The Sickness Unto Death
A Philosophy Behind Writer's Block: Valuing Despair
Unfortunately, it happened again where I went a little over a month without writing anything I was happy with. I would attempt to get some words down, remembering that even a little bit is progress; but, no matter what I did, everything just felt so dry and dull. Not only that, my stories felt like they were boring or just not worth it anymore. It was awful.
I tried everything that normally helped with getting over writer’s block. I’d try out different times to write, read other books for inspiration, focus on another hobby—still, it all felt like I was banging on a brick wall. That’s when I turned to my philosophy studies, as if there was some sort of deeper consciousness of an answer that would aid my issues.
Well, there was. The infamous Kierkegaardian Despair.
The Sickness unto Death
The Sickness unto Death is a book written by Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard in 1849 under the pseudonym Anti-Climacus. A work of Christian existentialism, the book is about Kierkegaard’s concept of despair, which he equates with the Christian concept of sin, which he terms “the sin of despair.”
In Kierkegaard's work, despair arises from a fundamental disconnection from one’s true self and from God. He distinguishes between different forms of despair, including the despair of having a self and the despair of not wanting to be oneself.
Now, take what you will from the Christian existentialism part (I’m pagan, so I already had mixed opinions on many classic texts on God), but it doesn’t erase how the concept of despair can shed light on the underlying struggles that writers—at least, myself—may face.
It’s Never Just a Phase
Writer’s block can be seen as a manifestation of existential despair in which we feel disconnected from our creative essence or authentic self. This disconnection may stem from various sources, such as self-doubt, fear of failure, or a sense of alienation from one’s creative impulses. We may experience a profound sense of emptiness or meaninglessness, unable to access the inspiration and clarity needed to write.
Moreover, Kierkegaard’s notion of despair as a failure to align with one’s true self suggests that writer’s block may arise when our creative endeavors are driven by external motives or expectations rather than genuine inner inspiration. The pressure to produce work that meets societal standards or fulfills commercial demands can lead to a sense of existential disorientation and paralysis.
Don’t Just Overcome it. Value it.
If you resonate with Kierkegaard’s work, you will agree with his observation that we are always going to despair over something. It’s not about waiting for the tide to roll over or for the dry spell to ease up, but to examine our own self’s relation to what we are lamenting over. He writes:
“Despair is an aspect of the spirit, it has to do with the eternal in a person. But the eternal is something he cannot be rid of, not in all eternity… If there were nothing eternal in a man, he would simply be unable to despair… Having a self, being a self, is the greatest, the infinite, concession that has been made to man, but also eternity’s claim on him.”
Let’s break down the quote and explore how it can inform our approach to overcoming writer’s block:
Despair as an Aspect of the Spirit: Kierkegaard suggests that despair is not merely a psychological state but an aspect of the spirit, rooted in the eternal dimension of human existence. Kierkegaard’s conception of despair invites us to recognize the creative process as a site of existential tension and struggle.
Writer’s block is not merely a technical or practical obstacle to be overcome but a profound existential challenge that confronts us with the limitations of our finite selves and the aspirations of their creative spirit.
The Eternal in a Person: Kierkegaard asserts that despair is linked to the eternal within individuals, suggesting that it arises from a tension between the finite and the infinite aspects of human nature. The finite aspects encompass the temporal, material, and contingent dimensions of life, while the infinite aspects involve the eternal, transcendent, and spiritual dimensions. This tension is inherent in human consciousness and manifests in various forms of despair, such as the despair of weakness, the despair of defiance, and the despair of not willing to be oneself.
This tension between the finite and the infinite can be understood as the conflict between the limitations of our creative faculties and the boundless possibilities of imagination and expression. Writer’s block often emerges when the writer feels constrained by external pressures, self-doubt, or perfectionism, inhibiting their ability to access the infinite reservoir of creative inspiration within them.
Moreover, Kierkegaard’s concept of the finite and the infinite highlights the paradoxical nature of creativity. While the creative process involves the manipulation of finite materials—words, images, sounds—it also taps into something transcendent and ineffable, something that exceeds the boundaries of ordinary experience. Writer’s block can be seen as a manifestation of our struggle to bridge this gap between the finite and the infinite, to give form to the formless, and to articulate the inarticulable.
Having a Self as Eternity’s Claim: In Kierkegaard’s philosophy, the concept of “having a self” refers to the capacity for self-consciousness, self-reflection, and moral agency that distinguishes human beings from other creatures. It involves the awareness of one’s own existence as a distinct individual with thoughts, feelings, desires, and responsibilities. “Eternity’s claim” suggests that the existence of the self is not merely a temporal or transient phenomenon but is imbued with profound significance that extends beyond the confines of earthly life. The self, according to Kierkegaard, is intimately connected to the eternal dimension of human existence, reflecting the divine spark within each individual.
“Having a self as eternity’s claim” suggests that the act of creative expression is not merely a personal endeavor but is also a manifestation of the eternal striving for meaning and significance. Writers, as self-aware and self-conscious beings, bear a profound responsibility to give voice to their innermost thoughts and feelings, to explore the depths of human experience, and to contribute to the ongoing dialogue of humanity.
Embracing Existential Depth
So how do we value despair and overcome writer’s block in light of Kierkegaard’s insights? Writer’s block often extends beyond mere technical or practical challenges and can be rooted in deeper existential concerns. This involves grappling with questions of identity, purpose, and meaning in the creative process. By recognizing writer’s block as a reflection of these existential concerns, we can approach it as an opportunity for self-exploration and growth. Rather than viewing it solely as a barrier to productivity, we can use writer’s block as a catalyst for deeper introspection and self-discovery. This might involve journaling, meditation, or engaging in conversations with fellow writers or mentors to uncover underlying psychological or philosophical issues that may be contributing to the blockage. I have previously posted a blog on writing soliloquies. Embracing existential depth allows us to transform our struggles into sources of insight and inspiration, ultimately enriching our creative work.
There is a large aspect of accepting what you cannot control, another widely-known philosophical concept. Swimming against the current, after all, may prove to be more tiring than it’s worth. Instead, be kind to yourself and practice self-compassion during these moments. Understand that experiencing creative struggles is a normal part of the writing process and treat yourself with the same kindness and understanding you would offer to a friend facing similar challenges.
Seek social support. Reach out to fellow writers, friends, or mentors for support and encouragement. Sharing your struggles with others can help you gain perspective and feel less isolated in your creative journey, because, trust me, we have all been there.
Ensure that you are also setting realistic goals. All I would want to do was upkeep my 3k word/day momentum, but I would feel even worse about myself for being unable to do so. Break down your writing goals into smaller, more manageable tasks and set realistic deadlines for yourself. Celebrate small victories along the way to maintain motivation.
Finally, what has helped me the most, is to read widely. Immersing myself in diverse genres, styles, and voices provided so much insight into what I could be missing in my own work; or, it simply sparked my love of story-telling all over again.
Closing Words
Remember that writer’s block is a temporary obstacle that can be overcome with patience, persistence, and, apparently, a bit of philosophy. Where there is frustration, we will find insight.
More Posts from Xlili-lyraterx and Others
𓅨 Just One Sip: Chapter Three
Just One Sip: You take a job as a security guard at an old manor to pay off your crippling student debt. You did not expect to be guarding a mysterious man trapped in a glass cage or to fall under his starry eyes. You were going to break him out, but becoming his snack was not part of the plan.
Warnings: Explicit Language, Vampire Shit/BLOOD (What You Came For), Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Kissing in the Rain (Morpheus Makes it Hot, K?), You Get to Wander the Palace in a White Nightgown (Peak fanfic rt there), Filth, Two Fools in Love.
To Note: Vampire!Dream x Female!Reader, It’s a little dark but Reader doesn’t complain.
Word Count: ~10.1k
Previous | Masterlist
This is half edited, I’ll take care of it later so enjoy!
You’d been wandering around the palace, a little aimless, when a woman had approached you, asking for help. Apparently a little girl was having a ball with a bunch of dreams and nightmares, but the woman that usually played the part of a princess, was needed elsewhere. The issue? The little girl really wanted a princess at her ball and would most likely burst into tears if one didn’t show up. A dream to a nightmare really. You were all for helping out, happy to have something to do if it meant that the little girl would be happy.
So with a quick wiggle of her fingers, the woman had transformed your simple jeans and shirt into a lavish dress fit for a princess. You felt like you had stepped into the world of Cinderella. Shimmering silver fabric wrapped around your body, tightening around your waist before billowing out in an enormous skirt. Lifting a hand, you ran your fingers over the unique neckline that was in the shape of butterfly wings, bejeweled with pearls and other crystal gems. Every inch of the dress sparkled with stars you really did feel like you had been plopped into a fairytale.
