems?”

“Yes”

“Why? So you could take your anger out on them?”

“So I could remind them that they are not humans”

“Maybe. But they have a lot of contact with them, so it’s inevitable that it rubs off on how they act. “

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Dream. But I’m not the one who should help them through it.”

“And therefore you should have told me.”

“And here we go again” she stood up throwing hand in the air exasperated “you just don’t get it. You can be too cruel on them. You are like a dictator in your own kingdom. Me, myself and I, all the time.”

“Is there any other way to ensure order?”

“Yes. Rational approach. And you, Dream, you have a stack of problems yourself, but I’m not going to talk about it. Can I just get some sleep? Please” she looked at him pleadingly and only at this moment he noticed how tired and stressed she was and it moved something inside.

“I apologise. This is indeed my fault. I should have controlled Lorien better.”

“It’s not just him you know.” She blurted without thinking, her mind betraying her

“What? Who else?”

“Nothing. No one. Just forget I said everything. Please, Dream, I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“very well. I will grant you your wish. And since now I will personally make sure no dream or nightmare disturb your night.”

“So you will creep inside my head at night. Well, this could be fun.”

“Sleep now.” He said in this soft, dark, silky voice of his that instantly made her close her eyes and drift off to a blur she would not remember in the morning. When she rested her head on the desk Morpheus scanned her face and the slightest smile appeared on his face. There was no denying he was feeling something for this girl. Gently, he brushed a single strand of hair off her face and caressed her cheek leaning slightly inhaling her scent. But the moment she shifted the position he funked and  in a blink returned back to the dreaming. There was something in his mind that had to be taken care of immediately and it was not a disciplinary talk with Lorien.

“Lucienne! I need a dreamer’s book!”

***

Morning took her by surprise. Even more so, because for the first time in months she had no memory of counselling at night and actually felt refreshed and well-rested.

“Thank you, Dream” she muttered, contently stretching her back.

“I read your diary.”

“I revoke the thanks” she covered her face with a duvet trying to pretend he was not there. Nope. The Dream Lord was in his Realm, busy with whatever had to be done and was not sitting in the armchair in her apartment in London. She chanted that sentence in her mind three times before daring to take a peek. But he was still there, looking quite funny dressed in black and nestled between the colorful pillows in the pink, fluffy piece of furniture.

“Hello, Dream, what brings you here?” the duvet went down to her chest and she propped herself up on the elbow.

“I read your diary.” He repeated

“You what?”

“Don’t make me say it third time, now”

“No, it’s not that I didn’t hear you. I just don’t quite understand.”

“Why didn’t you mention your troubles?” he asked and there was a bit of… worry(?)  in his voice.

“What troubles?” at this point she wasn’t anymore sure if it was real or not

“The…. The drinking problem?” he hesitated “is that what you people call it?”

“Um… Dream?” she opened her eyes wide trying to disturb his words, but there was not a chance for that.

“And the… neurosis? Depression?”

“I think….”

“How is it even possible that you humans can suffer through so much issues? And the anxiety? Do you have all those at once. I never noticed.”

“That is because you never pay attention.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Morpheus!” she yelled and only the raised tone made him stop and look at her with hurt in his eyes. “Stop talking for a second. What exactly did you read?”

“You diary” he said again

“Mhm, right. The only problem is that I don’t have one. “ she hanged her voice “so what. Did. You. Read?”

He flicked his fingers and a small, green book appeared in his hands making the girl pale.

“where did you find it?” she stammered

“In the dreaming, we have all that was or will be written there.”

“Give it back to me! Now!” she jumped off the bed, forgetting she was still in her pajamas shorts and t-shirt. “I’m serious Dream, do you have any idea what you just did?!”

“No.” he looked at her almost bare legs and suddenly she felt hot

“You, you idiot, just went through the confidential, medical information of my patients! This is a serious violation! Stop looking at me like that you fool! Have you ever stopped your actions and consider that it might do some damage to those around you. Oh, why am I even asking? Of course you did not. You are Dream of the Endless” she mocked “you do not listen, care or think! If someone were to find out this leaked….” she rumbled “Shit, Morpheus.”

“You are so beautiful when you're angry.” He whispered, but she heard it.

“What did you just said?” the girl turned abruptly

“You are so perfect now.” He moved towards her reaching for her hand

“Do not play with me, Dream Lord” she yanked herself off his embrace “This is not the time. Or place. Or circumstances. I need you to repeat after me. I…

“I…” he said

“will never….”

“will never….”

“go through the book that concern me or my job again."

‘promise that.” he smirked

“that is not what I said “ she crossed her arms”

“And I won’t repeat it. I won’t make a vow like that.”

“And why is that?”

“Because how else would I know how to get to your heart and win your affection over?” he took a step towards her, towering over the girl’s figure and leaning down clearly aiming for a kiss.

“Nope.” She moved back “it does not work like that.”

“Very well. I apologize. But I will make you change your mind. There were also an interesting chapter on male and female relationship in that book of yours. From what I’ve understand you are a classic example of pushing away someone you love.”

“Are you trying to be my therapist now?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’ll bite then. Let’s see where that goes.” she smiled giving him the subtlest clue that despite everything there was a chance for him to actually win her heart.

[just-some-random-blogger]

How about a Hob daughter badass!reader x Morpheus.

Do you know Attack on Titan? An AU where she a soldier in the survey corps or an assassin or spy or something. That would be cool I think 🥹❤️

Mortality

Dream of the Endless x Gadling!Reader

Summary: After a grueling day that's left your clothes, flesh and mind tattered and torn, you hear not only an earful from your father, but as well as the King of Nightmares that lurks in the corner of your room.

Word Count: >900

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, mentions/depictions of injury, survivors guilt, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this is so wild i love it lets go. edit: idk why i thought i could write anything with AoT lore without having watched it 😬🤪 SO im sorry i just made a hurt/comfort-esque fic where reader is injured and dream freaks out cos hob cant die but his daughter can the req was daughter!reader but i didnt use any gender specific pronouns so ear your heart out. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @shadow-pancake9 i hope you like it @deniixlovezelda my love <3 <3

"DON'T YOU DARE CLOSE THAT DAMNED D-"

But I did. I closed that damned door as I uninterestedly walked into my room and locked it behind me.

I whine as I clutch the bandages wrapped around my torso. It wasn't because it hurt... well, it did, but it was because my father was barking and banging on the door of my bedroom that I whined.

I ignored him, knowing he'd tire eventually and he'd talk to me levelheadedly after his anger wore off. I move to my desk and grab bandage wraps to replace the ones on my arm.

I open my lamp light, not bothered to open the light of my room cause it was by the door.

I remove my wraps and begin to replace the ones on the deep slash on my bicep. The sound of my father's barking and hammering remind me too much of the sounds from the incident earlier today and so I have to stop my wrapping and cover my ears until he ceases.

Hob Gadling nary waivers when he sets his mind on something though, so it is I that has to adjust. I release a breath and begin to work on my pulsing arm.

