Dream Of The Endless - Blog Posts

I usually don’t like to judge shows before they even come out. But at the same time, for what reason did they not add comic Morpheus’s eyes.

Like you can’t tell me a fan flim was able to make Morpheus look like this:

And Netflix with their much bigger budget couldn’t done that.

Mr Sandman, man me a sand, make him the cutest, car door hook car hand

Hm. Your interpretation of this character displeases me. Guards! Take them away! Make them read the source material once more, and if that fails, the stocks.

Terribly excited about the new season 🥹🖤

Mr. Snooze of the Endless or whatever

Sandy makes Dream happy  :’D

Jessamy, Raven of the Dreaming, messenger of Lord Morpheus, his eyes and ears in other realms, bearer of hot gossip.

1389.

The Dreaming titters with the knowledge that something has happened, a new star in the sky above the throne room, burning suddenly bright.

"That's Hob Gadling," Jessamy confides to Lucienne. "Lord Morpheus' sister granted him immortality."

"Why on Earth would she do something like that?" Lucienne asks.

Jessamy ruffles her feathers. "She saw the way Lord Morpheus looked at him. He hasn't looked at something like he cared that much in centuries."

1489.

"How was—"

"Oh he's so handsome now," Jessamy gushes before Lucienne can finish her question. "And he's gotten into printing."

Lucienne looks around the already-expanding library, shifting and adjusting to suit the needs of a human populace whose relationship to the written word has changed forever. It's been like this some time.

The newest star in the throne room shines a little brighter.

1589.

"You seem—"

"He walked away from Hob," Jessamy says. She loves Lord Morpheus with all her heart, but sometimes she forgets he was never human.

"Did he do something wrong?" Lucienne asks, running a comforting finger over her head.

"He's happy," Jessamy says. "I think it was an affront."

1689.

Jessamy barrels into Lucienne's chest, trying to scrabble under her coat.

A waking world raven has no tears to shed, but part of Jessamy will always be human, and she does not wish to cry in front of an audience. Lucienne is a librarian, she's accustomed to keeping people's secrets.

"He's been alone and miserable for eighty years."

"Lord Morpheus?" Lucienne asks. "It's been much longer tha—"

"Hob!" Jessamy wails.

"Oh," Lucienne pauses. "Did he ask for—"

"He still wants to live!" Jessamy sobs.

"Ah." Unknown to Jessamy, tucked under Lucienne's coat, Lucienne smiles.

The star in the throne room blazes like a sun.

1789.

"They were attacked," Jessamy reports.

"Who were?" Mervyn, finally, has decided to catch up with the local gossip.

"Lord Morpheus and Hob Gadling," Jessamy explains, vibrating with energy. "Hob got up to defend him before I could wriggle my way out of his coat. It's so tight this century."

Lucienne smiles a knowing little smile. “Did he, now? That is interesting.”

In the throne room, Lord Morpheus watches the star.

1889.

Lucienne finds Jessamy hiding in a gap in a bookshelf, glaring out at the world with barely restrained anger.

“He walked away again. All Hob offered was friendship. He wants it. I don’t understand.”

Lucienne offers an arm, and when Jessamy accepts it, holds her close to her chest, stroking her gently.

“This is why he’s immortal,” Lucienne says wisely. “Lord Morpheus has never made a friend before. It’s a slow process.”

2022.

“I’m sorry, is there something… moving in your coat?” Hob asks, halfway through an anecdote about the first car he’d owned.

Dream clears his throat subtly. He hesitates, and then holds the coat open, to reveal the head and a strip of striking white breast of what looks, to Hob, like a very small, very strange raven.

“I thought her lost,” Dream says softly. “But found her wandering the Dreaming once it was put to rights. She has been eager to meet you for some time. I had always intended to introduce you,” he adds, clearly for the raven’s sake rather than Hob’s. “I had simply meant to ease him into the idea first.”

The raven nuzzles his cheek.

Hob’s heart swells three sizes.

"This is Jessamy," Dream says. "She has been exceptionally loyal to me." A pause. "And to you, when I have been… unkind."

Hob tilts his head. Jessamy tilts hers right back. "She's been in your coat the whole bloody time, hasn't she?"

Something Hob had never thought to see no matter how long he lived happens then. Dream blushes.

Jessamy makes a soft sound that serves as an answer, and Hob grins at her. "I like you," he says. "We can be friends too, if you like."

"I'd like that," Jessamy says.

Hob is very lucky he literally can't have a heart attack. At the same moment, there's a tap on the window. A bigger, all black raven is perched on one of the chairs next to it.

"Ah," Dream says. "It appears Matthew would also like to make your acquaintance."

Hob blinks. He looks at Jessamy. He looks at Matthew. He looks at Dream.

"How many bloody ravens do you have?"

I just wanted to draw them hugging (;_;)

part 2 of my hope!hob Pandora's box au

part 1

word count: 2079

Morpheus picks the candle up and rolls it in his hand, examining it. it's not really anything special, just a yellow prayer candle. The glass is completely blank showing off the candle completely. He runs his fingers over the smooth glass considering putting something on it, like a sticker or something. Does he even have any stickers? Does hope even like stickers? Does he know what stickers are? He shakes the thoughts from his head and instead thinks about what story to tell. He'd thought about it a lot over the past few days. He's lived so long. How could he possibly choose where to start? Would hope have some sort of request?

he eventually decides to just light it, maybe his audience will inspire him and everything will work itself out once hope is here. Morpheus grabs a match and lights the candle and for a moment, everything is still. Morpheus looks around not seeing anything change and wonders if he did what he was supposed to. Maybe he was supposed to light it on an altar? Moving to a small table in his living room, he notices all the lights in his house are getting noticeably brighter until he has to set the candle down on the little table and cover his eyes from the blinding light. He keeps his face covered until he can tell the light has died down. When he uncovers his eyes he sees hope looking at him with a confused look.

"why were you covering your face?" he asks as Morpheus blinks away the floaters from hopes entrance

"your entrance was very bright" he says rubbing his eyes "if i hadn't it would have caused some serious damage to my eyes"

"oh I'm so sorry" hope apologizes stepping back and pulling his hands seemingly into his chest "I didn't know I'll try not to do it next time" he says looking down.

"It's alright, I doubt you can help it" Morpheus says turning back to the little table kneeling "next time I'll just close my eyes and face the wall after I light the candle." he assures hope as he clears the table of its previous inhabitants.

"What are you doing?" Hope asks, peering over his shoulder.

"I'm making a specific space for your candle." He explains picking up the candle to wipe down the table. He doesn't notice the endless' start to glow behind him.

"like.. an, alter?" hope inquires expectantly. no one had ever made HIM an alter before, it was always for some lesser being, made to syphon from him through a god or deity, he could feel it while he was in the box. he felt the faint pull in his chest, the construction and destruction of temples and altars made for others in an attempt to reach him through them. to have an altar made with specifically him in mind, well, it was... flattering.

"Yeah, an altar. seems like the most efficient way to do this, to get you caught up when I'm busy. I can just leave you things and you can examine them to learn about the current state of the world." he explains, dusting off his hands and standing up "does seem a little bland right now though huh? I don't think my darker colors really match your candle though, gonna have to go out and get some white and gold stuff." he adds examining the bare 'alter' with nothing but a candle, 'hardly counts as an alter right now though'

Morpheus turns to face hope, noticing he's still wearing a tunic. "how about instead of a story we can go get you a new wardrobe and some stuff for your altar?" he suggests looking hope up and down "you'll have to change though, i think my clothes will fit you"

"i- i mean- yeah, sure, sounds fun." Hob can feel himself falling through the words, first the mortal makes him an altar then offers to not only buy him clothes but choose things for his altar? He stands there lost in thought for a moment until the aforementioned mortal speaks to him once more.

"Also, will you stay here if I snuff the candle? I don't want to waste it." he asks handing him a set of completely black clothes 'he doesn't want to waste it' hob thinks with a smile. "yes I will, is there a room I can change in?" after Morpheus helps him to the bathroom and leaves hope to change, he snuffs the candle and makes a small list of the things he knows he has to get:

gold tablecloth

white lace runner

small offering tray

one (1) nice outfit for hope

they'd have to go somewhere nearby, hope doesn't seem like he'd be too keen on travelling by anything other than foot. Luckily there's a small boutique and second hand store nearby where they should be able to get everything. hob walks out with the clothes slightly askew and holding a pair of shoes.

"I do not know how to put these on," he says, raising them slightly higher. Morpheus looks up from his list surveying hope in his clothes.

"I probably should've helped you, apologies" he says adjusting the clothes slightly "but you managed to get the socks on so overall I'd say this is a success" he declares, motioning for hope to sit down on the couch. as soon as he does Morpheus kneels to help hope with the shoes

"Will the clothes we get me today look like this?" Hope asks as he watches Morpheus tie the left shoe.

"no, were going to get you something nicer, these clothes are just easy to take off and put on" he explains tying the right shoe "makes the whole process of clothes shopping easier" he sighs looking up "ready to go?" he asks standing up, hope nods. "alright let's go then."

the shops truly aren't that far. a ten minute walk at best. They don't talk much as Morpheus is too lost in thought and hope is too enamoured by the advancements of civilization, so enamoured in fact that he almost gets hit by a car. If Morpheus hadn't pulled him back onto the sidewalk at the last second he would've been very uncomfortable. He takes a minute to process what's going on and notices he is very close to Morpheus, almost burrowed into his chest with his arms wrapped around him. and Morpheus is so very comfortable and warm with the long coat he has on an-

"Okay" the word cuts through Hob's thoughts like a xiphos as Morpheus backs up to look him in the eyes and holds out his hand "take my hand."

"why?" If hob were human he'd say he could feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes widened. but he's not human so he could soundly tell you  that he was glowing slightly.

"So you don't go, somehow unknowingly, stepping into oncoming traffic." he explains as he holds his hand up a little higher, hob takes it and they continue on their way.

