Summary: The Lord of Dreams has to rescue his witch from her demise at the stake.
A/N: 1675 Morpheus lives in my head rent free. This might be ooc. And it's long and maybe not historically accurate linguistically speaking.
Angst/Fluff. Slow burn? Pun not intended.
Part two. Part three.
1680, London.
Your breath was ragged as you pushed a chair against your door, trying to prevent anyone from getting inside. You heard their whispers earlier, you knew their plans, the village you've been living in for the last two decades has found you out and you will be burned because of your secret.
Your hands are trembling as you brush your hair back, almost too hard, without much thinking you took a leather bag, taking things that you deemed important, you could still flee, make a run for it and live.
Books, diaries, cards and amulets, you wished you could take it all, all the memories but there is no time.
Shivers ran through your back as you heard them, the mob, the shouts, someone must've known you wanted to escape. Your gaze roamed around your home searching for something, anything.
So you knelt.
"Dream Lord." You called to the air, clasping your hands together.
His steps are slow, walking with no rush, clothes blend with the shadows. The Lord of Dreams has heard your callings, he has told you many times that he was not at your beck and call, that he cannot save you for any small inconvenience you come by. And for the most part of the century you've stuck to those rules, if you were so insisting this time it meant trouble.
Leaves crush against his shoes, everything is silent as he opens the door of your home. The raven perched on his shoulder ruffles her feathers, sensing the heavy energy.
His expression doesn't change much, his starry eyes only took into the scene, your home was wrecked, everything you owned was broken and there was no sight of you. His jaw clenched as he saw the small altar you have for him undone and ruined.
"Please, my lord. Please." He could feel your calls at the back of his mind, they were now more desperate, pleading. Jessamy caws at him, catching his attention before she took flight again, guiding him.
"I do not deserve to be put in the pyre!" You shouted, everyone in the trail looking at you. "I am not a follower of satan!"
"You have lived in this village for twenty years, yet you hold no signs of aging and have no children, you look younger than any woman in here, but you are older." The judge says, his gaze is scrutinizing.
"Much more older." The man continued, something was handed to him, a piece of clothing, he stepped closer, you could sense anger but there was fear, everyone in the room was afraid of you to some degree.
"This fell from your blouse one day, is this not you?" He asks as he unfolds the cloth, revealing a small portrait of you, he turns it around, the date in it reads 1568 following with a small legend of your name. One of your lovers was a painter, you remember feeling so cherished when they showed a painting of yourself, now you only feel cold sweat running down your skin.
"That is my grandmother." You said confidently, your chin up and gaze not waving from the judge's. But he did not believe you.
"Your name is in this portrait. You are over a hundred years old." He stated before walking away. "I have never harmed anyone in this village!" You plead with a crack on your voice. The judge turns around, meeting your gaze again.
"You are a temptress, seducing women to do your bidding, making innocent men suffer from the most bizarre dreams after meeting you."
It was true, mostly, the women were pretty, those that were unhappy with their husbands found themselves in your home more often than not. And the men were insufferable, they made you angry with their ignorance, with their attempts at courting you, perhaps one or two suffered your wrath in the form of nightmares. But you were already lectured about that by your patron.
"You shall be burned, return to hell with your master!"
"They will burn her tomorrow." Morpheus said to his sister, who stood in his gallery after being called.
"Humans have done that recently, it is quite a shame." Death spoke softly, a soft sympathetic expression on her face, her brother wasn't pleased, in the slightest, she would dare to say he was angry about your demise. Dream knows your nature as a witch doesn't grant immortality, only longevity, and he doesn't know of any mortal that survived being burned alive.
"She has been working for me for eighty years. I granted her protection in exchange for her loyalty and work. She has not failed me." His star filled eyes looked away.
"She became important to you." Death says with a small smile, leaning her body against a wall. Morpheus let out a small huff, side eying her, instantly, almost burning holes into her.
"I shall keep my word. As she kept hers." He said simply, almost offended at the claim from his sister.
"And how do you plan to do that?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"I have a favor to ask from you, my sister." He stepped closer, his eyes meeting hers.
Everything is a blur. You haven't slept all night, but who would in a dark cold cell. You could hear your heartbeat on your ears, merging with the screams of insults and the occasional rock being thrown at you as they dragged you around the village.
They tie you. You don't understand what the preacher is saying, if he is condemning you or asking God to have mercy on your soul, you cannot concentrate, your eyes look down as the wood piles around you.
"Dream Lord... please, help me." You whispered with trembling lips, you thought of yourself as strong, you cannot help but weep now.
And so it begins, soft crackling cuts your thoughts, the smell of wood burning fills your lungs, the smoke starting to rise and cloud your surroundings. You looked up at the sky before closing your eyes.
Gasping.
Erratic gasping for air, your eyes shoot open, your body trembling frantically as you choke on tears, making you cough, you sit up, hugging yourself.
A soft cawing noise makes you lift your head. The now familiar raven with a white chest hops onto the bed you now realize you're resting in.
"Calm yourself." His voice reverberates through your mind making you jump a bit.
"My- my- mas-ter." You choked out the words.
His fingers found their way to your chin, the touch is gentle, just a small coaxing for you to look at him.
"That was no dream." The dream lord spoke, almost like he could read your mind at the moment. "And yes, you are still alive." He reassured, his tone laced with a discreet softness that wasn't there before. But the lord of dreams wasn't sure you even understood him.
"I burned. I could feel it." You whispered out, trembling slightly at the memory. His fingers lingered for a moment but he caught himself and pulled away, tucking his hands into his pockets "They said some vile things about me." You sniffle.
"Do not let their ignorance harm you further." That was all the comfort he offered before silence fell upon the room.
"Those are yours." Morpheus pointed with his eyes, making you look at the leather bag on the nightstand. He could feel the relief in your expression.
"Thank you, master. I am in your depth." You mumbled out, bowing your head in gratitude, your hands still caressing your own skin in seek of comfort.
"There is no need to thank me. I merely kept my word, so you do not have to give me anything in return." Morpheus said before walking to the door. "I will send someone to fetch you for dinner, in the meantime I suggest you rest." With that he left, leaving you and Jessamy alone, she tilted her head at you before hopping onto your lap, your hand resting on her body as the feeling of her feathers grounded you.
Morpheus closed the door of your room, he walked away, his hand pulling from his pocket, looking down at the small portrait of you for a moment before tucking it back into his coat, keeping it safe, and most important, a secret.
"What a weekend, literally end up dead."- Reader, 1680.
A/N: (Divider 1) (Divider 2) hiiiii, heeeyyyy, we're SO BACK Sandman girlies and theys, omggggggggggg, send requests as always I might take some time to do them. Also I do not support NG, idk if it needs to be said, but now u know.
Hi! love your work. Can you please write about Orpheous' wedding day, but with reader accompanying Dream as his wife/partner? I love the little snippet we had of him as a father and I would love to read some more about it.
In the light of love
Morpheus x F!Reader
Warnings: none this is just fluff and cuteness, no use of y/n, not proofread
Word count: 2.3K
a/n: i think i ended up focusing more on the readers and Dreams relationship (the fatherly aspect is still present though). Hope you enjoy it even so!
“Don’t pout.”
“I am not.”
You gave Dream a look that said, Yes, you are. He was pouting, but not because he was angry or in one of his moods. He was pouting because… well… that was just his face.
You made your way over to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Dream would not let many get this close to him, be this affectionate toward him. But you were different. Not just because you were his wife and queen of the Dreaming, but because you made him feel understood. So he did not fear being vulnerable near you.
You pressed your nose into his neck as your hand moved to caress his locks. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.
“Come on, Morpheus. We’ll be late if we don’t get going.”
He stared at the paper in his hands. There was much work to be done, but he would not miss his son’s wedding day. Still, he lingered, standing before his desk.
“What’s bothering you, my King?”
Dream let out a soft smile at your question. You were always able to read him like an open book. It should frighten him, just how much you understood him—but it didn’t. If anything, it brought him a small comfort.
“It is because of Calliope?”
Dream tensed a bit at the mention of her name, and you felt it, your arms moving to wrap around his waist, pressing your chest gently against his back in a soothing manner.
“You have nothing to worry about, Morpheus. Calliope bears no ill will toward you. She hasn’t for a long time.”
“It’s not me I worry for.”
You let out a small scoff, unwinding your body from his. Stepping to the side, you walked to the other end of the desk. Dream watched as you moved, his gaze flitting from the papers on his desk to you. You poised yourself at the opposite end, crossing your arms.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Dream. I’m not some fragile creature.” You nudged a small ball that sat on the desk. “And Calliope doesn’t wish me anything but luck.”
“Luck?”
“Well, she of all people knows how difficult you can be.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face at Morpheus’ disdainful look.
“Difficult, am I?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing in a way he rarely allowed.
“You are,” you said firmly, tilting your head. “But only to those who don’t know you. Me? I’ve seen the real you.”
Dream’s expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability passing over his usually stoic features. “And what do you see when you look at me now?”
You smiled, walking slowly around the desk so you were directly in front of him. “I see a father. A son. A brother. But most importantly…” You leaned in, brushing your lips against the corner of his mouth, a whisper of a kiss. “…I see my husband. My King.”
For a long moment, Dream said nothing, only letting the faintest hum of a sigh escape him. Then, finally, he reached out, fingers brushing the side of your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
“And I see my Queen,” he said softly, making you smile against his lips.
You gave him a soft kiss which he happily accepted. You pressed your forehead to his, smiling against his cool skin.
“Now come, your son is to be wed and we shall not miss it.” You laced your fingers against his. “You cannot say no. Your Queen commands you.”
“Is that so?”
You merely smiled at him. Dream straightened, his usual regal composure returning, though now tempered with a quiet warmth.
“Lead the way,” he murmured. And together, hand in hand, despairing in a mist of sand.
You and Dream had been the first to arrive, followed moments later by Calliope. You exchanged cheerful greetings; it was meant to be a happy day, and no matter their history, Calliope and Morpheus both loved their son dearly, so they would make the effort to remain civil—for Orpheus’ sake.
Once the young man saw you, his mouth opened into a bright smile. He ran over, giving his mother an embrace before turning to you. You returned his smile, opening your arms to him. He accepted the hug; you may not have been related by blood, but you always treated him as one of your own, and Orpheus had always seen you as family. There were no grievances between you, and you were glad for it.
Orpheus did not hug his father, and although you wished Morpheus would embrace his child, you knew it was not his custom, and you could not force him to do so.
“Have the rest of the family arrived, Orpheus?”
“Oh, I’m not sure. I’ve only seen Aunt Teleute.”
You relaxed at the news. Death had always been the easiest of the Endless siblings to get along with. You were glad she was here; if anything, her presence gave you a reason to excuse yourself. You placed a kiss on Morpheus’ cheek, bidding him a silent goodbye. You wanted to give the family a moment alone. You could sense Orpheus was nervous, and you hoped Dream would help calm him.
You wandered along the marvelous stone pillars until you found the bride-to-be, accompanied by none other than Death. You approached the two women, smiling as you made your way to them.
“Why, Eurydice, how beautiful you are. I am Morpheus’ wife—it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear. Orpheus speaks highly of you.”
“Thank you, my lady. The honor is mine.”
You gave the young girl a tender smile, tugging her into a short embrace before turning to Death. You wasted no time with greetings, giving Death a strong hug.
“It’s good to see you, Teleute.”
“Always a pleasure.”
You noticed Eurydice glancing around. You gave Death a knowing look.
“Nervous, dear?”