Feeling your shoes shift from flat soles to heels, you grabbed at the layered skirt and pulled it back to see your feet neatly tucked into a pair of silver heels that were just as shimmering silver as the dress. There was so much fabric, shimmering with every little movement, you were certain that you’d be the center of attention… you probably should have thought this through before saying yes.
“Oh, one last touch,” The woman spoke, peering at your face and hair. Another wiggle of her fingers and your hair was shifting to match the elegance of the strapless dress. Your hands reached up and brushed across your shoulders as you nervously looked around. Certainly you would look ridiculous in this outfit just wandering around the palace… at the very least, the enormous dress was practically weightless on you and you had no difficulty wearing it. The heels were another issue all together.
“I’ve never been good with wearing heels,” You worried, looking at the woman who then wiggled her fingers at herself and dressed herself in a dress fitting for a ball, but nowhere near as stunning as yours.
“You think the girls will care?” She countered.
“I look like I stepped off the set of Lily James’ Cinderella.” She snorted.
“This dress is so much better, it’s spun from stardust and stitched by the cosmos. Lily James could never pull off wearing pure starlight like you can.” Your hand was grabbed and she started pulling you through the palace. “Come, we’re late as it is.”
“You haven’t even told me your name!” You exclaimed.
“You can call me Andy,” She said as you both crossed a hallway and turned down a corridor that led to the great hall.
“Andy,” You repeated, trying to keep up with her hurried steps. “It’s nice to meet you.”
You both came to a stop in the grand hall and Andy turned to face you, taking both your hands in hers.
“You look tense,”
“I have no idea what I’m doing and have never worn anything like this.” You pointed out. “What’s not to be tense about?”
“They’re little girls, they’ll adore you.” Andy reassured you. You were about to remind her that looking like a princess and acting like one, was completely different, when Morpheus’ voice echoed in the large room and he appeared with several subjects following him.
“There are several other nightmares we need to discuss regarding the Corinthian’s relievement of duties…” Morpheus trailed off the moment he saw you standing in front of Andromeda. His entire being froze in place, his eyes taking the entirety of your beauty. Morpheus didn’t know what you were doing with Andromeda, but you were dressed in starlight and your precious skin was laid bare to tantalize him. Even across the grand hall he could already smell the bewitching scent of the heavenly blood coursing through your body, see the way you shifted in place with your muscles extending and contracting in obvious fluster… you were a sight to behold and erased all thoughts from the Endless, temporarily blocking the collective unconsciousness of the universe.
But as soon as your eyes connected with his, Andromeda was speaking to you and a shimmer of the Greek woman’s magic enshrouded you both. Then you were gone and the bright source of life and vitality disappeared from the grand hall.
“Sir?” A nightmare probed, having noticed that Morpheus’s attention had been drawn elsewhere.
“We shall continue this conversation at a later date, I have somewhere else I must be.” Morpheus told them, his voice touched with a hint of strain. Oh he was so hungry for you. Hungry not just for your precious vitality, but your light, your scent, your touch. Morpheus craved you like nothing he had in his entire being. So he followed you and Andromeda to the dream she had taken you to.
For a moment, you thought your ear drums had burst from the squeals of delight from the ten little girls all dressed up in gowns. When they had spotted you, they had been awestruck for but a few moments, then the happiest little shrieks erupted from their mouths and they swarmed you. Their faces had instantly dissipated your nervousness and you crouched down to their eye level with a big smile.
“Cinderella!” One of them exclaimed with a crooked smile, her eyes nearly glowing in delight. “I can’t believe you’re here!! Best. Birthday. EVER!!” You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm, very glad that you had said yes to Andy. It was worth seeing their smiles.
“Ooh, ooh, can you tell us all about Prince Charming?” Another one of the little girls begged. “I mean surely by now you know him well enough, you did marry him.” Shit. What were going to say? Just by their babbles you knew they were talking about Lily James and Richard Madden’s Cinderella… but you really didn’t know much about Kit in the movie. It wasn’t like there was an in-depth guide on the prince… granted he had more personality in the live action than the animated films.
“Oh,” You echoed, stalling and trying to come up with a way to appease them. Well, you suppose you could bull shit your way through it. No, children sometimes had a knack for seeing through lies. You’d tell them about your Prince Charming. If you had one that is… “Well, he is kind, though it might not seem like it because he is so focused on his duties. Being a Prince is a very important job.” The little girls nodded in agreement, fully engrossed with your words. “But if you are lucky enough to get to know him, you’ll learn how important family is to him, and I’m not talking about direct family, but friends as well.”
“My mom says that having good friends is really important.” You nodded in agreement.
“Very important, you can rely on friends for help you when you need it.” You said before continuing on with your description of your dream Prince Charming. Little did you know that while you spun a tale of your dream prince, you were describing a certain Endless, and that Endless was hanging on every word you spoke. He memorized those details, ingraining them to memory, becoming everything you wanted and dreamed of. When you were in the middle of telling a tale of how you and your Prince Charming had met, Morpheus changed his clothing to formal ones, dark as eternal night. Then he began stepping forwards, making his presence known.
The little girls surrounding you zeroed their eyes on him in a matter of moments and fresh squeals permeated the lavish ball room.
“It’s Prince Charming!!!” They cried out in excitement while you raised your eyes. Shock rippled through your body and you rose to your feet, clutching your hands to your silver stardust covered chest. It was one thing to be dressed like this in front of a bunch of princess loving girls, but Morpheus!? You felt embarrassed and self conscious of your body. So you stared at your glove covered hands and let the elated little girls fawn and squeal over the inhumanely beautiful Morpheus. Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you with a puzzled look on his face.
“They keep calling me ‘Prince Charming’… do you know why?” He quietly asked you as the little ones gathered in a group and looked at the pair of you standing together with wide eyes. If was like their fairytale had come true, for you and he were the picture of Prince and Cinderella.
“Just go with it,” You whispered back. “They think we are two Disney characters they love and I do not want to ruin this dream.”
“Very well,” Morpheus spoke, having no problem letting the dream progress with the little ones calling him ‘Prince Charming’. He had you in front of him, dressed beautifully and draped in stars. It was an indulgence to see you like this. “Will you tell me about this ‘Prince Charming’?”
You blinked at him, wondering how a being like him had no idea who Prince Charming was. Then you remember he’d been trapped for 106 years and inwardly chastised yourself for assuming he’d know about Disney.
“He’s from a children’s movie. Basically, a poorly treated woman, Cinderella, is forbidden from going to a ball by her stepmother. Her fairy godmother helps her out with a little bit of magic and she get’s to go to the ball.” You began explaining, picking at your glove covered fingers. “So she goes to the ball and meets the prince, Prince Charming, they dance, only the magic has a time limit that expires at midnight. The woman has to rush away from the ball because of it, leaving behind a shoe which the prince uses to find her again.”
“And these little girls think you are that Cinderella?” Morpheus asked for clarification, thinking over what you had told him. You nodded.
“And they think you are Prince Charming, I don’t want to ruin this for them, they’re so happy.” The hopeful look on your face was one that Morpheus refused to ruin, so he smiled (more like smirked), and offered his hand to you.
“Would you do me the honors, Cinderella?” You nearly blanched at him, your jaw threatening to drop open at how easy the Dream Lord fell into the role. The little girls, who had shuffled closer, looking between you two in reverence, gasped. Then they squealed.
“I don’t know how to dance!” You whispered shouted at him, panic filling your body. Morpheus could hear your heart speeding up in your chest. Could see the way fresh blood bloomed beneath your skin to perfume you with a heavenly scent. So delectable. So hungry. Morpheus’s fangs threatened to descend, your bare shoulders and neck enticing, all but calling for him to bury his face there. Sink his teeth into your flesh. Drink your sweet, sweet blood, warm liquid pouring down his throat. Ecstasy. “Morpheus.”
He blinked from his intimate thoughts and arched an eyebrow at you, finding delight in your wish to make this dream perfect for the little ones.
“This a dream, Y/N,” Morpheus reassured you. “All you have to do, is wish to dance.” You stood stiffly for a few moments more, the little girls on the edge of excitement. It wasn’t as if you didn’t wonder what it would like to be swept around on the dance floor by a prince, by Morpheus. So you raised your gloved fingers and took his offered hands. The little girls all squealed with glee and Morpheus, putting on a show of a life time, led you to the center of the ballroom. You swallowed thickly, worrying about tripping or making a fool of yourself in front of both Morpheus and the little ones. The morbid embarrassment you would feel…
And yet… Morpheus’ eyes, staring deep into yours, captured your entire mind and stole all thoughts of unease and insecurity. Your body seemed to know what it was doing the moment music began playing from somewhere, and your feet began moving in time with Morpheus’.
