#dear lucienne

[dearlucienne]

𝐿𝑢𝑛𝑒,

I am trying to write this approximately five minutes before your birthday, and I am at a loss for words. You were the one to teach me grief in its crippling, honest truth, and just as well, the one to teach we that love endures despite.

There are days, terrifying hours, when I am convinced I made you up. I see you constantly diffused in this halo of sunlight, this haze around you, warmth through you, and I would know with haunting certainty that there will be days when I won't be able to reach you, that to love you is to simply wait for you. I am trying to make peace with that.

All has been said and done between you and I, truths that are made absolute in our stubborness, love that has weathered many storms. But you and I, we persist because light will always seep through the cracks no matter what. Or, as long as that line between us stays.

Happiest birthday, 𝐿𝑢𝑛𝑒. May the days be kinder, may your heart be cradled by gentler seasons.

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠. ✉ 𝑀𝑖𝑎

[grapecaseschoices]

For the OC dating game (but no pressure to answer ^^), Rhiann: usually bright and bubbly. Loves to bake and to be around people. She's often chaotic and easily distracted but can be very determined about things/people she cares about. Can turn very angry very quickly, mainly when confronted with her insecurities about not being capable enough. Looks wise: average height, long hair, curvy

Kaylee Moyano (she/her) is 5'8 with just beyond shoulder length black hair, not that it matters as it is often sleeked back into a high pony tail or a bun (unless she's Fun Time Kaylee but she doesn't get to do that as much). She's slim bordering on thin

Kaylee is essentially the mom!friend (and also had to be both parents, in a sense, to her younger sibling) and a former business major turned local celebrity. And her focus is baking. So, it could go either way, Rhiann could feel encouraged or inferior in the face of Kaylee. However, Kaylee is used to managing volatile tempers and people's insecurities. It's also a bit of an issue for Kaylee because she's often the one who bares, the one who takes care -- and that can be her own insecurity (and issue, how often she lives her life for others). But maybe Rhiann's determination and support can push her out of that?

That's part of why I feel they'd be interesting together, because they sorta step on each other's issues but there's also the potential to grow beyond that if they communicate with each other. So, they could either hurt each other or grow together/uplifting each other. IDK. I love that they could be fluffy but with this very visual angst.

That said, though Kaylee is clearly more structured and focused, she's very quirky (I call her style Ms. Frizzle but sexy) They're both social people who enjoy their way around an one.

Thank you for introing me to Rhiann @serenpedac

put a description of your oc in my inbox, and i’ll tell you which of my ocs would date them

[kydrogendragon]

"And here we go, Robert Gadling gets ready for his third shot at the pole vault tonight," the announcers call out. Robyn and Orpheus sit on the couch at the Walker's, eyes glued to the television set. Rose, Jed, and Lyta crowd around the living room along with Lucienne and Jessamy and Matthew and even Jo and Rachel. Everyone had come over for the watch party.

"And here he goes. He needs to beat Sam Kendricks's score by at least three tenths if he wants to get a spot on that podium tonight. When we saw him back in Tokyo, he earned himself a silver medal. Let's see if he can earn himself a gold tonight."

Robyn leans closer. He grips the edge of the couch, eyes wide as his father takes a breath and races forward, pole in hand.

"And here he goes! Strong start there, good grip on that pole. Distance is looking good, maybe a bit short and oh!"

Their dad plants the pole down and thrusts himself up, up, up! He curves around the upper bar and...he hits it. He comes falling down, pole and bar alike as he crashes down onto the mat. Robyn deflates.

"Oh. Oh dear. I—" the announcer laughs. "Well, that's just unfortunate. Let's play that back. So you can see here—" the footage pauses as their dad's feet just begin to tip over the upper bar. "—he's got plenty of room here, lots of space up above. Robert is known for his strength and his ability to get good vertical height above that bar. But as he comes down—" the footage continues in slow motion. Their dad curls over the other side of the bar like they've seen him do hundreds of times before. It slows down until it stops right when he hits the bar. Matthew squacks.

"Oh my god!" Rose laughs.

"Oh, he is never living this down," Aunt Jo pipes off.

"So you can—" Even the announcer laughs again. "You can see where he hits the bar. And it's-it's really unfortunate because everything else about this vault was nearly perfect. But it looks like his, uh. Well. His lower half got a bit in the way there."

The camera cuts to their dad standing up from the mat, wincing as he gets to his feet. And then it cuts to Papa in the stands. He's doubled over, whole body shaking, and Robyn knows immediately that he's cracking up.

"Did dad really just hit the bar with his dick?" Robyn asks.

"Robyn!" Lyta cries.

"What! That's what happened, right?"

Jessamy chuckles before patting his head. "Yes, starling. Make sure to tease him about it tonight, okay?"

"There's definitely worse problems to have in life," Matthew laughs.

"Well, I can see now why Dream married him," Lucienne says.

"Please stop talking, I don't want to think about my cousin's junk, please and thank you," chimes Jo.

Orpheus turns to Robyn, frowning. "Dad's not getting a medal, huh?"

Robyn sighs. "No. I don't think so. Maybe in one of the other events, though."

"Hm. That's true."

The camera cuts to their dad, where he's standing at the stands in front of their papa. Dream's face is red from laughter, and even now, he's still giggling. Hob's laughing now, too, pressing a kiss to his lips. Hob whispers something to Dream, who bursts out laughing once more.

"Well, at least he seems to be in good spirits," the commentator says.

"As does his husband," the other chimes.

"Unfortunately for team GB, we won't be seeing any medals out of this event. Let's head over to the Men's Vault now."

"I cannot believe this is how you will be remembered, husband mine," Dream says, running his hand down Hob's chest. They're back at his hotel room, away from the villa for the night, much to Hob's pleasure. Those beds sucked.

"Don't remind me. My damn dick still hurts from that thing. I can't believe that happened. Christ." Dream chuckles, pressing a kiss to his jaw

"Well. Now everyone will know just how...well endowed you are. And how lucky I am to call you mine."

Hob shakes his head with a smile. "Guess you're the real winner from all this, aren't you?"

"If I have you? Then I always am."

Hob wakes up to exactly 46 messages from friends and family and co-workers alike, all commenting on his "performance" last night. Half sent him links to various articles, all labeled something along the lines of "Olympic Athlete Betrayed by his Penis."

Dream nearly pulls a stomach muscle from laughing so hard.

[roguelov]

OKAY BUT IMAGINE;

Becoming Morpheus's safe space or his emotional support human. Like one day you're walking through the Dreaming and you find Morpheus, who is completely overwhelmed with his feelings and is hiding from everyone. So you, who has been completely nervous and a little intimidated by him bc he's literally an Endless, go up to him and hug him without hesitation. You comfort him without asking any questions or trying to get him to talk about it. You just let him feel with no judgement.

Que to like maybe a couple weeks or months later where Morpheus just constantly seeks out your touch for comfort. Like will literally cross a whole room just to touch you no matter whoever is there or wherever you two are. He just automatically relaxs at the touch and he also like to see the light blush that appears on your face because despite how normal the touching is by now, he still makes you nervous in a butterflies in the stomach type of way.

OH MY GOD MY HEART IS MELTING AT THIS I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS UNTIL YOU SAID IT

You were in the library assisting Lucienne with reorganizing all the new books. The two of you were talking about anything and everything. It was calm, and enjoyable.

Until such a peace was interrupted.

Hasty footsteps cut through your melodic conversation. You both turned your head to find Morpheus marching through the library. His eyes determined and somewhat harsh as each of his steps were filled with a near righteous purpose. He seemed to be on some personal - and dare you say important - mission. As if, he was trying to locate something, or someone.

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. Instantly, he beelined it directly towards you. Once within your grasp, he hugged you from behind.

Someone. He was trying to find someone, and that being you.

You tensed up, feeling your heart skip. His arms tightened around your waist as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder. He let out a deep long heavy exhale as some internal weight lifted off of him.

Lucienne bit back a smile. You glanced at her with wide eyes, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. She knew of your small crush on the Endless, a secret she swore to keep. “I will finish later, there are other things I must do,” she said with a slight playfulness in her voice.

You wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but all those words died on your lips. Once she disappeared from sight, you let out a small sigh. She will give you grief later.

“Apologies,” Morpheus murmured, still clinging to you. You tensed at the soft hypnotic timbre of his voice. “It has been a … difficult morning.”

With each passing second, the stress continued to melt off of him. How could one hug, one touch from you, calm him so immensely?

“It’s ok,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Just took me a bit off guard.”

“Should I -“ he slowly removed his arms.

“No,” you blurted out. “It’s fine, really. You just looked so … so … angry earlier, I didn’t know what you were going to do.”

Morpheus sighed, returning his arms around you grateful for it. “Again, I am sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Please you don’t have to apologize. If I can bring you any kind of comfort then I’m happy to help.”

His arms gave you a small squeeze, almost as if in a silent thank you. “You truly are a wonder to behold,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered at his touching words. “How so,” you asked with a giddy smile as you placed your hands over top of his.

“You can always calm my chaotic emotions.”

You turned your head slightly to peer at him from the corner of your eye. All you saw was his messy ruffled hair. You leaned your head towards his, and lovingly rest it against his. “Always happy to help,” you whispered softly into his hair.

Morpheus was thankful to have hid his face, for he knew if you looked at him you could see his unspoken love for you. A mortal who went from stranger to confidante. His dear mortal whose words and touch can assuage any turmoil within him. His infatuation that held his heart in a way he could not comprehend. His love who he hoped would stay by his side when he gathered the courage to ask.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

Thank you for everything.

“Of course, I’m always here for you,” you hummed.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter One

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Masterlist | Next

You awaken to the familiar yet deteriorating landscape of the Dreaming. For years, your narcolepsy has transported you daily into this realm—a realm that, despite its barrenness and brokenness, has become your sanctuary. The muted grays and browns are beautiful to you, in a special way, but you know that the true majesty of the realm cannot emerge without its master, Dream. A being you've never met and only heard stories of. Yet, despite its decay, you have forged friendships here, finding solace among its inhabitants.

You walk through the desolate meadow, the grass crunching underfoot like dried paper. The sky is a dull, oppressive gray, reflecting the sea of sand and rock that neighbors the palace ruins. Your destination is the Library, a place that has barely managed to retain some semblance of order thanks to Lucienne’s tireless efforts. As you approach the grand, time-worn doors of the library, you feel a pang of sorrow for the state of this once magnificent realm.

“Lucienne?” you call out, your voice echoing through the cavernous hall as you step inside.

From behind a towering stack of books, Lucienne appears, her face lighting up with a weary smile when she sees you. “Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would pop up. How are you today?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s hard to see the Dreaming like this. It feels like a part of me is withering along with it and it was already withering to begin with.”

Lucienne nods, her expression somber. “We all feel it. The absence of Lord Morpheus has taken a toll on this realm. But we must hold on to hope. Things may yet change.”

"It's been over a century, Luce," You point out, "I've been visiting for at least a decade and we've never seen hide nor hair of him. What— what if he's not coming back?"

Lucienne sighs softly, closing the book and replacing it on the shelf. "Maybe not," she admits. "But we can't give up...we must continue searching."