Eurydice flushed a bit at your question, embarrassed.
“I must admit I am a bit… wary,” she confessed. “It’s not that I don’t love Orpheus—I do, very much actually. It’s just that… well…” She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.
“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, my dear.”
You leaned in closer, speaking low so only Eurydice could hear your words.
“The day I married Morpheus, I almost fainted.”
Eurydice’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“It’s true. I was there. We had to keep fanning her until she was standing at the altar.”
You and Death laughed at the memory. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the day you’d finally married the love of your life. You let out a small sigh, moving to grab Eurydice’s hands.
“Love is an odd thing. It makes you feel desperate and afraid, but it also makes you feel wonder and hope. Orpheus is a good man. He’ll make a fine husband. And I know it’s nerve-wracking finding yourself inserted into his crazy family, but something I’ve learned over the years… they’re not as bad as they seem.”
As if summoned by your words, Orpheus appeared, running to Eurydice. They shared a soft kiss, foreheads resting together for a moment.
You felt someone standing beside you and glanced up at Morpheus. You smiled at him, allowing your hand to slip into his.
“How did it go?” you whispered.
Morpheus watched Orpheus and Eurydice for a while before turning to look at you.
“He really loves her.”
You smiled. “So does she.”
You leaned against Morpheus’ shoulder, savoring his proximity.
“Ah, young love. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Morpheus placed a kiss atop your hair, which surprised you.
“What was that for?”
Morpheus gave you a rare smile. “Just for being you. For being with me, through it all.”
The ceremony was beautiful. All of Dream's siblings came and all though he did not show it you knew he was glad for their presence. As the couple shared their vows Dream’s hand tightened around yours, almost protectively, and for a moment, you were aware of the contrast between him and the human world around you—the calm certainty of Dream and the trembling anticipation of Orpheus. And yet… they were alike in one way: both hearts beating a little faster than usual because of someone they loved.
Dream’s hand in yours was warm, strong, grounding. You could feel the tension in him, the faint pull of the responsibility he always carried with him. But in that moment he was present, fully here, for his child, and it made your chest ache with love for him.
When Orpheus slipped the ring onto Eurydice’s finger, you caught a glimmer of a smile on Dream’s face. It was fleeting, subtle, but it was there—just for you to see. You squeezed his hand, letting him know silently that you noticed.
The reception that followed was filled with laughter, music, and warmth. You noticed the Endless siblings mingling in their own peculiar ways—Death gently teasing a few mortal relatives, Delirium flitting through the crowd in her chaotic delight, Destiny observing with quiet approval—but always circling back to Dream, who sat at the edge of the ceremony. A quiet shadow hidden from sight. But you saw him.
You always did.
Later, as the newlyweds shared their first dance, you found a quiet moment with Dream near one of the pillars. The lights shimmered like starlight across the stone floor, casting a soft glow around the two of you. You settled beside him, watching Orpheus and Eurydice dance.
“He hates it.”
You turned to face Dream.
“What does he hate?”
“Dancing.”
“Like father, like son.”
Morpheus turned to look at you, his eyes catching the longing way you glanced at the dancing couples.
“And yet he still does it anyway.”
You turned to him.
“Of course he does, Morpheus. He loves her. He wants to make her happy.”
You said the words as if they were obvious, as if thinking anything else were impossible. It was then that Dream realized just how different you were from him. You had given up your mortality when you married him, and even though years had passed since then, you still held a knowledge of mortals that Dream often forgot. You knew how they felt because you had been one. And you had given all that up—for him.
He rose from his seat, standing before you. You gazed up at him questioningly. He placed his hand out to you.
“May I have this dance, my Queen?”
Your lips parted in soft surprise. He loathed dancing. You knew just how much he despised it. And so, even though you had always adored dancing, you never asked Morpheus to join you, opting instead to observe. But here he was, offering you the one thing he knew you wanted despite his hatred for it.
It was such a simple act, yet it held so much behind it. You took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Dream guided you to the floor, earning a few curious glances. But when the music started, and Dream’s hand moved to wrap around your body, the only person you could see was him.
The music swirled around you, soft and ethereal, as Dream’s hand rested gently on your waist. Your other hand found his, fingers intertwining naturally. You felt the faintest tension in him at first—the stiffness of someone unused to such vulnerability—but as he guided you across the floor, it softened.
“You’re… surprisingly graceful,” he murmured, his voice low, almost uncertain.
You smiled, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “So are you, when you want to be,” you teased lightly. “Though you might not admit it.”
Dream allowed a quiet hum of amusement to escape him. “I do not dance often,” he said, voice soft, “but I… wished to be with you. To give you this moment.”
The words made your chest tighten. His rare vulnerability, his willingness to step out of his comfort for you… it made your heart ache in the best possible way.
You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his chest.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
Dream’s hand moved to cradle the back of your head gently, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face.
The two of you moved together as if the world had narrowed to just this floor, just this moment. All the formalities, all the watchers, all the Endless duties—they vanished, leaving only the warmth of his hand in yours, the slow rhythm of the music, and the quiet certainty of being together.
“Father?”
Orpheus’ voice broke through the little bubble you and Dream had found yourselves in. You turned to look at him, still clinging to Eurydice, for a moment before glancing back at Dream.
Morpheus’ eyes moved slowly over his son’s features. He stepped away from you softly, giving you space. Eurydice released Orpheus as Dream approached him. The two of you watched as father and son met halfway, standing in silence for a moment.
And then, to your surprise, Morpheus reached out, pulling Orpheus into a loving embrace. Your hand moved to clutch at your heart, the sight before you stirring deep emotion.
Morpheus pulled back just enough to look down at his son with pride. He pressed a gentle kiss to Orpheus’ temple before speaking.
“I am very proud of you, son.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Morpheus opened his mouth, paused for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.
“I love you, my son.”
You could see the brief surprise on Orpheus’ face at the words, quickly replaced by pure joy. He clung to his father, giving in to a fierce hug.
“I love you too, Father.”
And when Dream’s eyes found yours in the crowd, you saw his lips move softly to form the words, “I love you.” You responded with a quiet, “Forevermore,” causing him to give you a small, rare smile.
And there, beneath the starlight, basking in the glow of the fires around you and the joy in the air, you witnessed something you had always known to be true: even the Endless, beings of great power and eternal life, could be brought to kneel before the force of love.
CONTENT WARNING — afab!reader, ancient greece au, pining, morpheus here really is a yearner, sexual tension, lil bit of blasphemy (?), there is a ton of lore behind this but I'll get back to it pretty soon, fingering, mentions of wet dreams, oral sex (f receiving), straddling, lots of pet names / WORD COUNT — 5.k ( ao3 link! )
ANYA'S CORNER — oh, look at what the cat dragged in lmao
hello everyone! it's been so long since I posted a fic of mine here, and what better comeback than with a repost from the sandman universe? I binge watched season two in a day and it made me remember how I used to love this show (and morpheus), so I decided to post here the first installment from my three-part au from three years ago. enjoy!
P.S: my English is pretty rusty so sorry in advance for any mistake you might find!
REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
“Your heart shall soon belong to him alone. You being my High Priestess has been a blessing, and I thank you for your service by my temple. Now it’s time for you to explore yourself, your passions outside these walls of white marble.
I’ll always be with you in spirit, but you need to leave behind my voice and your other spiritual sisters.
A whole new world awaits you, and so does the one who will fall for you. Farewell, my child".
Your eternal Lord was no more. His words, spoken in a golden-hued vision he sent the night before, had hit you unexpectedly.
You’d been his vessel for over twelve years and he never confessed anything unsettling regarding the messages you’ve delivered, or discredited your gifts whatsoever.
But you were not going to contrast his orders, for Apollo was the god of prophecies and utter truth. If he said another destiny was about to tangle you in the spires of love, you must leave him and your sisters behind. It was no easy task, but it had to be done for your and theirs’ sakes.
«Don’t be sad for too long, sister. If our Lord talked about a fresh start, it must be really important. I’m sure he’s devastated to let you go, just as much as we are.»
The order of the Pythias had been your home ever since you were born and now, free of your duties and stripped away of your family, you could do nothing but shed a single tear of anguished sorrow.
It was time for you to leave the temple and its sacred grounds. Before leaving, you drank the holy waters of Cassotis one last time. You had to say goodbye to its naiad and flowing forms nestled in the hard rock, and you did so accompanied by your sisters.
The oldest out of you three, Klea, was whispering about some sort of secret encounter a farmer’s wife had with a general when you saw it.
The river from which you were drinking was crystal clear, and at that moment it was acting as a mirror.
And right through the small waves of the fluid surface, your eyes landed on the figure’s reflection. It was behind you.
But right when you looked over the shoulder to better look at the man, he was already gone.
Hand still close to your mouth, you dropped into the water and stared at the sun. It wasn’t Apollo. It was somebody else. The only shred of information you had about him was the memory of his clothes.
«Sister? Are you alright?»
You couldn’t say you were, but the moment flew over your head a second later and the purple veil you wore fell on your face again. Veiling your features was an act of purity in Apollo’s regards, even if it wasn’t required of you any longer. You’d take it off once the one He spoke about would’ve revealed themselves.
After drinking and spending some time together, you finally parted ways with the two other girls and kissed them goodbye. You were going to miss them really much.
Then your feet guided through the sylvan maze automatically: you knew those woods by heart, even if it was almost midnight and Artemis loved to saunter the surroundings. Brother and sister saw each other pretty often, and those meetings had to remain absolutely private, so you shied away faster.
Right at the centre of the labyrinth stood the Castalian Spring you used to go to before the rituals, but now it wasn’t a cleansing bath. It was one that spoke of fresh nostalgia, the one who would’ve haunted a person’s dreams for years before it faded away.
And now it belongs to you, too was your brain’s answer to the previous thought.
You shrugged your shoulders at that, yet it was clear the rational part of yourself was right.
You had been forced to abandon commodities and familial affection to travel the world, swaying helplessly in the winds of life while you tried to push forward.
The vest draped on you pooled at your feet while your mind wandered around, so you disposed of it alongside sandals and personal belongings with an absent-minded sigh.
However, your face was veiled in purple, for the presence felt before in Cassotis was with you still.
Trying your best to calm the nerves, you immersed yourself in the fresh waters of the spring. If their intention was to scare you away, they’d be in for a very gruesome mental fight with you. You’d been trained for it.
As soon as your lips rose to the water’s level, you said out loud:
«Even if my career as Apollo’s High Priestess has dawned, I’m sure the God of Diseases will cast a hex upon your famished eyes to protect my chastity. Show yourself.»
Unbeknownst to you, the visitor stood behind you again. His presence had been so faint until then that you hadn’t bothered to look behind your back.
«And I will not go against your words: the child loves to protect the women whose hearts are so close to his.»
The intensity of the voice pinned you to the ground and covered your wet skin in a coat of shivers. You didn’t even dare to move. Such was their power on you, and they had done nothing more than putting you in place.
Moreover, did the visitor just call Apollo a child? Who were they?
You were about to turn around a bit before they added: «But that’s where my courtesy ends. I intended to show myself but you’ll have to settle for my voice only, now.
Ordering someone like you tried to do with me isn’t very far-sighted of you, ex-Pythia.»
Ouch. It would’ve hurt less if they stabbed you in the ribs rather than saying “ex”.
The imperative underlying in their tone would’ve terrorised others, but not you. The only thing that got injured in the small conversation was your ego.