Morpheus wouldn't say he was out of his depth when it came to clothes shopping, he just didn't buy color very offten. All of his clothes were various shades of black and dark grey with a few lighter greys (to which his students never failed to make a comment along the lines of 'busting out the spring collection I see' ) but looking at hope in his clothes... well he just didn't look right in black. but trying to figure out what base color to start with was tricky. black was out of the picture but yellow seemed too strong to use as a base. Eventually he settled on a white button up to layer with some sort of sweater. Maybe that's where the yellow could come in? He could worry about that in a moment, he should deal with the rest of the outfit first then the rest of the layers. He looked over all his options, made some choices and measured them against hope to get the right size and sent him to try them on and went looking for some layers. Maybe a blue sweater? but then the colors would-

"professor galanis?" uh oh "what are you doing here? its for sure not your style.'' This much was very true, though he hadn't expected to run into any of his students so he absolutely did not come up with a cover story.

"well, i-"

"hey, could you help me with this?'' The students' eyes go wide and Morpheus can't tell if the interruption is a blessing or curse but goes to help nonetheless. After defeating the buttons he hands hope a couple sweaters to try on and turns around to see his student still standing there.

"sorry about that I-"

"don't even worry about it sir." she says with a smile "sorry for interrupting your … outing." he’s going to get so many questions on Monday "i'll just-"

"actually, could you help me?" he will never hear the end of them "I'm not much of a color person and I need to pick out some accessories"

her eyes light up and she smiles wider "of course sir, i wasn't planning on buying anything anyways"

They spend far more time in the store than Morpheus had planned and by the end of the trip Hope has several outfits with accessories to match. The outfit he's wearing to replace Morpheus's clothes consists of a pair of cuffed blue jeans, a pale yellow sweater over a white button up, a string of fake pearls and a pair of converse.

"Thank you Ms. Tarcey," he says as they start heading out.

"no problem Mr. g, I came out to window shop and this was way more fun!" she says, opening the door.

"I'm sure it was," he says with a laugh "to show my gratitude, I'm willing to give you full marks on the writing assignment I know you haven't started." he offers as they get to the street watching as her eyes go wide and mouth falls open. "Now this is a one time thing. I will not offer this if you help me again." he warns, grabbing Hope's hand before he can run down the sidewalk to follow a dog.

"sir you have no idea how much that helps me" she mumbles, face still in total shock.

"I actually do," he quips. "have a good evening Ms. Tarcey. I'll see you Monday" he says leading hope to the secondhand store across the street.

"who was that?" hob asks once they're in the store.

"one of my students." Morpheus says inspecting a tablecloth. "I teach creative writing" he clarifies, putting the tablecloth back and picking up another. "What do you think of this one?" he asks, handing the fabric to hope.

The cloth is a rich yellow with a light shine, when the light hits it, shifting it reveals a pattern akin to Victorian woodwork, hob doesn't know that of course but he thinks it's beautiful anyways. He looks over to Morpheus who is carefully inspecting other tablecloths and table runners. hob notes how sharp his facial features are, how … elegant … they look. Morpheus turns back to him and he shakes the notion from his head.

"so..?"

"huh? oh, OH, yes i like it, it's perfect" hob chastises himself over how the words come out and picks up a thin lace table runner and pretends to examine it to keep his eyes from wandering. "this one's nice isn't it?"

"mm" he agrees silently, taking it from hob’s hand  and putting it in the small basket on his arm and walking towards a different part of the store. As he's following a small dish catches hob’s eye, well it's not really a dish, it's a scallop shell with a castle on a hill painted in blue on the inside and the edges are painted gold. He carefully turns it over in his hand examining it closely.

"Do you like it?"

Hob turns and sees Morpheus is behind him looking over his shoulder "oh yes, isn't it cool?" he beams, staring into morpheus's very.. pretty.. pale blue.. eyes.

"It is very pretty," he says, taking it from Hope's hand, examining it himself for a moment before gently putting it in the basket. "lets go check out." he says with a small smile and hob glows a tad.

sandman hope!hob au Pandora's box

okay so we know DC follows Greek/roman mythology to a point right? so Pandora's box must exist, and we all know the story right? hope gets trapped in the box after Pandora opens it.

part 2

wordcount: 1551

hope!hob is trapped within this box for several millennia all alone, not even taunted by captors, just isolated in the dark and quiet watching as new awful things are born within the box. I imagine the box is opened by someone just before the age of heroes begins. a scorned lover pouring all the new horrid things directly into their cheating, abusive partner and catching a very small light before it enters their gaping chest cavity. they hold hope there, magically closing the wound and sealing their lover into an endless void, outside of time’s realm condemning them to live forever in never ending pain. they do all this with one hand, carefully holding hope, they take his small form outside and whisper into their hand

“do something worthwhile with this freedom, any god out there knows we need you” the words are washy and weak “and if you cannot find the strength to do it all yourself, bless people to inspire you within the minds of the rest of us”

they open their hand and hob’s little light form takes off to see just how the world got on without him. not well obviously, a world with no hope is desolate and cold. hope goes back to his realm to call on his sister death to catch him up, and she tells him she knows just the person to do just that.

Morpheus has been around a long time. he was born after Pandora opened the box and the only word the people of his village called him was hopeless. this was not a surprise of course, hope was not where he was supposed to be, but the rest of the children still seemed to want to live. Morpheus however made it seem like a chore. he went through the motions as they came and did nothing more or less. he was a thing of beauty though, his demeanor didn’t stop suitors from pursuing him. they all did their best but none of them ever seemed to interest him. he even caught the eye of a king who gifted him a ruby necklace saying it popped against his pale skin and dark hair. Morpheus did not particularly want to keep it but his parents had insisted he keep it and marry the king anyway.

and so he did.

he was not particularly fond of his husband, but he didn’t dislike him. the marriage and his husband were just another motion. the grounds of his husband's kastro were vast and stretched for miles and ended in cliffs that Morpheus found himself standing before at the end of the many walks he took in a day. one particular evening, when the winds were stronger that usual, he found himself lingering at the cliff’s edge a bit longer and a bit closer than he normally would, and so had someone else

“are you going to jump?”

to say the voice had startled him would be incorrect, it had simply shifted his focus. the woman who the voice belonged to was dressed in a fine ebony cloth and a very simple necklace with a strange symbol he could not place, and her skin was just as pale as his, if someone had seen them together they might’ve thought they were siblings, still Morpheus did not especially care who she was or what she was doing here but answered her nonetheless

“no, but would it really matter if i did?”

“what does it matter? you know, most people have some sort of emotion towards the prospect of dying.”

“i suppose they do, don’t they? i don’t see why though, it’s going to happen whether they want it to or not”

“they probably see the beauty, or in some cases pain, that life has to offer” Morpheus tilted his head and thought for a moment before looking back at the woman

“perhaps life has nothing to offer me, nothing of value anyway” he said starting his way back to the kastro past the woman dressed in black. he had already gotten past her as she cocked her head and called back to him

“you know how you said it happens whether one wants it to or not?” he stopped and turned back to her

“yes, what of it?”

“it’s not going to happen to you”

“what?” she turned to face him once more

“you aren’t going to die, whether you want to or not. you are going to watch as life progresses and evolves into something you, at this moment, could never even fathom.” she beamed, before he could question her further one of the servants called his name, it was late and the king wanted him back in the kastro, he called back saying he’d be in soon, but when he turned to face her, she was gone.

now, hundreds of thousands of years later, as he stands in the entrance to his home, standing in the living room, the woman is before him once more for the second time. her clothes match the days casual fashion just as they had before, all black and very simple with the same necklace. the man next to her, however, is wearing clothes that fit with the first outfit he has at the very bottom of a trunk in his attic. a long pale yellow tunic with white underneath with traditional sandals. his hair reaches just above his shoulders and his head seems to have a faint gold glow around it. he's looking around at the shelves of books, movies and various musical mediums with awe before moving on to the trinkets and sculptures scattered around.

"I don't believe I introduced myself the last time we met" she pipes up drawing Morpheus's attention away from the man

"you did not." he confirms as he sets his bag down and hangs his coat "you also left quite suddenly" he adds as he takes off his shoes

"yes I did" she laughs "I'm here to rectify one of those things, I am death of the endless and this," she pauses to pull the man behind her to her side "is my brother, hope" the man smiles "and I have a favor to ask of you"

morpheus tilts his head "a favor, why would i do you a favor?"

"its not really for me, its for him" she says pushing him forward a bit

"he doesn't have to do anything for me if he doesn't want to" he says to her before turning to Morpheus "you really don't, I can figure it out by myself, sister I can figure it out on my own this really isn't necessary" his motions are slightly sporadic

"figure what out?" he asks walking to the kitchen thinking about what type of drink to get for his guests.

"you don't have to worry about it, it-"

"my brother hasn't been able to reach this realm for quite awhile, he needs someone to catch him up on what he's missed" death interrupts with a smile "and I thought who better than someone whos been around the longest?" she asks as she follows him to the kitchen

Morpheus ponders this for a moment 'what he's missed?' he pops his head out of the kitchen to take another look at hope 'based on his clothes he's probably never had hot chocolate' he thinks as he goes back in to start gathering the various types of chocolate from his pantry and put some milk on the stove.

"if I were to help him. what would I have to do? just give him the internet, could he just absorb the information?" he questions as he cuts up a chocolate bar.

"internet? what's an internet?" hope asks panicked "can it catch me? is it magic?"

"no hope, no, nononononono, it cant catch you" she reassures him "its like destiny's book but, um, well its hard to explain but its not a net, it cant catch you" she puts her hands on his shoulders and quietly says "no one is going to catch you again I promise. I wont let them"

'catch him again? where was he?' he thinks as he stops cutting 'who caught him?'

"okay no internet"

"no internet"

"i guess, i could just, i dont know, tell him stories?" morpheus suggests pouring the chocolate into the milk and stirring

"stories sound nice, i'd like to hear stories." hope says in a small voice

"you're gonna need some new clothes though," he says pouring the hot chocolate in a cup "tunics aren't exactly in style anymore. here I think you'll like this" he says handing it to hope, watching his reaction as his face lights up. like actually lights up. well not his face per say, but the light around his head.