All of the residents that remain, a precious few, were adamant that Dream would return. You believed them, you truly did, but what being abandoned their people like this?? Something terrible must have happened, it was the only explanation you can think of. You were staying strong and hopeful for them, after all, the Dreaming was there home. It was only a temporary place for you to wander until you rouse from your episode. As you ponder what you would do next in this dream, the palace creaks and shakes, the sounds of more stone breaking off and falling to the ground greets your ears.

"Perhaps it would be best if you get out of the palace and visit the brothers? Maybe play with Gregory?" Lucienne offers to you, hoping to get you out of the crumbling palace before you decided to were going to spend your time assisting Mervyn.

"But what if Mervyn—" The librarian cuts you off with a stern look over her spectacles. You glance at Lucienne, her stern expression brooking no argument. With a resigned sigh, you turn and head out of the library, feeling the cool air of the Dreaming settle against your skin. The path to Cain and Abel’s house winds through the remnants of what once was a lush garden, now overrun with thorny vines and twisted trees. At least that's what Mervyn had told you.

As you approach the brothers’ abode, you hear a faint rustling sound followed by a series of thuds. Rounding the corner, you find Gregory tangled up in a net of brambles, his wings flapping uselessly as he tries to free himself.

“Gregory!” you exclaim, rushing to his side. His large, expressive eyes brighten when he sees you. Like a giant puppy, he chirps at you and wiggles his body. You chuckle softly as you begin to untangle the brambles from around his wings. “What happened this time?”

Gregory chirps again, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and sheepishness. You carefully work your way through the tangle of brambles, pulling each thorny vine away from his stone skin. The gargoyle’s weight shifts as he tries to help by flapping his wings, but it only makes the process more cumbersome.

“Hold still, Gregory. You’re not making this any easier,” you mutter with a half-smile.

He lets out a low rumble, a sound that almost seems like an apology. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you manage to free him. Gregory stretches his wings wide and gives a joyful hop, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

“Feeling better?” you ask, brushing off your hands.

Gregory nods vigorously, then nuzzles your shoulder with his large head. His granite skin is always surprisingly warm against your own.

You laugh softly and give him a pat. “Come on, let’s find Cain and Abel.”

The two of you make your way toward the brothers’ house, Gregory trailing close behind like an oversized shadow. As you approach, you hear the unmistakable sound of an argument brewing inside. The voices grow louder until you can make out individual words.

“It was mine! You had no right to take it!” Abel’s voice trembles with indignation.

Cain’s reply is sharp and dismissive. “You never appreciate what you have! Someone needs to teach you a lesson!”

You exchange a knowing glance with Gregory and push open the door. Inside, Cain stands over Abel, who is clutching something close to his chest—a small, tattered book by the looks of it. Both brothers freeze when they see you.

“Is everything alright here?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Cain straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just a little brotherly disagreement,” he says coolly.

Abel’s eyes dart between Cain and you before he speaks up in a softer voice. “He took my journal. I was writing in it, and he just—”

“It’s just a book,” Cain interrupts with a wave of his hand. “No need to get all worked up about it.”

You step closer to Abel and gently place a hand on his shoulder. “Abel, would you like to show me what you’ve been writing?”

He hesitates for a moment but then nods slowly, opening the journal to reveal pages filled with neat handwriting and detailed sketches—mostly of Gregory in various playful poses.

“These are wonderful,” you say genuinely, flipping through the pages. “You have real talent and Gregory is a stellar model!”

Abel blushes slightly under the praise while Cain rolls his eyes but doesn't comment further on the topic. Cain then suggests you stay for tea, his tone surprisingly warm. "Why don't you join us for some tea? Abel's been perfecting his recipe."

You nod, sensing the tension ebbing away. "I'd love to."

Abel beams and scurries off to prepare the tea. Gregory settles down near the hearth, his tail curling around his feet like a giant cat. You take a seat at the table, watching as Cain busies himself with setting out cups and saucers.

"So," Cain begins, filling the kettle with water. "What brings you here today?"

"Lucienne thought I needed a break," you say, leaning back in your chair. "She suggested visiting you and Abel."

Cain chuckles. "Smart woman. This place can be a bit... intense."

Abel returns with a tray of biscuits just as Cain sets the kettle on the stove. He places the tray in the center of the table and sits down across from you, his expression shy but hopeful.

"I hope you like them," Abel says quietly. "They're Gregory's new favorite."

You smile and reach for a biscuit, breaking it in half and offering a piece to Gregory. The gargoyle's eyes light up as he delicately takes the treat from your hand, chewing with surprising grace.

"These are delicious, Abel," you say after taking a bite of your own half. The biscuit is buttery and sweet, with just the right amount of crunch.

Abel's face lights up with pride. "Thank you! I've been experimenting with different ingredients."

The kettle whistles, and Cain pours steaming tea into each cup before passing them around. You take a sip, savoring the warm, fragrant brew.

"So," Cain says after a moment of silence, "how have things been with managing your narcolepsy Have your doctors come up with any new treatments?"

You take another sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through you. "It's been challenging," you admit. "They've tried a few new medications, but nothing seems to make a significant difference. I'm still visiting the Dreaming just as often."

Cain nods, his expression thoughtful. "It must be difficult, living between two worlds like that."

"It is," you agree, "but the Dreaming feels like a second home now. Even with its current state, there's something comforting about it."

Abel looks up from his tea, curiosity in his eyes. "Do you ever meet anyone else in your dreams? Other than us, I mean."

You think back to the fleeting faces and shadowy figures you've encountered over the years. "Occasionally. Most of them are just passing through, I think. But there are a few regulars."

Cain raises an eyebrow. "Regulars?"

You nod. "People who seem to visit the Dreaming as often as I do. We don't always interact, but there's a sense of familiarity. Like we’re all taking the same bus to work.”

Gregory nuzzles your arm again, reminding you of his presence. You smile and give him another biscuit piece.

"Maybe they’re like us," Abel muses, stirring his tea absently.

"Maybe," you say, watching Gregory's eyes follow the crumbs that fall from your hand.

Cain leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Well, if you ever need a break from your other world, you're always welcome here."

"Thank you," you say sincerely.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as you all enjoy your tea and biscuits. The tension that had filled the air earlier has dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie.

After a while, Abel stands up and starts clearing the table. Gregory helps by nudging dishes towards him with his nose.

"You know," Cain says thoughtfully, "I've been working on something in the garden. Would you like to see it?"

Your curiosity piqued, you nod eagerly. "I'd love to."

He leads you outside to a small patch of land behind their house where he’s cultivated a modest garden despite the Dreaming’s decay. It's filled with strange and beautiful plants that seem to shimmer in the dim light.

"It's not much," Cain says modestly, "but it's something to focus on."

"It's wonderful," you say sincerely, admiring the vibrant colors and unusual shapes.

Gregory chirps happily beside you while Abel joins Cain's side with a proud smile on his face.

You find yourself at the crumbling gate, alongside Lucienne, helping her clear away some of the rubble that has fallen from the deteriorating structure. The two of you work in  silence, the only sounds being the crunch of debris underfoot and the occasional groan of the ancient walls. Where was Mervyn? He usually helped out with clean up since he was the custodian and grounds keeper.

As you lift a particularly large piece of stone, a sudden gust of wind blows its way past where you stand, carrying with it an eerie, almost tangible sense of presence. You glance at Lucienne, who has frozen in place, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and hope.

“Lucienne?” you begin to ask, but she’s already moving, dropping the rubble she was holding and rushing towards the source of the disturbance. You follow her gaze and see him—Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams—lying amidst a swirl of sand. His dark form contrasts starkly against the desolation around him. Lucienne reaches him first, her voice trembling with a blend of reverence and concern.

“Lord Morpheus!” she exclaims, kneeling beside him. “Sir! Sir!”

You make it to where Lucienne crouches and Morpheus lays. His form is gaunt, his skin pale as moonlight, but his presence is undeniable. Lucienne's hands hover over him, uncertain whether to touch him or not.

“Is he...?” you start to ask, but Lucienne shakes her head.

“He’s alive,” she says, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief. “He’s come back.”

You watch as Morpheus’s chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. His eyes remain closed, and his expression is one of exhaustion. You kneel beside Lucienne, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“What do we do?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. But before Lucienne replies, Morpheus stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open.

Lucienne gasps softly and leans closer. “Lord Morpheus? Sir?” His eyes focus on her slowly as if waking from a deep sleep. When he finally speaks, his voice is weak but unmistakably his own.

“Lucienne,” he whispers. Tears fill her eyes as she takes his hand gently in hers.

“Welcome back,” she says softly.

Morpheus’s gaze shifts to you briefly, a darkness flickering within his eyes before it disappears. You rise to your feet and step a few steps back, unsure of what to do or say. Morpheus slowly rises to his feet, his eyes scanning his surroundings with a distant look. He finally focuses on Lucienne, then shifts his gaze to you. His expression is unreadable, a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Who is this?” he asks, his voice carrying an otherworldly echo.

Lucienne glances back at you before answering. “This is one of our regular visitors. They’ve been coming here for the past decade.”

Morpheus studies you intently, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you visit so often?”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “I think we have more pressing concerns at the moment, Lord Morpheus. The Dreaming, she's suffering." Morpheus's eyes bore into you, searching for something unspoken. You hold his gaze, standing your ground even as the weight of his presence presses against you.

"You're right," Morpheus finally concedes, his voice a shadow of its former strength. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He turns to Lucienne. "What has happened here?"

Lucienne hesitates, glancing at you before she begins. "After your disappearance, the Dreaming started to decay. Parts of it have crumbled away entirely."

You nod in agreement, stepping forward. "We’ve been doing our best to maintain it, but without your presence, it’s been difficult."

Morpheus looks around, his expression hardening as he takes in the desolation. He reaches out a hand and brushes his fingers against a nearby fragment of stone, and you see a flicker of energy pulse through him. The stone vibrates slightly, as if responding to his touch.

"It will require time to mend," he mutters, mostly to himself. Then he faces you and Lucienne. "But we will reconstruct." Although he directs his words to Lucienne, his eyes focus on you, filled with hostility. You feel unwelcome.

Date Published: 7/10/24

Last Edit: 7/10/24

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[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

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[dragon-kazansky]

Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

You are his lover. When Morpheus was captured, you fell into the deep sleep. He has no idea until he returns to his realm where Lucienne tells him what happened. Unable to help you until he gets his tools back, he is more determined than ever to get his full power back.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: This chapter just includes a lot of information from about 3 episodes worth. I apologise for that. My plot will pick up again soon.

Chapter Two - Old friends

☆☆☆

Morpheus stayed by your side for a couple of hours. He just sat silently beside the bed with your hand in his, his eyes never leaving your face.

Guilt.

He was riddled with it. Of course, being captured as a complete accident, out of his control, but still felt guilty for not being able to come back to you.

Here, you lay in a dreamless sleep. It was his fault you had been unable to wake. Simply returning to his realm wasn't enough to wake you. Perhaps if he began to rebuild The Dreaming, his power would wake you. He had to at least try.