«I could say the same. Leaving a damsel fencing for herself in the dark because you decided to act upon pettiness isn’t very polite of you, stranger. Also, you already saw what had to be seen of my body, but what about me? Do I really have to settle for your voice only? It doesn’t seem fair.»
The darkness provided by the approaching night was at your disadvantage, but the blow went through the visitor’s armour. You were in no way defenceless, but if your intuition was right, the person behind you highly despised rudeness.
You were even, now.
«Very well. You have a gift with words that many others lost during the early ages of men. It doesn’t surprise me you were Apollo’s favourite priestess. However.»
Suddenly the winds shifted course, and you felt a tickling sensation at the base of your nape. It was such a sensitive spot, for your hair was gathered up.
The stranger must’ve sensed it, for they exhaled right there before adding: «Let’s not talk about what is fair and what is not. You claim that I have seen more than you intended on showing, but it is not true. In the waking world, I have never seen anything else but your veiled face, even when clothes escaped your body. Whereby it remains a mystery to me, but it can’t be said the same for you about mine.»
To say you were dumbfounded would’ve been an understatement.
They were really tricking you into believing it was you who saw more than they did? And why did they talk about the waking world?
«I only saw your clot- listen to me very carefully. I will indulge you on this and say that you are right», the pond you were still in was getting colder and you with it, «will you show yourself to me then? I can be reasonable if the context benefits both me and the person I’m involved with.»
For the first time in millennia, the visitor’s heart had been pinched by the piercing bite of curiosity… and deep down, passion waited for the right moment to surface.
It had been the right decision to speak with Apollo about her.
Their whispers caressed your ear once more, but this time the tender touch of lips grazing the earshell increased the blood flow in your body, especially the lower ones. Oh, sweet mercy.
«Thus it is decided. Meet my eyes without fear, mortal, for I am Dream of the Endless. It seems our fates have now officially crossed.»
He was Oneiros, King of Dreams and Nightmares. No wonder he considered Apollo a youngling: compared to him, the God of poetry saw half of the universes Morpheus did in the first part of his infinite existence.
And you spoke down to him multiple times. You were doome- wait.
Every attempt at being polite had vanished like the smoke you inhaled to convey Apollo’s divine words, so you might’ve as well unearth as many truths as possible and fear no backlash.
«"Officially"? Does this mean we’ve met elsewhere before?»
And that was when you finally, finally turned around to get a glimpse of his features, and an audible gasp escaped you.
Hair akin to tresses of black silk circled his head while his slim body was strapped in the same dark robe you saw him wearing back at Cassotis. But what stuck with you the most were his eyes: pitch-black orbs that captured those who saw them but not in a terrifying way, rather a more mesmerising one.
The stern look softened at the view of your tilted head. It was if you were attempting to decipher a very complicated enigma.
Funny, because Morpheus was doing the same but with your concealed face.
You were out of breath and he smirked internally. Majestic and confident in both his beauty and power he was, and your hands itched to raise up and touch him.
«I’ve seen every dream and vision of yours ever since you were born and yet, I’ve never managed to catch even the smallest sight of your face. But your unconscious flooded my psyche, and the things you dreamt about became part of me.»
His tone dropped even lower when his face came impossibly close to your already panicking one. «Even the ones that make you stir in your sleep, almost as if restlessness holds onto you tightly.»
Oneiros placed a thumb on your lower lip and lifted your chin just enough for him to lean over more. «Even the most forbidden ones. A High Priestess shouldn’t indulge such carnal instincts, now, should she?»
He was getting all his devastating power over your senses and up your face. But you didn’t budge, and another red flower bloomed under his skin. His interest in you grew stronger by the second.
You didn’t pull away until he showed you where your clothes were. Only then you lurched away from his touch, still feeling more vulnerable than ever.
After breaking eye contact with the Endless, you walked towards the garment and once you put it back on, you looked back. You didn’t know whether to be extremely embarrassed — which you were — or flattered against common sense.
No one had ever perceived the most primordial part of yourself with such ease. It was buried just below the surface, but it was there nonetheless. At this point you were way past the point of no return, so you let your body feel everything the religious system denied it till now. Apparently, it included being attracted to a stranger, as well.
No, not a stranger. To the Lord of the Dreams.
«You’re the one He warned me about», the realisation of it all hit you altogether, «he didn’t tell me you weren’t human, but to think my life is connected to yours is unthinkable.»
«I used to think the same, then Destiny and the Kindly Ones confirmed what I’ve been suspecting all along: you and I are bound to cross paths, no matter how far we travel from one another. We’ll always come back together. It’s written in the fabric of every universe known and unknown.»
Your legs gave up in the last bit of Morpheus’ speech, and he caught you in his arms with little to no effort. The stars shone bright above your heads and you took advantage of it.
The index of your left hand landed on Oneiros’ cheekbone, followed suit by the middle and anular finger. The Endless never flinched, not even as your pads caressed the soft skin under his unearthly orbs.
Apollo really set you up with one of the most dangerous beings who ever walked the Earth.
You were pretty sure he had forgotten that either him and Oneiros were immortal beings. Unlike them, Death would’ve knocked at your door in a decade, if not less.
«So what happens next?» you asked under your breath, the veil barely moving over your mouth.
«I made myself known, young priestess. Now, allow me to see behind the veil of your modesty. May I?»
Your shaky nod didn’t go unnoticed, so Oneiros pulled back the veil slowly. He somehow feared he would hurt you, when in reality it was quite the opposite: the unveiling was setting your heart aflame, as it was igniting each and every single limb and fracture of your persona one by one.
His fingers crashed against your soft features just as you felt Oneiros’ gaze bore a hole in you. Dismay gnawed at the upfront of your brain when he stopped, for you feared you had misunderstood everything, but then his husky, honey-like voice reached you.
Thick flickers of abrupt longing clawed you from the tip of your toes to the top of the head.
«Here you are at last, oh beautiful one. You’re the brightest star in all firmaments dear to humankind and not.»
The sentence was a declaration of love per se, but what brought you to tears had been the dialect in which he spoke those words. That was your hometown’s one, far lost in the multitude of islands comprising Greece for many to remember.
It was identical to the one you claimed you’d forgotten after years spent in Delphi. You deleted every last trace of the small village you loved to spend most of the days in, running through lavender fields and sleeping under the stars, but now here it was.
Morpheus reminded you who you’d been before becoming Apollo’s harbinger of truth among men: a little girl in love with her previous existence.
Droplets of sadness streamed down your glassy eyes and they didn’t stop. It was a silent ‘thank you’ for Oneiros and the precious gift he just donated to you. You’d treasure that fragment of time for the rest of your life.
He did nothing but press his forehead against yours for a second, then the softness of his lips traced down what was left of your tears on your cheeks.
He was kissing them away.
«I admire the woman you’ve become, but what about that young soul who yearned to dance for her mamá? To explore the world on her eldest brother’s shoulders?»
«The God of prophecies came to me in a dream when I was about to be married to an Athenian monger, you must know that. I’ve been his ever since. He saved me from a grime destiny.»
You couldn’t know that at the time, but Oneiros had the ability to comfort humans by reminding them of perfumes and memories of their childhood. The moment your nostrils impacted with the faint aroma of freshly baked bread and rain, your eyes met him once more and you felt it.
The knot within your stomach dissolved. Every doubt about his intentions, each dagger dug into your heart. It was all gone.
«But now he has set you free. The Three went to him and gave him a vision of what your future would’ve been like if you stayed longer under his care. Apollo comprehended everything shown to him and talked with me. When he summoned you, it was in the Dreaming. I was by his side while he freed you from your obligations, but you couldn’t see me. No chain or superior purpose keeps you anchored to him or this place any longer.»
Oneiros bent his head in a way that was unmistakable for another, and your every muscle stilled. «Your Grace-»
«You may call me Oneiros. No need to address me so formally.»
You visibly gulped. «-Oneiros. Shouldn’t we leave the Castalian Spring? This is a sacred space, after all. Phoebus won’t be lenient if he finds out that profanities have been performed here.»
His lips had touched yours for the briefest of moments right after your observation. A contact lasted less than a second, but it’d been enough for wildfire to spread across your body. It’d been your first kiss and Oneiros’ arms embraced your body tighter.
You were shaking.
«Naïve girl, Oneiros’ hair played with the wind as his breath touched yours, «as if Apollo never engaged in “profanities” right here himself, and with countless lovers. He’d be a hypocrite if ours disturbs him.»
Oh, great Heavens.
Relaxing against his body, you raised your head enough for the man to continue what he started earlier, although this time he was firmer, and your lips followed him in the final loss of your chastity.
You even opened your mouth slightly, remembering how your body responded and initiated such actions in the many dreams lived in the Endless’ realm. And just as your faceless lovers did back then, the man slid in and licked your tongue with his.
Immoral delight pervaded each fibre of your being.
«Where did you take inspiration from for your dreams, star-mine?» Oneiros cooed in your ear, not even noticing he had walked backwards until the catty kiss of laurel bushes stroked your back. Then he placed you down on a dark blank appeared out of the blue, smiling to himself when you crossed your ankles at his touch on your half-bare thighs.
He had barely got started and you were already that jumpy.
«N-Neighbours. Back home, they used to love each other in the fields close to our farm. And I heard many townspeople talk about what they d-did with their lovers.»
Your detailed statement softened the Endless’ gaze, which soon turned into liquid steel as he eventually convinced you to open your legs for him.
He inserted himself between them and while sliding to his knees he kissed one of yours, motioning for you to calm yourself. The dress you had on did nothing to hide your excitement, and Oneiros could see your erected nipples underneath the damp fabric. His fingers reached the single strap wrapped around your neck and after you smiled at him, it fell right away under your now bare breasts.
The air didn’t get the opportunity to kiss them because the man beat it on time: first his lips latched onto your neck, then they slowly made their way to the engorged buds ready to be loved. You just stared at Oneiros wide-eyed, hands itching to grab onto something quickly.
Despite the lack of experience, dreams taught you a fundamental lesson: pleasure would course through your veins in a crescendo, so you had to steady yourself.
The man between your legs came to your aid, and he did by lacing one of his hands’ fingers with yours. And right after he did so and pecked at your breasts, his mouth descended on your ribs, your stomach. Your most private parts.
«Oneiros.»
A jolt of elation prickled his skin when his name fell past your lips. It’d been so long since he had such an immediate affinity with a new lover. Moreover, a human one.
Maybe his time as a lonely being really had come to an end. The Fates told the truth: they had deemed you as the perfect match for him.
«Was being touched here», he pointed out the spot he was talking about by caressing the expanse of skin he could reach, «a part of your memories, as well? Or a desire you wanted to get yourself lost into? You dreamt about this often, haven’t you?»
He was taunting you and your naughty mind. Being chosen by a divine entity and relishing in the rigid rules set by them in order to satisfy their wills were two separate things.
You were learning all about the fatter right then, with the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares. He was going to reenact one of your favourite fantasies.
«I- please.»
«Please what?»
Your body acted on its own. Maybe it was because his silken voice wrapped around you, or maybe it was just the position he put you in, but your hips snapped upwards.
The man growled under his breath and the sound went straight to your core.
«Please.» Despite the shyness you repeated the plea, strongly this time. He kicked back a smile, the first physical demonstration of his endearment with your innocent antics.
Fingers you were sure were going to be the undoing of you settled on the apex of your thighs, waiting for your consent; once it was given, the dress you so proudly had worn during your novice years, and as a sign of celibacy, existed no more.
Oneiros didn’t just take it off of you: once it was in the air, he literally let it shred to pieces amidst a violent swirl of wind conjured by the man himself.