"this is delightful! what is it?" hope beams (literally) looking into his cup

"you may not have been around but you still live within their souls, if ever so slightly. they are never truly free of you, hope" death says leaning over the counter. "anyway. hope, when Morpheus lights this candle it means he's ready to tell you a story. okay?" he nods "alright lets get you bac to your realm" "okay :)" and with that they're gone.

"..."

"I didn't even really agree" Morpheus says, holding the candle.

n e ways i hope the four people who see this and also read through all of it like it! thank you for reading!

King of Dreams, King of Nightmares… in any case, i just think he’s neat

These Violent Delights

Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix TV Serie)

Pairing: The Corinthian/Dream

Word count: 4559

Chapter: One-Shot

Rating: Mature/Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Dynamics, One-Sided Attraction, Violent Thoughts, No Smut, Possessive and Obsessive Behavior, Love/Hate, Violence, Angst

Link to AO3:

Summary :

The air was damp, a chilling breeze nipping at his skin, exciting the light hairs on the nape of his neck.

And then the Corinthian finally saw him.

He felt his various mouths water, gaze instantly drawn to the lean figure curled up in the middle of an intricate glass cage.

The King of Dreams was holy in his paleness. He was like a beacon of light in the surrounding darkness, his alabaster complexion starkly contrasting against jet-black hair.

Entranced by the view, the Corinthian took a step closer like a moth to a flame.

Seemingly asleep, Dream's head rested on his arms, long limbs tangled like winter wisteria around his body to hide his shame as best as he could, unwilling to bend to mortals even at his lowest.

-

[OR IN WHICH: The Corinthian decides to visit his caged creator after ten years of imprisonment.]

Part two is up!!

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

A messy Dream. Literally messy

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 8

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Warning: This chapter includes smut! Minors please dni.

For this update, I did some writing research to make my text better and richer, in order to avoid most repetition. Hopefully you will see me improve more and more with the future chapters.

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

And just like that, you found out that your best friend was immortal.

Chapter 8

After your first full night in the Dreaming, instead of meeting Morpheus on the beach again, you discovered places from your childhood memories you had entirely forgotten about and hadn’t even crossed your mind while you were awake. Moreover, you experienced peculiar events that either reminded you of your teenage years, or conveyed something too abstract for you to comprehend. You assumed this is how dreams normally operate, given that everything transpired beyond your control.

Seven whole days passed and you had not seen him once. You were aware that restoring his realm posed many complications, and that with the substantial number of humans who were falling asleep all over the globe, you weren't expecting any exclusive treatment from the otherwordly ruler of the Dream realm. Nonetheless, Morpheus had promised to see you again ‘soon’, and you didn’t quite understand what this implied for an immortal being with an eternity to spare. You needed to stop dwelling on it as it was making you anxious and sick.

In order to divert your attention, you proceeded in browsing new job vacancies on the internet, applying to corporations with an appropriate visual profile that matched your style. You were constantly checking your phone (which was fortunate enough to remain pristine after that tumble on the sidewalk), refreshing your email inbox. At the end of the day, you felt demoralized, albeit slightly amused, observing the amount of irritating spam populating your account.

You couldn't have won the lottery since you never bought a single ticket for it, and you weren't interested in claiming fake Amazon gift cards or accepting a one million bitcoin donation on your non-existent digital bank. You also couldn’t care less about the man who seemed to be enjoying a yellow banana up his butt, Nancy Pelosi being absolutely disgusted with whatever you might have done, and a certain Kim Smitherd offering millions of dollars to make you as rich as 'Bull Gates' while your aunt was dying.

You had to give these scammers credit for their entertaining content, at least.

On the bright side, your father was appearing to be progressively recuperating, gaining weight at a rapid pace and finally spending a lot more time outside of the house. He had struggled with his health for two years straight, simultaneously as Morpheus had endured a century of seclusion, solitude and mental affliction without ever turning his back on humanity. They both inspired you to relentlessly chase after your ambitions, even if it meant reaching out to each and every company in town that could provide you an opportunity.

Even though your heart sank every time you awakened devoid of sighting the King of Dreams, you carried on with all you wanted to complete, working hard from day to late evening to create some momentum in your stagnant routine.

Ten days after that sensual night with the Endless, your nerves were about to get the best of you. It was an emotion that you recalled all too well from your previous romances, and you truly hoped to not go through all that again. Since Morpheus didn't have a phone, you couldn't text nor call the Endless to invite him out for a drink. Matthew had paid you brief visits throughout that period, but the only information he disclosed was regarding how hectic Morpheus was with the reconstructions of his domain.

Feeling mentally fatigued and in need of some respite, you endevoavored to recuparate at Regent's Park, which occured to be your favorite area in London. In your childhood, your father frequently had you visit that place almost every weekend to relax and partake in a long walk amidst the captivating greenery and view the diverse species of birds that resided there. It was one of those locations that never changed, providing you with a pleasant sensation of nostalgia whenever you stopped by.

Arriving at the curved bridge over the lake, you set your arms upon the wooden railing and peacefully gazed at the ducks floating in the water, carried along by the calm flow. The discrepancy between the sounds of the natural world and the buoyant pulse of the streets was precisely what you needed, ideal for any mood you might be in.

In that particular instant, the rustling of leaves in the mild wind was consoling and harmonious. You were so lost in it that you failed to notice the woman proping herself on the guardrail beside you, observing you with a kind smile and waiting for you to acknowledge her presence. When you didn't, engrossed in your thoughts and fixated on the rippling patterns od the water underneath, she decided to initiate a conversation with a polite greeting.

“Hello.”

With a tilt of your head, you came face-to-face with a pair of dark, incredibly gentle eyes. The brown-skinned woman at your side left you struck with her voluminous black curls, so soft-looking that it almost made you want to touch them. The positivity that she exuded was immediately infectious - a rare quality in people that you couldn’t find often.

"Uhm… hello…?”

As she moved closer to where you were standing, her upper arm brushed against yours. Though the stranger's touch was in some way pleasant, it left you at a loss for words and with a bewildered look on your face. You searched your mind for any memories of her but couldn't find any.

Your brow wrinkled. "I apologize, but... have we met?"

The woman let out a brief chuckle, shaking her head. "No, but you definitely know my brother.”

You stared in confusion. "Who might he be?"

She didn't reply but kept gazing at you with the same friendly smile. Your eyes discended to the necklace she was wearing, an Ankh pendant attached to a long chain that sat comfortably on her chest.

You had read about the Ankh and what it meant in symbolism and in Egyptian culture; also known as "the key of life", it was generally used by ancient deities to represent their power and reviving human souls in the afterlife.

A symbol of life and death.

"There is Death, my sister. She is the one who greets the souls of the departed and guides them on their journey to The Sunless Lands.”

And then it hit you.

"You... you are her. Dream’s sister. You are Death."

Her smile broadened even more at your realization. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Y/N.”

Aftr the initial astonishment, you began to sweat profusely. What was the reason that Death herself had come to a random spot in London in order to meet a human who was lost in thought?

You were unable to contain it and said, "Please tell me you're not here to take my soul.”

She laughed. "Of course not. I just want to talk.”

Although her response relieved you, you recognized that Death was one of the Endless, a being of tremendous power and responsibility. What sort of communication was she intending to have with a mere mortal like yourself?

Unless…

The question came naturally, and the dread attached to it was quite weighty. "Did something happen to Morpheus? Is he okay??”

Seeing your concern, Death clasped your hand on the edge of the railing in a reassuring way. "He’s fine, this is not why I came here.”

You tried to make sense of it but nothing came to light. Death took both of your hands in hers, her eyes glistened as her bright expression shifted into something hollow. Her touch was gentle, but you could feel the strength in her fingers and the safety they transmitted.

Finally, she continued. "Thank you. For taking care of my little brother when I wasn't there,” she said, her voice low and slightly hoarse.

Your throat became dry, and you were unable to respond appropriately. Instead of addressing what she told you, you questioned her.

"Did you know that he was captured?"

Somehow, you quickly became accustomed to her touch, and when she removed her hands, you mentally protested at the sudden chill that enveloped your skin for the loss of contact, despite the warm temperatures outside.

She closed her eyes, confirming with a nod of her head.

“Why didn’t you help him?”

Death let out a deep sigh, turning her melancholic gaze towards the lake in front of the bridge. "The Endless are bound to certain rules that prohibit them from interfering with each other's domains. We exist in service to the universe and the living things within it, with our own tasks and realms to oversee.”

You were aware that you should have clamped your tongue and refrained from speaking so animatedly in the presence of a formidable entity, but the immense disappointment felt within your body urged you to give it expression.

"So, you couldn't step away from your duties even for five minutes? Maybe he was hoping that you or your siblings would come to his aid, to show that you cared and let him know he wasn't alone and forgotten by his own family. What's the point of rules when someone you care about is suffering like that?”

You were filled with regret almost instantly after speaking so fervently, despite the fact that you might not have fully grasped the situation. Nevertheless, her next statement only amplified your displeasure.

"Dream’s pride would have been damaged in ways that none of us would be able to repair."

"His well-being is more important than his pride."

The atmosphere became dense and solemn. You were so fervently protective of Morpheus that it clouded your judgment. Your knowledge of their existence in the universe was restricted, so how could you presume to teach them a lesson on what ought to be done based on your assesment?

You let out a frustrated sigh. "I apologize. I understand that it's not my place to judge. As an Endless, you certainly know better than I ever will from my humble human perspective. I just can’t see how leaving Dream to his fate and ego would make up for what he went through.”

Her smile once again beamed with warmth and joy, illuminating her entire face. "My brother means a great deal to you," she said.

Your cheeks immediately turned red at her statement, and she seemed to find your reaction amusing as she giggled under her breath. Without asking further about your feelings towards her brother, she nodded her head, gesturing for you to follow her. "Come on, let's take a walk.”

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her black jeans. Her equally dark tank top showcased her perfectly toned arms, with visible muscles lining them. Although she was generally slim, she was fit and a bit taller than you. Everything she did appeared human and ordinary, but the strength you sensed in her was enough to make anyone cower in fear.