“I’ve never danced with someone before,” You absentmindedly spoke while Morpheus effortlessly twirled you around the dance floor. He smirked, pleased to know that he could have one of your firsts. He’d have all of them in time.
“I am honored to have that privilege.” He told you, spinning you in a circle. You were surprised that your feet effortlessly pulled off the maneuver, not tripping over the skirts swilling about your legs in a shimmering silver storm. Around and around you went, almost floating across the beautiful tiled floor. The Dream Lord twirled you around, effortlessly lifted you off your feet, and held you against his chest with the gentleness of a lover. Gods you were falling all that harder for the being.
Morpheus wasn’t that far off from your feelings, indulging in the closeness of your body, enraptured by your stunning beauty that was only enhancedby the stardust and cosmos wrapped around your stellar body. Andromeda had done a wonderful job dressing you up as a fairytale princess, because you truly looked like royalty. And your skin. The neckline of your dress left much to be desired for Morpheus was tantalized by the perfume of your blood. The flush that bloomed just beneath your skin spread your divine blood all across your body. It was like you had doused yourself in an aphrodisiac. Your smell was already making him loose his inhibitions.
So when your dance finally ended, Morpheus was glad that the little ones had disappeared, falling into a deeper dreamless sleep that left you all to himself. Pulling back your hands from his, you stared at your covered fingers with a slight frown.
“Is something wrong?” Morpheus questioned, intending to eliminate anything that took away your bright smile and adoring gaze. You looked back up at the impeccably dressed Endless, and once again admired how incredible Morpheus looked dressed as a prince. Even if it was a dark one.
“My hands,” You spoke up, raising your sweating fingers. “I never realized how hot gloves might get when dancing, I can only imagine what it was like for the woman who wore these for hours.” Morpheus shifted his hands and began tugging the glove from your left hand. You let him, watching as he carefully pulled them free of your arm and hand. The soft fabric melted to shimmering dust that floated upwards and disappeared. He pulled the remaining glove from your hand and settled his eyes on yours once more.
“Those women were accustomed to such dealings, it was normal life for them.” Morpheus gently spoke, his eyes trailing along the curves of your face. “Would you care for another dance?” Your face warmed once more, and unbeknownst to you, that only made more of the sweet scent of your blood perfume your skin. Morpheus shivered in delight, his throat aching to be parched by the sweet nectar pulsing within your body.
“If you have time, I know you are busy.” You shyly answered, not wanting to hog Morpheus’ precious time.
“I will always have time for you,” Morpheus reassured you before taking your hand in his and gripping your waist once more. This time he chose a slower song for the orchestra to play, wanting to savor and enjoy every millisecond he had of you dressed in starlight and within his arms.
“Do you? I mean, Lucienne explained to me what it is that you do and that seems like a very important job.” You said, finding yourself all that much closer to the Endless. Your bodies were practically touching now. Morpheus could feel the softness he craved, only just barely hidden from him by billowing layers of silver cosmos. And your scent. Oh how you made his hunger burn in the back of his throat. One hundred and six years was nothing compared to how you made him hunger. Almost like the forbidden fruit, for Morpheus knew that if he had one more sip, he would never let you leave.
Perhaps it was cruel of you to remain in his palace, teasing, taunting him with your ambrosial smell that echoed the divine blood that ran through your veins… and yet Morpheus would find himself once again despondent if you ever left. You were such a beautiful life residing within his dark halls.
“Am I not doing my duty?” Morpheus countered with a smirk. “I am overseeing a dream, ensuring that Andromeda is doing her duty as intended.”
“That sounds rehearsed,” You rebutted. “And like an excuse. The Dreaming is impeccably run and everyone does their job very well. You don’t need to oversee anything.”
“Then perhaps I simply wished to indulge in the honor of dancing with you when your beauty shines brighter than Sirius.” Your mind went blank and so did your ability to dance. You tripped, your legs in a tangle, and let out a yelp. Good god, you were going down hard. But rather than ungracefully falling to the floor in a jumble of limbs and fabric, Morpheus plucked your falling body and stepped in a half circle, using your falling momentum to pull you right back to your feet. Only he didn’t just make sure you didn’t fall. You didn’t know if he meant to or not, but Morpheus’s strength sent you crashing right into his chest.
Letting out a small grunt as you collided with his black covered figure, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder, hooked around his neck to stabilize yourself. Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your chest at this point.
“Oh my god,” You wheezed, clutching Morpheus’s hand which you still held, and pulling your face away from where it had almost smashed against his shoulder.
“My apologies for distracting you,” Morpheus’ voice floated into your ear in close proximity and with barely a shift of your head, your eyes met his. He had the subtlest of smirks on his lips (because he definitely knew he was the cause of your tripping and was entirely unapologetic as it had landed you within his arms) and his eyes were a mix of silver and black, no hint of their usual blue storm. You really needed to figure out what each color meant.
“Don’t apologize, I’m just clumsy,” You replied faintly, every inch of your skin feeling hot from his proximity. You almost wanted to get closer to him, his coolness soothing the flames dancing along your flesh. Morpheus was drunk off your scent, the sweetness of your blood no longer subtly perfuming your skin but ensnaring all of his senses to that he was under your spell. Your heart rate was coaxing him to you, fast and rhythmic, pushing your ambrosial blood through your body in a manner that repeatedly called to Morpheus. Starving. He was starving. Had been since indulging on the blood straight from your vein. None of his usual sources had been desirable or palatable to the dream lord since his return. Only you.
“You’re far from clumsy, Y/N,” Morpheus murmured, maintaining his arm around your waist while bringing his hand up to trace the curve of your jaw. “I have encountered many royalty and fairness within my existence and yet none of them compare to your astral beauty.” As he spoke, Morpheus allowed himself to sneak closer to your bared skin. Your cheeks almost brushed, no they did, and you shivered slightly as pearlescent skin cooled your inflamed one.
“Pretty sure you can thank Andy for that,” You meekly whispered. Morpheus chuckled at your deflection.
“Andromeda merely enhanced what you already have,” His lips brushed against your neck, against your pulse. Fluttering, fast, full of delectable life. You slowly exhaled, feeling the gentle brushes of midnight strands tickling your cheek. Did you really need to still be leaning into him? Probably not, but you weren’t inclined to move, not when it felt so nice to be in his arms. Not when the Endless had you enchanted like this. You bewitched each other. Morpheus’ lips rested over your pulse, his throat arching and teeth already sliding free. Oh to have just one more sip. His lips just barely parted, itching to sink into your flesh and finally sate the agony of hunger churning inside his being. The breath caught in your chest because you could feel the heat of his mouth. No. He promised himself that he would not do this to you, he had already disrespected you by taking without asking once before. He refused to harm you again for he knew that he might not be able to control himself.
So Morpheus promptly detached himself from you, his inner being raging from the loss of your soft warmth, your ensnaring scent. He saw confusion bloom within your eyes, tinged with hurt, and put an end to the temptation.
“This dream is over,” He spoke, ending the fairytale just as quickly as it had started.
You were suddenly standing in a darkened grand hall, the silence of the large room almost deafening now. Your aching heart was in your throat and your eyes burned. Then Andromeda hurried up to you. You turned your eyes to her.
“What did I do wrong?” You whispered, trying not to cry because surely you had done something to anger Morpheus, to ruin the idyllic dream in which you felt so happy. You had felt like a princess, had danced like one, had been spun around, lifted off your feet… you’d danced like Cinderella and felt like her too. “Andy, what did I do wrong?”
The Grecian woman strode up to you and took your trembling hands, wishing she could placate you with an answer that would bring back your lovely smile. But she couldn’t, because nothing she could say would explain Morpheus’s abrupt departure from the dream. Nor could she tell you of her lords intimate thirst for you. So she led you towards your rooms, determined to at least sooth your hurt and confusion.
She led you to your rooms, had you change out of the gorgeous stardust and cosmos dress, and take a soothing bath full of herbs and perfumed oils that would surely ease you. While you sat in the bath, there were cracks of thunder. Booming, echoing, almost shaking the marble of the palace. Eyes lifting to the beautiful skylight overhead the bath, you watched lighting illuminate pitch black clouds. A storm was building overhead, souring what had once been a gorgeous day.
