Age: 18 {Digital artist} {Anime, Manhwa simp, and will provide oc or reader x character fan arts and stories.} 💙💙💙💙 {Major bookworm} {Likes to ship OvO}
A/N: I won't be using 'reader' instead she (you) will be adressed as Reality or Rea. English is not my first language so kindly excuse my grammar. Also thank you for your patience! I was supposed to update this last Thursday, but school got in the way. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy reading this and thank you for giving this a shot. ^^
Warning: Character death, evil female lead.
Jessamy kept pleading to the primordial being to release her master. The only reason why Reality has yet to kill her was because the raven held a special place in her heart. She hates Dream, yes. But that doesn't mean she also hates his subjects.
She begged and begged, even mentioning the sleep sickness that has risen. Reality only stared at the Burgess’ house with cold eyes and replied.
“Let him and this shitty world suffer.”
The sky gloomed as the Magus looked out the window and was only able to see Jessamy. ‘He will die soon,’ Reality decided after she saw his plans for the raven.
“Fly back to the Dreaming, Dear Jessamy.” She waved her hand at the bird, white tendrils made of light engulfing her. The raven, against her will, flew away out of sight.
Reality returned to her world, not caring of the human realm going to chaos with the sleep sickness.
What greeted her there though, only caused her heart to ache. A paradise where it is always night. This was the place where they met, where they had their first everything...
And where it all went downhill.
At the altar where her new life with the King of Dreams should have begun, she stood. Hundreds of years has passed yet every fiber of her being always leads her here. Imprisoning Morpheus in a fish tank did not make her feel any better. Not even a little!
Marriage didn't even exist when Morpheus left her. But it already did in her world. And Dream introduced it to the humans in their sleep. That was not a good idea.
She believed he was mocking her by doing that. Right after he abandoned her, humans began finalizing their union with their other half through weddings. Soon a tradition started where the bride is to wear a white gown during their wedding. Oh how that infuriated her.
Now just like her own, most married couples on earth did not meet their happy end.
No, happy endings are just for fairy tales.
Months later, she returned to the waking world. Only to find out that not only had Burgess died, but Jessamy had been killed. The young Alex had buried the raven after he shot her. Her soul lingering around her own grave.
She wept for the innocent raven. Guilt drowning her hate for Morpheus. The humans could not hear her cries, but Dream did.
"Reality..."
From where he's trapped, he could hear her familiar wails of pain and sorrow. How could he forget the sound of it when he caused her to do that for the first time centuries ago.
Though Reality cursed him and probably had something to do with his capture, he couldn't help but blame himself for pushing her to do this. For being weak to get captured by mere humans and for being so selfish to do as he pleased at their wedding.
He grieved once again for his friend, and for his first love who he will never get back again.
They both grieved that day.
Tag list: @musicconversedance @cleverzonkwombatsludge @slutforescapism
A/N: I won't be using 'reader' instead she (you) will be adressed as Reality or Rea.
Warning: Good turned evil female lead.
Prologue
Morpheus' love life is known to be full of tragedies. Some would even say it's cursed.
Which is the truth.
Before Calliope and Nada, there was Reality. A being from another world greater than the Dreaming and the Sunless Lands.
Reality, the goddess of creation. Very similar yet more powerful than Dream. She was the very first lover of the King of Nightmares and Dreams. And the being who cursed every single one of his relationships.
A heart that was once filled with love and kindness, now chained by resentment and thirst for vengeance. It's hard to believe a creature as great as she is can be reduced to a victim of love.
~~~~
Reality watched from behind as the greedy humans summon her ex. To her, Morpheus is no different than the beings before her. Egoistic and selfish.
Oh, I forgot to mention that Roderick Burgess got the angel's feather from none other than Reality. She wants the Endless to suffer just like how he made her suffer.
'I wonder.... Will this make you finally learn your lesson for loving a human, dear Morpheus?' Her luminous grey eyes glared at his form as he manifested inside the circle.
A satisfied smile appeared on her face. 'No one, not even Death nor Destiny will rescue you.'
"They know better than to get in my way."
As Burgess and his followers take Dream's tools, Reality turned and left the place. Her skin turning pale the farther she walked from her ex.