By the time the brutalizing on the door stops, I am halfway through wrapping my arm.

It is also the point I feel a presence in the corner of my room. I ignore it in lieu of dressing my wounds.

When I'm done, I huff and seal off bandage, "did my dad call you?"

"No," his voice is deep and harsh. It echoes in the room. He adds, "Hob is far too distressed to think of anything but you presently."

I turn over my shoulder and find a dark figure walking over to me. I do not stand from the side of my bed to greet him. I instead clench my jaw.

"I came here in my on my own volition," Lord Morpheus says once he is before me.

I blink at the sight of his face. His hair is disheveled the way it always it, his eyes are dark yet gleaming as per usual, but there is a certain hardness to his expression, a certain level of force with the press of his lips.

I turn away from him and remove my boots, "feel free to do the same when you leave."

He calls my name. I let it pass through the other ear and roll my shoulders back. I regret it, considering the pain that shoots through my body.

"You are becoming more reckless than ever," the Dream king says.

I throw my boots under my desk and then slowly crawl onto my bed, "thanks. I do it for the attention."

He calls my name out again.

I lean on my pillows and bring my feet under my covers, "I'm joking," I quip dryly.

"Your father and I are very concerned-"

"Well, what do you expect me to do, huh!" I snap, raising a hand, "you expect me to turn the other way when-" I hiss and regret moving my arms as I slightly strain myself.

Dream watches me as I curl up.

"Look," I huff, "I've had a long day. My- my corps--" I hold my tongue, not wanting to continue. I look up at him as he looks down on me with hunched shoulders and a grave expression.

"I am aware," he raises his brows, "of the casualties you h--"

"Then get off my ass!" I snap, lying down, and retreating under my blanket, "I don't need either of you to rub more salt into my wounds."

"Neither of us inten-"

"Neither of you understand what it feels to live at the edge of a blade! Neither of you know what it's like to be ready to give up your life for someone you care about," my eyes begin to water under the sheets, "so don't come here telling me I should have been careful when I am only here because of the so-called recklessness of my friends."

He does not respond this time.

I silently sob under the covers. I wait for him to leave, but I know the feeling of his gaze better than most.

A moment passes. I release a sigh, "go away, Morpheus."

He speaks my name one last time.

I roll on my bed with much difficulty, "you better not come to me in my dreams tonight."

[neelkanthivf]

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[elena-mayfair]

Lost in the dream

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, blood, nightmarish images Summary: As a sorceress and exorcist you got used to the nightmares in your life, creatures that you fight fearlessly. But there is one place where your fear overcomes you, your dreams. Every night you dream nightmares and every night you see him. Word count: 2.5k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

***

Nightmares were a part of your life since you remembered. Not typical nightmares, like standing naked in front of the crowd, or falling down endlessly. Your nightmares were more terrifying than that, more brutal, bloody horror scenarios, they were more real. That was it, your nightmares always felt real.

Nights were always restless. Usually, they started by attempting to fall asleep, trying to drift away into the dream world, to rest, to dream good dreams. But as your body was starting to drift away, your mind did not. Suddenly you could feel it, a shiver going through your body, that tingling feeling starting from the legs and slowly going up, consuming your whole body, paralyzing. After your body was paralyzed there was a time for your mind. Loud pumping sound filled your ears, bursting into your brain like you could hear your own blood and terrified heart beating from the inside. The beating was intensifying accompanied by ringing in your ears, vibrating, pumping the loud blood through the brain like it meant to drown it. Your body was feeling heavy, useless, spiked with a thousand needles.

You knew what was happening, you knew that paralysis came and took control of your body and mind. With the remaining consciousness, you desperately attempted to move, to move a useless limb, to move a leg, or an arm. The slightest move could stop all of this. But you couldn't. You could only lie there and feel. Feel hopeless…feel fear...

And then, when your body and mind completely gave up, a Nightmare came…

***

You were standing in front of the mirror. The white light coming out from the bathroom lamp was hurting your eyes. It was cold, everything around you was cold, walls, floor, the bathroom sink under your fingers. "I'm in the hospital," you thought to yourself. You looked in the mirror and saw your own reflection, nothing else. You were expecting to see a demon or other entity, but your reflection was terrifying enough, it was disturbing. Your face was oddly pale, dark circles under your eyes were like two badges of a few too many nightmares. "I need to wake up," you thought to yourself but before you could do anything you heard a voice in the distance. It was deep and dark, chilling yet oddly comforting. Like there was a warmth hidden under the darkness, it was calling your name. Softly but firmly, it was speaking your name. You felt it everywhere around you, you felt it inside you, the darkness in your veins, it was calling you, the darkness was calling you and you wanted to follow that voice but you couldn't. All you could do was look back at your reflection in the mirror. The darkness was gone and it was only you and your reflection. "I need to wake up! For fuck sake, it is just a dream, I need to wake up," as always you were aware that this is a dream but you rarely could stop it. It had to play out, and you had to go through it.

You wanted to look away and get out but just as you moved your hands from the bathroom sink, you felt something… you felt something in your mouth. Fear took over you. You looked into your own eyes reflected in the mirror and all you saw was fear. With your tongue, you started checking inside of your mouth and you felt it…a loose tooth. "No… no please no," came through your mind as you reached out to your mouth and pulled it out. Bloody tooth. Your hand started shaking when you felt another coming out. You reached out and pulled it out, and another when suddenly your mouth was full of the teeth, they all were falling out…you started coughing, spitting out teeth and blood, you were choking, it was endless, tens and hundreds of teeth filling in your mouth, choking you, all you could see was the sink filled with teeth and blood….there was so mych blood, and you could not stop spitting them…endless amount of bloody teeth.

It was not stopping… Blood… Blood was everywhere… Teeth were filling in the sink… Blood… You were choking... You were crying…

……

And then suddenly it was all over. You opened your eyes and you did not see the bathroom mirror in front of you. You checked your mouth with your tongue automatically and you felt relieved. "Fuck. It was just a dream" you thought to yourself and realized that the dream was not over yet.

You turned around and discovered that you were in the same place again. The same place where you were ending up at the end of every nightmare. It was a wasteland, a dying world. Within an eye's reach, everything was dead, threes, grass, land, and even the sky above you seemed dying. The wind was throwing dust and dead leaves in your face, making it hard to see. But you could see, the dark figure standing in the distance, still, unshaken by everything around, like a statue. It was turned away from you, looking into the distance, all you could see is a black coat flowing in the wind.

For a few months now your every nightmare ended up here. In exactly the same place. With the dark figure standing in the distance. Every time you tried to reach it but you were always waking up after taking barely two steps. But not this time…. You took the first step, and then another, and another, and you did not wake up. "That's new," you stopped for a second surprised that you are still in the dream. You looked up just to see that the dark figure is still standing exactly where it was. You took a deep breath and started walking towards it, faster and faster, almost running, afraid that you will wake up any minute and you will have to start all over again tomorrow. You could almost see the shape of the figure, it was a man. The tall, thin man, with raven black hair that seemed to you from a distance like raven feathers. His long black coat was flowing in the wind, he was holding something in his hand. You could almost reach him…you could almost see his face, you were almost there…

You reached out your hand and….