«You’re in no need of such a limitant symbol, now. I will provide you with a new dress later.»
The absolute certainty of the promise hidden in a single sentence sank into your bones, much like a tree’s roots do when the ground in which it stands is comfortable enough for them. It provides stability, and right now that was what you craved the most.
You did nothing but give him a brazen smile. «Please show me what I’ve missed out until now, Oneiros. Let me finally partake in my fantasies, but guide me through them in this realm.»
His lips joined yours while the first digit brushed against your swollen tissues. Wetness coated every inch of them, and he took his sweet time to let you be accustomed to the new sensation, sliding up and down the slit. Once he sensed you weren’t as tense as you were before, Oneiros decided to step things up a notch.
He eased his middle finger inside you right as your teeth rubbed on his lower lip. What sounded almost like a pained hiss ruffled your hair, but it wasn’t because the action disturbed him, on the contrary.
It turned him on.
You almost fled your skin at the intrusion, yet you accommodated it without breaking a sweat.
The knowledge of it becoming pleasurable immediately after in the back of your head made everything smoother, so you acted upon instinctive feelings and spread your legs wider.
And so the second digit pushed through your walls slowly. Oneiros, careful not to unsettle you, lowered his eyes where you were squeezing him.
He’d probably seen similar scenes a million times, but something felt different with you: you were not giving yourself to him in exchange for power or fame among mortals. Other lovers of his slept with him only to talk about and take pride in it with their acquaintances the day after, which he found incredibly disheartening.
But not this time: your soul was aligned with his, and so was your heart beating so loudly against your heaving chest.
«How does it feel, star-mine?» Hoarse were those words spoken on your agape mouth for you interrupted the kiss to throw back your head and chant strings of soft moans to the sky.
«It’s even better than I expected, I-» your voice failed you once the man’s eyes fell onto your face again.
His beauty was mesmerising. Hypnotic, even.
The stretch increased after the third and final fingers plunged into you. Walls fluttered around his fingers as your eyelids did, the bliss of the act mounting in the pit of your stomach until it almost overflew.
It would’ve sent you over the edge many men and women alike whispered about in their heated exchanges outside the temple, if only Oneiros hadn’t stopped. The delicious motion halted and your free hand immediately flew to caress the man’s cheek.
«Don’t stop, I beg you. Did I say something wrong?»
He kissed your hand first, then his lips rapidly replaced the digits buried inside you. Before moving forward, he locked eyes with you. «No, you did not. I just want to fulfil your request. See? I am reasonable, too, if the context benefits me and the person I’m currently involved with. Tap on my hand if it gets too overwhelming, star-mine.»
And with that his tongue entered you effortlessly, lapping up the clear liquid gathered underneath your thighs and licking the outer folds with unsolicited momentum. Not only you ended up covering his hands with yours in an attempt to break away from the tingling sensation in your abdomen, but at some point the movements of your hips matched the Endless’.
Without you having taken a rational or active part in it, your body had done so by default.
Oneiros increased his speed soon after your body had gone taut once more. You were close and he wanted to provide for your every need, whatever it’d cost him.
«Let yourself go. Yes, like this.»
The tension in your body melted away in waves of blinding stars chasing each other behind your eyelids, and as Oneiros drew your first orgasm ever out of your system, he loosed his grip on your legs to allow more relaxation.
You’d visited Mount Olympus with merely a few, long motions of the man’s tongue in you. Impossible to think of such a profanity when you still were a High Priestess, but there you were.
It was only after five minutes of comfortable silence and various kisses on your thighs from the Endless’ part that you managed to come back to the physical plane.
Without waiting for him to say anything, your hand cupped the back of his head and dragged him upwards to meet your lips. The taste of your own arousal in your mouth overcame the dull ache between your legs, for your greedy body wanted more.
It needed more.
Oneiros perceived your hunger on his skin and after complying to your immediate needs, his hands circled your waist and flipped you over. The moment elicited a surprised squeak from you and an almost imperceptible laugh from the Endless, although the new position granted him less control over you.
But as you had proved him twice in such a short span of time, yours wasn’t a tug of war: curiosity moved your heart above everything else. And he was going to please its whims, always.
«Oneiros, it was beautiful», your breasts pressed against his chest as you spoke, «I thank you for such an unexpected gift. I’ll make sure I do your efforts justice and return it to you.» His deep chuckles echoed in your ears. «And I’m positive you’ll do as promised, but we’re not over yet. Here.»
Oneiros’ hands raised you by the back of your thighs, brushing through your lower lips with the tip of his erection.
Bracing yourself for the penetration, you waited. And waited.
Yet, the man wasn’t moving.
«Am I supposed to do something more?»
«You are. If I let go of you now, you’ll become one with me in the fastest and sometimes unromantic way possible. But I will not, for I want us both to relish in the moment with no rush.»
Already understanding what he was implying, you tapped on his hands. You raised yourself onto your knees, settling on the outside of his naked thighs.
«When did you dispose of your robe, Oneiros? I didn’t notice it until now.»
«Somewhere between the moment I took off your dress and when you grazed my lip with your teeth.»
He removed his hands from you and laughed. He laughed.
The King of Dreams and Nightmares was being playful with you.
A sudden motion of confidence flooded you and you stroked his erection a few times. The laughter died out in his throat yet his fingers raised to land on your face.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he took your hand in his as you finally became one at your own pace, bending to breathe heavily in the crook of his neck. Then you asked him amidst kisses and shy giggles if he could teach you what to do next, and he complied.
Eventually tiredness got the best of you and Oneiros took over, and he did until the nightfall gave way to the warm nuances of daylight.
In your heart you knew the Endless who held you now would have scorched the entire Earth to find you again in your next lives, come what may.
But little did you know it’d been you, out of the two, to not be on your best behaviour some times.
Particularly relevant was the “70s digression”, as Morpheus preferred to call the one time you escaped the Dreaming before a hundred years had passed since you went to sleep. It wasn’t your time to wake up, yet you did and ran away.
It was also the first time Death and Desire met your mortal self sprawled on a rather squalid couch at the infamous Studio 54, located in New York City.
And it sure had been the most terrifying experience of your non-existence, because that day Morpheus almost went to war with his youngest sibling over you. Even amidst the foggy remembrances of your past lives, the view of Dream’s outrage still burned in the back of your brain.
Not because Desire had pushed him over the edge yet another time, oh no. Rather because they pushed you in the arms of another man.
But he was no man, rather a figment of Mopheus' nightmarishly endeavour.
That had been the first time you actually saw your lover's temperament take control over him.
nyimasu '25 — do not copy, translate or share my works on other social platforms.
Its been a while since I wrote a fanfic, but I just wanted to keep Morpheus memory alive. If we keep writing about him, he is never truly gone.
Pairing: Morpheus x Female!Reader
Wordcount: 2,034
Warnings: R18, NSFW, Established relationship
(Minors do not interact!)
Info: There is a beach, you two have some good old fashioned fun
“It looks cold,” you mentioned as you stared at the dark ocean before you. Its gentle waves were lapping at the black shore. Dark sands crept between your toes as you stood staring at the water contemplatively.
“The water is not cold. Its temperature is what I will it to be,” Morpheus stated as he stood next to you, his gaze locked on your face as if he were trying to read your thoughts.
“When you said beach, I imagined it would be like a tropical one; azure blue sea, white sands, and the like,” you shrugged.
“These are the very shores of the Dreaming. Is it not to your liking?”
When you looked at Morpheus, you couldn’t help but notice a glimmer of disappointment flickering in his eyes.
“No! No, it’s alright. It’s different, but it’s alright. It’s beautiful!” you tried.
Morpheus only half believed you, scoffing slightly. You and Morpheus had been together for almost a year now. You resided in the waking world, and either you would come to the Dreaming to visit him, or he would occasionally come to you. It was better this way. He had offered you a place in the Dreaming, but you refused. He was a bit mopey about it and had tried to subtly convince you to stay with him. But you wouldn’t budge. After a few sulking sessions and grumbles of protest, he eventually accepted it; and now, this was your dynamic.
It worked best this way. And, alas, almost a year later, you two were still going strong. Surprisingly.
You undressed slowly. You had wanted to visit a beach with him to swim. And of course, Morpheus would provide; though not without adding his own flair. He had brought you to the actual shore of the Dreaming, the very beach where he created his dreams and nightmares. God knows what lurks in these waters...
But Morpheus was with you.
And you trusted him.
You kept only your panties and bra on as you dipped your toe in the water to test its temperature. Warm. It was warm.
Morpheus had been staring at you in silence as you undressed. You damn well knew what he was thinking, and you found it hilarious that he tried to remain composed. You knew that behind those deep eyes, his mind was in turmoil; screaming, burning for you.
You walked into the waves. The water wrapped around you like a lover’s embrace. Like his embrace. As if the waters were him. It was a strange feeling, tingling your skin with this strange but warm intimacy.
“Come in with me,” you tried to motivate your tall, dark, and brooding lover.
Morpheus stood there on the beach watching you, like his feet were nailed to the shore.
“No,” he answered gently.
You rolled your eyes.
“Why not? Can’t I ask my sweet boyfriend to join me for a swim? Is he too cool for that?” you teased.
He disliked it when you called him boyfriend, much preferring lover, my love, or darling over the mundane and very human term.
He gave that little scoff again, but you swore you saw a small smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.
“I do not swim,” he answered plainly.
You snorted.
“I’m not asking you to swim. I’m asking you to submerge yourself in the warm and comfy waters with your girlfriend. Come on, Morpheus!”
“I much prefer to watch my lover enjoy herself,” he said.
You got out of the water and came to him.
“Always so composed, but you and I both know it’s all just a façade to make you look all cool and mysterious,” you said, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders.
His gaze shifted, and his hands gently held your hips. You pressed your chest against his and hovered close to his face. Just when he was about to lean in to meet your lips with his, you pulled back slightly.
He looked confused.
You just smirked.
“Come on,” you whispered, a slight purr in your voice.
“Join me…”
You walked backwards into the ocean, his gaze darkening as he slowly followed your lead. Step by step, the water submerged you both more and more. Morpheus’s clothes vanished; dissolving as if they were made of sand washed away by the waves.
He was naked. Fully naked.
His arms wrapped more insistently around your waist.
Oh, you understood now. He was holding back.
“Why are you wearing these garments still? Are we not used to seeing one another bare?” he asked, almost innocently.
You sure as hell knew he didn’t mean it innocently.
Sneaky bastard.
Before you could throw a sassy remark, he had already unclasped your bra and slowly slid it off your shoulders.
“You know, you could just make it disappear like thin air, right?” you said.
“I am aware. But where is the pleasure in doing so?”
He gave you a look that made your core clench with heat; eyes half-lidded, mouth slightly agape. His hands slid up to your shoulders and pushed the bra straps down. The garment fell into the water and disappeared.
Then, he hooked his fingers behind your panties and shoved them down. When they reached your knees, the fabric vanished.
Now naked, he wasted no time pulling you against him. You could feel him; all of him. His lean, toned body, his hard chest against your soft breasts, his stomach against your pliant one. And his cock, pressing against your belly, already hard and aching.
It was not difficult to get your lover excited. Morpheus was absolutely weak for you. You only had to lift a finger and he was already on fire.
He was burning right now, and his gaze told you he was planning to set you ablaze as well.
One hand crept to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Then, ever so gently; ever so restrained; he kissed you. Deep and loving, tongue gliding into your mouth, still holding back.