Morpheus presses a kiss to your forehead and rises up from where he sat. He was reluctant to leave, but he had to do something. Anything. He needed you to wake up.

Lucienne met Morpheus in the throne room. There was debris everywhere. It looked nothing like how it used to. Morpheus was pained to even look at the steps. The last time he was here, he was on his way to bring back a rogue nightmare. That was a century ago. He almost wished he never left to begin with.

He stood among the rubble and opened his hands. Morpheus summoned as much power as he could. The rubble began to lift into the air, but it wasn't enough. He was weak. The rubble and glass fell to the ground, and so did he.

Lucienne moved to help him. "You need rest, and food, and perhaps a bit more rest, and then you'll be back at full strength."

"No. Not without my tools." Morpheus slowly gets up from the ground.

"Your tools?"

"My sand, my helm, my ruby."

"Why, what happened to them?" Lucienne asks.

"They were taken from me." He subconsciously rubs his ring finger. "Among other things too. By my captors. And then taken from them. I know not where. Nor what I am without them."

Morpheus' breaths become uneven. He is not strong enough to build his home to its former glory. Therefore, he is not strong enough to wake you.

He must wake you.

There are some who could help him find his tools. The fates. But they require a price. One that will be hard enough to pay if he can not travel through dreams to get what he needs.

He needs something with an essence of his power to help fulfil his travels. Otherwise it cannot be done.

Lucienne knows who can help, but they won't like it.

Cain and Abel.

☆☆☆

Morpheus stands beside your bed and gazes down at you as you sleep. You're always so beautiful. Not even your current state can take away the beauty you hold.

For the last century, all Morpheus could think about was getting back to you. He needed to be by your side again. You were the one thing that kept him going all this time. He never gave in. Never gave up.

Jessamy. She had been shot down in that basement long ago. He knows you will be heartbroken to hear the news. His beloved raven was a dear friend to you. There was so much he needed to tell you.

"I promise, my love. When I get my tools back, I shall wake you and never let you go again. I am sorry for being away so long. I am sorry for causing this to happen." His voice is soft as he caresses your face gently.

He presses another gentle kiss to your forehead and rises from the bed.

His heart aches at the sight of you.

He will wake you even if it's the last thing he ever does.

☆☆☆

Gregory, the gargoyle. He was a gift to Cain and Abel from Morpheus himself. He had been a loyal friend and companion to them.

Morpheus never wanted to ask this, but he had to. Cain and Abel didn't want to let go of their friend, but Gregory made his choice. For the good of The Dreaming. For the good of you too.

Cain and Abel were saddned to hear of your condition. They had heard about what happened from Lucienne, but to hear you did not wake upon the king of dreams return, that was devastating news.

So, when Gregory said goodbye, they understood.

Morpheus absorbed the power from Gregory. It wasn't easy, nor fun, not wanted. Yet, it had to be done.

Morpheus was sorry. He really was.

☆☆☆

The Fates speak in riddles.

Three questions. Three answers. One from each. Those are the rules. Morpheus would take what he could from them.

"My first question. I had a leather pouch filled with sand. Where is it?" He asks.

"It was sold. In London. Last purchased by a magic user called Joanna Constantine."

"Constatine. I knew a Constantine, but that was 300 years ago. Does she still have the sand?"

"Dream. You know better than that. You get one question and one answer."

"My apologies. My second question. My helm. What happened to it?"

"It was traded away to a demon. For the amulet of protection."

"To which demon was it traded?"

"One question. One answer, love."

"Last question. My ruby. Who holds it now?"

"Your gem was passed from a mother to a son."

"Where are they now?"

"You have asked your questions!" The Fates disappear. Morpheus is left standing alone.

Well, it's a start.

☆☆☆

While fetching the snake The Fates requested, he had picked up an egg. An egg he did not give to them. It was a gift for someone else.

Morpheus returned to Cain and Abel and left them the egg. It was his apology for what he did to Gregory.

Morpheus has his answers, and Cain and Abel had a new friend. He managed to fix something, at least.

☆☆☆

First stop, London.

Morpheus needed to get his sand back. It was important he had it. Constantine was a name he knew. He had met a Constantine before, a long time ago.

Finding her didn't take him long. However, she was not in the mood to stand around and chat. It seemed she had an exorcism to perform. He had to wait.

Unfortunately, he lost sight of her when a raven appeared. A raven he told Lucienne he didn't need. Not after what happened to Jessamy.

Matthew, his new raven, wasn't about to let him get out of this. Lucienne had told Matthew their king was stubborn, and that was starting to seem like an understatement.

Though Morpheus knew you would be disappointed in him for turning away a raven.

Morpheus helped Constantine with an old friend of hers. An ex. She had the sand. She had been holding onto it tightly. Her dreams were happy ones. The sand was keeping her alive, but Morpheus needed his pouch back.

She died happily.

Constantine accepted this and told Matthew to keep an eye on Morpheus. He could do with the company.

For a moment, Morpheus was reminded of you. That sounded like something you would say to him.

Morpheus clutched the sand in his hand.

"I will save you." He whispered.

Matthew looked up at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

Matthew had been made aware of you and your condition. Lucienne had told the raven their lord's mood will certainly be affected because of it.

Matthew didn't ask any more about you.

☆☆☆

While Morpheus travelled to Hell of all places, Lucienne came to sit by your bedside. She did this sometimes. She hated the thought that you were alone, even if you couldn't tell she was there or not.

"He's gone to get his tools back. I sent him a raven. I will make sure he keeps in touch this time, my lady."

Lucienne looks at your face. You looked so peaceful, but she knew this was deeper than that. She wanted you to wake up so could be with Lord Morpheus again.

"When you wake, the realm will be complete. My lord will be complete. Heartbroken doesn't even cover how he felt when he saw you, my lady... I wish there was more I could do."

Deep down, she knew there was nothing else she could do.

"I shall be here watching over you until he returns. I promise, my lady."

☆☆☆

Walking through Hell is about what you would expect, really.

Lucifer. The ruler of this realm.

Getting his helm back would not be easy, but he would do what he had to do to get it back. No matter what he was up against, Morpheus would do this. He was doing this for you and the realm you both shared.

Seeing Nadar was hard. He had told you be had loved before. He spoke very little about what happened, though. His luck in love was very little.

He reminded himself why he was here. For his helm. For you.

To get his helm back, he must play The Oldest Game. If he loses, he will become a slave to Hell. If he wins, he gets his helm back.

Morpheus tries to get Matthew to return to The Dreaming, so he may send word of Morpheus' fate if he does not win. Losing will not just leave him in Hell with his helm, but it would mean leaving you behind forever.

You would be safe with Lucienne. He needs you to be safe.

Matthew refuses to go.

The Oldest Game begins.

"I am a dire wolf. Prey stalking, lethal prowler." Lucifer begins.

"I am a hunter. Horse mounted, wolf stabbing." Morpheus replies.

Lucier takes a hit. Blood pouring from their torso.

"I am a serpent. Horse biting, poisoned toothed."

Morpheus feels the poison in his veins.

"I am a bird of prey. Snake devouring, talons ripping."

Lucifer receives some scratches to the face. More blood is shed.

"I am a butcher bacterium. Warm life destroying."

Morpheus curls over into a heap. His flesh appears to be rotting away.

"I am a world. Space floating, life nuturing."

They stand in a field. Calm. Peaceful.

"I am a nova." Lucifer opens their wings. "All exploding, planet cremating."

Morpheus lays on the ground. Scorched, in pain. He tries to get up, but he can not.

"I am a universe." He whispers. "All things encompassing. All life embracing."

"I am anti-life. The beast of judgement. The dark at the end of everything."

Morpheus is still. His breathing is laboured.

"What will you be then, Dream Lord?"

"I... I..." He is struggling. Matthew comes over.

"Boss? Hey boss!"

"Still with is Dream?" Lucifer asks, leaning over him slightly.

"He is, and it's his move." Matthew argues. "Your majesty."

"There are no more moves. What can survive the anti-life?"

"Hey boss, listen to me, you know what can survive the anti-life? You. Dreams don't fucking die. Not if you believe in them, and I believe Dream of the Endless would never leave his raven here alone in Hell with Lucifer. And he certainly wouldn't leave his love again in The Dreaming alone without him."

"I... am..." Morpheus sits up. "Hope."

The room brightens up.

"Hope?"

"Well, light bringer? It's your move. What is it that kills hope?"

"Give him his helm," Lucifer orders.

He did it. Morpheus won.

The helm is returned to Morpheus. He reminds Lucifer that dreams do have power in Hell.

He leaves, Matthew right behind him.

Morpheus puts his helm on. He knows where the ruby is. He uses his sand to take him there.

One more item, and then he can return to you. He can wake you and hold you again.

"Wait for me, my love."

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @emarich7 -

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (2/5)

part 3 of Wish. Chapter 2: Dream's eldritch baby shower

--

Later on, Lucienne and Matthew put together a baby shower for Dream in the Dreaming. It’s very sweet. Hob invites Death, though by the time he does she seems to already know, he’s not sure how. Death brings Desire, Despair, and Delirium along with her, which Hob is a bit dubious about, but he can’t exactly tell Death what to do. Even Dream’s remade version of the Corinthian shows up, which Hob is even more dubious about.

They all meet in Fiddler’s Green, ostensibly to surprise Dream, though Hob tips him off beforehand because Dream doesn’t actually like being surprised very much. “Just pretend you weren’t expecting it,” Hob tells him. When they arrive, Dream doesn’t do a very good job of pretending, though he does seem touched. Lucienne catches Hob’s eye and gives him a little smile, and he realizes she was probably counting on him to do just that.

They set up on the grass under one of Fiddler’s Green’s large shade trees. For some unfathomable reason, the Corinthian is the one who brings cake. Hob doesn’t know who allowed him to be in charge of that.

Corinthian sets the cake on a picnic blanket. It looks extremely normal, which is only more unnerving.

“That doesn’t have eyes in it, does it?” Matthew asks skeptically from where he’s perched on Hob’s shoulder—presumably positioned there to keep Hob between himself and the Corinthian. Thanks for that, buddy.

“So what if it does?” says Corinthian. “It’s important for the baby to develop proper bloodlust.”

Seemingly unperturbed, Dream takes a slice and starts eating it with a tiny fork. Under the vanilla frosting, the cake is pure red. Hob hopes it’s just red velvet.

He’s too unnerved to eat any of it himself.

Despite the possibly cannibalistic cake, Hob is briefly hopeful that it might be a nice event. No one’s tried to kill each other in the first five minutes, so that’s a plus. Maybe things will actually be normal.

Then Desire sits down in the circle.

“Why are you here,” Dream says with open hostility, and Hob mentally braces himself.

Desire just grins at Dream toothily. “She takes after me,” they declare. “I can tell already. We may be enemies, dear brother, but I hold nothing but fondness for my little nibling. I will be Auntie and you cannot stop me.”

“Auntie?” repeats Dream with derision, but Desire does not seem put off.

“Indeed. I do believe we will be the best of friends.”

“Your influence can only be negative,” says Dream.