…..

He turned towards you.

***

For a split second, you saw black eyes, deep, endless, and shining, like two stars in the night sky. They looked at you and you could almost swear that they were surprised. You woke up with your heart pumping in your chest. You opened your eyes and you were back in your bedroom. It took you a few moments to gather your thoughts and regain your grip on reality. You sit up in your bed and brushed your hands through your hair. Your heart was beating like crazy in your chest like it wanted to burst out. You slowly moved yourself to the edge of the bed and reached out for the pack of cigarettes on your nightstand. You lid up one, inhaled a heavy smoke, and allowed it to soothe your nerves. With a cigarette in your fingers, you got up and walked to the bathroom. This bathroom was nothing like the one in your nightmare. It was warm, and cozy, lid up candle-like light. You put out the cigarette under running water and splashed some onto your sweated face. Even though you knew it was a dream you checked your teeth with your tongue again relieved to find out that they were all there. "What a nightmare," you thought to yourself. You should be used to it by now. You had them for years now, ever since you met John Constantine and you started practicing sorcery. In the waking world you've seen many nightmarish creatures, you exorcised plenty of them, but none of that could compare to your nightmares. None of it terrified you like your nightmares, because in your nightmares you were powerless.

You stepped out of the bathroom, and despite your better judgment, decided to get back to bed, hoping that this time you will fall asleep for at least a few hours.

You could not stop thinking about, that deep dark voice calling your name. That man, standing in the distance. You've almost reached him this time, he saw you, you saw his eyes. They were endless. You sat down on the edge of the bed with the intention to calm yourself down with one more cigarette and then you saw him. He was there, a dark figure hidden in the black room, disguised by the darkness of the night. Sitting in your armchair. Looking at you, with his starry eyes. "Oh for fuck sake!" you swore out loud "I need to wake up!! Right fucking now!" you got up from the bed and directed yourself towards the window. Just as you reached out to open it a black raven flew down to the window still and cawed at you. "Oh come on!!" you cried out with frustration "Fuck off bird! I need air! I need to wake up!"

"You are awake" you heard the same dark, deep, electrifying voice, the same you heard in your dream.

"I am dreaming," you slowly turned "You are a dream" you looked at him.

"Yes, I am a Dream" his voice was so deep that you could feel it inside you. Like it was reaching out and touching your soul.

"Great! I can wake up from a dream! I just need to find a way! I am so sick and tired of this nightmare! I'm done! Waking up like now!"

"This is not a dream," he said calmly "you are awake. This is a Waking World"

"Mhm, right." you tried ignoring his invading voice and focusing on the task "whatever you say." you reached out for the handle and opened the balcony window. The cold wind hit your face immediately making your eyes open wide. Your body shivered once you stepped out onto the cold tiles but ignored that "I need to break this dream. If I jump…" you looked down, four floors below concrete was shimmering wet from the recent rain "If I jump, I will break the dream, I will wake up" you stood on the railing.

"What are you doing?" you heard behind your back.

"I'm waking up!" you replied and put one leg on the other side of the railing.

"Stop!" you heard and at the same time, you felt swift movement around you.

In the split of a second, you were back in your bedroom, held firmly by the arms, he was towering over you and for the first time, you could see his face, lid up by the moonlight. It was a beautiful face. His starry eyes were framed by the black feathery lashes and equally black brows, which to your surprise were visibly frowned. His face was elegant, bony, pale white like it was carved from marble stone. His grip on your arms was firm, strong, yet gentle at the same time. Like he was worried that he will hurt you.

"I told you," he began calmly, "this is not a dream".

You slowly started realizing that he was saying the truth. All your instincts were screaming at you with denial but somehow you knew that it was the truth.

"This is literally impossible...how?" you questioned "I saw you," you couldn't take your eyes off his "I saw you in my dreams. You were there. It is not possible"

"I assure you it is" he stated, his grip still firm on your arms.

"But how? Who are you?"

Silence fell between the two of you.

"You are not a demon. The apartment is protected, demon wouldn't be able to get in," you were analyzing out loud, "are you the Devil?"

He chuckled so quietly that you would miss it if your senses wouldn't be so heightened right now.

"Are you the Devil?!" you asked daringly.

"I am not."

"Then who," you stopped for a moment "what are you?"

He released his hold on your arms and with a free hand closed the still open balcony window. From a corner of your eye, you noticed a black raven that was now sitting on your dresser and you could swear that he was observing you.

"You got lost in the Dreaming Y/N" he stated calmly.

"How do you know my name?" you almost whispered.

He was still looking at you, his eyes fixated on you, looking almost through you.

"It's been eons since someone got so lost in the Dreaming," he continued "since someone got to my palace"

"Palace? All I saw was a wasteland, a dying world" you chuckled and immediately regretted that. Sorrow unveiled in his eyes.

"Yes. You are right," he said "There used to be a palace there, but it is in ruin right now"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," you started "it's just me. I have this annoying habit of saying stupid shit when I am nervous"

"But you are not nervous. Not anymore" he stated he's black eyes back on you.

"I am not." you replied "Who are you?" curiosity wouldn't let go of you.

"You are not afraid of me."

"No…" you whispered. "You saved my life."

"It was a life worth saving," he replied and even though his voice was dark and depthless it somehow felt warm, gentle even, it made you smile softly. This strange man from your dreams, the one who you tried to reach for months, he was suddenly standing in your bedroom, and even though all of your instincts were saying that you should be afraid, you were not. Somehow you felt good, you felt safe.

"You got my curiosity Y/N Y/L/N and that did not happen for a very long time" he continued "You do have questions. I will answer them. But not today. Today you will sleep calmly."

"I do not sleep calmly," you replied with a slight smile.

"Tonight you will," he took your hand and led you to your bed. Suddenly you felt very tired like you haven't slept for months. The sleepiness washed over you and you felt drawn to the soft pillow again.

"I always have nightmares…."

"Tonight you won't. I will make sure of that." you felt his hand releasing yours and you started to drift away.

"Wait…" you mumbled barely awake "tell me who you are".

He returned his face to you, his starry eyes meeting yours again, you were almost sure that he smiled with a corner of his lips.

"I am Morpheus. Dream of the Endless. Lord of the Dreams." he replied softly.

"Liar" you smiled and drifted away into the dream.

He stood there for a moment observing your calm and peaceful face.

"Sleep. Tonight you will dream a good dream." he took out his pouch and sprinkled shimmering sand over your sleeping body. "We see each other soon".

~~***~~

Authors note: Well The Sandman completely stole my heart and my dreams (pun intended) so much so that I couldn't help myself but write. So here it is, little fanfic I've committed. I won't promise that I will write a follow-up, but I do have a feeling that I will ;) Dear Reader, I do hope you've enjoyed this little story. Thank you for reading.