Still, she had such a sweet approach that you could hardly believe she was the literal embodiment of a Reaper. Humanity had often portrayed these figures in inaccurate ways, prioritizing creativity over accuracy.

As you walked alongside her, the sound of children's laughter filled the park. Your feet moved in perfect sync with hers, while her imposing and confident strides in leather boots made your own sneakers seem small and insecure in comparison.

"You see," she explained, "my brother needed to learn a lesson about the consequences of his actions and how they affect others. He had to confront his captors and overcome the situation on his own to grow into a better ruler of the Dreaming.”

You swallowed your bitterness. "So you're saying that this was supposed to happen? That he brought it upon himself and therefore deserved a century of emotional torment?”

A gust of wind blew through her hair, but she didn't even flinch when a curly lock fell in front of her eye. She continued to look ahead as she spoke. "Dream could have summoned me. He was given a choice, and he didn't take it.”

This made you think. If Morpheus truly had the chance to be released early, why did he choose to stay in captivity for all those years? He remained trapped in that cage without a word of complaint, despite the pain consuming him inside, all because of that one missed opportunity.

Was it really just pride that kept him there?

However, you understood all too well what it meant to feel helpless and always afraid of burdening those you cared about. As a mere mortal, you struggled to accept that you could hardly succeed on your own, so you couldn't blame Morpheus for holding onto his ego. Being powerless and unable to escape his predicament must have been unbearable for a creature like him. All Dream wanted was a straightforward offer from Death, which explained the disappointment you had seen plastered onto his face.

Sometimes, all we need is a caring gesture from someone we love, even when our answer is no.

"Would you have set him free if he had asked?”

She seemed to consider your question carefully, but ultimately chose not to answer. "You didn't know him before. You only see him for who he has become as a result of that incident.”

You gradually decreased the pace of your strides, and when you came to a standstilll, she turned and regarded you with a questioning expression.

"They killed his raven and stripped him of everything he had. The ruby, the helm, even his clothes were taken and thrown away. I don't know who Dream of the Endless was a century ago, but how is any of this justified?" you asked.

Her smile grew even wider at your passionate response, and it seemed as though the sun itself had become brighter because of it.

How ironic.

"If he hadn't taken my place that day, we wouldn't be having this conversation. If you could change the course of events, would you rather not have met Dream?”

You stood in silence, fighting to gather the correct response to give and conceding that she was in fact correct. If those particular conditions had not led you to cross paths with Morpheus, you probably wouldn’t have met the person who was bringing so much love to your existence. It pained you to realize that you would willingly choose to stay in the present reality, regardless of the implications, even if you were given the choice to shift to a separate timeline where he was not a component of your existence.

“This is so messed up,” you muttered.

Death softly squeezed your shoulders in a gesture of comfort, her eyes glistening in the sunlight. She already knew what her brother’s answer would be, and so she left him behind when he needed her the most. Their family was more complicated than you could imagine, with regulations and dynamics that were foreign to you and the world you inhabited. It was unfair to criticize their lack of intervention when you didn’t really know the depths of their connection. The only thing you could do was adjust to their nature based on what it was.

You took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be indiscreet."

Her expression softened. "You were not. You're sweet."

Instead of harboring resentment for something that nobody could control, you realized that there was a very important reason for you to appreciate her.

"You didn't take my father when I thought I was about to lose him. I should be thanking you, not cast judgement," you said.

You could see the kindness and empathy in her eyes, with no resentment present. "It wasn't his time. It won't be for a while," she reassured you.

Hearing those words from her put your heart at ease, as you still had that nagging worry lingering in the back of your mind.

Guided by your emotions yet again, you were unable to resist the impulse and surprised the Endless in front of you with a shy and hesitant embrace. But as soon as your hands pressed against her back, you no longer had a single afterthought.

Death's scent was distinct from Dream's but equally pleasant and grounding. Her hair and skin emanated a mix of jasmine flowers, smoldering swathes of woody incense, pink lotus, and saffron. She surrounded you with her enigmatic veil of mystery, but at the same time, her sweet and caring nature was warm and fulfilling.

The woman hummed in appreciation against your hair, combing through it as a caring older sister would.

"Am I signing my death sentence with this?" You asked her.

She laughed heartily at your question. "It doesn't work that way. And this actually feels nice.”

She didn't even attempt to extricate herself from your arms. She allowed you to keep her close, as if she required that form of affection more than you did.

You reckoned that Dream's role was tremendously difficult, being entrusted with preserving the delicate balance between humanity and his realm. Death's job was undoubtedly arduous too, guiding human souls to what Morpheus called The Sunless Lands. What would have occured if she was imprisoned instead? What would a world without people able to die be like?

There was something in the way she stroked your hair and rubbed your back. Everyone assumed that the Grim Reaper was a merciless being, marching through existense with a fearsome scythe and a black shroud covering its head. They didn’t know how elegant, uplifting, affectionate and empathetic the real entity was.

When you let go of her, the expression on her face was gracious and accomplished. As the pair of you resumed your stroll under the trees, Death draped her arm around your shoulder like an old friend.

You were uncertain whether she wanted to meet the woman who showed great interest in her brother or merely intended to confirm that you were trustworthy. Regardless of her reasoning, you discerned that your unexpected encounter with her was having a beneficial effect on you, despite its rough beginning.

You continued walking side by side as if it were the most normal thing in the world, until a sudden scream made you both freeze in your tracks. It reverberated throughout the park like a strangled cry, gathering a multitude of people in the vicinity. A girl was calling out a name, pleading and choking in desperation.

Death's face became somber as she looked at the scene. She assessed it in silence, but somehow, she didn't require any explanation for what was going on.

"I have to go. I can't miss this one.”

The wind gusted once more, enveloping you in a rotation of leaves that rose from the ground. She turned towards you for the last time, and with a tender caress of your elbow that was equally affectionate and apologetic, she bid you farewell.

"I'm glad I could meet you, Y/N."

You remained still, nodding, and feeling your heart pump more forcefully. "I’m glad too. Can you tell me your name?"

In spite of anticipating denial of your request, she sent off another smile and moved backward a few paces without taking her eyes off you. “You can call me Teleute, it you desire.”

Teleute. The name which had been used to portray Grandmother Death in the ancient Greek culture. Everything made sense in the framework of history and mythology.

She turned on her heels, walking away with her hands in her pockets. Within a brief moment of diversion to pay attention to the crowd that continued to increase in size, you completely lost sight of Teleute. She had disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if she was never there. Ethereal like the swiftest of avians, the most graceful angel.

You were spurred by a combination of curiosity and uneasiness to move forward. The girl was still crying and calling out for someone who was lying motionless in her lap. As you approached, you worked through the crowd of people who were standing there in shock. You spotted an unmoving man with his eyes half-open, his body stiff like a lifeless dummy, and his complexion gradually becoming ash-grey. His partner shook him repeatedly, searching for a vital sign.

"Robert! Please wake up, please!”

The pain in her tone was excruciating. causing your stomach to tighten and shudder with each utterance of the man’s name. A friend was trying to take her away, pulling her by the arms in a futile attempt to let her leave the body behind.

The man she loved was gone forever.

“No, no! He can’t! We were supposed to get married next week!”

“Linda, please… get away from him, there’s nothing you can do...”

“No!!!”

The ambulance arrived with a loud siren, and three paramedics ran to the body with a stretcher and defibrillator ready in their hands. You heard the sound of fluttering wings at your side, but when you pivoted to look at the origin, nothing was there. All you could see was the group of onlookers surrounding the pair and the expanse of green behind them.

The defibrillator wasn't working. The man's chest lifted and expanded with each electric impulse, but you didn't need to stay to see the outcome because you already knew it; Death had just taken him and he couldn’t come back.

Fighting to overcome the lump caught in your throat, you left the crowd and walked as far away as you could from that tragedy. Watery drops emerged at the corners of your eyes and dripped down, one hand pressed against your mouth to contain the sobs that erupted within you.

Two days later, you had agreed to spend some time with Hob, sharing the occurences that took place in your lives while working on your separate undertakings. The sun’s rays were shining gloriously in the azure sky, showering the idyllic views with a gentle beam. You could feel the breeze tousling your hair as you made your way to the modern tavern, the overgrown grass tickling the skin of your legs. The summer dress and half-sleeved viscose shirt that you selected for the occasion were soft and comfortable on you.

Upon entering the New Inn, your eyes quickly searched for Hob's usual spot. You saw your friend already seated at the table, clad in a stylish brown jacket over a white t-shirt. After greeting the enthusiastic waitress, you walked over to join him.

As you made your way past the other customers, you didn't initially notice that Hob wasn't alone. Someone was sitting across from him, and they appeared to be having an engaging conversation that caused him to display a genuine smile. Seeing Hob in such a relaxed and carefree state was a rare sight; he was frequently on edge, eager to reconcile with that old friend of his.

You immediatly wondered if the individual in front of Hob was actually him.

The man was wearing a knee-length black coat better suited for winter, and had dark hair that looked eerily familiar even from behind. The similarity was so striking that you decelerated as you moved closer to the table with your heart racing faster, incapable of making a sound and announce your arrival.

You could recognize those short, adorable, untended strands anywhere. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he remained turned away from you until you reached a distance that allowed you to be spotted.

Seeing you, Hob's expression immediately brightened. "Y/N!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember that old friend I've been telling you about? Let me introduce him to you.”

Hearing your name, the other man instantly swivelled towards you, meeting your gaze with his beautiful blue eyes. A flood of feelings engulfed you and it couldn’t be kept at bay as you looked at Morpheus’ features, struck by his exceptional appearence. He radiated an aura that could have made anyone fall to their knees in admiration.

Your face flared red with the notion that you had looked at him for too long. "It's you," you said, your tone coming off as more relieved than you intended.

Hearing your words, Hob looked back and forth between the two of you in disbelief. "Wait, do you two know each other?”

You finally diverted your attention back to your friend, giving him an affermative nod. "We do, actually."