Desire waves a hand. “We all need negative influences in our lives. And you speak as if your influence will be any better.”

Dream’s mouth pops open in outrage, but Desire thrusts a gift into his hands. Not only did they bring a gift, Hob reflects, but it’s even wrapped. Babies make people so weird.

Dream looks at them suspiciously, then at the gift with even more suspicion, but carefully unpicks the wrapping.

Inside is a knitted baby blanket in the shape of a large red heart.

Dream stares at it while Desire grins at him. “For sweet dreams,” they say.

Hob thinks it’s meant to be at least somewhat mocking but it’s… kind of sweet, too? In Desire’s twisted way.

“Do not taunt me,” Dream says at last, glaring at Desire, and they roll their eyes.

“Can’t you accept one sincere expression of love?”

“Are you capable of sincerity?”

“Enough,” Death cuts in, and they both quiet. “I didn’t bring you to cause trouble,” she says to Desire.

“I’m not!”

Dream still looks suspicious, but when he looks down at the blanket in his hands again, Hob sees something soft flit briefly across his face. “If you are sincere,” he says, “then I thank you.”

Desire settles back, satisfied. Somehow, Hob actually believes that they genuinely want to be their child’s Auntie. He doesn’t know how that will turn out, though.

Dream sets the blanket in his lap. “Perhaps you should attend your own grandchildren before worrying about mine.”

Desire waves a hand. “Oh, we’re thick as thieves, don’t you worry. I gave Rose dating advice just the other day!”

Dream looks alarmed by that, as does Death, but before either of them can react, Delirium, who’s been bouncing in her seat, jumps forward and hands Dream her gift. “Open it! Open it open it!”

Her gift is not so much wrapped as it is… an immaterial swirling ball of sparkles. Dream takes it, and it hovers in his hands, then explodes in a shower of light.

Inside is a mobile hung with glittery fish, to put above the crib. Only it’s not really a mobile, because the fish aren’t actually attached to any wires. They just hover in the air, swimming around each other in mesmerizing circular patterns. Hob has to admit that even to his adult eyes, it’s… pretty hypnotizing. Almost trance-inducing.

“I made it!” Delirium says.

Unlike with Desire, Dream has no cutting words for Delirium. “Thank you, little sister,” he says solemnly. He sets it before him, and the fish dart up to spiral around his head, then return to their meditative spin. “You must come to visit, and set it above her crib.”

Delirium claps her hands in delight. “Babies have such fun imaginations!” she says. “Even I can feel them.” She throws her arms around Dream in a bear hug. He tolerates it in good humor, but Hob sees his tiny smile over her shoulder.

Everyone else has brought gifts for Dream too. He seems nervous about it, not being used to receiving nice things. Hob urges Lucienne to go next as he knows she’ll have been sensible about it—God only knows what Corinthian’s picked out. Hopefully just the bloody cake.

Lucienne gives Dream a newborn-sized onesie that says future librarian. Dream raises an eyebrow. “Claiming my daughter as your apprentice already?”

She smiles. “More an offer of babysitting.”

Lucienne is one of the few people in Dream’s vicinity that Hob thinks is actually capable of taking care of an infant. Everybody else in the Dreaming… he’s really not so sure.

“I thank you, Lucienne,” Dream says, and clasps her hands with a small, but warm smile.

Then Despair, who’s been keeping to herself so far, passes Dream a small package wrapped in newspaper. Inside is what seems to be a plastic teething toy shaped like her hook-and-ring sigil—though with the sharp hook suitably blunted.

Hob’s immediate first thought is will the baby even have teeth, which is insane and makes him wonder how prepared he actually is for any of this. But before he can ponder it more, Despair says, “When she is hurting, I can ease it.”

Hob’s been a bit leery of letting Despair near the baby to begin with. But from what Dream has said in the past, when she isn’t being pulled into her twin’s schemes Despair can be the kindest of the Endless. Hob is still wary of that form of kindness, especially when it comes to Dream himself. But he thinks perhaps he can see what Dream means.

Matthew gives Dream the book Quantum Physics for Babies, which he seems to have procured from a Waking world bookstore despite there most definitely being a copy in the Dreaming library somewhere. “Listen,” he says, “I gotta give the kid a better start in life than I had. Speaking of which, should we set up a college fund?”

“Hob can afford higher education,” Dream says placidly.

“Great,” Hob complains, “just put all the childcare costs on me, then.”

“S’what you get for knocking up a guy who’s got no money,” Matthew says, then immediately croaks in regret for having said that out loud, hopping several feet away from Dream.

Dream just gives him a look but doesn’t comment. It’s not like Matthew’s wrong, after all.

Fiddler’s Green crafts a flower crown of budding blossoms, and floats it down onto Dream’s head, which makes him smile faintly, touching the soft petals. Corinthian gives him a stuffed toy cat with a baby-sized knife stashed in the belly; apparently, it can be eviscerated endless times and will just repair itself. Hob had been expecting body parts so he can’t complain, really. An indestructible toy might actually come in handy.

Death doesn’t have a physical gift for Dream. Instead she leans in close to his side and whispers something in his ear. When she finishes speaking, Dream is close to tears. And Hob thinks he knows what she’s said.

It’s something he hadn’t even considered. Dream had said the baby wasn’t Endless, but Hob had still been assuming she was like, kind of Endless, some sort of ethereal nonhuman creature. To think he was wrong makes his stomach drop; he nearly grasps onto Dream’s arm for balance before the past few seconds catch up to him and he remembers what Death said. Presumably said. Christ, not even born and the baby’s already giving him a heart attack.

“I thank you, my sister,” Dream says, with more than his usual solemnity, clearly—to Hob’s eyes anyway—blinking those burgeoning tears back. Hob finds his hand and squeezes it, close to tears himself.

“You know I just want you to be happy, Dream,” Death says, cheery despite the heavy topic. Not so heavy for her, though, Hob supposes.

“I do.” Dream almost seems to believe it.

Then, Death hands him a package wrapped in brown paper. Dream reads the label, frowning. Then just stares at it, for at least a full minute.

“Dream?” Hob asks tentatively.

Dream picks open the wrapping on the package and opens the box. He lifts out a child’s art kit, finger paints and crayons and so on. He doesn’t say anything.

Desire looks pale. “Is that from—?”

“Brother!” Delirium squeals, and snatches not the gift itself, but the wrapping from Dream’s hands. She turns it over, lifts it above her head to look at the underside, tilting her head and frowning. “No address.”

“Where did you get this?” Dream demands of Death.

“It was left on the doorstep, so to speak,” Death says, then doesn’t elaborate further.

Hob almost doesn’t want to ask, given their reactions, but he’s dying with curiosity. “Who is it from, then?”

“Our brother,” Dream says. It might as well be a sentence to death for the way he intones it.

Oh. Hob has heard about this. Or at least, he’s heard Dream say there are seven Endless and then only talk about six. He’s heard the space around that name.

“He’s not coming, though,” says Despair, twisting the lank strands of her hair between her fingers.

“I don’t think so,” says Death.

“Why would he do this?” Desire demands. “If you’re gonna stay away then just stay away.”

“But family,” says Delirium. She’s still holding the crumpled gift wrapping in despondent hands.

Desire snorts. “What family?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Death says, defusing the argument. “Whatever they may be, he clearly wants to show he cares. I think we should leave it at that.”

Neither Desire nor Delirium look like they want to ‘leave it at that,’ but Delirium only fidgets nervously and Desire huffs, rolling their eyes, when Death casts them a look, but ultimately stays quiet. Meanwhile Dream has set the art kit down on the grass before him and is studying it, brow pinched. Hob rests a hand on his lower back.

“We will not solve the matter now,” Dream finally says.

The art kit vanishes, whisked away by dream sand to Dream’s chambers, or possibly deposited somewhere in Hob’s flat, it’s hard to be certain. Hob’s unsure whether it will make another appearance. Dream doesn’t seem like he’s quite ready to deal with that yet, and knowing him, their daughter will be as old as Hob before he is.

Gradually, the tension dissipates. Delirium folds the wrapping paper into a flower and tucks it behind her ear. Desire pulls the entire rest of the cake towards themself and starts picking at the frosting with their fingers. Despair joins in soon after.

Lucienne gathers herself and tries to rally them all. “Any other gifts?” she says.

“Hob’s gift! Hob’s gift!” Delirium chants.

Indeed, Hob is the only one left who hasn’t gone. Before he can even speak, Desire smiles slyly. “Hob doesn’t need a gift. He already gave Dream his sperm.”

“Desire!” Dream and Death say simultaneously.

“Wrow,” drawls Corinthian. “Let’s hear more about that.”

“Let’s not.” Lucienne glares at Corinthian. How she survives this on a daily basis, Hob really doesn’t know.

“Let’s not,” he agrees, and Corinthian grins at him with all three of his mouths. Hob shudders, but ignores the nightmare in favor of pulling a gift box from the fabric of the Dreaming.

He’s gotten better at manipulating the Dreaming. He’s pretty sure he even managed to hide his gift from Dream despite it being in the Dreaming the whole time and made of dream stuff.

Indeed, Dream takes the box, eyes widening in surprise as touch reveals its origins. He opens it and takes out a small rectangle, somewhat akin to a mobile phone in appearance. He tilts his head, studying it. Hob taps it, and the screen lights up, showing a camera view of the spare room in Hob’s flat they’d converted into a nursery.

“It’s a baby monitor,” he explains. “Has sound, too.”

Hob knows plenty well that, while he might be able to convince Dream to take some time off after the baby is born, Dream isn’t going to be able to just be with them all the time, even if he wants to. His job is too all-encompassing and too important. And Dream won’t complain about it, because he never does, but he will be sad about it, and he will worry about his baby when he’s not there. Hob just knows it.

Hence, the dream baby monitor that’s connected to the Waking world. Dream can, of course, look in on Hob via dreams if he needs to, or send Matthew to the Waking to be his eyes from afar, but he’s not omniscient, he can’t just know what’s going on in their flat. Except now he can.

“Getting it to connect to the one in my flat was the tricky bit, but I think I’ve managed it,” he says, and Dream turns to look at him.

“You made this?” he says.

Hob scratches the back of his neck. “Well, the Dreaming was inclined to help, I think.”

Lucienne is smiling. Death, too. Dream just keeps staring at him, perplexed, or surprised, Hob’s not sure.

He nudges Dream in the side. “I wanted you to be able to see her.”

“To see her,” Dream echoes. He looks again at the screen of the baby monitor. Touches the dream-glass with a light fingertip. His eyes shine, but he doesn’t cry—he never does in front of his subjects, and rarely does even in front of Hob. Hob rubs his back.

“Thank you,” Dream finally says, quietly, and tucks the baby monitor carefully into the inner infinity of his coat. “You have become quite adept at dreaming, it seems.”

Then he lifts Hob’s hand to his mouth and kisses his palm.

Delirium makes a squealing, cooing sound. So does Corinthian, but mockingly. Hob’s pretty sure he hears Desire gag.

But as usual, he only has eyes for Dream, and cradles his cheek in his palm, thumbing over the corner of his mouth. Dream’s eyes hold promises for later that needn’t be spoken in present company. But above all is the love there, the devotion, the promise that is the two of them. 