Part two: Back in the dream

[wordsinhaled]

if the walls were too thin, you would break right in

-

hob’s first thought when he finds out who his friend is turns out to be: why does dream of the endless look so bloody tired?

his second thought is: oh god, but i’ve dreamt about him.

hob purchases a new blanket for his flat that very week. he drapes it as casually as he can manage over the back of his couch, should dream ever decide to stop by and happen to fall asleep. it’s just thoughtful, isn’t it? never mind that morpheus has never put in an appearance at his flat before. you’re being presumptuous, hob gadling, he tells himself, even as he reads about the best lighting and environmental conditions to promote healthy sleep hygiene, and considers the practicality of switching out all the bulbs in his bedroom.

he does so much research on rest and relaxation that even his dreams start to take place in calmer settings—in five-star spas and tropical wellness retreats and infinitely-more-comfortable versions of his own bedroom. no matter that the real morpheus has never visited one of hob’s dreams, either. and certainly no matter that most of what goes on when hob does envision his own version of morpheus in such idyllic dreamscapes is decidedly far from any definition of rest, and he often wakes guilty and tangled in sweat-damp bedsheets the morning after.

hob is quite adept at convincing himself dream cannot possibly know about those dreams. for his sanity, he supposes.

then one night hob goes to sleep, and dream is there, the real one, in hob’s dream-bedroom, with the lamps turned down low and the essential oil diffuser humming quietly on the bedside table. except... this is a different room, hob realizes. the sheets on this bed are an indulgent sateen, dark and slightly shimmery, like a calm ocean on a moonless night. he thinks he smells the familiar sandalwood base note of his own cologne on the air, blending with something new... neroli, maybe, clean and a little bitter.

“hello, hob.”

dream sits on the edge of the bed, looking at him. there’s a knowledge in that look that reaches down even unto hob’s bones, and hob isn’t sure if the room is very warm, or if he’s just about to combust on the spot.

“fuck,” he says, eloquently.

dream arches one elegant eyebrow, gaze unwavering. “have you not dreamt of this?”

“well—” hob hedges. dares to venture a few steps further into the room. closer to the bed, to dream. “not of this, exactly.”

“i have borrowed nothing. i crafted this dream entirely myself, though i drew on a wish that i believed i sensed in you.” dream purses his lips. “to visit the dreams of a friend without invitation would be more than untoward,” he says, as though reminding hob of an obvious fact.

it seems to hob that he’s on the verge of stepping off of a cliff, a high tightrope, a gangplank. far below him lies terra incognita—treacherous rocks—an abyss—churning waves that will pull him under. the electrifying potential of dream’s full regard tempts him forward. to a fault, hob knows he’s never been able to resist plummeting toward it.

“and do you,” he swallows, his throat abruptly dry, “often conjure up dreams of... romantic bedchambers, then? for your friends?”  

“no,” dream says.  

the simplest of answers, and the exact one he’d been angling at with his question, yet hob still feels dumbstruck by it, his pulse loud and quick in his ears. is this real? no, his mind supplies helpfully, this is a dream.

in a dream, anything can happen.

but hob must stay silent a beat too long, or perhaps time moves differently here. in the space of the next second, dream rises from the bed, flowing to his feet with pantherine grace and coalescing into a long, dark shape at the footboard. “if i sensed wrong...”

is dream about to... how had he put it in 1889? take his leave of hob’s subconscious? hob doesn’t think he could possibly stand it now, here, with all that he longs for near enough to have at last, and without even the recourse of a damp london street to follow dream out to. or maybe the nightmare of those regret-steeped cobblestones lies eternally in wait for hob, just beyond the door of this liminal bedroom.

hob resolves, then and there, that he refuses to find out.

in the dreaming, it’s a matter of one particularly pointed thought for hob to find himself standing in front of dream, near enough to touch, and this time he does what he could never bring himself to do before: he reaches out, carefully, and takes dream’s clenched hands in his—hands as soft as hob has ever thought they might be.

“don’t go,” hob says. “or wouldn’t you like to know how right you were?”

for an eternity dream stares at him, unblinking. hob stares back for another one, determined to wait him out. it works: dream must see something in hob’s face that satisfies him, because he relaxes, by degrees. first his fists uncurl in hob’s grasp; then the taut line of his body unspools; finally, his features shed the last of their tension, and hob sees, once again, the same dream who had settled into the rickety chair across from his at the new inn and said, you may call me dream of the endless...

“i am all eagerness,” dream agrees, low and suddenly quite close, and startlingly earnest.

hob slants a smile at his maddening ancient friend, so long coveted that it’s all hob can do to breathe through the sweet ache of it. “i’d like to kiss you now,” hob says, “if you’d have me.”

“oh, hob gadling.” the way dream looks at him, the plain heat of it, catches in hob’s chest like a flame consuming kindling. “i would have you.”

the moment they kiss, hob thinks he sees, with startling clarity, why dream has been warning him off, all these centuries. hob understands the reason in his marrow, like some primordial truth: there can be no returning from this. no unknowing what dream’s mouth feels like pressed to his, scalding as a brand. no forgetting the single-mindedness of dream’s touch. it’s like hob’s universe shifts, tilts on some new axis, swims a little bit at the edges, and comes back into focus differently.

dream makes a small knowing sound before he draws back, leaving hob inexplicably bereft, as though a part of himself goes missing now whenever their lips don’t touch.

“god, you feel—” like a dream, hob almost says, and the thought makes him huff out a laugh, breathless in disbelief. dream’s eyes are blue no longer but dark, soft with a wash of mirthful stars, bursting with galaxies. fathomless. “—like nothing i could imagine.” and like everything.

“i might say the same of you,” dream murmurs. his voice vibrates through hob, thrums and settles down warm in hob’s belly. there is a flush high on dream’s cheeks, now—a flush, hob thinks with wonder, that he put there; a tell his friend lets him see. it makes dream look almost renewed. hob thinks of the new blanket draped over his couch, back in the waking world. pictures morpheus there in his living room, wrapped up in the blanket, sleep-tousled and well-kissed and lordly as ever.  

then the dreamscape begins to shiver and shudder, to splinter apart into indistinct motes and fragments. the bed, the walls, the floor all fall away into swathes of stardust, until the most solid thing left to hob’s eyes and in his arms is dream. hob tenses. “what’s happening?”

dream smiles, just barely. almost rueful. “you are waking.”

hob understands, then, another truth: it’s going to be a task to drag himself away from this to his black coffee, to his regular tuesday routine. life is always presenting him with new resplendent joys—but how is he to be parted from this one? morpheus twines his long fingers into hob’s hair, clasps the nape of hob’s neck in his cool palms like hob is something precious to him, like he can hold him here a moment longer.

maybe he can, hob’s king of dreams.