“It looks like it is going to rain,” You softly commented. Andromeda, who was kneeling behind you and absentmindedly tending to your hair by hand, rather than by magic, hummed in agreement. Oh yes it was going to rain, perhaps better described as a storm. A violent one. The Grecian woman knew not what her lord was despondent over this time. You most likely. But why? Had you and he not had a nice time dancing within the dream? You’d been the picture of perfection upon the dance floor, footsteps in time with endless grace and beauty. No one could quite predict what Morpheus’ mood would be like when he was in love. Would he fall into a state of depression this time? Crushed once more from a lost love? Andromeda didn’t know for you were a mortal living within the Dreaming. Would you spurn Morpheus’ love for you? Or would you be accepting of his true nature?
“Yes it seems so,” Andromeda echoed quietly. Whatever might come from Morpheus’s infatuation with you, it had to be your decision on how you would proceed once you learned the truth. And you would, for you were a persistent mortal. Eventually you would worm the truth out of someone, if you didn’t already have your own suspicions. “I am sure the storm shall pass, my lady, for they always do given enough time.” You spent the rest of your bath staring up at the tumultuous clouds, wondering what was causing such unpleasant weather.
Your skin was pruning by the time you decided to pull yourself from the cold waters. You dried yourself and changed into one of the fancy yet incredibly comfortable white nightgowns Morpheus had supplied to you. Fixing your hair for the night, you slipped into your lavish bed and snuggled yourself into the blankets. Surely a good nights sleep would alleviate your unease.
Rather than peaceful dreams which you had been used to since arriving in the Dreaming, you were tormented by nightmares. The nightmares of course, didn’t torment you, but the dreams you had were still unsettling and made you feel restless. After yet another nightmare talking to you instead of doing their proper duty, you woke up and stared at the canopy of your bed. Shimmering fabric glimmered overhead, highlighted by flashes of lightning that seemed relentless, fluttered and swayed.
Wind was wailing outside the palace, screeching and beating down on the Dreaming with the might of the fiercest hurricane. Punishing even. Sighing to yourself as rain drowned out your thoughts, you pulled your bedcovers aside and got up. Restlessness had settled in your body and you doubted that you’d get any more sleep, so you were simply going to walk the halls until sleep finally came back. Departing your rooms, you wandered down empty halls while the storm outside continued to batter the realm. No lights were needed as you walked the halls, the flashes of lightning illuminating every surface of the palace.
Your wandering felt aimless, and you had perhaps walked halfway across the palace to new halls before you became aware of your surroundings. You didn’t recognize where you were.
“Well this is a bother,” You sighed to yourself, looking around and wondering where the hell you were. You weren’t bothered by the fact that you had no idea where you were, but by the fact that you could have sworn you’d seen all there was to see in the palace. Apparently not. So you poked around and took your time to marvel at statues and works of artwork. Trailing your fingers across a statue of a very beautiful woman, you were admiring her facial structure when a bright flash of lighting revealed a shadow of a person behind you. Turning in place, you glanced out the wall of windows to see a balcony and someone standing out in the storm. “What in the— who would stand out in that mess?” You questioned, moving to the window for a closer look.
Making it to the window, you peered out and squinted through the torrential rain…
“Morpheus!!?” You gasped, your eyes wide in shock. What was he doing outside in weather like that!? The dream lord was standing outside on the balcony, allowing the full force of the rain and gale pelt his body. Wondering what he was doing, you searched the hallway for the nearest door, and ventured out into the storm.
Rain pelted your body, soaking your white nightgown and quickly plastering it to your skin. You held a hand up to stop the harsh rain from hitting your eyes and approached the brooding endless, having no idea that it was him causing the torrential downpour and thunderous skies. Shivering from the cold, you came to a stop next to Morpheus and looked up at him in confusion.
“Morpheus?” You questioned, hoping that you were speaking loud enough so that the Endless could hear you. He did and turned to look at you in surprise. His eyes were black and shimmering, not to mention ringed with red. You hugged yourself, disliking the way the pelting rain made your skin sting.
“You should not be out in the rain.” The despondent Endless told you, not wishing for you to be out in such an environment. Certainly with the way your hair and nightgown stuck to your skin.
“You’re out in the rain,” You pointed out. Of course he was, he was punishing himself for hurting you and wallowing in self pity from knowing that he could not have you in the way that he wished.
“This is where I wish to be,” He told you, standing stiffly next to your body. Even with the torrential rain washing over your skin your scent still permeated his senses. It certainly didn’t help that he was envious of each and every drop of water that trickled across your skin. Your nightgown was soaked and almost sheer against your lush flesh, giving a sneak peek of all that Morpheus wished to adore. It only grew worse when you stepped closer and tilted your head to look at him, baring your neck to his intimate desires once more.
“Why are you punishing yourself?” You softly asked, worry etched upon your lovely features. “In this kind of weather? What is wrong, Morpheus? What did I do?” You further questioned, thinking back to how he had ended the idyllic dream so quickly. Morpheus forced his gaze away from yours and turned back to stare gloomily out over his realm.
“I have gravely hurt you, Y/N,” Morpheus replied, his pain rich within his voice. “I have hurt and wronged you in a way that I shall never forgive myself for.” You were confused, having no idea what he was speaking of and with no memory of him ever hurting you.
“I don’t understand,” You whispered, your eyebrows drawing together. Morpheus refused to look at you, feeling as if he had no right to gaze upon you. A Night and Time sent woman who had saved him from his confines. You reached to tug on his coat. “Morpheus, what is there to forgive?” Your fingers slipped down his star lined coat as you began retracting your hand, feeling like you were not making any progress getting through to the Endless… but then Morpheus’s fingers sought out your retreating ones. He grasped your hand and slowly brought it up to reveal your palm. The same one you had sliced open.
“Have you so easily forgotten what I’ve done?” Morpheus questioned with a strained voice, keeping your palm exposed in a point. He still wouldn’t look at you, but you knew what he was talking about. Your neck tingled in reminder. Teeth sinking into your neck, blood slipping down your neck to your collarbone… sounds of relief, pleasure, desire. Right, Morpheus had vampire tendencies and had a snack upon being released… why was he so bothered by that? “I have wronged you, hurt you, and refused to allow myself to do so again.”
What? Is that why he was trying to keep you at arms length? That every time you got close he suddenly drew back? Because he was afraid of hurting you? Pressing your lips together, you raised your hand and slipped your fingers to his face, gently forcing him to turn his head and look at you. The Endless looked so tormented and upset, and that greatly upset you. So you gave him your boldest statement to date.
“What if I gave you my permission,” You told him, slowly drawing your fingers along Morpheus’s sculpted cheek. Staring determinately into the eyes of the Endless, you stood in the pelting rain and shivered from the cold. You wouldn’t leave until you had an answer. Morpheus stared down at you, his entire being a mash of conflicting emotions and urges. His throat was dry, his insatiable thirst momentarily at bay, and stared down at you. Slowly, painfully slowly, his face drew closer to yours. You leaned closer, feeling sheltered from the harsh rain and blustering winds.
Your heart was beating rapidly and your shivers getting more pronounced the longer you stood in the rain… but all you could focus on was the inhumanely beautiful being in front of you. You thought that maybe you wouldn’t get an answer from Morpheus this night, or any time soon for that matter… just tension, silence, and the sound of the hellacious storm.
“Is that enough or shall you still keep your distance from me?” You faintly asked, still insistent on getting an answer from him. Morpheus would have you beg no longer, closing the minuscule gap between your faces. His first kiss was soft and gentle, long. His lips pressed against your own with a touch of starlight. Enchanting and hypnotic, hot and cold. You felt like you were frozen in place for a moment, only able to stand there while the being that had you wrapped up in his spell, kissed you.
But then you finally managed to kiss back, and the sweet and delicate kisses turned shorter, quicker, more urgent and almost even desperate. Those thoughts were fleeting as Morpheus slipped an arm around your waist and pulled your shivering body flush against his. Star-sculpted lips pursued your own desperately, despite the rain constantly running down your faces and trying to break you apart.
It wasn’t long before he had you gasping for air in between kisses, wanting more but still needing to breathe. Kiss after kiss, each one more intense than the previous, the Endless’s hunger only became more and more apparent. To kiss your lips was better than he had ever dreamed about. You weren’t that far off either, having been drawn into a daze just from his taste.