Thanks for reading! It's short but since I'm still hooked with The Sandman, I will continue this fanfic soon.
Fire on Fire | chapter. 02 | Morpheus x Scarlet Witch!Reader
Pairing: Morpheus x Scarlet Witch!Reader (she/her)
Summary: The Lord of Dreams falling in love with a being capable of spontaneous creation – what could possibly go wrong?
Note: You are not Wanda Maximoff. You’re just you who happens to be the Scarlet Witch and all that entails.
previous chapter: chapter. 01 |
A/N: no beta we die like jessamy
Dream of the Endless stood outside a quaint red brick house on a quiet street at the edge of a small village not too far from London. Ordinary and terribly common, blending in with the rest of the houses on either side of it and even the ones across. Why would his search lead him here?
A flashing image in his mind’s eye had him sucking in a sharp breath – an image of you and a dull stranger living out your lives in such an unremarkable home, in domesticated bliss – with a dog perhaps? Or a few offspring? His face darkened at the implication of that thought.
“Cursed they be who would dare to tear us asunder.” He recalled the vow he made to you – one he fully intends to keep.
Morpheus followed the stone path dotted on the ground leading up to the red door atop a small set of steps. Millenniums of courtly etiquette compelled him to knock out of instinct and by the time he realized what he’d done it was too late. So – he waited.
“Darling, is that you?” A bout of relief and horror washed over him in equal measure at the familiar ring of your voice. Relief for the rather joyful colour in your tone. Horror for the heart-rending realization that you had moved on as he feared – with the dull stranger so beneath him, so beneath you.
The Lord of Dreams considered turning back, retreat to his realm where he could lick his wounds and nurse his pride. Just as he took a step back, however, the red door swung open to unveil a face he hungered for all these years. He felt his eyes sting then.
Your face scrunched in concern, reaching out to cup the side of his face, tenderly stroking the damp skin there, “Hey…” you cooed, eyes roving over his tearful face, “Come inside and tell me what happened.”
Morpheus felt his body move along with you in a trance-like state, eyes glassy and vulnerable. The only feeling was the burning warmth of your hand in his as you led him through the corridor and into a homely kitchen bespeckled with hints of you – from the mismatched mugs seen through the glass window of your cupboard to the opened copy of The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien laid out on the table by the window with the dark green curtains.
You sit him down at the table before taking your place across from him, hands still interlocked, “Speak to me, my love.”
It was here that Morpheus observed something amiss. So overcome was he by his loss of you and the natural way in which you held him so sweetly that he unconsciously turned a blind eye to the glaring fact that you have not seen him for a century.
This was most certainly you. He had no doubt of it. That only baffles him further, however.
“Morpheus?”
“How…” He started aimlessly, unsure where to go from here, “How can you be…” His free hand gestured towards you, “…like this – after what I’ve done?”
The corner of your lips quirked up in a mixture of confusion and amusement, “What are you talking about? And what have you done, my love?”
“I abandoned you!” He exclaimed with a tortured heart as his hand held in yours swiftly retreated back to his side, “I—” before he could go off on a tangent of self-hatred, he noticed the swirls of red in your eyes. Oh.
“Oh, Y/N, what have you done?”
Your eyes narrowed then, full of suspicion and distrust. You rose from your seat at the table and added some distance between you and the Dream Lord, “You are not my Dream.” You stated, calm and absolute in your claim. One hand by your side shaped an orb of red energy into being with tendrils of loose magic curling between your fingers, “Is that you, Desire? Have you come to torment us again?”
Morpheus moved to stand slowly and carefully, hands held out in front of him as if in surrender, “It is I, my sweet, your Sandman,” He implored cajolingly, “You must let me hel—” He felt an immediate tightness on his throat, your magic reaching out for his neck for an unfaltering grip. His hands clawed at nothing while keeping his eyes steadfastly locked to yours. “I—I wo—uld ne…er—” despite the struggle, Morpheus persevered, “—lie…to you.” His eyes watered from the pressure of your magic, “Lo—ok…inside.”
You understood what he meant, and it threatened your resolve.