“Can we please open the wine now?” Desire begs, and the tension is broken, but Hob catches Dream’s gaze intermittently throughout the rest of the afternoon, and he knows what he sees there, subtle though it is. It’s happiness.

“He loved it,” Hob tells Lucienne later, when the group’s mostly dispersed.

She smiles, quietly pleased. “I know.”

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌, 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄

dream (morpheus) x sister!reader

summary: just scenarios about being dream's little sister.

warnings: nothing, maybe desire (?), but dream being EXTREMELY protective about his sister, that's all <3

– you're the youngest children of night and time, being born after a hundred years of the others. when you were born, the others were there, desire trying to play with you, but instead of letting them terrorize you, dream takes you in his arms, looking down at you. your wide, innocent eyes, the golden symbols tracing under your eyes on your soft skin, when you blink, it's like your eyes shine in golden for a second. "it's so peaceful... what is it's power?" death asked as she tried to play with her. their mother, night laying on the bed looked at them, then the baby. "it's a she, actually, dear. and she's hope. mortals gonna radiate in her presence, she'll bring light into the world." hearing these words, dream look at her mother. "mother, i..." mother night nodded. "i know, my dream. i trust you with raising her, look out for her. until she's strong enough to create her realm, she's gonna live with you."

– and from now on, dream takes you with him, and tries to give you everything. it takes a mere two hundred years for you to be powerful enough to make your own realm, but when you move there, you still spend much time in the dreaming.

– but enough from the specifics, get on the emotional side, shall we?

– dream being your brother and patron saint means that you'll be under heavy protection. he'll not let anyone harm you, and doesn't trust anyone to teach you things, except from lucienne and jessamy. as time goes by, you and his helpers, friends became a new family. you stroke jessamy's wings and feathers every time she flies to the realm of hope. "is my brother kind to you, little jessamy?" you ask from her, and you know that she's much more older than you, but you just love to bury your face into her feathers.

– after you create your realm (you create it in your dreams, how ironic), he's the first one you invite to take a look at it, and it's truly magical. dream smiles, and while he does that really rarely, in your presence, he lets himself to be happy. seeing your eyes full of shining from what you just have done, he strokes your head, giving you a hug. "i'm so proud of you, sister." besides taking care of your realm, you go down to the waking world merely often. from little things like growing the flowers of little children who believes that their tulips will grow before fall, to the big things like curing terminally ill people for the family members who's praying all day (especially that in the 1700s, there's no cure for a single pneumonia). when dream doesn't find you, he always holds the little object you gave him -a little bag of pearls, when they mix with the sand he blows out, your pearls lead him to where you are.

– like, after you picked up a baby bird from the ground, probably fallen off from it's nest, you feel a presence behind your back. stiffing a little bit, then turning and lifting your vile, weaved from gold and transparent like sunshine, you smile when you see your brother. if your vile is in front of your face, people can't see you, but if it's off, it's like you're just one of them.

– "dream! how are you?" your smile is so wide and honest, you never ever wonder when you find him coming after you; it's like you know that he's watching over you and will meet you. after helping the baby bird, you begin to walk with him. it's always unusual, you, a bright and little bit outstanding girl, and him, a tall, dark and pale man together is the duo who people turn after.

– you're always listening to him as you walk beside him, but when you're done with one of your missions from the thousands you planned yourself as usual, it's like he's the one who's asking you constantly (a/n: it's exactly the picture about a mama cat who's walking beside her kitten and looking at them). sometimes, when death is with you two, your trio is just sitting on a hill with some flowers in silence, dream and death talks about serious things, and when they turn to you, you place flower crowns on their heads you made during their conversation. then, you explain your thoughts, tilting the flower crown on dream's head back when he looks down for too long.

– dream protects you from desire of course, because he's convinced that everything his sibling says is a poison to your mind when you're adolescent. sure, when you're older, you meet desire, but you can be certain about the fact that your brother looks out for you when you're with them. looking seriously into their eyes, he growls, "if you dare to influence or persuade our sister dream to do anything, you'll never forget the day when you made that mistake. and has nothing to do with what's conflict between us, do you understand?"

– safe to say that when it comes to desire's intrigue with the vortex-story, dream considered that you're on his side of the family. he says that he's disgusted by desire, but deep down he fears that he's too strict, and one day you're gonna advocate beside them. and desire can make you do anything, even if it means that you sacrifice yourself for your family, because that's how much you love your siblings and humanity.

– dream takes great pride about how you think the same about humanity as him and death; helping them, walking among them and serving them, not laying all day in your realm and doing nothing but only bad (like desire).

when you are together, it's like you're joined at the hip –and on one side, it's better than anything, but if something bad happens... then the two of you feel it.

– (yeah, now is coming the sad part, it's also a little oneshot)

when dream gets caged in, maybe you're too young or too immature to the feelings and your family, but as much as you search for him, as much as you ask for everybody around you, they don't know where he went, you just don't understand. your first thought is that he get away because of you. and that he doesn't love you anymore, and he rather stays away from his family than to see you.

for thirty years, you cry in your realms and don't dare to go to the dreaming. your creatures try to reassure you that it's not your fault, but you're relentless. other twenty years goes away with calling him, but he just don't answer –the most painful in the whole thing that he hears you the entire time... he just can't respond.

then, after god knows how many time, you stand up one day, and think 'wipe your tears off, hope. dream would talk about his problems, especially with you. if my brother doesn't want to come to me, than i'm going to find him'. and with this, you collect your objects that gives you power, and you go down to the dreaming. walking to lucienne, you keep your veil on your hair, like a bride. "lucienne, where is jessamy? i need her to find my brother." lucienne looks at you with so much apology in her eyes. you feel your heart tighten, but you don't know yet. "my majesty, i fear to say this, but... jessamy didn't come back from the waking world." hearing this words, your lips began to tremble, and your eyes became foggy. "no... but, then... is my brother still down there?" you ask, trying to come over with the worst news you could hear. "yes, my majesty. as good as i know, my lord is still down in the waking world."

you nod, then walking out on the big gates, you walk as fast as you can, lucienne is running after you. "my majesty, what is your plan, you are safe here, don't go down there!" with tears still in your eyes, you spread the veil in front of you face. "lucienne, i fea that if i don't go down there, maybe my brother will never come back. i just lost my best friend, and the dreaming is fallen apart, but i will not lose my brother. so please, take care of the dreaming as you did until now." you tell to her, and with this, you spread your arms and let yourself fall down on the edge of the dreaming into the deep border of the realms and the waking world.

after a few weeks between the mortals, you've found the house where your brother was held as a prisoner. sneaking into the house with your vile on, you tried to find out where he could be. as soon as a feather fell into your hand from somewhere, you felt like a string is bound to your heart, and you knew you had to follow it before the feeling disappears. walking down to the lower hallways that seemed like the basement, there was a lock on the steel rods. "oh, come on..." you whispered, as with only a touch, the lock fell down. when it happened, you wanted to come in, but two uniformed people, a man and a woman ran towards you. they didn't see you, and you reached out your hand, giving them happy visions, one of your ability. as they fell to the ground, looking around... there he was. your brother, naked, without any protection against the waking world. dream was sitting there, but he looked up for the noises. at the sight of him, your heart began to beat fast; he spend the last hundred years here? without any help? and what have they done to jessamy? killing and harming were always usual in your life, as you saw it in the mortal world, but it was still a little bit foreign to your soul.

running to him, falling to your knees, you touched the glass as you brushed down your veil. you saw on his face that he didn't believe you were there. "it's me, brother. it's me, hope. how did this happen? who did that to you?" slowly, dream placed his hand on the glass, just on the spot where your hand was.

"hope... how are you here?"

"i couldn't find you, did you think i'm letting you be away for so long? i'm sorry i didn't begin to search for you sooner."

"my sister, it's dangerous for you to be here. they killed jessamy, and they surely want to kill you too." you shook your head, searching for something sharp or rough, something you could cause yourself harm with. "hope, it's not worth to hurt yourself. i'll find my way out from here, just-"

"no, i'll help you. the only option for me to go home is with you. so, could you please crawl a little bit back?" if you hurt yourself, your energy would radiate and explode things you pointed onto. this will hurt, but it will heal. what's never could heal is the hole in your soul from pain, that you let your brother rotten here longer. closing your eyes, you cut deep into your knee, and when the pain was unbearable, you turned to the cave with a closed mouth. it's the strongest of you're direct, and when you begin to scream, the glass cave crashes down to the smallest pieces. it hurt, sure, but destroying something and the knowledge of freeing your brother somehow eased your pain. touching his face with your bleeding hand, drops of your gold blood is falling to the ground. "dream... come on, let's get out of here, let's get to the dreaming." letting your pearls float into the air, he helps you stand up as the pearls begin to form a tornado.

and with that, your journey to get back his objects began.

should i make a part 2? when dream and his sister travels trough the realms and get back his objects.. i'm excited about it, write down your thoughts <3

you can ask for requests in dm or here, do the same if wanna be on the taglist uwu

love, louisa

[dutchess-of-fear]

Sweet Treat For A Sweet Dream

Morpheus x GN!Reader

You were having difficult fallen asleep for three nights and you couldn't get to sleep, when your worried boyfriend decided to visit and want to help,

Hope you enjoy this little story, I sometimes has also difficulty sleeping at times and thought of making a little story of Morpheus helping you finally having a good night sleep

You were tossing and turning and couldn't really sleep at all, it had been the third night you hadn't had any sleep at all, you tried everything to fall asleep, but nothing had worked out.

You toss the duvet off you're body as you got up and marched into the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea, you were so busy trying to make yourself some tea that you hadn't noticed Morpheus, your boyfriend standing at the doorway to the kitchen, "Having trouble sleep, my sparrow?" You jumped and turned around, holding a hand over your chest as you gave him a death glare, "at least announce yourself before giving me a heartattack?" You turned around and finished making your tea before sitting down as Morpheus joined you.

Yes your boyfriend was literally the King of Dreams and Nightmares, you know you should ask your boyfriend to help you sleep by giving you those sand that he carried, but you are quite stubborn and had dealt with this before and you did feel asleep on your own so you never asked for his house.

But Morpheus has been worried, he hadn't seen you for a while, Lucienne said they must be busy with College and they be in the dreaming tonight as its the weekend, but it's already half past eleven and Morpheus didn't want to wait anymore.

So he decided to visit into the real world and see how they been doing,

You ask Morpheus what was he doing here as he reached for your hand looking at you with worry in his eyes,

"I am worried about you my sparrow, I hadn't seen you in the dreaming for a while" you did always love how Morpheus always wants to make sure you are happy and make sure you are safe which always warmed your heart with love for him.