"dream,” hob says, willing the insistent tug of consciousness away with all the considerable obstinacy he possesses. “if i’m to wait another hundred years—”

and then hob is in his bed—his actual bed—blinking away the bright mid-morning sun filtering through the curtains, his next words sticking in his throat unspoken. hob turns his face into his pillow, utterly disoriented, and finds the faint scent of neroli lingering there like a gift. the sense-memory is instant, jolting through him, pinning him there in his sheets, relentless as dream himself.

kiss me again, he’d been about to say, a hundred times. a thousand.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Tag list: @mess-in-side @mar-de-seentimientos

Johanna has come to terms that her existence was the textbook definition of a curse of the highest degree; seeing as how everyone she ever gave a rats arse about ended up either dead or dragged to hell. Rachel and Astra were unfortunate examples of such that one shouldn’t be surprised when being held at arms length when within the exorcists presence.

This naturally lead to her becoming guarded and isolated from ever aspect of human companionship in favour of overworking herself into a routine where the only availability she had was when the towns were dead asleep and the street lamps were the only thing to keep one company. It’s not that it was any fault of her own, no, she didn’t ask for this for Christmas as a kid…well as clear as she could remember asking anything for Christmas as a kid anyways. Not when plagued with failure after failure of trying to keep those out of harms way that haunted her waking life as much as her sleeping one.

Johanna had to train herself into the mindset that she was better off alone, that the mess of her room was all the company she would ever need in life even as her heart yearned for something more then what she gives herself. The yearning of another human. It was a silent wish she’d unknowingly make every night with a desperation for it to one day come true. Johanna knew she needed someone but always gaslight herself into believing that wasn’t the case at all and that all she needed was a one night stand to compose her needs to a comprisable level.

So when you came into the picture, Johanna immediately was on the defensive, acting her most snippiest and bitchiest self in hopes that it would scare you away from her and untether your fate from hers for the sake of your safety. Yet you never did and it annoyed her sometimes because she was trying to keep you away from an indescribable death and here you stayed by her side even when she’d curse you out, slam doors in your face and worse.

She felt like shit for how she’s treated you. She knew you mean well and you were a wish came true for her that she was half tempted to call upon Morpheus and ask if you were his doing but doubted it as the lord or dreams didn’t seem that willingly giving unless it was a transactional exchange. A ‘I scratch your back and you scratch mine’ type of ordeal. So he was out of the lineup of suspects and sadly for Johanna he was her only suspect thanks to her bristle attitude.

Afterwards she assumed that you’ve somehow bewitched her into growing accommodated by your presence but would later scold herself for even indulging such fairytale bollocks in the first place. Sure you were enchanting enough to have some magical power over her but it still wouldn’t have made any sense to assume otherwise.

Sooner or later she would slowly become more appealed by the aspect of having someone within her life that was as stubborn as a stain upon a linen. She grew warm within your company and the playful banter would immediately kick in as though it was second nature for Johanna. Stupid conversations would also be a tradition between the two of you because there’s never been a moment where you’ve haven’t taken the time in taking the piss out of one another for something stupid either of you did whether it’d be before you met or sometime after you’ve broken down her walls.

Johanna would soon grow protective of you as a form of a silent thanks for not giving up on her even during her worst moments as it has made you privy to some side of her that even Johanna had thought were long dead and buried. She really didn’t know what life would’ve been like had you did give up on her like so many others from her past. She never meant to abandon them but it was for their protection even as her heart pleaded for more time with those she loved before disappearing like a ghost for long periods of time.

However with you she felt the safest she’s ever been in her life, even if it was temporary. She’d savour every last moment she had with you until her memories were no longer haunting of the past and were now cleansed with visions of a potential future with you where the skies never looked clearer. Yet she wished she was given enough time to tell you that as she looked as your unconscious and bloodied body.

[web-spinning]

oh my god that was fantastic- tysm !! I would absolutely love a part two, if that’s not too much trouble !

A / N - Two people wanted this, so I made it. It's a bit short, but you will see why. I feel cruel for making it end like this...well, hope you and the other person like it!

This image is how Demo is going to look like for the next several months after this ends.

Demoman founding a kid at base and taking care of them- Part 2.

TW. Slight angst.

- And then, the father frost apologized to the mushroom man, and they've lived in peace ever since.- The man's soothing voice filled the door.

You closed your eyes, half asleep already. It's been some weeks since you've found yourself in this base, surrounded by these strange men. You've learned to like them in their own way. But you didn't like staying alone with them, without your caretaker. You learned they call him Demoman. He seemed to be very laid back around them, and always so nice and calm towards you. The attention and care he was giving you made you feel a bit more important, in this world where nothing mattered anymore. You were given a small room, with only a bed and a cardboard next to it, on which there was placed a small lamp. It was little, but just enough at the same time.

You were about to fall into the sweet arms of Morpheus, but suddenly, the door of the small room opened.

- Pauling is here.- A voice from them called. It made you open your eyes, and look at the man that was just reading you a story.

- Now? I am readin' them a story.- He said, looking at the other man.

- She needs to go quickly. Are you giving the child or not?- The man continued.

- I...- The cyclop began, looking down at you.- Of course.

He moved up from crouching beside your bed, and put the book on the cardboard.

- Sorry little bud, but ya have to wake up.- He continued. You blinked, also standing up from your bed.

- Ya should put on different clothes, can't go there with a pijama...

- There's no time, Demo.- The other man said, looking over at the man. You stood up from the bed, and looked at both the men.

Without thinking, you placed your hand in the Scot's much bigger hand, and looked at him.

- What's happening?- You asked him.

- Nothing, laddie.- He said, tightening the grip on your hand. His voice seemed sad. In a slow movement, he began to move, and you followed him.

He was marching towards the exit of the base, until you both stood outside. Before you stood a small truck. Leaning on it's front, stood a woman in a long, purple dress. She had very pale skin, glasses and dark hair. She seemed annoyed with the younger man standing before her, the one you were told was called Scout. Out of the blue, she looked towards you, and her face lit up.

- Finally, I can go! Thanks Demo, I will take care of them.- She said, approaching you both. Now you were gripping the cyclop's hand for dear life. But instead of accepting your grip, he let go of your hand. You looked up at him, and he only gave you a sad smile.

- Ya gotta go, laddie.- He said. You were confused...and scared. Whoever this woman was, she didn't seem as nice as Demo was. She quickly approached you, taking your hand in hers. Her hands were strong, too strong for you to protest. She began dragging you towards her truck, as you squirmed in protest.

- No, no, no...- You cried out. You didn't want to go. You stood your ground, and with force, you let go of her hand. She looked at you, and sighed.

- Listen, this is what's good for you.- She spoke calmly. It all sounded like a lie.

- Scout? I need help.- She continued, looking at the man next to the car. He quickly walked your way, looking at her in confusion.

- Please put them in the car.- With one slight command of hers, he lifted you off the ground.