"Bloody hell, what a small world!"

When the calmness returned to you, a strong epiphany surfaced. Morpheus was imprisoned in 1916, and according to Hob, they eventually experienced an abrupt separation, whereupon the Endless didn’t show up to their designated meetings any longer. This meant that Hob was substantially older than he had previously claimed, owing to the fact that Morpheus remained locked in that cage for more than a hundred years.

How many more astonishing truths were you about to discover? Hob had several explainations to give, but you decided to leave them for another time if you wished to keep the atmosphere untouched.

You weren't the only one making discoveries that day. Hob didn’t fail to perceive the way you looked at Morpheus, and he smugly raised an eyebrow with a devilish grin that held a lot of secret promises for later.

Afterward, Hob gestured for you to join them, pointing at an empty chair nearby.

While you were strongly enticed to snuggle with Morpheus, you chose to give them some required space to have a heart-to-heart talk on their own without your interference.

A little disappointed, but still compassionate and pleased for their reconciliation, you kindly declined his invitation with a smile. "It's all right, you two must have a lot to talk about. I’ll just sit over there and work."

You gestured towards an empty table next to the window, but Hob's expression quickly changed to one of guilt for the unforeseen change of plans.

"Are you sure? I invited you out, it's not fair to make you sit on your own, is it," he said, looking at you with concern.

You gave yet another nod. "Positive."

You looked at Moprheus who didn’t utter a single sentence, but you detected his subtle smile while he gazed at you from his seat. You gave his shoulder a light squeeze as a demonstration of affection, though maintaining secrecy. Your fingertips gently glided along his sleeve as you stepped back.

You got settled in, requested a cup of tea and retrieved your tools to initiate your work alone. Your attendance was not necessary during that time as Hob and Morpheus had a lot of things to catch up on. However, being close to the one you adored and had been waiting for, yet remaining temporarily out of reach, made it challenging for you to keep your focus.

You inhaled deeply, plugged in your laptop and let your hand drift unrestricted across the pages of your sketchbook.

A few minutes later, you were completely immersed in your own realm of creativity.

"I saw that," Hob spoke, his countenance exuding approval as he regarded Morpheus.

The Endless decided to feign ignorance. "What did you see?" he asked.

"The glim in your eyes. The way you looked at her says it all, my friend. You like her!"

Morpheus became rigid, reclining back in his seat and directing his eyes downward, maintaining silence.

"Who would have thought that after all this time I've known you, I would finally see you in love?"

In the past, Dream of The Endless would have denied Hob's assertion with unruffled temper yet seething rage, storming out of the inn to digest his private humiliation. This time, Morpheus involuntarily shifted his gaze towards you, silently admitting to the truth. The radiance of the sun illuminated your profile, and he couldn't refrain from taking note of it due to its ethereal appearance.

Hob's smile was kind. "She's a great woman, you know. Seriously, the most incredible human being I have encountered in this century. She works tirelessly to achieve her goals, and she's both intelligent and compassionate. You won't easily find someone like her in the next era.”

Although he was still in the process of comprehending your nature, to Morpheus, that wasn't difficult to believe

"Don't break her heart," Hob suddenly warned, catching him off guard and immediately drawing his attention back to his serious face.

"I know you're not a bad guy, and surely you don't need me to tell you what to do. But I care about that girl over there like family, and she's been through enough hardship to deal with more complications.”

While Morpheus was aware that Hob could decipher him with ease, he continued to keep the same calm demeanor in order to conceal his sentiments. He was not inclined to let them be made obvious or to exhibit his softer side, even to his friend.

Hob’s voice was filled with determination. "I would go to hell and back just to ensure she can be happy."

With a minor lift of his eyebrow and the edge of his lips, Morpheus replied, "That is quite admirable.”

Hob took another sip of his beer, his shoulders raising and lowering in a quick shrug. "Judging by what she told me about this 'mysterious guy she's been seeing lately,' it's clear that she really cares about you. Honestly, I believe I've never seen her care so much about any other lad before. They were all a bunch of idiots, but still.”

His eyes remained nonchalant and blank, but the usual slight bob of Morpheus's Adam’s apple definitely gave his feelings away. "So she did talk about me, then?" he asked, sounding flat but curious.

"Aye, but she was very reserved about it. I didn't get any clue that it was you, of all people, " Hob straightened from the comfortable wall sofa and directed his look towards you. He showed a smile of great pride at the sight of your hand gliding effortlessly across the page of your sketchbook without a single interruption.

Morpheus felt the urge to watch you from a distance, examining your actions and admiring the absolutely adorable way with which you seemed to bite your lower lip while tracing your pencil along the page.

The Endless was eagerly looking forward to meeting you in your dreams that night, yearning for the occasion after his extended absence to fully restore his kingdom. Morpheus wasn't expecting to meet you in the Waking World before the scheduled time, let alone find out that you and his old friend would share a special bond as well.

Eventually, the conversation with Hob took a different turn, yet Morpheus found his mind constantly drifting back to you.

You lost track of time again as you drew. It could have been an hour - maybe even two.

You observed that Morpheus was still deep in conversation with your best friend, seemingly frozen in the same position as when you first spotted him. Despite his composed and dignified demeanor, his discomfort around humans was evident from the way he watched people warily out of the corner of his eye and stiffened his shoulders when others came too close.

It was understandable, given that those who were supposed to admire him had instead ensnared him and exploited his possessions.

You closed your sketchbook and began scrolling through your emails, deleting any messages that didn't seem important without even opening them. Doing so, you almost missed an email from the CEO of a company you had reached out to in hopes of finding a job. Despite them not currently accepting new applicants, the man took the time to send you a polite response, wishing you good fortune for the future. Though it wasn't exactly what you were hoping to see, the kind and encouraging words still managed to brighten your mood.

Hob rose from the couch, stretching his neck before turning to say a few last words to Morpheus. As he approached you, a beaming smile lit up his face, though he was clearly remorseful about not being able to spend more time with you. Nevertheless, he seemed content and at ease, a state you hadn't seen him in for some time. With everything now resolved between him and his friend, the last thing you wanted was for him to apologize for something that you didn’t perceive as a lack of attention at all.

You knew there was a long conversation and explanation waiting for the two of you, but for the moment, you simply watched as he strode out of the pub and vanished into the trees beyond. You couldn't help but wonder which century he had originally come from, but given his extensive knowledge of history, it was impossible to pinpoint his specific era of birth.

Reflecting on it, you were feeling a bit daunted by the sheer number of changes and developments he had witnessed in the world, as well as deeply saddened by the loved ones he had lost and left behind. It now made sense why he had always been reticent to discuss his family history, clearly it was a delicate topic for him.

You shut down your laptop and put away your belongings. When you looked up, you noticed that Morpheus was silently and intently watching you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. When he came closer to your table, you realized that his attire was reminiscent of what he wore in the Dreaming - all black and enigmatic - but tailored to fit the style of the Waking World. The fabric was structured and gave him a modern look, while still retaining his signature mysterious edge.

“Hello.”

His low voice was like a vibration, a resonant melody deliciously flowing through your bloodstream. When you stood up and got inches away from his face, you had to keep yourself grounded and resist the urge to kiss him on the lips in front of the other customers (and the waitress, who was already glancing at you with piqued curiosity).

The immediate attraction was undeniable, stirring something in you that was definitely not appropriate for public display.

Hey you," you replied with a smile. "It's good to see you." "I've missed you," you were tempted to say, but the words caught in your throat and you couldn't bring yourself to say them.

"Are you busy at the moment? Do you need to leave?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I can stay, for now," he replied.

Your heart fluttered with excitement, producing a series of backflips in your chest. "Would you like to take a walk with me then?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

Your request may have been simple, but it seemed to work in your favor.

"With pleasure.”

The sensation you felt was spine-chilling, causing your skin to prickle and making your hair stand on end. The genuine and happy smile that you gave him caused the corners of your mouth to pull up painfully, but you allowed your emotions to show without restraint. Walking on air, you paid for your tea and bounced out of the inn.

You sensed Morpheus following silently behind you, his cryptic expression giving him an air of caution. He stood tall and firm, his eyes narrowing occasionally as he observed his surroundings. The warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze enveloped you, while the distant sound of car horns and the chatter of passersby filled the air.

As you stepped away from the entrance to let a few more people inside, his hand lightly brushed against your upper back for support. The contact left a tingling sensation across your covered skin the moment he withdrew it. Clearing your throat, you tried to shift your focus to a new topic, hoping to distract yourself from how much you longed for more of his touch.

Thankfully, you had just the right thing to break the tension. "So, Hob Gadling? I had no idea that you were the old friend he was waiting for,” you remarked.

Morpheus looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Nor did I know that the two of you were close.”

"He's like a brother to me, really," you explained. "But I never would have guessed that he was, like, super bicentenarian or something.”

"We first met in 1389," Morpheus revealed.

And so you stopped in your tracks, unable to wrap your head around what he just told you. "Wait what? You're kidding, right?"

"I assure you, I am not.”

Your mind boggle at the thought. "But that was over 600 years ago!"

Morpheus seemed amused by your astonishment. "You look quite shocked,” he observed.

"I'm practically a baby compared to him," you admitted. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to live for so long.”

Morpheus studied you thoughtfully as you walked together, considering what he was allowed to reveal. "I must admit, Hob Gadling has proven to be remarkably persistent.”

“Persistent? You mean he actually had a choice?”

Morpheus nodded. “He did. And, he still does.”

When you turned the corner of the street, Morpheus slowed his already leisurely pace and glanced at the building to your right. It was a large complex that had been standing for centuries, refurbished into a more modern-looking bar around 1989. Throughout all the changes it went through, its original name, White Horse, and location remained perfectly intact.

The tavern had been visited by many notable figures, including William Shakespeare himself. It was one of those timeless landmarks steeped in history and wonder that had been passed down through the generations until it was eventually sold. Now, it looked more like a disquieting construction site, with all the windows covered in scribbles and the old, decaying roof under repair for an indefinite amount of time.

According to Hob, the New Inn had been founded as a replacement for those who had fought to keep the old tavern running.