"Do not worry my love, I'm just having a little difficulty of sleeping but don't worry, I be fine" you say as you busy looking at your empty cup as Morpheus knew he need to help his darling, even when he knew they is going to be stubborn about having help,

"My sparrow, you want me to help-" "no Morpheus I don't need help, I can get to sleep without the sand" You answered while you began to clean your cup, but Morpheus held your wrist gently as he wrapped his other hand around your waist stopping you from cleaning,

"My Sparrow go to the bedroom, I'll make you something that will help you sleep" He gently say, you try to protest but he interrupted you "my dear, please let me help, you look absolutely tired" you knew that you can't win with him, as he has his way of making you cave in as you nodded your head,

He smiled softly as he kissed your hair as you reluctantly moved away from Morpheus, you asked what he was thinking of doing as he looked around the kitchen and found what he was looking for,

"well, I have heard that cinnamon tea is said to help you sleep, so I make that for you my Sparrow" you couldn't help but smile with glee as you hadn't had cinnamon tea for a while, you ask him to add a bit of honey in your tea as he hum in acknowledgement.

You sat up in your bed as Morpheus came with your Cinnamon tea with honey, you couldn't help but quickly take it out of his hands, he softly chuckled at the excitement of having the tea,

He went round the bed and sat next to you as you enjoyed your sweet delicious tea, "you know maybe I should ask you more often to help me sleep" you looked over towards your boyfriend and smiled, his eyes slightly lighten up as he kiss your check softly, you began to blush from that as he smirked before taking the cup from your hands and set it down on the table next to your side of the bed, leaning over you body.

With how the position was you're face began to grow bright red with the minute as sinful thoughts began to appear in your mind as Morpheus looks at you,

He looks at you like he knew what you were thinking but it quickly change when you suddenly yawn as you're eye became heavy, he chuckled as he brush your hair gently out of your face, "come on my Sparrow, time to sleep" Morpheus got out of the bed as he gently tuck you in the bed as you smiled as you dreamed of wonderful and sweet dreams.

He couldn't help but gently kiss your forehead "have sweet dreams my beautiful little sparrow" as he then went back to his kingdom to meet you there in the dreaming

[dyns33]

Split

A little silly Morpheus x female reader 

No one knew how or why this happened at the time. Those who knew said nothing, and did not come to help.

But one day the Dreaming split in two. It happened so fast that the inhabitants didn't immediately understand what had just happened, only noticing that one side of the kingdom had blue skies, while the other was stormy.

The castle also had changed. One side white, one side black.

"The boss is making changes ? He's pissed off ?" Matthew asked Lucienne, whose library had also been cut in half.

"I don't know. Yesterday it was still raining, but I didn't notice any change in our lord's mood."

"Still sad because of Y/N ? He's the one who left her, right ? I don't understand why he's sad, and now this."

"You'll have to ask him. If we can find him."

Outside it was no longer raining, and the balcony where Morpheus had stayed for days was empty.

The throne room was out of place. Neither did his private room.

It was as if he was no longer there. Or not totally. Not fully.

"Hello, dear Lucienne. Loyal Matthew. It's good to see you."

The voice was calmer, softer, but it was Morpheus' voice. Except he wore white clothes, his hair was white too, he was totally white. Only his starry eyes remained, staring at them as he smiled.

Smiled ! 

"... My Lord, are you all right? The palace...have you made any changes?"

"There have indeed been some changes, Lucienne. Sorry to have worried you. We didn't think before we acted. From now on, I, Lord Dream, would rule over this part of the castle, while Lord Nightmare will be in charge of the other half. You will have to see with him what he wants to do, that's not my problem."

"Lord... Nightmare ?"

"Yes. Excuse me, I have to go check on the dreamers."

Dreamers obviously meant those who had sweet dreams. Those visited by bad dreams were the domain of the other half, Lord Nightmare, who remained untraceable, hidden in the shadows of the palace.

Among the "good" dreamers, Matthew noticed that there was Y/N.

A lot.

Whenever he had time, Dream watched her with a smile, making sure she was fine and that her nights weren't restless. Since the big change, she hadn't had a single nightmare.

Maybe the raven wasn't wrong when he said it had to do with her and their breakup.

He needed to know more.

First, he asked the new boss. Because even though he had changed, he knew the old boss didn't like things being done behind his back.

Dream didn't seem upset by his request. He no longer seemed able to feel any negative emotion, still smiling and thanking Matthew for his concern.

"I miss my sweet Y/N, I admit it. I was stupid to let her go, when she had done nothing wrong. I would like to see her again, but I don't know if she would be happy. She has every good reason in the world to be mad at us."

Matthew had noted that the white boss sometimes talked about him saying "I", then saying "we". He often said "we" to refer to actions he was not proud of, in reference to when he was a single entity ruling over dreams and nightmares.

The little raven tried to talk to the master of bad dreams, but he did not come out of his hiding place.

So he went to ask Lucienne if it was a good idea to talk to Y/N. She wasn't sure, so Matthew decided on his own that it was a good idea.

Calm, patient, kind, Y/N let him into her home, offering him a small bowl of water and agreeing to listen to what he had to say.

She would have had every right not to open the door to him, yelling at him to leave her alone, after the horrible breakup with Morpheus.

"Why did you break up, if I may ask ?"

"You'll have to ask him. Everything was fine and one day he told me he didn't think we were meant to be together."

"Ouch. Not cool, boss. Not cool, and weird, because he's been very sad for weeks, and now this. You... Could you talk to him ? Talk to them?  I don't know about Nightmare, but Dream seems to want it."

"I'll think about it."

Since she was calm, patient, and very kind, Y/N didn't think long and the same evening, she found herself in the Dreaming, following Matthew in the strange new corridors of the palace.

As the raven had said, Dream seemed happy to see her. He smiled, even more than he had since he appeared, the stars in his eyes dancing and twinkling as he walked towards her.

"Y/N... My love... I cannot express the joy that embraces me to welcome you here again. Aren't you angry with me ? With us ? I will kneel before you and kiss your feet until you forgive me if you have to."

"That won't be necessary."

"Noble heart. You are so kind to me, I..."

"What is she doing here ?!"

The walls shook and Matthew really tried not to be afraid as he saw the creature coming out of the shadows, its eyes blank, its face cruel, its long hooked fingers hanging down its scrawny body, covered in dark clothes.

A real Nightmare, without a doubt, which stared at Y/N with a look full of hatred.

"She's not welcome here ! Not after what she did ! She hates us."

"No, you are the only culprit, and the only one concerned." Dream replies by standing in front of Y/N. "So go back to your lair, and leave us in peace."

Nightmare stopped short, grimacing as it showed its sharp teeth, but there was a sadness in the back of its eyes, pain. He groaned but said nothing, stepping back into the darkness that seemed to move.

This dissuaded Matthew from following him, too frightened, and the little raven stood in front of Y/N when she moved in the direction of the dark corridor.

"Nope, nope. Bad idea, kid. Better leave him alone, he'll probably calm down."

"Matthew is right, dear heart." Dream said taking her hand. "Nightmare doesn't deserve your attention anyway, nor does he want it. We could walk in the gardens, or visit the two brothers."

Maybe it was because the sun was rising in the waking world, or because she was confused because he had just happened, or because she didn't feel like spending time with him, but Y/N didn't have time to answer, disappearing from the Dreaming and opening her eyes in her bed.

Almost immediately, Matthew visited her, to see if she was okay.

"I mean, I was worried, Nightmare is really scary and he seems to be really mad at you. Dream is worried too, he was glad I came to see you. He promised you wouldn't have any bad dreams, they have some sort of arrangement, I didn't understand everything. Anyway, are you alright ?"

"Yes. Nightmare has returned ?"

"No sign of him, but I'm scared as soon as I see a dark spot. He might be hiding in there."

"Why is he mad at me ?"

"No idea, Dream says it's his fault and we should just ignore him. Oh, he wanted to know if you wanted to feed the pigeons with him."

"... Not today."

Neither that day nor the following days obviously, Y/N avoiding Dream like the plague and asking lots of questions about Nightmare.

This ended up hurting the master of sweet dreams who continued to smile anyway, but displaying a sad smile and remaining alone under a fine rain, just like Morpheus before the change.

This greatly annoyed the Master of Nightmares, who again came out of hiding to yell at Lucienne and Matthew, ordering them to banish Y/N and not let her near Dream again.

"That idiot is fragile and innocent. He thinks she loves him, and hates me, but he's wrong. She doesn't love us. She proved it, again."

"Boss... Well, second boss... Well... It's nonsense! "

"Obey, Matthew ! Don't let her come back here !"

Matthew obeyed, and he didn't bring Y/N back, but he went back to see her to tell her what had happened.

Dream's words and Nightmare's words intrigued her even more, as she couldn't understand why one was so furious saying she didn't love him, and the other replied that he deserved it.

Because Y/N had loved Morpheus deeply, she still had a lot of affection for him despite their breakup, and she worried about this split in two.

That was why she wasn't interested in Dream, who wasn't totally him, and she wanted to understand what was happening to Nightmare.

To find a way to bring Morpheus back.

"Oh ? Maybe we should tell him. The boss wasn't good with people, so the two bosses ? They must be even worse !"

"I don't think Nightmare will want to listen to me. And Dream... I didn't mean to hurt him, really. It's just weird, I can't explain."

"Nah, I understand. I'm going to ask him if he accepts an audience."

Dream gladly accepted, although he seemed disappointed that she wasn't coming just for him and only him. He listened to what she had to say, sighing sadly when she was done.

"It's not your fault, my love. We should have warned you, asked your permission. We understood your fear and your disgust. We tried to accept it, but it was too hard. To know that you couldn't love us entirely. But we couldn't live without you either, so we came up with this idea. Nightmare won't terrorize you anymore, I promise, and I'll love you in a conventional mortal way."

"... What ?" was Y/N's only response.

“Don't you remember ? That night, that tragic night. We wanted to love you, totally. Like an Endless can love. You found yourself in us, and we in you. only one. But you were scared. You panicked, you begged, you woke up... You were crying in your bed. Oh, my love, I'm so sorry."

"That dream... I was floating naked in a dark void. There was a voice, and I felt... I felt so many things. Was it you ? I mean, Morpheus?  I thought it was a kind of nightmare."

"In a sense, yes, since our primary essence is partly made up of nightmares. We should have known you wouldn't like that."

"I didn't say I didn't like that."

"You were scared." Dream noted, smiling slightly. "You cried."

"I told you, I felt a lot. Too much. It was intense. Scary, yes, but also exciting. I felt full, and empty, and good, and lost. And when I I woke up, there was nothing left, and I didn't know if it was worse or not. I suddenly had a feeling of lack. I couldn't wait to see you. You left me the next day. "

"… My love ? You… don't hate us ?"

"Of course not, I love Morpheus. I didn't know it was him, otherwise I would have been less scared. I know he spoke to me, but everything is a blur. There was so much . Matthew is right, he's really not good, I wish he'd talked to me."

"And you're not happy with the changes ? I need to find Nightmare."

It was not so easy to find Nightmare. You couldn't find a nightmare, it was the nightmares that found you, and obviously their master didn't want to be located.

Lucienne asked all the dreams present in the castle to help them, while Matthew flew over the surrounding gardens and plains.

Y/N was the only one to go further, to the caves.

There, deep in a dark cave where whispers and moans echoed, she found Nightmare, lurking in a corner, her back to him.

"... What do you want ?"