- Sorry buddy, it's not safe here.- He said to you, slowly walking towards the truck. You looked behind the shoulder at the man who used to take care of you. Some tears situated in his only functioning eye as he looked at you.

- DEMOMAN!- You cried out to him. He didn't move, the tears now streaming down his cheek. He was going to miss you...but he knew it was the best for you tho. 

[rose-9906]

Finding Dream

Chapter Three - The Visits

Words - 983

Notes - Hope you Enjoy. :)

Photo Credit To Owner

It’s been almost a week since I awoke from my supposed coma, and I’m slowly remembering certain things, like where my previous apartment was and where I worked. I had a dog/cat named [Pet’s Name]. I was on my way to my mother’s funeral, and was running late, which is why I didn't have my license, why I was speeding, why I was almost killed, and why I was all alone. My mother was my last relative alive. So all my stuff was gone, [Pet’s Name] was gone. Everything and everyone was gone. I still don’t remember everything, like I didn't remember how old I was or my middle name until they told me. I am slowly learning to walk and chew again, and I’m allowed to roam the hospital. My savings is covering everything so far, and I got things like my ID/drivers license, and bank account information back. I don’t know exactly what's going to happen to me yet. How am I going to be able to get an apartment or job?  I’m currently ignoring all of these problems and eating a cup of jello in my hospital room, while reading a book. All of a sudden a shadow appears in front of me, and a dark figure is standing there. “Hello?” I call out in a shaky voice.

“[Name], I’ve found you, at last, you can come home now” The figure moves closer, stepping into the faint light of the lamp beside my bed. 

“Morpheus?” I question, “No, you were-are a dream. This is all in my head. How-How are you-” He cuts me off.

“My love, While I am dream I am most certainly real. Who has told you all of this?” He holds his hand up to hold my face but puts it back down when I flinch away.

“No, I’m recovering, you shouldn’t be here.” I say. My mind is starting to question what's real and what is not. Before I can ask, Morpheus is surrounded by some kind of magic. The last thing I hear from him is a faint “No” before he is completely gone. “Morpheus?” I look around, almost expecting him to be somewhere else in the room, but he is nowhere to be found. “See,” I say to myself, “you are recovering.”

—-------

It’s been so long since that night. I’ve learned that I don't grow old, I’m basically immortal. One of my neighbors comes by every so often with a basket, usually full of treats or flowers. I don’t think I ever learned her name now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve moved into a nice little cottage and have a job at a library in a small town. I’ve also been writing in my spare time, I’ve never shared my stories with anyone though. My cottage is on the edge of the forest, surrounded by many, many flowers. I like to go for long walks in the woods to help clear my head and give me ideas. Sometimes I’ll bring my notebook or my laptop to write things that pop into my head. Today I’m strolling through the woods, on the usual path, when a faint memory comes back to me. I’m struggling to remember if it really happened or not. It’s from when I was in the hospital, there was a man. He was dressed in all black, you could see the whole galaxy in his eyes. His coat seemed to float around him, as if it wasn't really a coat at all. He was trying to tell me something… Oh well, it was probably just a part of my imagination. I come upon an old tree in a small clearing. It’s a willow tree, and it has resided here as long as I can remember. I duck down under its branches and sit against its trunk. I pull my laptop from my basket, along with my bottle of water and  small apple pastry. I pull up a blank document and begin to write. I write wonderful stories about a girl, living in a castle with a strange man. She loves him very much, and they talk very little in each other's presence. They live in unison, like they are meant to be together, like they are soulmates, each from a different star, so far yet so close. The more I write, the more I come up with. The words flow through my mind as if they were always there. Like I had really lived this and I was just waking up from a coma. Wouldn't that be ironic, I think to myself, I was in a coma. I slowly start to drift off into my imagination and without realizing it I have fallen asleep. I’m leaning against something, or someone. I inch closer, not wanting to break the contact. I look out, I’m still in the same spot under the willow tree, but something feels different, off. I look to my side, where I see a man. He is wearing all black, ang looks like he hasn't slept in ages. “Dream?” I say, looking into the tall figures eyes

“I’m sorry my love, I cannot stay, but I will be back for you, I promise.” He holds my chin up with his fingers. They feel cold, like they’ve come out of a freezer, awaiting something warm. I slowly reach up and lightly wrap my hands around his. I hold both his hands in my lap, trying my best to keep as much warmth on them as I can. He looks in my eyes for a moment before leaning over and giving me a slow, warm kiss. His lips are cold, yet he makes me feel so warm.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” and with that, he's gone. And now is when I start to question, have I been recovering from a coma, or have I been in one?

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams Part XXII.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @vampgf

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, oral receiving (AFAB).

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Hello there dearest readers. I must confess, I got a wee bit carried away with writing this chapter and it somehow turned into a 3k+ unwieldy monster so I've split it into two parts. I've also never published smut before so I'm a little nervy. Hope you enjoy. All my love, Saskia ❤️  

Sandman Masterlist

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The next few hours sees Morpheus re-write your understanding of the word pleasure.

The story begins from the moment he takes your outstretched hand and allows you to lead him up the stairs.

There are still rays of sun trickling in however, you shut them out with your curtains and opt for the light of your lamp. Under no circumstances are you going to risk your neighbours seeing through your bedroom window.

As you flick the light switch, the reality of the situation announces itself with a bellowing fanfare.

You and Morpheus have just been reunited after months apart and are acting on desires that have been developing for longer still. You had suppressed the physical attraction, determined to be friends. And now you’re in your room on the precipice of crossing the friendship boundary entirely. All it had taken was a confession and a kiss.

You wanted him badly.

So much for resolve.

You turn to look at him. He stands with a perfect posture, his arms relaxed at his sides, messy hair all but begging to be touched. He is grace and beauty. Ethereal.

You toy with your sleeve in a display of unease. 

Morpheus speaks your name as he looks to your jittery action.

“Nerves,” you explain meekly.

“I understand. I feel the same.”

He takes both your hands in his own. “I will not do anything without your consent. Every time. You are safe with me.”

“I know,” Your heart aches from his anxious admission and caring declaration. “You are safe with me too.”

He smiles.

The reaction, with his kiss-swollen lips and ocean eyes pouring with adulation has you melting. You care so deeply for him and your need to demonstrate it is irresistible.

You stand on tip toe to press a kiss to his cheek.

When you are settled back on to the soles of your feet, Morpheus asks a question that causes your cheeks to fill with red.

“Where would you like me to touch you?”

You opt for an answer that you actually feel able to voice. “I – I like having my neck and shoulders kissed.”

He bends his head to speak softly next to your ear. "Then we shall start there."

His lips find your pulse point. A sigh falls from your mouth and you tilt your head back involuntarily. Morpheus kisses you more before replicating the wonderful attention on the other side.

He moves the collar of your jumper to kiss the hollow of your throat. You are then grabbing the bottom of the article to remove it. The black fabric of your camisole contrasts against the white of your bra. You go to pull the straps down.

“Allow me,” Morpheus offers.

You pause. "Okay."