Morpheus brushed his hand over your cheek and dug his fingers into your wet hair, pushing your mouth closer to his while flicking his tongue along your lip. More, he wanted more. Not just to kiss you. He wanted to drink in your taste, indulge his tongue, feed on your soft sounds. A small moan slipped from your lips and the Endless devoured it greedily, feeding off the precious sound as he so intimately desired. It was almost as delicious as your blood. Your own fingers found midnight strands and wound themselves around them as the Dream Lord moved in a half circle, effortlessly lifting you off your feet. The bitter cold and pelting rain disappeared as warmth surrounded you, followed by low light.
Opening your eyes, you wanted to look around to see where Morpheus had moved you, but the moment your eyes connected with Morpheus’, you couldn’t tear them away. He was looking at you with those starry pitch black eyes, but you could see the want and desire within them. Oh how he wanted you, and not just for the blood running through your veins, but he wanted to taste your flesh, adore your skin, lavish your body in all the ways he’d imagined while locked in his cage. He wanted to love you, adore you, worship you in a way that was sure to indicate his true ardor for you. You would know of his reverence, surely. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your blood began rushing across your chilled skin.
You drew your fingers from his hair to his jaw, captivated by his beauty and numb to the chill in your body. You stroked his jaw, traced his lips with your fingertips while marveling at his sheer perfection, then appreciated how snowy and marble like his skin was.
“You’re so beautiful,” You whispered in awe. Morpheus’ eyes glowed with cosmic embers and he leaned in once more, your noses brushing. Resting your fingers lightly where jaw met neck, you looked at the Endless being with a pleading look in your eyes. “Let me love you, please.” You whispered your plea, trying not to shiver as your soaked nightgown cooled, only adding to your chilled state. He would have you beg no further, twisting his head so he could claim your lips once more.
While the Endless pursued your lips and taste, his long fingers met at the center of your soaked back and his fingers pulled outward. The satin material of your night gown disintegrated beneath his pull and you felt the top loosen around your shoulders. Morpheus’ fingers pressed into your bare skin while he kissed you deeper, tangling his tongue with yours. Your bare skin beneath his fingers was cold and damp and the Endless disliked that greatly. So he tore at the fabric of your nightgown, stripping the soaked material from your body until you were shivering in front of him, naked and entirely beautiful.
Your noses brushed when Morpheus’ lips departed yours, and for a few moments you mourned the loss of warmth, but then his deep starry gaze connected with yours. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around your waist, Morpheus drew the fingers of his other up your side. He took a moment to appreciate the pure majesty and delicateness of your being. Precious, pure… all his. Fingers trickled along your flesh, lips brushed against your own, it was debatable who was under whose spell, for you both were spellbound.
“I crave you,” Morpheus softly rumbled words flittered across your lips and you brushed your fingers through his obsidian locks once more.
“I’m here,” You replied, eyes searching his. His eyes, they glowed silver when his powers expressed themselves. Blue was his normal color, bright and intense… But black, black meant hunger, and you knew that he was starving. The fingers you had resting against his neck crept up to dance across his cheek. “I’m here and you can have as much as you want.” Rather than reply to your affirming words, welcoming words, Morpheus gently lifted you into his arms and carried you to a lavish bed fit for a being such as you. Gently placed upon sheets that felt like satin, you let your thumb brush over his lips while the vampiric being stared at you with the intensity of a supernova. Hunger. Desire. Want. Need. Desperation. You pulled his lips back to yours, desperately wishing for that wonderful floating feeling within your body once more.
Morpheus hungrily responded to your demand, nipping and tugging at your lips until you were softly panting and moaning beneath him. You could feel sharp teeth scrape over your lips, the being hovering over you just barely holding back his monstrous side. But he couldn’t hold back when his teeth caught the edge of your lip and small trickle of blood was smeared across your mouth. Morpheus pulled your lips closer, dragging his tongue across the smeared crimson and shuddering as your exquisite taste once again filled him with euphoria. Your lips parted with a soft moan as Morpheus’ mouth wandered, the being having licked every smear of blood from your lips.
He let his lips follow the curve of your jaw to the soft flesh beneath, and then to the place where your pulse fluttered at an increased pace. Every bit of your body was blooming with reaction, tantalizing and beckoning to be lavished, and you couldn’t help but squirm against soft sheets when cool fingers carved paths up your bare frame. Morpheus ran his fingers across your stomach to your ribs, taking in every bit of your beauty as he went. With every bit of your skin exposed, Morpheus found himself running his teeth along the places where your veins ran, taking the time to kiss your skin with ticklish teases.
“I have dreamed about touching you, caressing your skin, taking you far from that place which treated you with so little respect,” Morpheus husked against your skin, his teeth playing a dangerous game of teetering between scraping and cutting your skin. The wicked sharpness of the points made you shiver and tremble. You felt like you might beg to feel that wonderful feeling that came with Morpheus sinking his teeth into your flesh and whimpered, tugging on his hair and dragging a hand down his neck. “I have dreamed of nothing but you since I first caught your scent.”
“What do I smell like?” You questioned, suddenly self conscious about yourself. A silly notion, you were already naked beneath him. He made it clear that your scent was like drug to him. Morpheus nipped at the curve of your breast, a tinge of black creeping into his vibrant blue eyes as he lifted them to yours.
“Sweet,” Morpheus’ tone was low, dulcet, drawing out inner stirrings of desire that already nipped at every corner of your body. It was almost unbearable. “Your scent winds its way into my senses like the first signs of spring flowers. Fresh and teasing.” He moved his lips to your navel, marveling at the softness of your body. It was as if you descended from the goddess Aphrodite herself, plump and soft, naturally beautiful. “But then once it truly ensnares me, it locks me within its grasp. Twists my mind up in an agonizing temptation that pulls on every bit of will power I possess.” Morpheus drew from your touch, moving his hands to your hips where he drew your left leg up and tilted his head to press his face into your thigh. “And when I think I can’t get anymore wrapped up in your spell, you rip away all other primal desires until all that I can want… is you.”
This time Morpheus made a point to drag his teeth along the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, feeling the lovely hum of your blood rushing from the veins that lay just beneath your skin. It was torturous. Fast paced. Lush and thick. Hot. Full of life. Morpheus could help himself and nipped your inner thigh, only drawing the barest hints of blood from your skin to taste the nectar that filled your veins. You gasped and scratched at his hair, feeling only a kiss of pain before his mouth sucked on your skin and tongue flicked across the little puncture wounds. Your face warmed the moment your ears caught the soft sounds rumbling from Morpheus’ chest. God, it sounded like even a drop of your blood tortured the Endless with divinity.
“I fear the only one that shall ever sate my thirst is you.” The Endless admitted, nuzzling your thigh further and kissing the oozing bite. You ought to be scared from that statement. Fearful that you would be the only one who Morpheus would ever want to feed from, for surely that might put you on the brink of life and death. What if he took too much? What if he accidentally killed you because he was so hungry? Those thoughts didn’t scare you. You liked that he wanted you just as much as you him, and not just for your blood. No being spoke as poetic about your scent, your body, and not appreciate your being as a whole.
“I— I want to be yours,” You told him, working up the courage to say what you had been wishing the past few weeks. “There is nothing more in my life that I want than to be yours and for you to be mine.”
“And you shall, for I refuse all others,” Morpheus promised, the dark beast within him clawing at the seams of his mortal form to have you. Morpheus returned his lips to the little bite mark he had made on your thigh and he licked it, making sure that it was bleeding no longer before dragging his tongue along your skin to your hip. A beautiful moan touched by a breathless gasp departed your lips the moment his mouth drew close to your cunt. Oh, you had never had a mouth that close to your intimate flesh, and just his proximity made you want to squeeze your thighs together as electricity sparked from deep within your cunt. But the moment Morpheus sensed your muscles contracting and moving, he was placing his hands on your silken skin and forcing them to stay apart.
Morpheus started out slowly, gently, eager to taste more of you but wishing to treat you with the reverence of a thousand queens. His lips planted kisses along your hip, inching closer and closer to your throbbing flesh. Teasing. You wanted to squirm and push his head right where you wanted his mouth, your cunt. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. So you were resigned to breathe heavily, chest rising and falling in anticipation while the blood rushing through your body only swelled and perfumed your flesh further. The Endless effortlessly draped your leg over his shoulder and slipped his hand around your thigh to your ass, closing the gap between his mouth and your flesh.
Your first gasp was one of surprise. Ragged and breathless. The second, drowned out by a whine as Morpheus snaked his tongue through your folds and around your clit. You couldn’t help but try and wriggle your hips within his grasp, face on fire and fingernails clenching around the bedsheet. You were already wiggling around? Oh Morpheus was in for a treatif you were already reacting this beautifully… and he’d only just begun. He held your hip in a tighter grasp, one that would imprint his mark upon your body for eternity, and let loose the desire for you, through his tongue.