"Morpheus thought I didn't fully accept him. That I didn't accept you, and that's why we're in this situation. But that's not true."

"... How could that be wrong ? No one loves me. I am a monster. All creatures fear me and only wish to have sweet dreams. Dream is the lord of all, stories, cats,  hope. He doesn't need me, and you'll be happy with him. I belong here."

"Even though Dream is very nice, he's...too nice. I love Morpheus, and Morpheus is partly nightmarish, torturous and difficult. I love his smiles, his poems and his starry eyes, but I also love his fury, his impatience and his emptiness. That night... It was him, totally him, and I didn't see that. But I loved that moment. I loved you. Now, I miss him. Will you let me have him again, dear Nightmare, or do you hate me too much ?"

The Nightmare slowly turned towards her, growing until it engulfed the entire cave, leaning towards her with an indescribable expression.

"I don't hate you. I never hated you. I would torment you until the end of time if I could, and if you wanted to. But since you don't just want Dream, you don't just want of me."

"No, I want Morpheus, my beautiful, my tender, my dangerous and stupid Morpheus."

"Very well then."

The earth shook slightly, the clouds swirled in the sky and the inhabitants of Dreaming were very afraid when they saw their kingdom split in two, reforming to form one, as before.

Y/N returned to the castle, where she found Lucienne and Matthew, unsure whether to enter the throne room.

Indeed, Lord Morpheus was there, reading a book, as if everything was perfectly normal.

So Y/N came in, approached him and greeted him, kissing him on the cheek, like she did before, before they broke up, before all of this.

"Hello Morpheus."

"Good morning, my love." he replied, continuing to read.

"I had a weird dream where you were split in two."

"I had a weird dream where you said I was stupid."

"Oh, I didn't say that !" laughed Y/N while shaking head. "I have said many things, and so have your parts. Your parts I love, as I love the whole, in whatever form. And the next time you visit me in your most pure on, please tell me, so I could prepare myself. I am only a mortal, my little heart is fragile and I have a hard time with emotions. Kind of like you, but differently."

"... I see. I'll let you know, love."

"Thank you, my stupid darling."

He said nothing, let her sit beside him on the throne, and observed what he read. Absolutely as if nothing had happened, except for a moment of bewilderment on the part of the king of dreams and nightmares, too little self-confident to believe that we could totally love him, and too proud to talk about it with his dear lover.

Luckily he was wrong and she loved him.

And luckily Matthew rarely obeyed orders.

[dearlucienne]

𝐻𝑒𝑛𝑠,

do you remember the writing you sent me two years ago when I was at my lowest point and you asked me to write back? I will always be grateful for that because your words saved me. For someone I don't know personally, you have become such a remarkable presence I've ever come across. If entrance to heaven were decided by votes, you would have mine without hesitation. You deserve the best that God could offer.

Happy birthday to one of God's kindest creations. I hope life treats you kindly and the world becomes a welcoming place for you to thrive.

✉ 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑠

[thethreeeyed-raven]

first meeting

make me feel masterlist

navigation | warnings : none? | dream of the endless playlist | tags : @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @knight-of-flowerss , @fangsp1der-2099

“Miss Y/n!”

One of your maids entered your bedroom and had drawn the curtains. You sat up tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and shielding them from the bright sun when you opened them to look at the woman.

“Yes, Prudence?” You asked her groggily.

She gave you a small smile, placing the fresh clean clothes she had folded in her arm on the chair in front of your dresser. “Your mother wants you downstairs as soon as you're ready. Your sister, the Duchess, is here for a visit.”

You sighed, already knowing what the visit was for.

“Finally! The diamond is awake!” Violet beamed with glee, taking your hands in hers and leading you to sit next to Daphne.

“Mama, I’ve just opened my eyes.”

Violet shook her head. “No my dear, you should be excited. You're the diamond of the season!”

“Unfortunately.” You whispered under your breath, causing you to receive a whack on the arm from Daphne.

“You know, I actually quite enjoyed my time as the season’s diamond, it was wonderful!” She exclaimed cheerfully.

You rolled your eyes with exasperation. “Yes, only because you got a loving husband out of it.”

“And so will you,” Daphne took your hands in hers, squeezing them with reassurance. “You just have to try.”

But I don’t want to get married…

Morpheus awoke with a light knock on the door.

If it was any other time, he wouldn’t have heard it. But he had been awake for hours. He hadn’t slept properly in a few days, only getting a couple of hours in.

“My lord?” He heard one of his most trusted maids say through the door.

“Yes, Lucienne?” He said exhaustedly.

“Your sister, Death, is here. Would you like me to tell her-”

Morpheus cut her off, suddenly wide awake now. “No. Tell her I shall be only a few moments.”

He rose from the bed, changing into a white dress shirt, and a pair of black trousers. The shirt was half buttoned because he couldn’t be bothered.

“Death.”

Death rose from her seat on the plush black couch, giving her dear brother a smile. “Dream, I have been waiting for you.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” Morpheus suddenly felt guilty.

She embraced him in a tight hug before sitting back down, patting the space next to her.

“It’s been too long my dear brother, how have you been?”

Morpheus sighed, he hated having to tell people things about him. “Okay, I suppose.”

Death frowned, but shrugged it off. “So, I saw you the other night at the announcement ball. You were talking with the Viscount Bridgerton.”

“Indeed I was, though I did not notice you there. Were you lurking in the shadows?”

He smirked and Death chuckled. “Like you wish you were doing?”

They both shook their heads and the laughter ceased.

“Talking of the Bridgertons, one of their ladies has yet again been named the Diamond of the Season.” Death tilted her head. “Have you spoken to her yet? You are good friends with her brother.”

“Anthony and I are simply good acquaintances, I don’t-”

“Do friends.” Death shook her head and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “But perhaps you should put yourself out there, maybe try and catch Miss Bridgerton’s attention.”

“I don’t want to catch anyone's attention. I’m fine as I am, alone.”

You had decided that balls and galas were now the bane of your existence.

Anthony stood off to the side with Kate, Daphne and Simon. All of them watching as you would be bombarded with men asking for a dance, or asking if you wanted a drink.

“No thank you.” You rejected once again.

You walked up the the four with an angry look. “Could you please do something about these animals? They won’t leave me alone!”

“Well you are the seasons diamond, men are going to be throwing themselves at your feet.” Kate responded sympathetically.

“Well can they throw themselves out of the window instead?!” You whisper-shouted.

Anthony have you a pointed look, getting ready to scold you until Simon interrupted him.

“Ah look who it is! Lord Morpheus.” Simon reached in for a handshake.

Morpheus reciprocated. “Good evening gentlemen, Duchess, Viscountess, and the splendid Diamond. You haven’t happened to have seen my sister have you?”

Anthony shook his head. “We haven’t, why do you ask?”

Morpheus sighed and leaned in a bit so no one else but your little group could hear. “She’s saying I need to get myself on the market, she’s been watching me all night.”

The whole time he spoke you couldn’t stop looking at him. You watched the way his jawline move as he uttered secret words and the way his eyes shone slightly in amusement.

You swallowed nervously, hoping no one else noticed your ogling, but of course, Kate and Daphne notice everything.

“Well Miss Diamond of the Season here was just saying how she would like all of the men to throw themselves out of the window instead of at her feet.” Kate chuckled slightly.

Your cheeks reddened when Morpheus turned to look at you. And then you gave him a sheepish smile.

He huffed in amusement at the remark, flashing you a smirk. “I can’t say you’re wrong.”

Why did you like the way his voice sounded? Why was he holding eye contact so intensely with you? 

“My dear guests.”

Once again, the interaction was cut short by another one of the Queen’s speeches.

“As you know, this is a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season.”

All eyes diverted to you for a few seconds before their attention went back to the Queen.

“So today, I have decided that the Diamond shall have a dance.”

Your eyes widened and Anthony laughed under his breath.

“I’m glad you find my suffering funny brother.” You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

“Come to the centre please, Miss Bridgerton.” The Queen beckoned you with her order and her hand.

You slowly made your way to the centre of the ballroom.

“The Diamond shall have a dance to celebrate their achievement, and they shall have their own choice of man to share this dance with.”

The Queen stood confidently with a smile, waiting impatiently for you to choose.

You looked desperately towards Anthony and your eyes frantically looked around the room.

You didn’t want to dance with any of these men, in fact you didn’t want to dance at all!

Morpheus’ eyes danced around the room, finding his sister.

Death looked at him and then nodded in your direction, clearly telling him that he should make himself known.

He simply looked away trying to ignore her, when his eyes locked with yours.

You raised your brows, silently asking him if you could dance with him.

He nodded once, letting you know that it was okay.

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and stalked towards Morpheus apprehensively.

“Might I share a dance with you my lord?”

[madwomansapologist]

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

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

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

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Morpheus | AO3

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

warnings: none.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Wide.

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

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

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

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

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

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[roguelov]

Imagine: One night Morpheus is extremely busy with the Dreaming that when you fall asleep he doesn't notice at all. Until Lucienne is running to him in a panic to tell him you're having a nightmare. Morpheus then immediately drops what he is doing to go to you immediately (maybe slightly because he never wants you to see that dark side of him). However, when he finds you, you're in like an extremely dark forest and you're just staring in awe at what is supposed to be one of his scariest nightmares. When you turn to him, you have tears in yours eyes and say "They're so beautiful." And Morpheus literally is stunned and completely melts. Maybe he starts introducing you to even more nightmares now that he feels like he can be completely open with you.

FUCK YESSSS

Dream will be absolutely frightened for you because of his newest creation, one he put a lot of effort. But the moment you turn around and tell him he did a wonderful job and how beautiful they are, he wants you there in the process as well. Yes, he will definitely introduce you to other nightmares but now he wants your input on it

He will create a new nightmare and call you to him and Dream will feel odd. It’s a feeling he’s not used to of being exposed in a certain way. Vulnerable yet not entirely. Your eyes will rake over his creation and maybe you will say he’s doing an amazing job or maybe you’ll give some gentle opinions on how to improve. Dream will be thankful either way. He will kiss the side of your head and say his thanks.

Also imagine Dream glaring at his newest nightmare knowing something is not quite right. He’s staring and up all day wondering what feels wrong then you stroll in say ‘needs more teeth/you added to many spike/whatever’ and Dream just whips his head to you and is internally like ‘I love you’ but only says ‘thank you my dear’ then does the adjustments and the nightmare is perfect

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Nine

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: Death, Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Previous | Masterlist

Fiddler's Green spreads before you, an expanse of rolling hills and blooming flowers. It's a place of peace and beauty, yet all you feel is an overwhelming emptiness. The colors seem muted, the scents dulled. You find yourself perched on a low branch of an ancient oak tree, staring blankly at the horizon.

"Why did it have to end like this?" you mutter, the sound barely escaping your beak.

Fiddler's Green appears beside you, his form solidifying from the landscape itself. His presence is a comfort, though it does little to lift the heavy fog of depression that clings to you.

"Sometimes," he begins softly, "the paths we tread are not the ones we would have chosen for ourselves."

You look at him, your eyes reflecting your turmoil. "I had so much left to do. So many things I wanted to say." Your voice breaks, the words catching in your throat. To him.