He hooks his cool fingers under both sets and eases them downwards to leave the skin of your shoulders completely uninterrupted.

His knuckles graze across your collarbones and you shudder. He kisses your neck again and then your newly exposed skin. You are weak with delight, breathing deeply.

He pulls back to check in with you. His blue-green eyes dance with vivacity and you know yours are doing the same.

Taking advantage of the lull, you guide his face down so you can press your lips to his again. The resulting kiss is fire, one that stokes the blaze in between your legs to the point of desperation. You moan for the first time as your tongues meet.

His taste is incredible. Delicate and natural and clean. Like botanicals mixed with spring water.

When you pull away, you are feeling dizzy and delirious; securing your hands firmly on Morpheus’ slight waist for stability.

“Y/N,” he utters with a deep timbre as he regards your blissed out expression.

In your lustful state, the sound of his voice alone is enough for you; shivers ripple from the crown of your head down to your feet. Morpheus notices this.

“You like the way I speak, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you are coy. “Yes.”

He nods. "Good. I will ensure that I keep speaking to you.”

"Oh, and what are you going to say to me next?"

He smirks. "I believe that you are wearing too many clothes."

You hum flirtatiously, your confidence spiking. With assured fingers, you begin to unbutton your jeans. You strip down to your underwear and feel a torrent of goose bumps raise.

Morpheus’ gaze roams up and down your almost naked frame. A blush much more significant than the one he created earlier tints the upper quarter of your body. You close your eyes to steady the yearning coursing through you.

Even with your sense of sight temporarily paused, you can tell exactly where he is in proximity to you. His presence is ubiquitous. It’s in the air that sparks and vibrates around you. Skims across your skin. Flows in your blood. You are linked to each other now.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

He comes closer and kisses you feverishly. You thread your fingers into his silken hair and he sighs.

You like that he is vocalising his enjoyment. For someone so quiet and subdued, you knew it meant true pleasure.

"I would like to see more of you," he says.

You unclasp your bra and let it drop to the floor but subconsciously cover your chest with your forearms.

"Do you not wish for me to touch you there?" He queries.

It takes you a second to understand. "Oh. They're just very sensitive. Everyone who has touched them in the past, they were too rough and it hurt."

He cradles your face with a large hand.

"Y/N, I am Endless. My experience goes way beyond that of the humans you have lain with."

You consider his statement; anyone else would have sounded egotistical or invoked a sense of inferiority yet it is reassuring coming from Morpheus. He is centuries old. It isn’t unexpected that he would have skill.

"Would you stop if I needed you to?"

"You are in control. All you have to do is say no and I will stop."

"You promise?"

"You have my word. My entire focus is with you."

An interlude of contemplation passes. You lower your arms.

He comes to stand behind you and covers your neck with slow and sensual kisses. Your nervous anticipation stills for a moment.

"I'm going to touch you with my hands now."

You nod.

His hands run up and down your sides, ghosting the skin beside your breasts. He then makes to cup them. You jump a little and he withdraws.

"Do you need me to stop?"

"Keep going," you say with determination.

He puts his arms back around you. The movement is considered. He is respecting you completely and you adore him for it.

You lean forward the last few millimetres and press yourself into his cool palms.

It feels surprisingly pleasant. You exhale. He massages you. You tremble with pleasure.

"Would you like more?"

"Yes."

With a feather-like touch, he brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple. You gasp.

"More, please," you request. “Kiss me.”

Morpheus sits on the edge of your bed and positions you to stand between his legs. He bends forward, maintaining eye contact to ensure that you are and remain okay. Your breathing is ragged even before he makes contact.

His lips part and he is smothering you with his soft, wet mouth. And then he lightly sucks. Your head falls backwards. You call his name loudly. He brings his fingers up to stroke your other nipple.

You feel your arousal pooling.

Never before had someone been able to make you feel so good from this kind of touching.

The experience lasts a maximum of thirty seconds; Morpheus clearly taking on board your sensitivity and not wanting to over stimulate you.

After, he sits you on his lap and caresses your face as you decompress.

“You are okay?” He asks caringly.

“Yes, thank you for being so patient with me.”

“You are most welcome,” he replies.

You tip your head to the side, suddenly deep in thought.

“What are you thinking?” He asks.

“I am thinking that you are rather overdressed compared to me.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I do believe you’re right,” he murmurs while looking at your chest.

You dismount him and perch on the mattress. You watch him walk to your chair. He gracefully slips off his overcoat and drapes it over the green velvet upholstery, leaving him in a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He removes them with precision, along with his boots.

The second he sheds the final layer sees you stunned into silence.

Morpheus is a dichotomy of slender and toned. Subtle sinew cords its way across his torso and down his limbs in a way that suggests a whisper of strength rather than a shout. His skin is hairless and unmarked, and almost glows in the low light of your lamp. He is well-endowed too, you note quickly and bashfully.

His body is so absolutely otherworldly and like his face, stunning to behold.

You look to said face now; it is impassive yet his eyes are glassy with vulnerability.

You are on your feet, approaching him cautiously, all too aware that this is the first time he has ever let you see past his physical armour and worried that maybe you were causing him discomfort from your stares.

“You’re perfect.”

Morpheus looks down and closes his eyes.

“Can I hold you?” Your voice wobbles slightly. Seeing him like this affects you greatly.

He nods, sinking into your offered embrace. Skin on skin, you feel his energy thrumming just under the surface, reiterating his unearthly identity. You cradle him, stroking the back of his head for many minutes until you feel him adjust to his exposedness.

He straightens, conviction returning. You pull back, pressing your palms against the porcelain skin of his chest.

“I want to kiss you between your legs,” he intones unexpectedly.

“Okay.”

He crouches a little, grasps under your thighs and lifts you clean off the ground. He lays you down on the bed with your legs hanging over the edge. He traces the waistband of your underwear. He opens his mouth to ask for consent but you give permission by elevating your hips. He eases the garment down with his cool fingers.

"You are exquisite," he breathes, looking down at your body.

His voice has you pulsing in your core.

Morpheus kneels. He nudges your knees open.

"Please," you plead, squirming with need.

He parts your labia and dips his head. You groan as he makes contact. It's initially tentative but soon he is alternating between sinful suckling and soothing laps of his tongue.

He then teases your opening, nose bumping into your most sensitive spot as he does so.

His eyes are alert, taking note of every gasp, every movement you make. Learning your body. Cataloguing your reactions for the present and future intimacy.

You watch him with a wide, non-believing gaze. You cannot fathom the pleasure coursing through you. You feel yourself gush from it.

From your time spent together in the Dreaming, watching him selflessly take care of his realm, his citizens and his dreamers, you had known that Morpheus had a giving nature but you had never contemplated the extent of it beyond his purpose. The way he is attending to your needs, however, proves he is without doubt, a giver in the bedroom too.

And he was giving everything to you.

All thoughts of his charity are promptly banished from your brain as Morpheus pushes his tongue inside you and puts a thumb down to rub on your clit.