Morpheus carved a blazing trail across your flesh, igniting every nerve ending his devlishish tongue touched. He teased you menacingly, feeding the burning need that had consumed him for weeks. Only a pane of glass separating you from him. What exquisite torture. It was not enough to have you within his realm, his palace, his need surpassed your physical presence. The Endless had desired your flesh, your blood, your soul. Morpheus wanted it all…
You cried out sharply when your darkened lover’s lips found your most intimate flesh and sucked… and oh how glorious that sound was. Hand finding its way into midnight strands, you clenched your fingers and scratched at Morpheus’ scalp. You clawed at him, dug your other hand into soft bedding until you were fisting it, and writhed. Your hips thrashed, protesting the boundaries that Morpheus’ grip has set. Your shoulders arched and waned, and your leg kicked out while the hell of the one he had over his shoulder pressed into his back. You were feeling everything at once and it was overwhelming. Gasping on another whimper turned cry, your fingers harshly tugged on Morpheus’s hair. The endless felt the pull, the sharp tug on his hair that prickled across his scalp in sweet ecstasy. Your reactions were everything to him. Sweet. Inviting. Fueling. And your taste. The taste of your intimate flesh almost rivaled that of the divine blood rushing through your body. Growling softly, Morpheus raked his tongue over your clit once more, feeling the pronounced shudders within your body and the desperation in his own.
He wanted to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. Drink your vitality. Sate the ravaging hunger that seared in the back of his throat in an endless reminder.
It took everything Morpheus had to hold himself back from sinking his incisors into your thigh the moment you came undone beneath his ministrations. Head thrown back, you shook violently as what felt like molten pleasure rocketed through your veins. For a few moments your body had a mind of its own, muscles clenching and limbs jerking, you were along for the ride. So while you were writhing in pleasurable agony, Morpheus lapped up your liquid pleasure in an effort to distract himself from his burning hunger. It wasn’t hard, for you did taste exquisite and your pleasure was so beautiful and satisfying. But that hunger was getting so hard to ignore now that he had you stretched out and naked.
Your body finally relinquished control back to you and your limbs flopped to the bed as you moaned softly, wondering how one person could cause such ecstasy. While you continued to moan and pull yourself together once more, Morpheus licked at the remnants of your orgasm before slowly kissing his way up your hip. Your fingers curled briefly within his hair and you forced your eyes open to look down at the inhumanely beautiful creature currently kissing your body like it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was. You were.
“Morpheus,” His name came from your lips in a sweet whisper, but to the Endless it was like a crescendo. He shuddered and purred, ingraining the way you spoke his intimate name to memory. When he reached your breasts, he nuzzled your soft flesh and slid his hands up to your sides. His physical touch was almost like tortureto you. “Morpheus,”
“Have patience, beloved,” Morpheus purred, eyes glowing silver while his clothes began melting away from his body. You whined in frustration when his cool skin met your inflamed one and twisted beneath him, still feeling electricity along your skin. It was nearly impossible to stay still. Kissing his way along your throat, Morpheus couldn’t help but drag his teeth over your pulse. No, he would always taste that temping flesh if his mouth was near, no matter what the circumstance was. But you were getting impatient. So you dug your fingers into his soft hair and dragged his mouth away from your neck to put them where you wanted them: on yours.
The moment you had his lips pressing against yours, you pressed upwards, sliding your tongue across his lips while a rumbling chuckle came from Morpheus. You didn’t care that your own taste was on his lips, you just wanted every bit of him you could get, and you did. Morpheus raised a hand to grip your neck, fingers cradling your jaw while his teeth nipped at your sensitive lips and his tongue tangled with yours. You felt light headed, kissing him so deeply, so passionately, with such concentration that your forwent breathing just to kiss his lips… but even as you sucked greedy breaths for air, panted heavily, and felt a slight burn in your chest, you still didn’t stop. Morpheus could feel the way you were pushing your body to the limits, chasing after your want, your need. You wanted him almost as bad as he wanted you. He took pleasure in knowing that, great pleasure. Breaking the ravenous lip lock, Morpheus stroked your jaw while your noses brushed and you shuddered. You were his. He was yours. Mine. Mine. Mine.
So while his lips dove back to yours, the hand Morpheus still held on your side rapidly slipped down to your thigh and hiked your leg up against his waist. You raggedly gasped into his mouth the moment your soaked and pulsating cunt met his stiff cock. Morpheus devoured that beautiful sound you made. Even when your gasp morphed into a moan, the Endless continually pursued your mouth. To you it was almost overwhelming, Morpheus kissing you so deeply and him pulling your cunt against his cock. You raked your nails along his back, the muscles of your inner walls clenching aroundnothing… much to your disappointment. Whimpering against his mouth, you felt like you were going to combust into stardust when Morpheus rocked his hips into your throbbing flesh.
It was pure torture.
Feeling his cock rut against your damp flesh, push through your folds to glide ever so easily over your clit. Having the little sparks of pleasure that were always just short of true satisfaction burst along your inflamed skin. And the way he could twist your tongue with his… Your mouths broke apart and you sucked in oxygen while Morpheus gazed into your eyes. His own were a cosmic mix of blue and silver, shifting like pools sand. You went to beg him to do more than just tease you, but before you could utter even a single syllable, his cock was finally siding into your body.
You couldn’t help the little noise of surprise that caught in the back of your throat, nor the ever so soft whimper brought on by the slight sting of your walls. Nails clinging to whatever they could purchase, you trembled and shuddered beneath Morpheus while he buried his face in your neck and tried not to viciously rut into you because your body felt so damn good. Between the tantalizing blood rushing beneath your skin and the way your walls squeezed his cock, Morpheus had to force himself to take a few moments to collect himself when his hips pressed against yours. You yourself were nearly overwhelmed, torn between trying to wriggle and worm yourself free of the sting, and wanting to fulfill your intimate desire for the Endless being. But then Morpheus’ lips pressed against your neck and you could feel his breath on your skin, and that made a lightning bolt of electricity run straight through your body.
Entire body jerking in surprise, your proceeding gasp morphed into a moan when your movement made Morpheus’ cock push against spots within your cunt that made pleasure burn. Oh, oh my. Now you understood why your college friends were obsessed with their boyfriends. Your fingers clawed at one of his shoulders as you shifted in place and tried to replicate that wonderful feeling. Morpheus put and end to that immediately, body dropping against yours and sand slithering along your skin to keep you from moving about. Hand on your jaw, he forced you to stay still while his black eyes rose to meet yours.
“Don’t be greedy, Beloved, for my patience and will power hangs by a mere thread,” He softly warned. Clearly patience wasn’t your strong suit… he could play with that later, but not now. “I do not wish to accidentally hurt you.” Your thighs trembled against his and you slumped in place, ceasing your struggles against the Endless forces holding you still. God, could this being get anymore desirable?
“I’m not trying to be, I’ve just wanted you for so long.” Morpheus brushed a few tuffs of hair away from your face.
“And you will,” He reassured you, eliminating the small space between your lips to brush his against yours. “For eternity.” That made your breath hitch in your throat and your heart skip a beat. Seeing the blood rushing beneath your skin, perfuming it, Morpheus smirked and kissed you again. You could have sworn that you tasted starlight, or even dreams themselves as the Dream Lord kissed you. It was like getting lost in a sea of dreams, its gentle waves brushing against your skin and caressing your body.
But as lost as you felt in the soothing and bewitching lulls, nothing compared to the feeling of Morpheus’ inhumanly beautiful body brushing against yours as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forwards. A low moan departed your lips, sweet and dripping with a melodic quality that made the Endless tremble above you. And so you fell into a molten mess of pleasure beneath Morpheus, your hands barely clinging to him. His own hungrily worked over your body, brushing tantalizing curves, squeezing them, imprinting his touch upon your body.
Hand wrapping around your thigh, Morpheus hiked your hip up against his and pressed deeper into your body. Another whimper bubbled up from your throat. Surely it was a mix a of pleasure and discomfort that held you in its intimate grasp, snaking tendrils of addicting ecstasy around your mind until it had you within its grasp. You were nearly choking on it. Head turning to the side, your eyes caught starry black ones while your face pressed against Morpheus’. When his hips crashed into yours and sparked a crescendo of lighting through your body your lips parted with a cry, and he took that invitation.