He nods, understanding etched into his features. "It's never easy to accept what has happened. But you must remember that your essence remains here in the Dreaming. You still have a purpose."

"Purpose?" You scoff, flapping your wings in frustration. "What purpose could I possibly have now?"

Fiddler's Green kneels down, bringing himself to eye level with you. His gaze is steady and filled with compassion. "You were always a part of this realm, even before you became one of us. Your presence here has always been significant."

"But it's not the same," you argue, the weight of your new reality pressing down on you.

"No," he agrees softly. "It's not the same. But that doesn't mean it can't be meaningful."

You fall silent, contemplating his words. The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the vibrant fields. The tranquility of Fiddler's Green contrasts starkly with the storm raging inside you.

"I just... I don't know how to move forward from this," you admit finally. "I was looking forward to so many things with Morpheus and now— now I'm a bird."

Fiddler's Green's gaze remains unwavering. "Moving forward doesn't mean forgetting what you've lost. It means finding a new way to exist within it."

You close your eyes, breathing in the scents of the Dreaming, trying to draw some strength from the world that once brought you so much solace. "I don't even know where to start."

"Start by allowing yourself to grieve," Fiddler's Green advises gently. "Grief is not a sign of weakness but a testament to the depth of your love and your loss."

The mention of love makes your heart ache. Morpheus' face flashes in your mind—those intense eyes, the way his presence filled every corner of the room, the rare moments of vulnerability he shared with you. You wonder how he's coping with your absence, whether he misses you as much as you miss him.

"Lucienne said I should go to him," you whisper, unsure if you even have the courage to face him now.

"She's right," Fiddler's Green responds, his voice firm but kind. "Morpheus needs to know you're still here, even if not in the form he remembers. You owe it to yourself—and to him—to find out what comes next."

You shake your head, feathers rustling with the motion. "I can't face him like this," you say, voice tinged with a mix of fear and defiance. "I refuse to show him what I've become."

Fiddler's Green sighs, a sound like wind through leaves. "It's not about what you've become, but who you still are."

You hop from the branch, taking to the air with a swift flap of wings. The sky stretches wide and blue above you, but it feels like a cage. You fly aimlessly, avoiding the paths that lead to Morpheus' palace. Each flap of your wings seems to take you further from the courage you once had.

Lucienne finds you perched on a gargoyle overlooking a vast garden. She looks up at you, eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and understanding. "He's worried about you," she says, her voice carrying the weight of her words.

"I know," you respond, barely more than a whisper. "But I can't—"

"He's not as unfeeling as he seems," Lucienne interrupts gently. "You meant more to him than perhaps even he realizes."

Your heart clenches at her words, but the fear remains. "I can't stand the thought of seeing disappointment in his eyes."

"Disappointment?" Lucienne's expression softens further. "He's more likely to feel relief that you're still here in any form."

You want to believe her, but doubt gnaws at you. "What if he sees me as a failure?"

Lucienne shakes her head slowly. "You're not a failure, and he won't see you that way."

You turn your gaze away from her, staring at the distant horizon. "I just need more time."

"Time won't change what needs to be faced," she says softly but firmly. "But I understand your need for it."

You nod, grateful for her patience even if you're not ready to accept it fully.

"Take your time," Lucienne continues. "But don't let fear keep you from what might bring both of you peace."

She leaves you then, walking back toward the library with a grace that belies the heaviness of her heart.

You remain on the gargoyle, watching her retreating figure until she disappears from sight. The silence of the Dreaming surrounds you, a stark contrast to the turmoil within.

Perched high above the garden, you let out a sigh that seems to echo in the vastness around you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper into the wind, unsure if you're speaking to Morpheus or yourself.

For now, facing him feels impossible—but deep down, part of you knows that this isn't something that can be avoided forever.

But today is not that day.

You find yourself lost in thought, perched on a branch in Fiddler's Green. The beauty around you is almost painful, a stark reminder of everything you've lost. You wonder if Morpheus feels the same, if he even misses you. The weight of your new existence presses down on you like a leaden shroud.

Meanwhile, in his palace, Morpheus stands by a window, staring out into the Dreaming with vacant eyes. His normally composed face is etched with lines of sorrow and confusion.

Lucienne watches him from a distance, her heart breaking for him. She finally steps forward, unable to bear his silent suffering any longer.

"My lord," she begins softly.

He doesn't turn to face her but acknowledges her presence with a slight nod. "What is it, Lucienne?"

"Y/N is in Fiddler's Green," she says gently but firmly. You’ve been moping and punishing yourself long enough.

Morpheus' eyes narrow slightly as he processes her words. "I cannot feel their presence," he says, a touch of confusion lacing his usually steady voice. "Not in Fiddler's Green or anywhere in the Dreaming."

Lucienne steps closer, her gaze unwavering. "They are there," she insists. "If you would go and see for yourself, I am sure that your melancholy would lessen."

He shakes his head slowly. "If they are there I do not wish for them to see me like this," he admits, his voice strained.

Lucienne places a hand on his arm, a rare gesture of comfort. "You owe it to yourself—and to them—to see for yourself," she says softly. "They need you now more than ever, just as you need them."

Morpheus closes his eyes briefly, as if summoning strength from deep within. Finally, he nods. "Very well," he murmurs. "I will go."

Lucienne watches as he steps through a portal that leads directly to Fiddler's Green, her heart heavy with hope and worry. You remain on your perch, staring into the distance when you sense a shift in the air. A presence approaches—a familiar one that sends your heart racing and feathers trembling.

Morpheus materializes in Fiddler's Green, his dark silhouette stark against the vibrant backdrop. He looks around, his gaze sweeping over the landscape until it lands on you. His eyes widen slightly as they meet yours—an unreadable expression flickering across his face. You feel a rush of emotions—fear, hope, love—all tangled together in a confusing knot. For a moment, neither of you move.

Finally, Morpheus speaks, his voice soft yet commanding. "Who are you?"

The question hits you like a physical blow. For all your fears about this moment, you'd never imagined he wouldn't recognize you.

Oh gods you make an ugly raven, don't you!

Morpheus' question hangs in the air, a knife poised to strike. You feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and probing, cutting through the layers of your new form. The courage you'd tried to summon evaporates, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

“Hi Morpheus,” you manage to croak out, your voice a mere whisper carried on the wind. For a moment, disbelief flickers in his eyes, quickly replaced by an intense sorrow. He takes a step closer, and you see the pain etched into every line of his face. He’s never looked so pathetic.

"Y/N?" His voice trembles slightly, an emotion you've rarely heard from him.

"Yeah,” you confirm, your heart aching at the sight of his anguish. "I'm sorry."

He reaches out a hand as if to touch you but stops midway, uncertain. His fingers hover in the air, trembling with restraint.

"How—" he begins but chokes on the word, unable to finish the question.

You flap your wings awkwardly, feeling more exposed than ever. "I had an episode. I fell into a coma and... I guess I died while I was asleep.” Your words come out stilted, each one a fresh wound reopening. “It’s a little muddled.”

Morpheus' eyes close briefly as if trying to absorb the magnitude of your revelation. When he opens them again, they're filled with an unbearable sorrow. "I failed you," he whispers.

"No," you interject quickly. "It wasn't your fault."

He shakes his head, his expression darkening. "I should have protected you."

You want to reach out and comfort him, but your new form makes it impossible. Instead, you let out a mournful caw, hoping it conveys some semblance of your feelings.

"Being here isn't so bad," you say softly, trying to lift some of the weight from his shoulders. "I still get to be in the Dreaming."

You see the determination harden in Morpheus' eyes. It's a look you've seen before—a resolve that bends worlds to his will. A chill runs through your little bird body as he steps closer, his fingers reaching out again. What is he going to do…

"Y/N," he says softly, voice imbued with a power that sends ripples through the Dreaming. "I will change your form. I will restore you to a semblance of what you once were."

Panic surges within you. "No, Morpheus, you can't just do that on a whim!" you protest, your voice cracking with urgency. "This isn't something you can fix with a snap of your fingers."

He halts, his gaze piercing into yours. "Why not? You deserve more than this... prison of feathers and beak."

"It's not about what I deserve," you argue, wings flapping in agitation. "It's about accepting what's happened and finding a way to move forward."

Morpheus' jaw tightens. "I cannot accept this. I cannot lose you in this way." His words are laced with desperation, an emotion so raw it cuts through the air like a knife.

"But changing my form won't change the reality," you insist, trying to make him understand. "I'll still be dead in the Waking World. I'll still be... different. You can’t changing reality just because you don’t like it!”

His eyes soften, but the resolve remains. "You have always been different," he speak. "That is why I cannot bear to lose you."

Before you can protest further, his hand reaches out and touches your feathers. A warmth spreads from where he touches you, enveloping your entire being. You feel a strange sensation, like you're being pulled apart and stitched back together all at once.

"No!" You try to pull away, but his grip is firm. The world blurs around you, colors blending and shifting until you're no longer sure where you end and the Dreaming begins. The sensation intensifies, and for a moment, everything goes dark.

When the world comes back into focus, you're no longer perched on the branch but standing on solid ground. You look down at yourself and see hands—human hands—where feathers used to be. You stagger back, disoriented by the sudden change. Your heart races as you take in your new form—a reflection of your old self but tinged with a dreamlike glow.

"Morpheus," you breathe out, both breathless and horrified.

He stands before you, eyes filled with a mixture of triumph and trepidation. "You see?" he whispers softly. "You are still here, with me.”

Tears well up in your eyes as conflicting emotions flood through you—relief at feeling somewhat human again but also an overwhelming sense of loss for what was taken from you without consent. Being a bird wasn’t all bad.

"I really want to slap you," You grouse at him. He doesn't blink at your words, reveling in the sight you once again in his realm.

"If that is what you wish, you may do so without fear of repercussion," the Endless has the balls to inform you, presenting his cheek. You want to grind your teeth together in exasperation, but you can't seem to stay mad at him. A sigh escapes your lips.

“That was a very stupid thing to do,” you mutter weakly, but the conviction in your voice wavers as he reaches out and gently cups your face.

“Perhaps not,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “But I could not bear to see you suffer and I do not wish to exist without you by my side..”

The warmth of his touch makes you quiver and tremble in place, and for a moment, all the anger and confusion melts away. You’re left with a raw, aching need—a need to feel connected to him again.

"I'm still angry at you," You inform him, lifting your chin. Your face betrays your words and he can see it. A moment goes by with you staring into his eyes, wondering what would happen now, then his hand pulls your lips to his and he kisses you. Right on the mouth. In front of Fiddler's Green. You forget to care and kiss back.

Responding instinctively, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, growing more urgent as the world around you fades away. In this moment, there is only Morpheus—his warmth, his intensity, his love.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing heavily. His forehead rests against yours as he gazes into your eyes. The stars in his eyes are blazing with vibrant elation.

“I missed you,” he admits softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tears well up in your eyes at his words and your shoulders slump in final resignation. “I missed you too,” you confess, the raw honesty of the moment breaking down any remaining walls you have tried to hold up.

Date Published: 9/4/24

Last Edit: 9/4/24

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