But you didn’t want restraint. You wanted him unraveled.
You waded deeper into the water together, still kissing, still lost in each other. You bit his lower lip teasingly. Morpheus inhaled sharply. You leaned forward and kissed him again. He deepened the kiss, tongue more insistent now, his breathing ragged.
One of your hands tangled in his hair, the other roamed over his side and chest, your nails trailing over his alabaster skin, making him groan. In one swift movement, he lifted your leg around his waist, holding it there.
The water lapped around you both like a soothing blanket. His length rubbed against your wetness, your slickness coating his cock as he ran his shaft over your folds.
“Morpheus…” you moaned his name.
You leaned your head back and he leaned forward, his lips brushing over your collarbone. He didn't kiss it yet, just ran his lips along your skin like velvet. Up your neck. To the crook of it. A kiss.
You moaned. You could swear he smiled against you.
The hand holding your leg squeezed slightly, coaxing more sounds from you. You moaned louder. His lips moved up toward your ear.
He whispered, his voice echoing through your mind:
“My love, these sounds you make are a chorus of the divine to me. I will make you sing, my queen.”
You shivered. Practically melted.
“Morpheus… I need you,” your voice trembled.
“And I need you, my love,” he replied.
Then he lifted you completely and waded out of the water, laying you gently on the soft black sands.
He knelt between your legs and hovered over you, scanning your body. You shivered.
It felt as though he was seeing more than just your naked form; like he was seeing you, the very core of your being.
To make love with Morpheus was to allow him not only your body but your very soul.
Droplets of water glistened on his skin. Gods, he was beautiful.
His fingers trailed down your stomach.
“I need you to be inside me,” you gasped.
He gave you a dark, promising look. A slightly feral one filled with longing.
His fingers reached your folds, caressing your core, coating them in your wetness. His mouth agape, he looked down at you; at your glistening cunt; then at his fingers.
He gasped slightly. Holding back.
“My love, you are so wet for me…” he whispered in awe.
He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them, eyes fluttering closed to savor your taste.
You practically imploded.
You needed him. Now.
He reached down to his cock and rubbed the tip gently against your entrance, coating himself in your juices.
You whimpered.
He met your gaze.
“I want you to feel-” he began, slowly pressing the tip inside you, “every part of me as I enter you.”
Inch by inch, he pushed deeper, his hand resting on your lower stomach.
“You look so beautiful. So utterly divine. So unmistakably mine.”
He filled you to the hilt, buried deep inside. His eyelashes fluttered as he let out a breath.
You looked down, seeing where you were connected. So did he. His eyes flamed with lust.
He pulled back. Thrusted.
You gasped.
He met your eyes. Lidded. Mouth agape.
Thrusted again.
Savoring every part of you.
“Harder-”
You moaned.
“Morpheus, p-please… harder…” you pleaded.
Behind you, the sea crept closer, touching your legs. The soft beach sand beneath you felt like silk.
He leaned over, nose brushing yours, lips inches from your own. His hands slid to your upper thigh and lifted it around his waist.
Thrust.
“Do you want me deeper?” he whispered, voice vibrating through your being.
Thrust.
“Do you want me harder?”
Thrust.
“Allow me to ravish you, my love. My goddess. My queen.”
His eyes blazed. He fucked you; deep, hard, and fast. With such ferocity it felt as if he wanted to disappear inside you. His tip kissed your cervix. Your toes curled.
He sat up, hips bucking, gaze raking over your body; locking once more on where you were joined.
“Look at you… taking me in so well. My love, you feel exquisite.”
You reached out, hands running over his stomach, the muscles rippled beneath your touch.
“You are mine,” you said.
“You are my Dreamlord. Mine.”
That broke something in him.
He leaned over you, your legs locked around his waist. He gasped, lips crashing onto yours, hands grabbing your wrists and lifting them above your head.
He fucked you; desperately.
You moaned into his mouth. He groaned into yours. You bit his lip. He kissed you harder. His hands slid down your arms, holding your ribs as he plunged his tongue into your mouth. Saliva mixed between you.
“I am yours…” you gasped between moans.
“Yes. Yes, you are. You are mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Utterly mine,” he groaned.
His grip tightened. You rolled your hips against him.
“Come inside me, Morpheus,” you pleaded.
He was going to. But not before you finished.
His fingers grazed your ribs, leaving a fire in their wake.
You belonged to the Dream King.
And he belonged to you.
Your eyes locked. The world disappeared.
Only him.
Thrust.
You arched your back. You couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.
Your release crashed over you. You clenched around him; around his still-thrusting cock. Feeling every ridge, every vein, burned into your core.
With a groan that could split the ocean, he came. His seed spilling deep into your womb. He held himself there, as if not to spill a drop.
You took all of it.
He was heaving. Raw. Ruffled. Panting.
Fuck, it was hot.
“My love,” he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Cradling your face.
He loved you. So, so much. And he’d take any chance to prove it.
You cupped his cheeks.
“We should do that again…” you smirked.
The corner of his mouth curled up.
“Have I not properly satisfied my love? Perhaps, indeed, we should indulge in another…”
He paused. A glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“…Round.”
And you damn well knew what that meant.
You wouldn’t be leaving this beach for hours.
And honestly?
You didn’t mind that at all.
✧·˚ “ I SLEEP SO I CAN SEE YOU, ‘CAUSE I HATE TO WAIT SO LONG ” ༘ * ༄
synopsis. dream is very protective of his wife, so when a creature invades her dreams he takes immediate action before it can cast any lasting effects
featuring. dream of the endless (the sandman), wife!reader
a/n. now i know what you’re gonna say “but pearl sleeping in the dreaming makes no sense cause it’s the dream world you have to be sleep to get there” HUSH and just let it happen, it is fan FICTION just let it happen
you would think being the wife of a dream lord’s protects you from the terrifying nightmares, but it seems some creature has seeped into your head and taken hold of your psyche when you sleep. it doesn’t help that you sleep when dream goes to attend to his duties.
this particular creature seems to have taken a liking you messing with your head. you know it is not a nightmare, you know of all your husbands creations and this thing, stalks you in the corners of your mind while you believe yourself to be dreaming, luring you into a false sense of relaxation and then it will purposely show itself in the corners of your vision but when you turn to look at it it disappears, leaving you to feel uneasy until you turn back around and it stands only inches away from you which causes you to startle awake.
this has been going on now for longer than you’d like to admit and you’ve seen how busy your husband as been and do not wish to trouble him with something as trivial as this when he has far more important matters to deal with. unfortunately for you this experience has made you put off sleep for as long as you possibly can and dream takes notices of it.
you sit across from him in the library reading about a lovely dream a mortal has created. you can feel your eyes are growing heavy and let out a yawn before continuing.
“what troubles you dear wife?” dream asks, not looking up from his work.
“nothing, why do you ask dear husband?” you respond back placing the book down.
“you have stayed awake with me for three days now.” he says softly, one might think you could even hear a bit of concern laced in his voice.
“i’ve just missed you, that’s all.” you give him a soft sleep to try and sell it, but clearly dream is not buying. “you’ve just been so busy with your work and i’ve rarely seen you—”
“you have not been sleeping so you can spend more time with me?”
now that it is said out loud you realize how ridiculous it sounds. the wife of a dream lord isn’t sleeping because she wants to see him more.
“…yes?”
dream’s expression reminds flat.
“you are not being truthful.” dream stands and walks over to where you are seat before kneeling in-front of you. his eyes search your own for some actual reasoning.
“i’ve had trouble sleeping when you are not with me…” you confess, looking away as you feel your cheeks burn.
dream’s hand comes under your chin to gently turn you to face him again.
“do you wish for me to remain with you tonight?”
“i couldn’t ask that of you—”
“i will.” he says bluntly, shocking you.
“you will?” he nods.
“what kind of dream lord would i be if my own wife could not get sleep?” a whisper of a smile appears on his lips before he kisses your head gently before standing again. “i must deal with some matters now rather than later. i trust when i return you will be ready for slumber.”
you stand as you watch him start to leave.
“dream.”
you call out to him, he stops and turns to you.
“yes my love?”
you move to where he stands and place a kiss on his lips before thanking him.
“anything for you.” he replies gently.
you smile at him, placing one last kiss on his lips before he leaves.
later on you can truly start to feel the sleep you’ve been avoiding for so long take ahold of you. your actions slow and you take your time, almost struggle, to put the silk sheets onto your bed.
“you need not to waste your energy.”
you turn hearing dream’s voice behind you.
“i know, i just like having a task.”
you turn back to finish placing the sheets but see that dream has already done it for you and you unintentionally let out a small huff.
“tasks distract, you need only to focus on one thing now.” you feel him wrap his arms around your middle and place a kiss behind your ear, earning a smile from you.
“you?”
dream smirks and lets out a exhale through his nose which is the closest you’ll get to a laugh.
“no, sleep. come my love.”
he sits on the bed, his outfit now changed to a more comfortable one to sleep in.
“as you command my dream lord.”
you climb onto the bed and curl into his side, you feel safe here with him, the safest you’ve felt in weeks. you hope that him being here will scare off whatever creature dares to taunt you. you can feel yourself easily drifting off in his arms and his hand moves to hold yours, offering a gently squeeze of reassurance. a simple ‘i am here, you are safe’ gesture that gives comfort.
you find yourself in a different part of the dreaming, a place that you have made in your mind, a beach that soft waves crash onto the shore. you look around for your husband but do not see him. your eyes land on a distant figure, it is not your husband though.
you feel it’s uncomfortable aura even as it stands a great distance from you. it unsettles you deeply as continuously stares at you, sending a shudder down your spine as you feel your chest tighten with anxiety.
“how dare you enter my realm to feed upon innocent people?”
you hear him before you see him, a shadow form in the sky that casts over the land as dream’s eye flicker white, oh he is pissed.
“and to do it to my beloved wife? you will no longer have the freedom you once had.”
dream’s shadowed hand looms over the creature and grabs it harshly. the creature squirms in his grip has he crushes the weak thing in his grasp. you look away from the grotesque scene, not particularly fond of gory aspect of it all you cover your ears to try and block the sickening crunch.
you don’t turn back around until you feel dream’s arms slide around your waist and pulling you close to his chest.
“are you alright my love?” his voice is soft compared to how intimating it sounded moments earlier.
you turn to face him, cupping his face with both of your hands to place a gentle kiss on his cheek and hug him tightly.
“thank you.”
“anything for you my beloved.”
“how can i ever repay you?” you ask leaning into him more.
“by resting properly now.” dream kisses your temple as he holds you close, finally allowing you to rest.
when you wake you find dream gazing at you and moving a stray hair from your face. the moment is intimate and you almost don’t want to break the silence between the two of you. you push his messy hair back and place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose and then his lips.
“did you sleep well my love?” he asks taking your hand to place a kiss on on your knuckles.
“i did.” you smile and move closer. “i dreamt that a hero came and saved me from a nightmare that i was having.”
“oh did you?” he pulls you into his chest.