Your hips buck and he has to steady you with his hands. The contrast between languid swirls and targeted pressure scrambles your brain.

You come within the next minute, ecstasy igniting every nerve until you are nothing but a trembling, moaning mess of a being.

He strokes your quivering calves and thighs as you work to find coherent thoughts again.

You sit up once you are strong enough. “Your turn.”

He shakes his head.

“But-”

“There will be other times for that, I can assure you, but right now I need to be inside you.”

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

"I'm open wide. I want to take you home. We'll waste some time. You're the only one for me."

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[lemongams-blog]

Butterfly

Part1

2eyes for free

-I am a cold corpse , but I am alive while your heart is beating in my hands-a man who does not know the word "No"told me

two thousand five

The crackling of the chains makes me shudder, a dark veil wrapped around my eyes and did not allow the light of the lamp to break through it. My legs were already numb from the cold, and my hands were wandering around the chain trying to find a way to remove the shackles. Losing track of time, I tried to fall asleep , but the chains wouldn't let me fall to the floor. The pads of my fingers felt a soft palace inviting me to lie down. The girl smiled in all her thirty-two teeth.

- No matter how long I stood here , no matter how much I thought about my situation... okay, I lost my train of thought, I know that asking to let me out would be stupid ,but if you don't do this, you will live much less ~boys. My beloved is already thinking how to get me out of this hole - after finishing her monologue, she tried to take off her mask by shaking her head. There was silence in the entire complex, even the guards were already snoring in the observation room, the world somehow froze in anticipation of something.It is not every day that such a big shot of the mafia world is in prison, the guards did not even suspect what her betrothed could do to them. But four days had already passed since her capture, and the girl herself understood that he would not come, hope was slowly leaving her. Her legs were weak, and her stomach was greedily moaning in search of food, she was not fed from the word at all, huge bags under her eyes that were hidden by a mask on a penny prevented the view of the room where she was. Hour after hour went by, it seemed that she was already going crazy already hearing distant drops of water that were somehow approaching her. Rustles and sobs began to come closer and closer.

"I've read your file, it's an interesting story. You know, I would take off this bdsm mask, but on the condition that you don't twist your face - a child's sonorous voice filled the camera . It seemed to cut the soul and made the girl shiver from the chill of the young person's breath. Her cold fingers touched the girl's face and gently removed the annoying mask. A tired, bruised face was hidden under it. A burning cold light cut into her eyes and she squinted. Gradually, she began to get used to the light and what she saw led her into shock.

-What are you ...?- this is the first thing she said looking at her "girlfriend". There was a black substance in the corner , it flowed and flowed into itself, red eyes peeked out of it that looked into the girl's soul , but this is not the most frightening thing.

- This is not the way to get acquainted with Sheren!- the girl said indignantly, Sheren immediately turned her head to the source of the sound , as it turned out she was melting on the ceiling. The girl's eyes opened and began to vomit from the picture that was in front of her. There was a girl standing on the ceiling in front, but if everything was so simple, her whole body was howling in seams, when they were picking it up, parasites and insects peeked out of it, and a sinister smile was on her face.The eyes , or rather their absence, frightened Sheren even more. After throwing up bile, she looked at the girl with horror.

-Well, how so, okay, I'm asking you for such a boorish greeting. My name is Sophie, S O F I, but for you I am the "Key of Salvation", an indefinite promotion by the way! Sophie was getting closer to Sheren, but the more they were together, the less it calmed her.

- So-fi means, it is clear. Okay, I'll leave out the fact that you're a zombie of local tailoring. Honestly, I need to get out, and you know it, so what do you want from me ? Sheren tried not to show her fear , but she still looked like a frightened hare.

- Oh, you're already talking, not bad. I just need ... your eyes ~ Sophie was not joking and was serious in her intentions

- What eyes ! But what is the point of the exchange if I go blind and then I will not be of any use - The girl was indignant at such a proposal

- I think it's not so simple , everything has a price and your eyes, too, heh~ I'll give you some of my strength, and I'll help you get out, and you, dear, will give your two eyes. You know, I think that your brown eye color would suit me ~ The girl spoke sweetly with her soft voice like a snake that gives an imaginary choice. She was ready to forcefully take her eyes away, but something held her back. Sophie saw her key in Sheren, but what is it for?

"Don't take me for a 'trusting brat', but I don't have much choice. And time, too, in fact, if I remain sighted, then I agree to your proposal, do everything that I would come out, stay alive , sighted - a sudden courage made Sophie break into a smile and she began to fulfill the contract. Sheren was still chained up and it would be good in this situation. The girl approached the face , her thin fingers parted the eyelids and gently penetrated behind the eyeball. Sheren began to feel a hellish devouring pain, and Sophie took out her eyeball from which a yellow substance was oozing. The girl inserted it into the eye socket and reached for the second one. Through these hellish torments, Sheren no longer thought about how to get out , she thought about how to survive. Her scream filled the entire building, and Sophie, inserting her eyes, began to fill the girl with a black substance through her eye sockets and her mind went out, she was twitching from spasms. The substance was fiery-hot and explored the flesh. Clenching her jaw until it creaked, and in the same second she opened her mouth, a wave with eyes that were bleeding poured out of it. Sheren lost consciousness.

And the heart ceased to exist in this fragile body.

Our days

Bright lights illuminated the night town, all living beings were returning home in a hurry to get to the kingdom of Morpheus as soon as possible. The children were waiting for the weekend, and the adults were thinking about how to start a new week. The hum of cars filled the city with special music, life flowed as usual. An imposing, tall man strolled around the town listening and feeling the hasty rhythm of life , but he had his own rhythm. He was not interested in the flow of other people, the noise and bustle did not attract his attention. Turning into an alley, he drew attention to the following picture : two teenagers were pinning a girl to the wall , they had their own not sophisticated plans for a young person. The man took out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his raincoat , took out one and lit it, the acrid smoke began to fill the alley with the aroma of young roses.

- Hey, what's up ? Get the fuck out of here ! We don't want to be next, " one of the guys said. The man simply smiled and walked towards him. The uncle was much taller than the two brats and their show-offs only amused him.

- what? Say it to my face again, or I can't catch your mosquito squeak, baby~ The man took both boys by the scruff of the neck , and the girl at that moment rushed to the leak. He wasn't going to be a hero or anything like that, he has his own goals. It seemed that he was holding two small dogs, and not people who a minute ago tried to rape a girl. After dropping them, he lifted his wide-brimmed felt hat, an empty face emerged from under it, only a wide grin. White snakes began to crawl out from behind, they rushed after one of the guys and grabbed him by the leg, not letting him escape , the second lost consciousness due to shock. It wasn't good for the monster , but at least he wouldn't scream. The first kid tried to pull away from the monster and find a way to get out of the tenacious fetters.

- Well, let's see how wide your ass will stretch - with a sneer, the monster approached his face and his cry dissipated in the dark.