Morpheus felt the invasion not long after, flipping through his memories and every thought he has ever had. Sometimes he would feel you pause at some– like the stunt in the throne room after a verbal foreplay gone too far; then you moved to the tender moment in a hidden alcove in his library, his head on your lap as you read to him the story of one Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy; then to the evening of your first fight, when jealousy got the better of him.
As you ransacked his mind it gave Morpheus an opening to enter yours and there he saw your life for the last hundred years. He saw you beg Death, made whatever promises you thought would appease the Endless enough to bring you to him. He saw his beloved sister turn you away. He watched Desire took his form to twist your longing for your Dream Lord. He watched you fall to your knees when it finally dawned on you that he was never coming back. He watched as your magic fully engulfed your being and manifested this delusion you have imprisoned yourself in.
He felt the pressure leave his throat and his hands landed right on the table to support his physical form from keeling over. He raised his head to look at you piece the pieces together – watching as your face shift from confusion to utter devastation. As if the feeling of abandonment for a hundred years rushed to you all at once.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You chanted like a prayer, knees buckling until they hit the tiled floor, your hands clutching your aching heart, “I—I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” You could only sob.
Your Dream moved around the table to approach you without hesitation, falling to his knees in front of you to drown you in his embrace, “No, my love,” He cooed, his fingers brushing through your hair, “I’m sorry.”
“Cursed they be who would dare to tear us asunder.” Here, with you in his arms, he vowed anew.
special thanks to @thegreatestsandwich for the prompt!
tag list: @lenasvoid | @iwantagoodstorytoread | @whocaresinlifeife | @starsleeping-m | @secretsthathauntus | @shitpostrandomness | @leighanne03 | @strugsto-func | @lol-im-done | @kittycatcait2 | @imissyoudarling | @toastedside | @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm | @mysticalpandora | @blueeclipsepaperstudent | scratched out urls means I couldn't tag you for some reason, sorry!
Summary: The Lord of Dreams falling in love with a being capable of spontaneous creation – what could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Morpheus x Scarlet Witch!Reader (she/her)
Note: You are not Wanda Maximoff. You’re just you who happens to be the Scarlet Witch and all that entails.
“There is something you must know…”
Morpheus raised his head, curious, at the hint of hesitation found in his usually steadfast sister.
“Y/N came to see me not long after your capture. She—” Death paused there, looking anywhere but into a pair of stormy orbs, “She was looking for you.” It was here that Morpheus realized it wasn’t hesitation he sensed earlier, it was guilt. “And I did not have the heart to confess the truth.”
Though dry lips parted no air slipped past, eyes flickering from one thing to everything yet seeing nothing. The words were loud in his mind, almost making him numb from the echoes, “I don’t understand.” He understood the words, he supposed, but not quite their meaning when strung together. “If you did not share with her my predicament, what did you say?”
There was something pathetic, he thought, in the way he felt his heart break at the drop of one word. “Nothing.” whispered his beloved sister, whom he had complete and utter faith in your safekeeping.
His pure black hatred for all with the name Burgess grew tenfold. A hundred years he deprived him of you – unforgivable in itself, but to learn that for those years you were left to believe he had abandoned you made him want to empty his stomach and fill it with even more hatred.
“You let her think I deserted her?” The words lacked the anger he felt. Disappointed in his sister he may be, but he knew deep in his heart who was at fault, whose head he wanted on a pike – dead or alive.
“Where is she?” Morpheus pressed, all gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.
“I tried to find her when I realized the severity of your circumstances, to undo my wrong, but– but I couldn’t. I’m unable to find her still.” The desperation was evident in her voice. Death dared a step forward, slow and careful, hands spread out before her as though to placate a caged animal. Accurate, she supposed.
“I’m sorry, little brother.” The sincerity was clear as day, but they fell on deaf ears. “I feared the prophecy might—”
Morpheus glared at her for that. “Damn the prophecy!”
Death sighed, forced to take a step back by the pressure of his anger radiating his person. “You know very well, deny as we might, that it will come to pass.” There was an edge to her voice this time, determined to be heard.
“The Scarlet Witch is not born; she is forged. She has no coven or need for incantation. It is her destiny to destroy the world.”