“mhm, and he was very handsome.”
amount of fanfics for him on this site is so small it made me come out of retirement also this ain’t proof read and the keyboard i was typing with is a little broken so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t
Eirene, Goddess of Harmony and Goodwill, the Queen of Animosity, found herself at a crossroads. Her wedding day came, a promise of peace and union, a treacherous deal in the Dreaming. She journeyed into the realm of nightmares and dreams, her heart heavy with the weight of a peace she wasn't sure she could maintain. The obstacles she faced were not merely trials of strength, but riddles of the soul, challenges that even a goddess might not overcome.
tags and warnings: arranged marriage, morpheus x goddess!reader, angst, smut in later parts, fluff in later parts, slowburn
fair warning: this fan fiction series does not follow the events from the actual series.
next
“Is it all ready?” Lucienne’s voice, usually a calm counterpoint to the Dreaming’s chaos, held a tremor of genuine panic. The throne room, usually a study in obsidian grandeur, was a battlefield of misplaced chairs and half-inflated balloons. A single, forlorn banner proclaimed, “Morpheus & Eirene” in wobbly lettering.
“Well, no” Mervyn sighed, wrestling with a chair leg as if it were a rebellious nightmare. “We’re short on flowers.” He surveyed the room with a critical eye, pushing a chair an inch to the left, then an inch back. “The vibe is… off.”
Lucienne rubbed her temples. “Does the queen even like flowers? We have no idea who this woman is. Morpheus hasn’t uttered a single detail beyond ‘wedding,’ ‘today,’ and ‘make it… efficient.’ ”
Mervyn, finally victorious over the chair, let out a groan. “Efficient? He expects a full-blown royal wedding, a celebration worthy of the Endless, planned in a single day? With no budget, no guest list, and no bride-to-be specifications? Seriously?” He gestured to a row of empty flower posts, their skeletal metal stark against the throne room’s velvet gloom. “And these… what am I even supposed to do with these?”
Lucienne sighed, running a hand through her already disheveled hair. “Perhaps a simple arrangement? Something… understated? Considering the circumstances, I doubt a lavish display would suit the occasion.”
Mervyn scoffed. “Understated? He’s marrying a queen. Surely, there's a protocol. A minimum standard for an Endless wedding! Even if it's a rushed one.” He kicked a stray balloon, sending it careening into a tapestry depicting a particularly gruesome battle.
Lucienne closed her eyes, bracing herself. “Just… focus, Mervyn. Let’s get the essentials in place. Chairs, lighting… maybe some calming music? We can worry about the flowers later.”
Mervyn, still muttering about the inherent instability of the chair legs, began rearranging the balloons. The banner, meanwhile, swayed gently in the draft, the question mark wobbling like a nervous heartbeat. The efficiency Morpheus craved felt more like a looming disaster.
“I brought carnations and roses!” Gault announced, her voice brimming with a nervous energy that somehow managed to cut through the throne room’s usual oppressive silence. She bustled into the room, arms laden with vibrant blooms that seemed almost out of place amidst the hastily arranged chairs and the still-questionable vibes. “Fiddler’s Green helped me,” she added with a bright smile, already beginning to arrange the flowers on the empty posts. The metal, previously stark and cold, now bloomed with unexpected color.
“They’re supposed to be the Queen’s favorite,” she continued, her fingers deftly weaving the stems together. “At least, that’s what I heard around the Dreaming. I think she’s nice. Harmony and all that.” Her enthusiasm was infectious, a stark contrast to Lucienne and Mervyn’s earlier anxieties. A genuine smile finally touched Lucienne’s lips.
Mervyn, however, remained skeptical. He eyed the arrangements with a critical gaze. “You just heard that? No official confirmation? What if she hates carnations? What if she prefers… orchids? Or, I don’t know, succulents? This is a royal wedding, Gault! We need specifics!”
Gault chuckled, unfazed by his fretting. “Well, the Queen of Harmony seems like the type who appreciates simple beauty. And these are pretty, aren't they?” She stepped back to admire her work, a splash of vibrant color against the obsidian backdrop. Even Mervyn had to admit, the flowers did add a touch of unexpected warmth to the room. The tension, for a moment, eased. The looming disaster seemed a little less… disastrous. Perhaps, just perhaps, this impromptu wedding might actually work.
Lucienne, ever practical, stepped forward. “Thank you, Gault. This is… perfect. Now, about those chairs…” She gestured towards Mervyn, who was already muttering about the subtle misalignment of a particularly stubborn armchair. The preparations continued, a blend of chaos and unexpected grace, fueled by Gault's optimism and a shared hope that somehow, against all odds, this day might actually turn out alright.
The sky, a peculiar blend of honeydew and twilight, held a deceptive calm. No sun shone, yet the air possessed a silky warmth, a hush broken only by the gentle sigh of wind through the Dreaming’s ever-shifting architecture. Nimbus clouds, however, were gathering on the horizon, their dark edges hinting at the rain to come. The peaceful façade of the day was cracking.
“He’s here,” Mervyn muttered, his voice barely audible above the wind’s whisper. He watched Lucienne stride purposefully towards the library, her usual composure strained. The hastily arranged wedding preparations seemed almost forgotten, eclipsed by a deeper unease. “What happened to him?” he asked, more to himself than to Lucienne’s retreating back. The question hung heavy in the air, unspoken anxieties clinging to the silky wind. The approaching storm mirrored the turmoil brewing within the Dreaming’s heart. The celebratory atmosphere had evaporated, replaced by a palpable sense of foreboding. The wedding, it seemed, was about to become something far more complicated.
The stillness of the air in the room was profound, a stark contrast to the usual gentle rustling of the books that normally swayed with the touch of passersby. Now, a heavy silence pressed down, mirroring the frustration churning within Lord Morpheus. His breathing came in ragged gasps, each inhale a testament to his simmering resentment. He never did like having his choices dictated to him. "My lord," Lucienne ventured, her voice a soft whisper, careful not to worsen his already volatile mood. "Is there something wrong?" She watched him, her expression a mixture of concern and apprehension. The weight of his displeasure hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to vibrate from his very being. "I have talked to Destiny," Morpheus finally growled, the words thick with barely contained rage. "This is his doing, all for his so-called balance and peace. He likely orchestrated this with Eirene; she's under his obligation, after all." He pushed himself away from his table, the movement sharp and abrupt. His hands clenched, his knuckles white. He closed his eyes, trying to regain control of his seething emotions. "If I may, without your getting angry sir" Lucienne continued cautiously, her voice barely audible above the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. "This union might actually prove beneficial. The waking world teeters on the brink of civil war. This marriage could bring much-needed stability, especially considering the Queen is slowly losing her influence over mortals. And besides" she added softly, choosing her words with care, "it would be… advantageous for you to have a partner, someone to share your burdens." The silence stretched, heavy and expectant, as Lucienne waited for Morpheus' response, her gaze fixed on the tense lines of his profile.
“If that is even her intention” Morpheus whispered, the words lost in the thickening mists that were rolling through the Dreaming, mirroring the turmoil in his own mind. The honeydew sky was now all but obscured, the approaching rain a tangible manifestation of his inner storm. Anger, a rare and unsettling emotion for the normally stoic Lord of Dreams, clouded his thoughts.
Why else would they—his siblings, the Endless—have arranged this marriage? To a stranger? A queen desperate to save her crumbling realm? The notion of a benevolent union felt like a cruel jest, a thin veil over a power play. They craved advantage, they always craved advantage. But what was his benefit? Nothing. The deal, as he saw it, was a blatant one-sided agreement, a sacrifice disguised as a celebration. The realization hit him with the force of the gathering storm, this was not a wedding, but a pawn in a game he hadn’t even known he was playing. And he, the Lord of Dreams, had been played. The silken air of earlier hung heavy with the scent of betrayal.
This is just a prologue! I want to see if there's anyone interested in reading this kind of story. Let me know if you want a full Chapter 1!
edit: this is a reworked prologue. i didn't quite like how it was, it felt very rushed so i decided to rework it.
SUMMARY: The endless family is made up of 7 children, so why is their an 8th? Reader is the black sheep of the family with no purpose to fulfill the human realm. He spends his days locked away in the Dreaming where he stays under his brothers watch. It wasn’t until one of Dreams new nightmares escapes the realm and starts causing problems in the Waking, giving reader a chance to show that he can be helpful in his family by tracking down his brothers nightmare, not knowing what awaits him.
WARNINGS/CONTENT: Angst, slow burn, MDNI 18+, language, endless family, dream trying to be a good brother, mentions of abuse, black sheep, self esteem problems, mentions of death, family secrets, friends to lovers, post riddler chaos, mentions of new villains, foreshadowing, reader and Bruce balancing each other out, Gotham is shit, slight kissing, trauma mentioned, OC nightmare, non-canon works.
WC: 6.4K
NOTES: its finally here!! 😭 I know I’ve been gone for some time, but I’ve been spending my time drafting up this series and making sure that it all makes sense and connects with the sandman lore just a tiny bit along with Batman lore. I rewrote the first chapter, so this is the official first chapter! I hope you all enjoy and expect the second part to come soon!
Dreams. Desires. Destruction. Humanity somehow adapted to these things. They believed in Death and waited for her arrival while also feeling Despair while waiting for the end. Sometimes Destiny found them and their lives grew easy, or perhaps fated. Everything is written down before it ever happens, giving people the chance to decide their own fates instead of staying awake in fear of how their futures will turn out to be, growing delirious for countless nights until they finally took the action to get up and start again.
Everyone wanted to live.
So what was his purpose?
He was born three hundred years after the disappearance of Destruction. The endless siblings believed that he was their to replace their missing brother, only to realize that he was simply another sibling created by both Night and Time. Their parents never showed love towards their children other than Destruction, he was the favorite amongst both parents until this new child was born. Everyone knew that they never stayed longer than a year with their parents before they are casted aside and forced to grow up fast in order to complete the purpose they were tasked to fulfill. Which left all six siblings to care for the youngest one. The baby to be exact.
An endless with no meaning being left in the care of siblings who were far too busy to care for him. He had no name and was remained as Endless. No one knew why Night and Time decided to have another child, let alone one without a single purpose in the life of humans. He was just…there.
Destiny wouldn’t give his little brother much attention do to him being busy with his books. Death traveled around a lot and and being the oldest she wanted to take responsibility, but her own tasks kept her busy. Desire wasn’t very kind to him along with Despair, they fed into his doubts and made him feel isolated whenever family dinners were scheduled. Delirium wasn’t in the proper state to handle the task that the rest of the siblings brushed the idea away and resulted into him landing in the hands of his most ruthless brother.
Dream.
Dream refused to have him in his realm until Death talked him into it, reminding him that Endless was still a child. As much as Dream wanted to refuse and leave his little brother to fend for himself, he caves into his sisters words and allows his brother to stay in his realm until he received a proper purpose and moved onto his own future tasks. Everyone thought that he was a late bloomer. Perhaps he will get something once the time is right.
Two hundred years later and he was still Endless.
At the beginning, Death was the one who grew worried for her little brother. Even Destiny would read his books in hopes of finding something, but his fate is never shown. He’s like a ghost to their world, no matter how many years pass his fate is never written and it leaves them all believing that this is the one sibling who will receive no purpose and state endless forever.
Endless grew up understanding that he would never be like his siblings and will remain in the shadows. Hidden behind his siblings and remain an outcast. He would have expected Dream to exile him from his realm when discovering that he was nothing but a waste of time and space, but his brother had shown him kindness and allowed him to stay for as long as he wished. Endless had grown to know his bother, Dream, the most and had seen the cruel and cold side that his brother showed to others until the day he was imprisoned for a hundred years.
During that time he watched his brothers realm fall apart and unlike the other dreams who left he stayed behind with Lucienne. His brothers most loyal creation and possibly the kindest dream he’s ever known. The return of his brother had created a shift in his realm. He was…different. His hatred for humanity changed during his time of rebuilding his realm and searching for his tools along with tracking down the Corinthian.
