Circling Vs. Zigzagging Conflicts

"I just wish people would be more careful what they post here" AO3 is a site where lots of lots of people have written dark variants of good people/beings, and even more people read them and enjoy that stuff.

I wouldn't take the comment too hard, love and I wouldn't take is as criticism either. Good criticism sees what's in the story and helps you enhance or improve it (even things such as dark elements).

I think the commentor might have just been a poor pure soul who stumbled across the fic, for whatever reason decided to read it and didn't like what they read, which is down to just their interests.

They're on AO3 and you were very, very clear in the tags with what was expected in your story (reread those tags just to confirm that).

If you want to make people extra aware, maybe put a warning/disclaimer underneath your summary like: 'This story contains dark elements, please heed the tags.' because sometimes people for whatever skip over the tags. But see tags they like so they decide to read the story but don't see other tags which would warn them about things they may not like.

This commentor:

everyone else:

Dotie Rambles

I got an AO3 comment today on my fic A Small Act of Kindness that said "why would write Dream this way he is a good character, and I normally don't leave comments if I don't like the fic, I don't read it, but this fic upset me and this is not an attack on you, I just wish people would be more careful what they post here" those are just some of the things I could remember because I removed it immediately lol and one other thing where it was a waste of my writing abilities etc

Listen I know Dream of the Endless is a beloved character and despite his many flaws, he is in his heart, a character that cares deeply and tries to do good especially after that 100-year-long confinement.

That being said, I am torn between thinking ah maybe I didn't put enough tags on or maybe I could've been more specific with my summary and on the other hand, thinking I write what I want to write and I'm not at all attacking his character, that's just how I wanted to write him because...I can???

I like writing dark fics and dark characters, and maybe this type of feedback comes with the territory?

Like, is that a bad thing lol and no hate to that commenter and those who don't like their beloved characters portrayed in a darker manner, I get her point, I just want to know what I missed here because I'm new to writing fanfiction and this is the first comment I got in that vein...I'm probably not handling it too well either, am I?? 😅

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

Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

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From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

-

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

What Is Showing vs. Telling Anyway?

When I decided to get serious about writing, I wrote short stories that meant something to me. Then I let people read them, but not just anyone. I picked people who knew a thing or two about craft. English teachers, the adults in my life who recommended books to me, and a lady who became a beloved writing tutor.

Those people challenged things like my sentence structure and word choices, but my writing tutor told me to show my stories, not to tell them.

I bristled. I was already showing them! That’s creative writing! If I wanted to tell my stories, I’d just say them out loud.

She clarified—in words that flew right over my head. My brain fuzzed out and I couldn’t grasp what she was saying, but I was embarrassed, so I nodded like I understood. It took me a while longer to get the hang of things by writing more (some terrible, some good) stories where I played around with my descriptions, narration, word choices, and themes.

Finally, years later, I understood.

Showing is describing the sensory details of your story. It’s diving into the emotional depth of your characters. It’s making the reader feel like they’re watching a movie while they’re reading your work.

Telling is more like narration. There’s no flowery language or sensory descriptions. It’s straightforward, clean, and nearly professional in nature.

Why Is “Telling” Normally a Bad Thing?

Clean-cut narration isn’t always terrible. Sometimes it works well for stories told by a narrator with dry humor or books about an intensely serious subject.

Most of the time though, “telling” keeps readers at arms-length. Picture yourself reading a history book. Each page gives you the facts. It might also describe a historical figure or the gory details of a war, but making those people or moments come to life in your mind isn’t the point of the text. It’s to convey information.

That’s what makes stories that rely on “telling” so different from stories that “show” everything.

Examples of Telling

If you’re like me, you’re probably thinking that it would be easier to picture the difference between these two concepts if there were examples. Lucky for you, I’ve already thought of that.

Example 1: I’m happy to see my best friend at school.

The narrator conveys their emotion, but not what that emotion makes them feel. There’s nothing to paint a picture of the school or even the friend.

Example 2: Henry didn’t like his dinner.

Cool, the character didn’t enjoy their food. Why? What was the taste or texture like? What did he experience that made him recognize the feeling of not enjoying the meal?

Example 3: Sofia made her bed in a hurry.

Why she was in a hurry might come in the next sentence or paragraph, but what did she feel while making that bed? What was her thought process? What’s her room like?

Examples of Showing

Let’s turn those same examples into sentences that “show.”

Example 1: I walk through the clustered school hallways with the rest of the student body, smelling their pre-exam nervous sweat and too much men’s body spray. This school would be miserable, except for my best friend. When I spot her by my dented locker, the smile on her face makes the cold bus ride to school worth it.

This is obviously more than a sentence, but notice how you get a better experience from it. The school hallways are crowded and smell bad. The protagonist doesn’t enjoy where they attend class. However, their best friend is a source of happiness. She waits by a dented metal locker, possibly with some good news, encouragement or an exciting update to something happening in the protagonist’s life. It makes you want to know what she’s going to say, especially because you can relate to what the main character is feeling.

Example 2: Henry’s nose scrunched up at the taste of his dinner. The chicken was in a desperate need for salt. This never would have happened if he had been allowed to make it.

We’ve all had a similar reaction to eating bad food. Your nose scrunches up, your mouth tightens, your tongue freezes. This example shows that in a way that you can feel yourself going through the same physical motions. It also explains why the food is bad using one of the five senses—it’s not salted enough.

Example 3: Sofia pulled her purple comforter tight against her headboard and threw her pillow at it as she ran out the door, late for the bus again.

More scenery details—the bed has a headboard and the comforter is purple. The protagonist is in a rush so her pillow is likely lopsided on the bed, which means the rest of her room is probably a bit messy too. The visual details make this a vivid scene and introduce the reader to a few of Sofia’s relatable character attributes.

How to Spot the Difference

I began to tell the difference by imagining myself reading a single sentence out loud. If I read any of the examples above before the “showing” edits, you’d have questions for me. See if a sentence, paragraph, or page makes you ask yourself:

What emotions does the protagonist feel right now?

How does the main character look through their body language?

What can the protagonist smell, taste, or feel?

What does the environment look like and is it necessary to describe it at this moment?

Does this scene need dialogue?

Do the characters feel flat?

Where’s the story’s hook?

The last question is tricky. The hook will be at the start of a short story or shortly within it, much like how a hook is within or at the end of the first chapter in a novel. If your writing doesn’t compel you to keep reading, it’s likely lacking the emotional depth that showing provides.

When Showing Goes Overboard

It’s always possible to have too much showing. It leads to the discussion English teachers always have about how Victor Hugo wrote for numerous pages about a single room in a chapter.

You could also fall into the trap of inserting flowery language into your work that you wouldn’t normally use, all for the sake of “painting a picture.” Your writing is your voice! It’s unique to you—how you speak, how you think, how you express yourself through stories. Write what comes naturally to you while keeping scenery, emotional depth, and sensory details in mind. If your words seem boring, that’s what editing is for (after you finish and step back from your work for a bit!).

Lose Yourself in Your Stories

“Showing” gets easier when you can lose yourself in whatever story you’re currently writing. If you’re struggling to do that, you might want to write in a quieter environment or put more details into your story or character outlines.

Have fun practicing this art form and you’ll watch your writing skills grow.

Seven years after, I see you again 😚

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again. 

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

Also, what do you think of making this a two-shot with SMUTTY goodness?? hmmm the thots, they plague meeeee

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

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I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists, the reality of everything.

- Virginia Woolf