Morpheus’ lips took yours by storm, his tongue seeking out yours while he swallowed your beautiful cry and endeavored to draw more from your. It was all so beautiful. Your lush body beneath his, so soft and warm. Your dizzying and desirous scent that bewitched his mind and ensnared his thirst. Your cunt squeezing ever so tightly around his throbbing cock while he repeatedly thrust into you. Never before was there a more beautiful sight before him. Even as you panted against his rabid kisses, struggling to breathe beneath his tongue and cock, the Endless still sought more.
Perhaps it was his way of distracting himself from the thick and delicious vitality thrumming just beneath the skin of your neck, so close to his mouth. Or perhaps it was finding out that your physical bodily pleasure was just as divine as your blood. Morpheus wanted you so terribly that he would reign hellfire upon anyone who dared to think to lead you from his side.
Your mouth broke free from his as you rasped for air and bucked your hips into the ones repeatedly crashing into yours. Shifting the leg Morpheus held firmly against his side, you dug your heel into his lower back and clung harder. What sweet and blissful ecstasy you felt, and yet, hew was still holding back. What more did you have to do to drag the entirety of this gorgeous being out? Tears hit your shoulder and you buried your free hand into his hair, tugging on the strands.
“Do it,” You rasped in between heavy pants. “Do it, I know you want to, I know you need to,” You pressed, nearly at the point of shoving his mouth against your neck until he took what you new he has thirsted over for so long. “Please stop starving yourself!” You practically begged. No, you did beg, for you would do so until he stopped starving himself and took what he wanted. You wanted him. He wanted you. Why didn’t he see that? Saline nipped at your eyelashes as emotions clashed with physical pleasure and you began to shake. “Morpheus, Morpheus please,”
The Endless had the goddess of temptation naked and beneath him, and begging. No matter how much control he had over himself, Morpheus could no longer hold back his insatiable hunger for you. Lips paring, his incisors descended just as his mouth sealed over the place on your neck and sang ever so sweetly to him. A pained squeak followed by a whimper erupted from you the moment teeth broke flesh, and Morpheus moaned as your hot lifeblood filled his mouth. The pain you felt from his bite was ever so brief, lasting but a mere millisecond before unadulterated pleasure took over and heightened what you were already feeling.
Choking on your neck breath of oxygen, a wheeze passed your lips when pleasure filled ever nook and cranny your body had. Your cunt clamped down around Morpheus’ cock, holding him deep within your body. Rippling and forcing you to experience the most intense feeling of ecstasy you had ever felt, you were trapped within your own body and unable to do anything as your mind spun. You were oblivious to Morpheus’ own ecstasy and orgasm, the sounds he made as he drank your precious blood. Oblivious to his seed which filled your body in a territorial claim. Oblivious to the fact that after this night? You would never be leaving the Dreaming. But you didn’t care for in that moment, you felt you were exactly where you both wanted, and needed, to be.
A shudder went through your body as it fell lax and your limbs flopped to the soft silken sheets beneath you. Your mind still felt like it was floating and your body still basked in pleasure when Morpheus forced himself to stop drinking from your precious vitality, smearing your ruby blood along his lips and chin. He licked the wounds on your neck closed before lifting his head to urgently look at your face. To ensure the you were well.
You had a dazed look in your eyes, and your body trembled beneath him. Warmth seeping from the space where your were still connected. You didn’t react to the blood on his face, your blood, neither did you react to the ache in your neck. Fresh and staining. No, you were only focused on how beautifully gorgeous this Endless being was above you. You raised a hand and placed in on the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours for a kiss. The metallic tang of your blood upon his lips don’t bother you as you licked it away and kissed him deeper. You finally had what you wanted and it was addictingly sweet. Pleasurable.
Morpheus brought his own hand to your jaw, cradling your face as he drank sweetness from your lips and basked in the visceral pleasure that ricocheted within his being. Perfect. You were so perfect. And his. All his. One hundred years of captivity was nothing compared to an eternity of you by his side. After all, just one sip, was never going to be enough.
Date Published: 6/13/23
Last Edit: 6/13/23
Previous | Masterlist
There's a huge difference between redemption and humanization. I feel like a lot of "redemption arcs" aren't actually redemption at all, they're just attempts to humanize the villain so that they seem multi-faceted, but people read them as "redemption arcs" and think that that is meant to justify all the evil they've done before and negate whatever made them a villain in the first place. I think true "redemption arcs" are actually kind of rare because true redemption would take making the villain acknowledge their crimes, reevaluate their actions, actively choose to do better, and then proceed to make amends and become a better person, and that would this take more time than most stories are allowed to give their characters.
I've also seen people argue that a character has to be poised for redemption from the jump for it to work because once a character does something "too bad", they can't be redeemed. I completely disagree because redemption isn't justification or forgiveness, so no matter how horrible a character's actions, they could choose to become better, but because a lot of people (including writers) think redemption means "erasing the character's flaws and making it so they did nothing wrong ever", a lot of attempted "redemption arcs" just end up erasing a character's entire history or justifying every evil thing they've ever done. And yeah, in these cases, the only way to make a character go from a villain to a perfect cinnamon roll with no flaws *is* to have been planning it from the beginning and make sure they never do anything that can't be explained away later.
TLDR: real redemption arcs require a lot of self-awareness, patience, and growth, which are things that are rarely actually allocated to villains, and that's why real redemption arcs almost never get executed. The reason people think redemption arcs are overdone is because there are so many attempts to either humanize a villain that get misconstrued as redemption or attempts to blatantly erase who a character was in the name of "redemption", which is really just poor character development.
So... I found this and now it keeps coming to mind. You hear about "life-changing writing advice" all the time and usually its really not—but honestly this is it man.
I'm going to try it.
Heart of the Dreaming
Morpheus x Female Reader
Soulmate AU
You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.
{Masterlist}
{Next Chapter}
Chapter One - See you in my dreams
☆☆☆
1916 - 11 years old
Tonight was the night.
Tonight was the night your father was going to summon Death and try and bring your older brother back.
You were sitting in your room, on the edge of the bed, hands restlessly placed in your lap as you can hear the clock ticking away. You were nervous. Of course you were. This plan was crazy, but your father was crazy enough to go through with this.
Of course you missed your brother. He was better than you and Alex in every way, but he loved you both. Rodrick certainly loved him better than his other children. When he died, your father seemed to only hate you even more.
You could hear everyone bustling about the house. The book your father had been waiting for had arrived. Tonight he would attempt the impossible. At least, impossible by your standards.
No one could capture Death.
Death was inevitable and came for everyone. Even your brother. That was just the truth of it. There was not a spell in the world that could being him back.
You were not allowed to leave your room, despite the fact Alex, who was younger than you, was permitted to watch. It didn't seem fair. Even if you believed the matter to be impossible, why couldn't you witness the attempt?
At some point, the house grows quiet. You sit there with nothing but the sound of your soft breathing to keep you company. Your eyes focused on the door.
The silence was becoming deafening.
Had they done it?
You climb off your bed and open your door. At first, you don't see or hear anyone. The house seemed empty, but after a few more moments, you can hear voices and footsteps. You stand in the doorway of your bedroom and watch as many of your father's men go past talking too quickly for you to understand what they're saying.
You look down the hall and see your father walking to his study, a peculiar item in his hand. Alex comes into view and looks at you for a moment. You want to go over and ask what happened, but his name gets called and he hurries off.
A sense of something bad sets in your bones.
☆☆☆
You're in bed when you hear knocking on your door. It's quiet and hesitant, as if the other person wasn't supposed to be here. You climb out of bed and head to the door, opening it slightly. You see Alex standing there.
Alex comes into your room and closes the door behind him quickly. He looks at you with big eyes, worry embedded in them.
"What happened?" You ask him.
Alex walks over to your bed and takes a seat. He looks down at his slippers. "I think he did it."
"He did?" You look at Alex with wide eyes.
"Well... there's something down there..." Alex tells you, voice quiet. You swallow nervously.
Something.
"Death?"
Alex shakes his head. "No... I don't think so. I heard father talking to someone in his office, but I couldn't hear everything."
"What did you hear?" You ask, eager to know what had happened.
"Something about dreams."
"Dreams?" You had no idea what that meant.
Alex simply shrugged and looked up at you. "I'm afraid."
"Will it hurt us?"
"I don't know... I hope not. I didn't get to look at it for very long."
Silence fell between you both. You weren't sure what else to ask. All you knew was that your father had successfully caught something down in the basement, and you were too scared to even dig deeper.
Alex left your room, leaving you more questions than answers. However, for now, it felt better to leave it like that.
☆☆☆
1926 - 21 years old
Rodrick never mentioned the demon in his basement. You never asked about it, no matter how curious you got. You had heard the whispers. Everyone called it a demon, which frightened you even more.