"It all started here," Morpheus said.

You looked at the dilapidated structure, trying to imagine what it may have looked like in medieval times, but found it difficult to picture Hob in anything other than his usual fashionable attire (or Dream with a different hairstyle).

"How?" you asked curiously.

"I was intrigued by his...experience," Morpheus replied. "I wanted to know how long a mortal creature could crave such a long life, convinced that he would beg for death within a century.”

You were captivated, a grin spreading across your face. "And?”

"Even after 300 years, when I found him in misery and starving for food, he still claimed to have much to live for."

You burst into a loud, genuine, joyful laugh that echoed throughout the area. Holding onto his coat, you doubled over, unable to contain your exuberant reaction. Your belly was hurting and you could barely breathe as your laughter didn't cease.

"What?" He asked you, furrowing his brows in confusion.

As you tried to recover from your guffaw, you literally convulsed with tears forming at the corner of your eyes. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your forehead against his chest, subconsciously clinging to him.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," you said, wiping a tear from your eye. "That just sounds like him. It's hilarious!”

You continued to shake like a bowlful of jelly, breathing in and out a few times to regain your composure.

"If you find it amusing, you shall ask him to share more of his adventurous tales with you,” he suggested.

You let out a contented sigh. "I think I will.”

Your eyes met again, and the intensity of his gaze immediately captured your attention. Despite his outward stoicism, his expression seemed more relaxed than it had been at the inn. The mischievous, subtle smile you were becoming accustomed to only confirmed that he was enjoying your spontaneous hilarity.

You looked down at the metallic barricades, where someone had sprayed the words "The New Inn" in red with a long arrow pointing in its direction.

“Hob did it, didn’t he? For you. So that you could find him,” you concluded.

“He did.”

Despite the fact that 133 years had passed since that renowned argument, their connection had survived unscathed, filling you with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't know what your fight was about, but he's been remorseful about it for a long time.”

Morpheus continued to pierce you with his stare, pouting slightly at the recalled memory.

"He cares deeply for you,” you added.

His gaze returned to the building, and his eyes narrowed with an inscrutable, impassive look. He didn't respond right away, simply staring off ahead as a few seconds went by.

"He is a good man, despite what he may or may not say. One who speaks very highly of you."

You were stupefied, tilting your head quizzically. “You… talked about me…? After more than a century apart?”

"I suppose you had a certain influence on him," He answered cryptically.

You offered Morpheus a kind smile. "I doubt that I had any influence on him. You, however, have undoubtedly made him a better person, according to his own words.”

Their friendship had begun as a challenge - a game, if you may - devised to test Hob's endurance as an immortal among humans. A mere curiosity that gradually deepened into something more meaningful. Over time, Morpheus came to regard Hob not just as a subject of study, but as a true friend that he valued despite his usual aloofness.

You found yourself adjusting the collar of his coat, feeling the stout, yet very yielding and plush fabric against your fingers. Once satisfied, you gave the front of his shoulders a gentle pat and wrapped your arm around his, holding him loosely but tenderly.

Morpheus was unruffled, but his unwavering gaze on you made you feel somewhat self-conscious. At one point, he even seemed to anticipate something as he moved his eyes downward until they rested on your lips momentarily.

Although you were in close proximity and a small push from you would have been enough, you decided to respect his reservedness when people started passing by on the street. Therefore, you resumed your trek, leaving the antique tavern behind and reaching the park in the distance.

A great number of individuals of diverse ages were appreciating the weather that day. Elders were stationed on the benches with their eyes shut, couples relaxing on a large sheet for their impromptu picnic, adolescents engaging in football on the grass and children running about in circles.

“Do you see these people? Have you ever appeared in their dreams or interacted with them?” You inquired.

“I do not always interact with dreamers. When they rest, my realm mirrors their waking lives, their wishes or their fears. Only when they seek guidance or require advice, I might grant them my aid,” Morpheus said.

And there you were, walking alongside the King of Dreams, whether it be in the Waking World or the land of dreams. Maybe you did possess a unique consideration from him, after all.

You looked at all the carefree activities in the vastness of the park. "It's strange. I never thought about it, but I now realize that what you Endless do is essential for this world. It seems like nobody is aware of that, or if they are, they don't show you the gratitude that you deserve.”

Morpheus halted along the way, fixating on your eyes anew. When you turned in his direction, your countenance was overflowing with sadness and compassion. "Every person we see right now has a dream that propels them through life. They receive inspiration, ideas, and realizations from you, but they don’t even know that the source of it all is standing right here in front of them.”

“Humans forget in waking hours,” he noted. “It is not my purpose to make them remember me.”

You disagreed, shaking your head. "Even so, this world wouldn't even function without you and the rest of your family. It's incredible how nobody acknowledges what's truly happening behind the scenes.”

Morpheus appeared to give your statement a moment of contemplation. “I am the personification of ideas and concepts that are tied to life. I do not wish for mortals to acknowledge me.”

You pondered his utterances, and the only thing you were capable of doing was to accept his reasoning. You smiled, caressing his chin with the pad of your thumb and forefinger. "Then I hope you at least accept my praise, Dream of the Endless.”

As you pulled back, Morpheus tracked your hand’s movement to understand your actions. He portrayed a grin with a certain trace of self-satisfaction on his face. “Very well.”

You examined him with utter amazement, feeling as if you were standing before a lifelong hero. In a sense, that was indeed the truth.

A group of teenagers assembled in the vicinity, talking and chortling noisily as they advanced. When a young girl walked past Morpheus, you quickly noticed his awkwardness and out-of-placeness amidst such a jolly atmosphere. The girl promptly retreated when she noticed his darkened face, dragging her friend along and whispering to her in concern. Observing her troubled response, Morpheus turned away and stared at the ground.

You proceeded to move forward, slowly bringing your lips to his cheek and delivering a brief, tender, and affectionate peck on it. He exhibited a look of surprise and confusion the moment you broke the kiss, but you maintained your sweet smile in his direction.

“Look,” you gestured, turning your head slightly to check on the two girls.

As if by magic, the pair of youngsters were now grinning at the two of you, giggling with delight and hurrying along with the rest of the bunch. They went from terrified to appreciative in an instant, relishing your sudden display of affection and forgetting the momentary tension they felt.

You clasped his hand and tugged upon it. "It’s interesting how easily our perception can change, isn’t it?”

And thus, Morpheus understood that you had done it exclusively for his sake, in order for him to cease feeling like he would not fit in, like no matter what he did, the humans would consistently be alarmed by his presence.

You felt a sense of contentment and fulfillment, repositioning yourself at his side and walking forward with your hand firmly clasped in his grip, which Morpheus didn’t object to. He permitted you to retain your fingers around his, accompanying you to whichever place you wanted to go.

On the path leading to your apartment building, you disclosed about your interaction with Teleute. You presumed that he was aware of it, but it turned out that his sister had not informed him about that matter in any way. Fortunately, Morpheus didn’t express any sign of dissatisfaction or annoyance in relation to that revelation. Since he had lived close to his family for a span of billions of years, he obviously knew Death well enough to understand her inclinations and motivations.

You definitely had nothing to hide, and he listened to you extolling her mildness and empathetic gestures.

It became obvious to you that she was the one he cherished the most amongst his other siblings. It seemed like they held a particularly strong bond that, regardless of the unfavorable occurences resulting from Roderick Burgess, caused them to continue believing in one another’s loyalty.

Nevertheless, Morpheus was still reluctant to reveal any significant information about his family, so you decided to stop pressing upon the topic and continued walking along the sidewalk.

Eventually, you arrived at your building with an immense sadness growing inside you, knowing that you had to part ways with Morpheus. Your fingers slowly unfastened from his hand, and a chasm formed in the pit of your stomach.

You smiled at him, trying to conceal your increasing disappointment. He didn’t speak, continuing to cast his sharp gaze upon you. He put his hands back into his pockets and awaited for you to say anything.

As you thought to yourself, "Don't go" and "Please stay with me", you desperately wished to spend more time in his company. But given your past mistakes that led your previous partners to consider you overly clingy, you ultimately let those sentiments go.

“Thank you for indulging me,” you said. “I hope I didn’t keep you from your responsibilies for too long.”

“No,” he replied, his voce low and deep. “I owed you as much.”

You frowned. “You don’t owe me anything, Morpheus.”

He attempted to reply, opening his mouth, but quickly closed it, unable to vocalize whatever thought he wanted to share.

When he remained silent, you adjusted the bag on your shoulder and firmly wrapped your hand around the strap. Your mind was in chaos, torn between your emotions and reason, leaving you uncertain about what action to take next. A single kiss couldn’t be the end the world, and it’s not like you’d never done it before. You continued to persuade yourself that it wouldn't be harmful in any conceivable way, but the more you tried to convince yourself, the less you wanted to take the risk.

And so, you permitted yourself to only touch his elbow, giving it a light squeeze. "See you in my dreams?" you asked him.

Morpheus assented with his head. "I will see you in the Dreaming."

You stepped back, turning on your heels and retrieving the keys from your bag. As you flipped open the lock of the main entrance, you glanced back to where he had been standing, but in the blink of an eye, he had vanished, nowhere to be seen in the alleyway before you.

As you made your way from the lobby to the elevator and your dwelling, you scolded yourself repeatedly for missing the opportunity and allowing your past to hinder you once again, despite having declared that it was long gone. You were not supposed to feel afraid of sharing a kiss with the one you loved, especially after spending a night together engaging in deep and passionate lovemaking. In the Dreaming, he was the one who initiated the contact, capturing your lips in that sweet, electrifying kiss that you didn't openly ask for.

Things were different for him in the Waking World, however, whether it was due to the traumatic ordeal he endured or because it was a place in which he felt like he didn’t belong. Morpheus was not a human being; rather, he was an entity of extraordinary might and prominence. Was it really feasible to be yourself beside him without holding back your feelings?

As you shut the door, a heartbroken sigh slipped out of you. You tossed the keys on the tabletop, let your bag slide to the couch, kicked off your high heeled sandals, and stripped off your shirt, only remaining with your sleeveless dress on.