Neither spoke but the words rang clear to both Endless – echoes from a grave warning eons ago.
A/N: honestly i was just desperate to write something for dream and as i'm a marvel and dc hoe and currently obsessed with the scarlet witch and dream respectively — this came about. my requests is currently open if you have any and let me know if you want a part 2 lmao
Charity Clair Crest fell from another dimension and into the realm of the gods. More specifically, in Poseidon's kingdom.
While he is obsessed with his perfection as a god, Charity is obsessed with the perfection and grace of her attacks. Along with her goddess-like beauty, impenetrable skin and immortal life, Poseidon met her gaze.
It was the first time his eyes met another without blood being shed, her existance and because his trident was yet to be made.
(Hounds: Artificial gods or 'mystics' that were once human who got modified. Their main purpose is to kill anything or anyone from beyond their world that threatens earth.)
DISCLAIMER! I do not own Record of Ragnarok or its characters. I only own Charity, some ocs, their abilities and past. Please do not steal them because they belong to my manga. Also englsih is not my first language, so you'll spot a few grammatical errors. And when you do, please correct me. (^3^)
Also in this chapter, Ragnarok hasn't started yet. And this is the time when the gods were a little bit younger. Younger as in Adamas is still alive.
_____________________________________
The batle was brutal, anywhere one gazed; blood, bones and flesh of different creatures painted the battlefield. Yet one warrior was left untainted. Standing tall as her needle like sword pierce the head of a minotaur with three eyes, Charity ended the batle. The ones left of the enemy fleet ran back to their base.
And like that, to the Hounds the war ended.
"Finally!" Charity cracked her neck to the side while groaning. Her hands trembled for hours of restless combat. She looked around and noticed her team-mates survived as well.
'As expected... a fight this simple is still no match for those two.' She watched as her team meet each other like the rest. 'I'm glad they're okay...'
Over all the many hounds fighting, Charity was the only one not covered in blood and dirt. Her white hair still remained flawless and pure with her pale face still clean.
Her and her team-mates looked at each other as they came closer. She noticed her black haired combat specialist, Vermilion, looked troubled. Like she was somewhat unsatisfied by the fight thrown by their enemies.
And with a bright flash from above. One by one, every Hound was sucked into a mirror that appeared out of nowhere before her very eyes. With her combat specialist's reaction speed, she shattered the portal just by looking at it. She did it with the other one that tried to pull Charity in too. But when she saw their weapon specialist, Fiona, was halfway in the portal, she rushed to pull her out. She couldn’t risk destroying this one because her comrade could be cut in half. And so with the strength of the forced pulling them. Vermilion was pulled in too.
A portal appeared below Charity. She didn't fight it, hoping for the best that wherever this thing will bring her, her friends would be there too. As she's swallowed into the unknown abyss, she cursed the creatures behind this.
_____________________________________
(Poseidon's Kingdom)
The perfectionist of a god was in the midst of enjoying the peace in his grand throne room when a bright light made him drop his book and get his weapon ready. He wasn't expecting any visitors, and the only one who usually makes an entrance like this is Apollo. Though he doesn't have the guts to come unannounced in this cold hearted god's home.
With a shriek, Charity fell from the bright mirror-like portal directly above Poseidon. Their eyes met, and the Hound swore, his eyes were the most beautiful pair she has ever seen.
His eyes widened slightly for a split second before he aimed to stab her like a fish. But he underestimated her. She swiftly gripped her needle-like sword and swung. She deflected the tip of the trident to the side and gracefully landed a kick on Poseidon's broad chest. But instead of being pushed back, he used his forearm to take the blow.
He would never admit it; her simple yet elegant movements were beyond perfect. 'It would be a waste to kill her. Not only is she emiting an odd energy, but her hair is too unnatural for her to be a filthy human.' (Note that hair dye doesn't exist yet.) Yet her heartbeat was too loud to be a god's and he can tell even from the distance she placed between them, she was almost out of breath. 'But still too flawed to be a god.'
Instead of asking who she is, he asked...
"What the hell are you?"
A/N: It's short I know! Haha but I'm just so excited for this story! Don't worry the next ones will be longer, I hope you liked this fanfic!
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