You had done your utmost to forget about the thing in the basement. The stories were enough to put you off going down there. Even the people in town talked about Rodrick's demon.
He became something of a celebrity.
However, the world was suffering.
Dreams. Alex had told you Rodrick and his stranger in the office had spoken about dreams. As it turned out, some people could no longer sleep, some couldn't ever wake up. Dreams became a thing of tale, none existent.
Except for the ones you had been having.
You hadn't told anyone. Not even Alex. Your dreams were yours. Your secret. Your strange mysterious secret.
You dream of a man.
It's dark, but you can see him. He's sitting there, naked. He is expressionless. He never speaks. He just sits there with his legs up, arms around his knees, and staring forward.
You don't know his name.
Every night, you see him in your dreams. He seems to be trapped. Unable to go anywhere. You wonder if he's hungry and cold. He must be.
"Who are you?"
You always wake up right after that.
Every night, he's there in your dreams. It's strangely comforting. He's your secret. You just wish you knew who he was.
As you leave your room today, you see Alex leaving the office with a shotgun in hand. You frown as you look at him, catching a glimpse of your father in the office.
"What are you doing?" You ask him.
"I'm going to shoot a bird." Alex responds, though not so happily.
You stare at him hard. "A bird?"
"A raven," Alex says.
"Huh?"
"I'm off to kill his raven."
"Who's raven?"
Alex looked at you with an empty stare. He clutches the shotgun in his fist tight. Alex knew you had never seen the man in the basement. Rodrick had kept it that way. He had always said you were more trouble than you were worth.
"The thing in the basement."
Alex didn't say anything more as he left the house. You were confused by everything. Nothing made any sense to you.
You wanted to know what your father was keeping down there. Yet, fear consumed you. Was it dangerous?
Why did it have a raven? That confused the most.
It was half an hour later when you heard a gunshot. You had been in your room, staying out of the way as usual. The sound echoed through the house and scared you. You rushed to the door and looked down the hall. Alex and your father emerged from the basement. Alex looked lost.
You wanted to go over and ask what had happened, but Rodrick spots you watching and you retreat into your room.
☆☆☆
A few days go by where you don't see much of Rodrick or Alex. You do your best to avoid them as much as possible. Which was probably for the best as far as Rodrick was concerned.
Ethel, your father's mistress, was pregnant. He didn't want it. Of course he didn't.
Having so much time to yourself gave you time to think. Your dreams were consistent. Every night, you saw the naked man in his glass prison. Just sitting there, waiting.
Waiting for what? You did not know.
However, you wanted to help him. You wanted to understand him. You just didn't know who he was, or where he was.
That night, Ethel ran away. While you were tucked up in your bed sleeping, visiting your dream man, Ethel had run away with the tools, and some money from Rodrick's safe.
She was gone.
Rodrick was furious.
From what you heard, he tried to bargain with the being in the basement. When he got no response, Rodrick turned his anger to Alex. Had heard the yelling. You had wanted to go down there and see what was happening, but the guard at the door was stopping you.
That's when it happened.
Alex pushed Rodrick, and your father hit his head quite badly. He did not get up again.
The funeral was a week later.
☆☆☆
1931 - 25 years old
The house was too quiet these days. Alex spent most of his time avoiding you. You tried to occupy yourself with your hobbies, but there was a voice in the back of your head nagging at you.
The basement.
It was still guarded. Alex kept it that way. However, you knew times when the door wasn't guarded. There wasn't anyone there 24/7. Some of the guards like to slack off.
You had decided. You were going to go down there. After all this time, you wanted to know what your father had captured that day. You wanted to know the reason your father had been so successful and popular with people in town.
You wanted to know why things were the way they were.
You waited. The guard left as usual. He always disappeared for 15 minutes on his shifts. 30 if he thought he could get away with being away that long. This was your chance to get down there.
You were quiet as you moved down the hall. You weren't sure exactly where Alex was at this time of night. You needed to be careful. You double-checked to make sure no one was around and unlocked the door to the basement. You had been planning this for weeks. You knew the codes and the schedules for the guards. You knew someone else would normally be down there, but never at this time of night. That's why the guard thought he could get away with disappearing for so long.
You looked down the dark stairs and took a moment before going through with your plan. Finally, you would see what was down there.
You descend the stairs.
It was dark. Lighting was kept to a minimum, it seemed. You were careful as you took each step and soon enough found yourself at the bottom.
What you saw was not what you expected.
You slowly reach out and open the gate, taking in the sight before you. A large glass globe surrounded by the summoning circle your father had made years ago. Inside the globe was a man.
A man.
A very familiar man.
You feel like all air from your lungs is stolen from you as you stare at him. Your dream man. There he was! Naked and curled up by himself inside his prison.
All this time, you were dreaming of the man in the basement. You find yourself stepping a little closer, not sure what to do. Nothing made sense. This was impossible. How can you be dreaming about this man? And why is he trapped like this?
Who is he?
Sensing your presence, he looks up. In those next few seconds, several things happen. Your eyes connect with his, and you find yourself lost in them. A searing pain crosses your wrist, and you gasp loudly, cradling your hand. You drop your gaze from him to look at the red scar on your wrist. When you look back up, he's cradling his own hand but doesn't seem to be in pain like you.
You stare at him.
He stares at you.
"Who are you?" You ask.
The man in the globe moves slowly, leaning forward slightly. He's keeping himself covered, but he's still moving toward the glass. With one hand, he reaches out, hand dressed against the glass of his prison.
You feel strange. At ease. It was like he was trying to calm you from within his prison.
"Who are you?" You ask again.
You watch as he part his lips, prepared to speak, but a voice behind you speaks instead, leaving you in shock and embarrassment for getting caught in the basement.
"What are you doing down here?" Alex asks.
You frown. "I came to see what was down here! You can't keep me in the dark forever."
Alex pulls you behind him as he looks at the man in the cage. "You have to stay away from him."
"Alex--"
"No! He's dangerous. I think..."
You push past Alex and stand between him and the other man. You glare at your brother. Alex looks at you with mixed confused and disappointment.
"Who is he? What is he?"
Alex says your name.
"No! Tell me. What is all this? What did father do?"
Alex clenches his fist at his side and takes a deep breath. "You need to leave. Get out of here."
"Why is there a man trapped in the basement, Alex?"
Alex loses his patience with you and lunges forward, grabbing your arm tightly. You try to fight him off, but he wraps both his arms around you, restraining your arms.
"Alex! Let go of me!"
"You shouldn't have come down here," he says angrily.
From within his prison, Morpheus stands. He doesn't like what he's seeing. You. You had been living in this house all along, and he had no idea. Now you were here, you had come to see him, and you were being dragged out again.
Alex called for help, and two people came running. Paul and the guard should have been on duty. Morpheus leans against the glass with both hands as he watches Alex demand you get removed from the basement. The two men take hold of you and start dragging you back upstairs, all the while you're ahouing at Alex.
Alex turns and looks at him.
"Don't you ever speak to her. Don't you ever do anything to her." Alex demands. "She was never supposed to see you..."
Alex leaves.
Morpheus sinks back down in his prison and curls up again. His hands ball into fists as he stares ahead of him.
His soulmate had been here all along.
He needed to get out.
He needed to save you from this house.
He turns his hand over and looks at his wrist. A small scar in the shape of a star. He had had it forever. He ran his thumb over it. He knew from the moment he looked at you, from the moment you received your scar, that you were his soulmate.
It was unheard of for an Endless to have such a thing, but Dream had always been unique. If anyone wasn't going to be granted a partner for eternity, it was going to be him.
Not that he was actively looking. Morpheus had had lovers before, certainly, but knowing you're right there above him, it changes things.
You were real.
They only let go of you once you're in your room. Alex closes the door on you and you hear him lock you in. You bang against the door furiously and then stop, sobbing as you sink to the floor.
None of this was making any sense to you.
Did Alex know something?
Who was that man?
And why did your wrist still burn?
☆☆☆
@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker
@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic
@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda
@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever
For you I'd steal the stars<3
I just planned another book with my patented method:
The Easiest, Hardest Outline You'll Ever Try.
Works every time.
PS: Want a text version of this post? Click here!
What’s writing, you know? What does writing actually mean?
So I just used ChatGPT for feedback for a writing piece. Just pasted the piece in and said 'critique this piece please'. (I have no-one else to get feedback from who I want to read this).
Since when is AI so.......so? ;-;
(I don't agree with AI being a replacement for a real person, this was just a spur of 'I want feedback').
Tag your villain!
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