You almost made it to your bedroom in a nervous stride, but suddenly halted. Your mouth fell open, and your eyes widened as soon as you noticed Morpheus standing in the parlor area, watching you with a pair of eager and yearning eyes.

In that fleeting moment, your determination to subdue your fondness for him disintegrated from your consciousness. That glimpse in his eyes was irrefutable; he desired you as ardently as you needed to feel him against you.

No words or spoken affirmations were necessary. He kept looking at you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat, barely blinking as he stood still, waiting for your move with anticipation.

That was the indicator you were looking for. Throwing away all your reservations, you dashed towards him without thinking it over, seizing his face with your hands. You pressed your lips onto his and kissed him, feasting on the taste of his mouth with an intensity that surprised even you. It felt like the only thing that mattered, as if you needed those lips to breathe.

Morpheus instantly moved his hands out of his jacket and took hold of your midriff, pushing his palms against the small of your back as he kissed you with equal passion. His tongue shot forward and encountered yours whilst you lifted your feet to deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You pulled away to catch your breath, panting and quivering, but still clinging to him tightly. “You came back,” you whispered.

“I never left.”

You chuckled in delight, once more locking your lips with his.

“You did not ask me to stay,” he noted. “Why? Is it not what you wished?”

Of course he would notice.

Your lower lip sank under the light pressure of your teeth. “It is. I just… I didn’t know how to ask.”

He smiled. “Have no fear, my love. I will not leave your wishes unattended.”

My love…?

Those words caused your heart to leap in your chest, as it was a lovely way of addressing you that nobody had ever used before.

"I don't want you to fulfill my needs at the expense of your own, though,” you stated.

“Do you truly believe that I do not want this just as much?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then allow me to prove it to you.”

You became soft and pliable in his embrace as he kissed you again, enveloping you in a hazy and semi-bewitched state with his delicious fragrance.

Unlike the cologne that your previous partners favored, his scent was a subtle aroma that didn't fill your lungs to the brim, but was just enough to make you feel like you were surrounded by a welcoming oasis.

As you continued your make-out session, you gradually pushed him towards your bedroom. Morpheus silently followed your lead, kissing your neck and moving to your collarbones. Once you arrived at the bed, you sat down in front of him, causing the edge of your dress to slide up and reveal a peek of your thighs. It didn't take long for him to climb onto the mattress and press against you, positioning himself between your legs. His cold fingertips caressed the line of your leg, starting from the area around the knee and ending at the upper region of your thigh. It wriggled under the cotton material of the skirt to hoist it higher, gripping your skin and making you jolt.

Normally, you would take your time, letting your sensations grow with his touches, kisses, and pleasurable foreplay. But this time, your desire for him was so strong that you couldn't wait any longer. You immediately brought your hands to the button of his pants, eager to get to the point.

But before you could undo it, Morpheus caught your wrist and pulled both of your hands up beside your head. His grip was firm as he held you down on the mattress. Your faces were very close, and you could feel his breath tickling your mouth as he gazed down at you with a fiery look.

You made a small effort to keep your breathing in control.

“What is it that you want?” He uttered softly, his tongue just barely touching your lips. “Speak clearly, and I shall satisfy your needs.”

Your heart pounded rapidly, and your mind grew clouded with a steadily escalating craving.

“Morpheus… please….I beg of you…” you entreated with a quavering voice, your request filled with an air of desperation and longing.

“No.”

“I-”

“You must say it out loud.”

You let out a small mewl when you felt his hips push forward, the hardness in his pants already evident and wanting.

"Morpheus…" you pleaded.

"Say it," he demanded.

“You!”

“Oh?”

You gasped hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him as he held you in place, pressing himself against your body.

“I want you. I need you, please.”

A faint smirk appeared at the corners of his lips, conveying a small amount of triumph. “You need me? How?”

What a mischievous, teasing, and absolutely gorgeous creature.

‘Two can play at this game’.

You smiled, raising one of your legs and looping it around his waist. You pulled him even closer against your core, much like a python coiling around its prey.

You were pleased to hear the low, throaty groan that escaped him.

"Do you seriously need me to spell it out?" you teased. “You know what I want, Dream Lord.”

His sister had described him as the most prideful member of their family. According to Teleute, he was so proud that he wouldn't have even accepted her help if she had offered it at the right time. And yet, your challenging attitude was clearly amusing him to a noticeable extent.

"I will give you that, and more," he promised, his voice filled with lust and eagerness.

He removed his hands from your wrists, trailing them along your arms and closing around your breasts. Even through the fabric of your bra and dress, you could feel the way he squeezed them, causing your back to arch.

It was so little and yet too much, your inner walls clenching irrepressibly. You couldn't stop looking at the clear protuberance in his trousers, urging you to be set free. So you tried again, rapidly reaching for the button to unfasten and the zipper to pull down. A moment later, he was grasping your buttocks from under the dress and angling you exactly how he wanted, pulling his erection out and hooking his index finger under your panties. Slowly, as if he was unwrapping the most awaited gift of time, he moved your damp undergarment aside and revealed your glistening entrance. He swallowed hard at the sight.

He pushed himself inside of you in one swift motion. The entry was rough, but he managed to slide in without any resistance, making you gasp and moan as his tip hit the perfect spot inside you. You wrapped your limbs around him as he delivered strong thrusts with his impetuous pelvis, moving in and out and increasing his tempo. He fixated his hungry eyes on your face, driven by his growing need to make you come undone.

Even though the both of you were practically fully clothed, you found the scene absurdly arousing. That coat looked absolutely wonderful on him, and you loved the way his shirt rubbed against your clit, creating the perfect friction you needed to let loose. Morpheus emitted deep, rich grunts as your walls tightly enveloped his length, providing a heightened sensation of suction and pressure. Your room was filled with the sounds of sex, as skin met skin and your bodies moved together.

Just like the first time, you latched onto the back of his hair with your hands, grasping a sizeable portion of his strands without pulling, but maintaining a stable position. You continued to whine and sigh, matching his rhythm and responding to the kisses he delivered.

"The sounds you make are marvelous," he expressed, a small grin emerging at the corners of his lips.

“What can I say?” you replied with labored breaths, still reeling from the impact of the intimate and heated encounter. “You are just that good.”

With so many centuries of experience, he must have had countless lovers in the past. This made you feel a bit envious and possessive.

Morpheus was relentless, sliding in and out of you with incredible stamina. You could feel your orgasm approaching, ready to ignite a powerful firework. As he felt you tightening around him, he slowed his pace. His fingers left your thigh and moved directly to your clit, brushing it with gentle and light strokes.

You gasped at the pleasure it caused, throwing your head back as he continued to circle the small tip with his index and middle fingers. He wasn't even applying that much pressure, but the sweet stimulation combined with his girth meeting your G-spot was absolute heaven, even if it was torturous.

You were so close now. A part of you wanted the experience to carry on for hours, but the urge to feel that exquisite sensation was becoming impossible to control and withstand.

"Please, harder," you muttered.

Morpheus complied with your request, delivering precisely what you were asking him to provide. His hips pushed forward, then almost fully out, and in again to the base. As you adjusted to his thrusts, you felt your muscles tensing from the effort involved, but you didn't plan to stop. You consistently met him halfway, tightly gripping his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

His fingers maintained their position on your clit, pinching and massaging it deliciously. Your moans grew louder, and you chanted his name like a prayer.

You came with a convulsing jerk of your hips, pulsing around him as his erratic movements urged him to reach completion and follow you to your high. Your orgasm was earth-shattering, draining you all of your strenght as it coursed throughout your entire body like a massive explosion. Your legs were trembling and tingling, while your chest and cheeks turned into a scarlet and blazing mess from the waves of heat.

It only took a couple more thrusts for him to reach his peak, groaning and stiffening as he released his essence into your depths.

It was hot, grounding, and fulfilling. It was something significant that went beyond the mere physical satisfaction. To you, it was a way to fortify the connection you had established with Morpheus, the outcome of the deep affection that was continuously expanding inside your being.

You took shallow and short breaths, taking a moment to appreciate his expression above you through your hazy state. He was throughly satisfied, gently pressing his lips against yours to prolong the moment of bliss.

As your nails scratched the back of his head, gently intertwining with his short strands, you let out a contented sigh. Your legs weakened at his sides as he pulled out, and your underwear snapped back into place.

“I must return to the Dreaming,” he voiced softly, barely above a whisper.

You signaled your acknowledgment with a slight nod of your head. “Sorry for keeping you here.”

“I was not kept here, my love. I chose to stay,” he clarified, carrying an affectionate tone towards you and an air of assurance.

You genuinely beamed, grasping his head with your hands once more and delivering a quick yet vehement peck on his mouth.

"Thank you for staying, then. And for healing my scars. Oh, and for the shell too,” you told him, emphasizing your words with a look of gentleness and gratitude.

Morpheus’ expression depicted complacency. “The Dreaming will always be there to welcome you, just as I will.”

You breathed out in a relaxed fashion. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Why should I not?”

When you attempted to steer clear from falling too deep into your usual overthinking, your smile slowly started to diminish.

“For a number of reasons,” you stated, the self-depreciating words falling out of your lips with an air of bitterness and pessimism. “Maybe one day you’ll get tired of me and leave me. I’m not deserving of having you in my life.”

In an instant, his face also changed, brows knitting together as he looked down at you. “Y/N, what-”

"Don’t mind me," you interjected. "My emotions tend to get all over the place. I didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

“You did not.”

You felt uncertain concerning the underlying cause for your sudden outburst. Perhaps it was the fear of not being enough for any committed kind of relationship. Or maybe you were scared of the notion of seeing your happiness destroyed again, despite your intuition telling you to proceed forth without hesitation.

Unlike before.

A faint chuckle escaped your throat as you tilted your head upward and kissed him one more time, maintaining an innocent and reserved touch. Your eyes were gleaming with a mixture of sorrow and joy, but you refused to be overtaken by your negative thoughts.