A nightmare that Endless knew very well. He’s his bother favorite creation. A nightmare that he adored no matter how scary he looked until he left the Dreaming and started harming humanity. Making nightmares a reality for them. The Corinthian wasn’t a ‘bad’ nightmare. He was simply curious about the Waking and the way humanity lived, before he became this killer he was actually a good nightmare. Endless enjoyed hearing his stories as a nightmare and the smile he always received from him, it made him feel welcomed in some strange way.
But now he’s back to being alone after his brother Dream imprisoned the Corinthian. The other dreams and nightmares didn’t speak to him, due to their own busy duties. But their was another nightmare that followed him everywhere, one that he feared.
Pitch.
Pitch was a new nightmare that his brother created after rebuilding the Dreaming and getting everyone back home. This new nightmare focused on peoples fears, reminded them of what they avoided in their lives, only to be reminded at the dead of night. Pitch loved being a nightmare, he liked watching humans cower in fear when he crept into their dreams, only to ruin them and keep them awake at night. Contemplating about their life choices.
This nightmare had grown to hover around Endless whenever he was alone. Pitch took advantage to whisper words into his ear, reminding him of his own fears and clearly laughing at him. It resulted into Endless spending most of his time alone in the library with Lucienne where he felt safest and away from Pitch. He kept himself busy reading books and helping Lucienne around the library until nightfall when he returned to his own chambers that his brother had created for him and tried his best to sleep, if possible.
Endless hasn’t slept in centuries. He was in the realm of dreams and yet, he did not. His brother had used the sand on him before, but nothing happened. He remained awake until the sunrise in the dreaming, so all he did in his chambers was read or lay on his bed and think about his family. His parents and the reasoning as to why he was made. There were times were he tried to visit his other siblings realms to keep himself distracted, but had forgotten that he needed an invitation to enter their homes.
Everyone had a sigil but him, so reaching out to his siblings was a lot harder for him. He’d have to ask Dreams permission to see his siblings, but a lot of the time he was rejected and reminded that his siblings were far too busy for a social meeting. Dinners were the only time that he could see them all, even if his relationship with a few of them weren’t the best, he still tried to fit into the family. He tried to be like them in a similar way without feeling like an extra.
It wasn’t until one day that Dream was called in by Destiny for a family gathering. Endless had the invitation to be there for his siblings, but then again, he didn't always feel welcomed. When stepping through threshold of Dreams realm and into Destiny’s he’s met with the oldest standing straight with his cloak on him along with the large book in his hands, the one he took with him everywhere.
“Dream.” He says in greeting and looks over to the youngest and greets him with a simple nod. Endless had grown up without a proper name that he’s grown used to the silent greetings.”well, well, if it isn’t our little baby brother.” The sound of Desires voice echos around their brothers dinning hall, getting the attention of Endless and Looking towards their direction, catching a glimpse of their attire and giving off a faint frown. “Desire.” He says back.
Everyone is reunited at the dining hall. The rest of their siblings sitting around the round table, leaving one chair empty. The chair that belonged to his oldest brother, Destruction, the one siblings that he’s never met. He’s only heard stories about him from Delirium since she’s the only one who seemed to have a good relationship with him before he disappeared. Neither of his other siblings spoke about Destruction since they’ve agreed to leave him alone, along with forgetting him.
Not even Dream spoke about him.
Endless didn’t know the Prodigal well enough to know how everyone felt about his disappearance. He doesn't even know the kind of person his brother is, he was a mystery to him. A stranger. He sits next to that empty chair every time they have dinner together. A stark reminder of an outcast that he is.
The only one who sits next to him is Dream, but nothing, but an empty chair on his right. Showing that he only had one sibling on his side who cared. “Seems like a family reunion if we have the stray tagging along.” Desires words get his attention and looks away from the butterflies that his sister Delirium had created, flapping around him as he frowns at his sibling. “What’s that suppose to mean?”
“Everyone knows that you don’t usually come to these gathering.” Their lips curl into a grin. “I mean you weren’t here for the last gather which was a few years ago, right?” He doens’t have to be reminded of the times he missed out on their dinners together. It wasn't because he didn't want to come, but because he was never invited unless it was deemed important, just like today.
“Must be nice not having responsibilities like the rest of us.” They add on, clearly trying to rile him up or getting a reaction out of him for being left out on gatherings.
“Enough.” Said Death, his older sister giving their sibling a disapproving look, but Desire doens’t back down. “Oh, don’t shelter the boy.” They say, “He knows I’m right. Four hundred years and he’s only ever been to a few of these gathers—how many? Five? Six? We’ve had plenty of these without him, I’m sure whatever reason we were called for is probably for something meaningless.”
Endless wants to argue with Desire to tell them that he deserved to be here, he was family too.
“Remember he’s nothing but a stray that mother and father thrusted into our hands.” His siblings words dim that light of acceptance and looks away, clearly hurt by their words. A stray is all he is and ever really will be to his siblings the one without a purpose.
He didn't know what to say to their statement and grows quiet.
“That was really rude.” Said Delirium, throwing their sibling a glare. “Apologize, Desire.”
“What do you wish for me to say, sister mine?” They slowly sit up from where they sat and began to hum, thinking of what to say next with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m sorry that mother and father had another child? Sorry that you have no reason to be one of us?” They continued on, pointing out the little things that had him thinking at night.
“Sorry that you became a disappointment in our eyes.”
He abruptly stands from where he sat, hands on the table as he felt his heart race, glaring at his sibling who simple smirked. “Did I struck a nerve?” Endless stays quiet and instead of comforting their sibling he walks away from the table, leaving his siblings behind and wandering off in his brothers realm.
He finds himself in his brothers garden, away from the others and sitting near the fountain where he listened to the water fall. There were times where he wished that things were different, perhaps a time where he could be like them to become something other than Endless. Maybe it would’ve been better if he was never born.
He's been meaning to ask his parent about it but they never accepted his invitation. Leaving him in the dark as the others usually did.
“There you are.”
He looks over his shoulder to find Death standing over him with a knowing warm smile on her lips. She moves to sit next to him and sighs deeply. “You know Desire was only trying to get you upset.” She says which had him scoffing. “They always are.” He mumbled out and avoided his sisters gaze. She is the oldest amongst them all and perhaps the one with the most important purpose of all. She was there to guide people to the afterlife, to be the first and last face they see.
She was always trying her best to be there for him, but her work kept her busy and away.
“Look, don’t listen to anything they say—you’re our brother and things are different.” She tried to be reasonable but he wasn't hearing it. He’d rather she not waste her breath on trying. He stands from where he sat and looks at his sister with a sad look in his eyes. “Let dream know that i’ll be back in the Dreaming.” Is all he says and turns to leave his sister behind. She calls out for him, but he doens’t look back like and returns back to the dreaming by himself, leaving his siblings to handle whatever business they were called for.
The dreaming was perhaps the only place that he felt at peace. The one place where he had some friends to talk to whenever he wasn’t feeling well. He crosses the bridge to his brothers castle, the guardians allowing him to enter without question. Upon entering he heads straight to his own chambers where he can think in silence and be alone.
Only isolation isn't something he will be getting today. Before he even makes it to his chambers he finds Pitch roaming the halls. It was normal for dreams and nightmares to visit the castle without permission unless requesting an audience with the dream lord.
“Dreams not here. If you’re looking for him.” He says. Getting the nightmares attention who looks away from a portrait that he was eyeing. His dark yellow eyes land on him, his lips twitching up into a knowing grin and a hint of those sharp teeth become visible. “I’m not looking for the dream lord, I was actually looking for you.” He nods at him which has him frowning in return.
He never liked Pitch, he was always reminding him of his fears and right now wasn’t the time to deal with the nightmare. “Whatever it is I don’t want to hear it, so please leave me alone.” He merely begs the nightmare as he walk past him, trying to get to his room.
“Family dinner not go well?” He eggs on, turning around to watch him walk away. “Still being questioned about your existence?” He said, voice louder this time. The Endless sibling stops in his steps, back facing the nightmare as he takes in his words. He wasn’t once to cave into Pitches words, but today wasn't a good day for him at all and he didn't want to deal with the nightmare who fed off of his insecurities.
He takes in a deep breath and turns back around to face Pitch. “What do you want, Pitch?” The nightmares smirk widens as he steps forward, eyeing him like prey. His hands behind his back as he began to circle him. “You want to know something that I enjoy as a nightmare?” He questions. His pacing slow and calculated. “One thing I know best is everyone’s greatest fears, yours is that you’ll never find your place in your family.”
Pitch finally stands in front of him, staring him down. “Why, why were you chosen to be like this?”
He didn't have a real answer for the nightmare. Not even he knew why he was chosen to be like this. “I wish I knew.” He whispers back, fighting back his own emotions, but Pitch can read him like an open book. “Would you like to find out?” His brows furrowed at the nightmares offer and takes a step back. “What do you mean?” He questioned back, clearly this nightmare was planning something.
Pitch was a nightmare a literal nightmare, so why listen to him?
“The dreaming isn’t the only place you can visit.” He began to say as he circled around him again, standing behind him as he whispers into His ear. “The waking world holds the answers.” He flinched at the sound of his voice and pulls away. “The Waking? No, no I cannot leave the dreaming without my brothers permission.”
“See! That’s were you’re wrong. How are you suppose to find out who you are if you allow your own brother to hold you back? Don’t you see? In order to find out your own purpose you must leave the dreaming and find out yourself.” Pitch rounds him, standing in front of him again. “Maybe you’ll find whatever you’re looking for out there rather than here.”
His words sounded inciting. He’s never left his brothers realm, let alone visited the waking. He’s read about humans and how they are and act, but he’s never really been allowed to leave unless his brother joins him. Dream has always been busy and rarely leaves the dreaming unless needed too.
But Pitches words made sense, his siblings purpose revolved around humans, without them they are nothing. Just like him. He's thinking, weighing his options. He could go by himself to the waking and see what its like, see if he can find something thats for him. To finally give himself a proper name.
He glanced over to Pitch who stood by his side. “Think about it.” He starts again. “You’re family is out there doing their jobs while you rot away in this place. For all we know your purpose is out there waiting for you!” He can’t help him bite back his own smirk. “Maybe this was their plan all along, keeping you isolated from the world, perhaps you do have a purpose and they are just afraid of seeing you having something more meaningful then them.”
He frowns at Pitch, not believing him. This is what he does; he lies, he eggs you on until you cave into his desires and fall for his enticing words. He doens’t say anything else and walks away from Pitch, approaching his room and stepping inside, making sure to close the door behind him.
—
“Why are we here?” Dream is the first to ask. He already knows that his brother doesn’t usually call for friendly family matters unless its something serious and based on the way he clutches his book close is enough for Dream to know that this is something important. The eldest gives a look at each sibling that sat on the table. Destiny’s eyes drift to the two empty chairs. “Something unexpected, yet, important is to occur.” Destiny began to say, getting the attention of all of his siblings. “An occasion that sparks a chain of events causing much change and upheaval.”
“What kinds of occasion?” Death asked after coming back from comforting her little brother.
“This meeting.” Destiny responded as the siblings all looked at each other. Dream can tell that something else is being hidden, something that they aren’t being told. “What kind of change and upheaval?” Asked Dream, leaving the others confused, but Dream is left determined, wanting to know what his brother was meaning about this new revelation that he discovered.
Destiny grows quiet, staring at Dream with a blank stare, unwilling to say anything until he slowly looks to Dreams Left side where an empty chair sat next to him—it wasn’t the Prodigals seat, but their youngest brothers.
—
He sits on his bed, thinking about Pitches idea. It’s ridiculous, really. Why should he trust a nightmare, let alone one who’s been tormenting him since he was created. He shouldn’t fall into the nightmares ideas, but he can’t help but think about the suggestion. He’s spent four hundred years in his brother realm, pondering if he was ever meant to be an Endless, to be apart of this family. He couldn’t create dreams like his brother, he didn't even have a name for himself, so why stay here for another hundred years with little to no effort made in his own life.
As he sat there he’d glance at the door every once an while, debating on taking the nightmares advice. His brother wouldn’t even notice that he’s left the dreaming. It could be a quick in and out to the waking and then back to the dreaming. His brother wouldn’t even notice.
With a deep sigh through his nose he stands up from where he sat and walks over to the door. He reaches out to push the handle down and pulling the door open, he expected himself to go searching for this nightmare and didn’t think he’d find him waiting outside his door. At the sight of Pitch, his own eyes light up with mischief at the sight of the youngest Endless. He doens’t even need to hear his answer, already knowing what he’s going to say.
“Shall we?”
He knows this is a terrible aide and yet, he agrees with the nightmare and respond back with a single nod. It’s not long until the two are out of the castle and crossing the bridge. He’s grateful that the guardians didn't question him leaving and resumed with their own duties as protectors of the castle. Not even the other dreams in the realm stop to speak to him, not when Pitch is walking by his side, everyone avoided the man like the plague, they knew the kind of things he does to humans and didn’t appreciate nightmares.
When they enter the sandy ruins of the Dreaming, far away from the castle, he doesn’t hesitate to look over his shoulder, sparing the castle from a distance a glance.
“Having second thoughts?” Pitch questions him. His hands behind his back and with a tilt of his head as he watches him carefully, checking to see if he perhaps had some doubt and decide to turn back around and head back to the castle. But instead he’s met with a soft ‘no’ from the youngest sibling and turns away from the direction of the castle and continues moving forward.
The journey through the dreaming is long, he doens’t know how far away they are until the finally reach the gates that will lead them to the waking world. Before he can open them he looks over to Pitch. “Where exactly are we going?” He questions the nightmare who gives off a faint chuckle and steps forward, placing his dark hand on the large gates. “Somewhere filled with fear.”
His brows furrowed when hearing this and opens his mouth to protest, but it was already too late. Pitch pushed the gates open and placed a cold hand behind his back, shoving him forward. His eyes widen as he falls, looking over to pitch who grins widely and follows after him, the both of them free falling into a pit of darkness. The light above him disappearing fast, plunged into the darkness of the dreaming as he continued to fall. He can hear Pitches mocking laughter, he had lost sight of the nightmare and before he can shout his name he's pulled further down.
A gasp escaping his mouth until his back meets solid ground. A groan erupts from him, eyes scrunched up in pain as he slowly feels the ground around him and opens his eyes to see the stars. He can smell smog and smoke in the air, he can hear loud noises all around him. But the one thing that gets his attention the most is the pain he feels. He's never felt pain before.
He pushes himself up and reaches up to rub the back of his head only to wince when the pain flares up again. He rubs gentle circles on his head while he looked around. He was laying behind a few dumpsters, perfect place to hide while randomly appearing here. Once he’s stable enough to get up he grabs onto the handle of the dumpster and hoists himself up. The alley way he's currently in is filthy, trash litters the place, leaving a horrible smell behind. He moves slowly, the pain still settling on his head as he makes his way out of the place and into the Main Street of the waking.
He's read about the waking world, his brother told him stories. But he's never actually been to the Waking, so this was all new to him. The street he finds himself in is..filthy. The sound of moving feet has him looking around to see a few mortals moving about their day, a few were running to wherever they need to be while others move simultaneously to their own destination.
That he’s moving out of the way when a crow approaches, stumbling into the street where he’s startled by a loud honk. He’s reacting quickly and holding his hand out, beaming lights blinding his vision and uses his hand to block the lights, hearing the driver shout at him. He’s moving to the side and watches as the vehicle drives off once the road is clear. He doens’t waste much time getting to the other side of the road, feeling overwhelmed by the new environment around him. Dream had once told him that he’s visited a place called London in the Waking, he described the place to him and how calm the streets were and the people, depending on the day, could be cheerful, but this place didn’t feel like the one his brother described.
No. It felt dark and somewhat isolated. He felt like he’s being watched from where he’s standing, causing him to shiver. He lets out a deep breath, keeping his racing heart steady. “Hold yourself together.” He whispers to himself and looks up and down the street. He was here to see if he could find anything that could give him meaning as an endless, only to fall into Pitches trick. Now he's stranded in a place he doens’t know and with a nightmare on the loose, a nightmare he allowed to escape.
His brother won’t be happy when he realizes that Pitch is missing and its all because of him. It’s his fault that this has happened and needs to find Pitch and drag him back the dreaming before his brother comes searching himself. “Find Pitch, find Pitch.” He mumbled under his breath and stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his black coat. He thinks before he can move.
Ptich strives off of fear.
Anything can be turned into fear, he’s seen pitch do it. All he can do right now is wander around until he finds something that could relate to Pitch. He debates on either going left or right and finally decides to follow he crowd of people, moving his legs and finally making some progress on his mission. Lucienne had once given him books about human technology and had studied it for years, really.
So the running train above him doesn’t surprise him. He can pick up on the wheels scratching against the metal rails and the graffiti that littered the train cars which has him frowning at the condition of such things. This place was nothing like the books. It’s dark and cold a perfect place to call Pitches playground.
He doens’t know how long he’s been walking for until he finds a way to the top of a bridge, getting a clear view of the place around him. Perhaps high ground could help him find Pitch until he hears a familiar laughter. He looks away from the traffic below him and around him until his eyes land on Pitch who gives a wave in mock which has him glaring at the nightmare and chasing after him.
Pitch disappears within the crowd of people, but that doesn't stop him from chasing after Pitch. He’s shoving past people and apologizing while doing so, eyes never leaving pitch who takes a turn behind a building. His disappearance has him picking up pace and running around the corner only to slam into the nightmare.
Before he can fall down, Pitch is grabbing onto his arms, keeping him steady and chuckling. “Reckless little Endless.” He coos out and before he can find a way to return them back to the dreaming. Pitch reaches out and places his hand on his face, causing his breath to hitch and freezing up.
“You are so easy to trick, little one.” He began to say as he picks him up, arm under his legs and the other on his back as he carried him. “You see, I enjoy being a nightmare. I like watching dreamers cry in their sleep and relive their biggest fears during a time of peace.” He continued on. While he carried him through the back streets of the city.
“Until one night I found a dreamers dream enticing.” He smirks at the Endless who remained frozen in place unable to move. He could hear the nightmares words at they moved. “A simple human had studied the brain and wanted to see what kind of reaction they get when fear is injected into their lives by force. A power play to be exact.” The sound of voices can be heard, loud ones that had him twitching.
Pitch approaches a door that is pulled open for him. Two men dressed in hazmat suits allow Pitch to enter the building, leaving the Endless confused, his brows furrow until he’s placed on top of a metal table and the two men work on strapping him down, by the time he’s strapped down, an invisible weight is lifted and he’s able to move again.
“Pitch.” He hisses at the nightmare who simply watched him struggle.
The two men move around the room, he’s watching them as they mess around with a few vials and mix chemicals together.
“You see,” Pitch approached him, standing over him and placing a hand on the table to lean in close and whisper in a dark husky tone. “I need you. An endless doesn't die, but the never said that you can’t feel.” He glanced over to the men finishing up the toxin, holding a syringe in their gloved hands and walking back to them.
Pitch doesn’t hesitate to snatch the toxin from their hands, holding it like its nothing. “I made a very interesting friend who shared the same ideas as I did. So I thought, why not pay him a visit and provide some assistance?” He holds the syringe in his fingers and works on rolling the Endless’ sleeve up. “His toxin brings fear to humans, add a little of my fear and perhaps we create something big. Something permanent.”
His eyes widen at the thought of being plagued with fear, living with the horror of his greatest fears and being tossed int the darkness, reliving every little thing that he despised, forever.
He tugs on his restraints and whimpers at the sight of Pitch gripping his arm tight, nails diffing into his skin as the needle makes contract with his skin. He watches the toxin disappear into his body along with a hint of Pitches dark sand. He doesn't last a minute until the affects start to take over, his body grows hot and his vision began to blur.
He’s trying to shake away the toxin settling inside him. His skin tingles and he began to grow lightheaded. Pitch instructs both men to lift he table, getting a better view of the endless as he’s placed upright the restraints holding him up as he shakes his head again. He’s breathing heavily and blinking his eyes, adjusting his own vision until he sees Dream. His older brother standing before him with a look of disappointment in his eyes.
“You allowed a nightmare to escape, I trusted you.” His brothers voice echos in his head. “I—I’m sorry—“
“Look at you, I told you that you were only trouble. Why would our parents go through all that trouble in making us another sibling?” Desire.
“He has no fate. An endless with no ending.” Destiny.
“Don’t worry, little brother. You’re making our lives much easier now.” Despair.
The whispering words of disappointment from his siblings causes him to mumble in sorrow. “Please, please, I can do better, I can find my purpose, please—“ He’s begging to the hallucinations of his siblings.
“You are nothing. No amount of trying and searching will get you to the purpose that you want, you defiled my rules and allowed another nightmare to escape my realm. Now I have to pick up the mess you left.” Dreams harsh tone can be heard against his ear.
“No, no, please, I can still fix this!” He sobs out.
His breath hitches at the sight of his parents; Night and Time.
“We never loved you and never will. You were nothing but a waste of time.”
Pitches watches from where he stood, grinning widely at the sight of the Endless’ state of delirium. He enjoys watching him suffer and reliving his own dark fears that plagued his mind. The toxin and his sand were working well, but not well enough to satisfy him. He knows that Jonathan will be more than pleased to receive something stronger, something that can possibly result into humans killing themselves in order to escape the screaming voices.
“Lets give him another dosage.” Said Pitch.
The two scientists nod their heads and turn back to the table to create another dosage to use on the endless who was already struggling with the voices in his head. The voices of his siblings disappointment and his own.
When a new dosage is handed to pitch the nightmare hums in delight and takes a step forward to a thrashing sibling and is quick to inject the second toxin into his system. “This should give us some results.” He says and tossed the empty syringe aside.
The Endless throws his head back with a cry, trembling under the restraints as he screams and cries in agony. Not only was the toxin messing with his head but it was becoming too much for him to the point where the voices grow louder and louder, the sight of his siblings shouting insult after insult, his own doubt and insecurities getting to him too. The things he thinks about at night in the dreaming when he can’t sleep are louder than ever and he wants it to stop.
“Please…stop.” He sobs out, sweat covering his face and eyes growing red from the toxin as he began to cough.
Pitch only grins at the sight, something dark stirring inside him. “Lets do another.”
One would think that the scientists would put a stop to it, but no. This was their goal too and go back to making another for Pitch to use on the Endless.
He’s trembling, vision growing faint by the drugs inside him that with a blurry vision he watches Pitch turn into a monster, his yellow eyes glowing and voice turning into a growl when he speaks. The nightmare steps forward. “Lets see how long you can last.” And before he can inject him with a third dosage the sound of a loud crash can be heard from above.
He weakly lifts his head up to see another monster standing from where it kneeled. It had long ears and dark red eyes before charging towards the scientists and throwing them across the room. His vision continued to blur until finally blacking out when the new monster approached him.