With a playful tap, you pushed his chest lightly. "You should go now, or I won't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Morpheus grasped your arm and hauled you up with him, moving both of you away from the mattress and bringing you close.

The moment you stood on your feet, you could feel a few drops of his essence dripping down between your legs.

"That does sound quite tempting," he said. "But I cannot stay longer.”

“It’s all right,” you vocalized, a touch of sweetness creeping up in your voice. “See you soon?”

“Yes.”

He sealed that promise by applying a delicate and loving peck to your forehead. His hand slid off of yours and brushed against your skin, lingering on your fingertips before drawing away. You stepped back slightly, watching him carefully as he retrieved the pouch of sand from his coat. You waited patiently, your eyes fixed on his every move.

“Please say hi to Matthew for me.”

He nodded to your words, the golden powder immediatly encasing him, embracing and providing him the much needed comfort and warmth that he was accustomed to.

You stared at the sand slowly fading away, vanishing from your sight and leaving only some particles that sparkled around the room.

The sun had set below the horizon, and night had fallen over London. Ella Corbyn tapped her fingernails in an anxious manner on the top of her desk as she re-read the message on her phone, her eyes staring at the screen as she tried to process the unwelcome development.

She walked through the halls of her workplace, passing by the empty offices and stopping in front of the CEO's door. She knocked softly and entered, greeting her husband with a tired expression and a sense of exhaustion.

Oliver Corbyn remained at his workstation, taking a quick glance away from his monitor to check on his wife.

“Darling, are you okay?”

Ella sighed deeply, shook her head, and looked at him with concern all over her face. 'We have a problem.”

Oliver took off his spectacles and placed them carefully on the table. He then moved his chair back and said, 'I don't like the sound of that.”

As she considered the best way to reveal such disappointing news, Ella decided to simply reveal the truth as it was.

“It’s about Isaac. He left.”

Oliver reflected on his wife's words, blinking a couple of times. “What do you mean he left? I thought he was sick.”

Ella started scratching the back of her hand and a red patch began to emerge from the rough contact with her nails.

"Yes, well. It turns out that was just an excuse. He actually sent his resignation to my email an hour ago.”

Oliver's face turned ashen, and he quickly leaned against the edge of his desk for support. “And the reason?”

“Apparently, he decided to move abroad and live with his family in the US.”

He cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief and frustration. “I can’t believe this.”

Ella crossed her arms in front of her chest, adopting a firm stance to refrain from scratching her skin even more. 'What do we do now? We are officially without a fashion designer. We need to find a new one, and soon.'”

“I know.”

“The show is in three months. How are we supposed to make it?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Ella started to walk back and forth around the office, moving her legs in a repetitive motion. "Gosh, I can't stand this! Isaac was so good. Will we ever be able to replace him?”

Oliver was quiet, spacing out and absentmindly scratching his chin.

“Oliver?”

The man’s gaze widened abruptly. The sudden insight that struck upon him appeared to have a significant impact on his overall perspective.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on,” he muttered, lifting his index finger into the air as he expressed a sense of urgency.

Ella looked puzzled. “What?”

Oliver promptly ran back to his computer, rapidly typing some words on the keyboard and clicking around with the mouse. “Look.”

Ella stepped closer to his position, standing beside her spouse and shifting her emerald eyes down to the monitor.

"A few days ago, we received an application from this woman. Her portfolio was quite impressive, but with Isaac on our team, I thought we were covered. So I politely rejected her this morning.”

As Ella observed the numerous illustrations on the display, her eyes settled on the exceptional detail, accuracy and artistry that was put into every single piece, a style that was rather unique and captivating.

No one else was capable of producing such clean and mesmerizing drawings except one particular person.

“What’s her name?”

Oliver closed the PDF document and went back to the email he retrieved from the archive, going to the bottom where your signature was.

“Y/N Y/LN…? My goodness!”

Oliver was taken aback by the transition of his wife’s demeanor, somewhat amused by the way in which she started to jump up and down and laugh out loud.

“Love? Do you know her?”

Ella raised her hands to the top of her head and gazed at the ceiling while breathing out a sigh of relief, her feelings of worry slowly evaporating as a sense of calmness descended over her.

“We were literally best friends in high school!”

Notes:

• I didn't come up with the full description of Death's scent. Full credits to this site.

• In case you're wondering if the Reader will meet the Corinthian again, the answer is yes. All in due time.

• I was planning to add the revelation about Nada and Morpheus' son in this chapter, but in the end, I just couldn't fit those parts in. The Nada segment will definitely be added in the next update though, while I came up with something interesting regarding the truth about Calliope and Orpheus. There will be some drama and angst because of that, but this is all I can say without making spoilers.

• How many times do we sense something, but our brain and/or heart gets in the way? Sometimes we are confused and emotional, to the point we cannot make sense of what we truly feel anymore. I wanted to portray this aspect with Reader's state of mind.

• The timeframe I set at the start of this chapter is most likely inaccurate. I tried to find some proper information about the amount of days or weeks that pass between the end of episode 5 and the beginning of episode 6, but I couldn't find any. If someone knows, please correct me and I will edit the chapter!

• In my mind, even if Death never told her brother that she met the Reader in person, she most likely mentioned something about their relationship. Initially, I wanted to include that in the chapter as well, but I decided to cut it out to reduce the amount of text. Maybe I'll add a bit of it as a written memory.

• Yep, time to add some original characters into the story! :D Ella will play a very important role in Reader's life.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 9 ->

Read on AO3!

Lost in a Dream

Pairings: Dream/Morpheus/Sandman x Reader Word Count: ~9.6k Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, fingering, slight praise kink, vanilla sex, reader almost gets mugged(?), female reader. A/N: DAMN IT! I said I wasn’t going to fall for Dream, and then I did. I swear, it wasn’t on purpose. I really hope this doesn’t flop, I put a lot of effort into this and this man is so precious, he deserves so much more!!! Anyway, thank you and enjoy!

You were running.

You were always running, longing for peace in the dream world so that you could escape your strife in the real world. But that wasn’t an option.

Because, here you were, running in a dream that’s meant to be of your own control. Every waking hour, you spend your days looking over your shoulder in fear that he may have crossed over, found you again to torment you and finally bring your time to an end. Every night, you fall asleep and run from the nightmarish creature that tortures you with a sadistic game of cat and mouse.

Keep reading

SOMEONE DREW DREAM AT THE ART GALLERY I WENT TO TODAY

IF U DREW THIS IT MADE MY DAY THANK U <3

The chokehold they have on me fuck I’m not ok

You need not have come to my defence. Clearly. Still, I didn’t want to be drinking alone here in 100 years’ time. 

[insp]

Dreamling/Ineffable Husbands Parallels:

"We're not friends"

"Dating through the ages" montage episode

*Need to make Shakespeare famous*

One of them never eats

Hob/Aziraphale: looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you

Dream/Crowley: looks like they could kill you, actually a cinnamon roll. That could actually kill you.

Their arc ends with them sitting together at a food establishment

50% of the couple must be goth

The other 50% has a thing for tweed elbow patches

hey Professor who’s your cute goth boyfriend?

.

can you imagine Dream dropping into Hobs lecture while he shit talks Shakespeare o̴u̴t̴ ̴o̴f̴ ̴j̴e̴a̴l̴o̴u̴s̴y̴

This series has me in tears constantly. It is so good!!

𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

a cursed mortal, a lonesome Dream Lord, and a story spanning one thousand years.

content warnings: angst, slowburn/slowbuild, mutual pining, dream being dream.

⏳ playlist | corinthian & wanderer playlist | pinterest board | inspo tag & asks | ao3 |

🌙  CHAPTER INDEX

YEAR 0-200

YEAR 200-300

YEAR 304

YEAR 304-521

YEAR 522

YEAR 522-619

YEAR 619-850

YEAR 916-994 [coming soon]

YEAR 1021

BEYOND.

➥ BONUS CONTENT

"I wonder what I look like in your eyes."

"I broke my rules for you."

“My heart is so full of you I can hardly call it my own.”

“You were worth the wait.”

currently accepting headcanon/drabble requests and discussions for this series, feel free to send something in!

P.S. I do not do tag lists, if you want to keep up with this fic, please bookmark this post or follow me directly, thank you.

This entire episode right here hurt me to the next level it was pain but also the sweetest fucking thing we’ve seen him do

THE SANDMAN

Calliope 1.11

I am in love with this fic!!!!!!!!

𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

a cursed mortal, a lonesome Dream Lord, and a story spanning one thousand years.

content warnings: angst, slowburn/slowbuild, mutual pining, dream being dream.

⏳ playlist | pinterest board | inspo tag & asks | ao3 |

🌙  CHAPTER INDEX

YEAR 0-200

YEAR 200-300

YEAR 304

YEAR 304-521

YEAR 522 [coming soon]

➥ BONUS CONTENT

"I wonder what I look like in your eyes."

currently accepting headcanon/drabble requests and discussions for this series, feel free to send something in!

P.S. I do not do tag lists, if you want to keep up with this fic, please bookmark this post or follow me directly, thank you.

It’s things like this that I need in my life

Stay With Me ; Morpheus

-> sandman masterlist

Summary: Before Hobs Gadling, Death granted immortality to one other mortal. And like Hobs, this mortal yearned to live, to love. Death liked this woman, the one so passionate to love the world offered to her. Death, ever the matchmaker, knew that if anyone was in dire need of love, it was her pathetic, sweetheart of a brother; Dream of The Endless.

Chapter 1: A Fated Meet

Chapter 2: Hello, Again

╰┈➤ ❝ [coming soon] ❞

Chapter 3: Welcome to The Dreaming

Chapter 4: Perhaps, Friendship?

Chapter 5: Take my Heart

Chapter 6: Stay With Me

This this right here

This is what I live for

V e n g e a n c e

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

dream sulking around leaving trails of sand behind him and hob sighing and getting the vacuum cleaner

Happy holidays!

Warm wishes featuring the funniest handmade ornament I’ve done in a hot sec

Felt kinda sandman-y if that is a real word

if there are any Sandman reaction fics can people tell me there’s names? please? thank you