Wishful Drinking

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

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

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

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

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

Wishful Drinking

Listen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then shots had been ordered.

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

And you bought yourself two drinks.

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

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

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

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

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

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

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

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

But that’s not what happens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

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

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

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

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

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

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

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

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

“You put yourself in this state?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

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

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

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

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

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t think you ever will.

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

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

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

“Always,” he promises.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

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

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

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

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Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Neutral (unspecified now, however fem leaning)

Warnings: Minor angst (hints of Morpheus’s past), mutual pinning, some fluff, hints of bloodlust

Chapter 1 and future chapters to come!

Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)
Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)
Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)

After a week of working in the manor, you quickly found routine in your new life. It was far easier than anticipated, although somewhat tiring at points. And despite exploring the manor, you still tended to become lost or forgetful where certain rooms were. It was massive to say the least, but you adored the architecture, the different colors and styles of each room, and the obvious love - even if slightly dusty due to negligence - poured into it. Two rooms in particular captured your interest and attention: the upstairs library, and the sunroom.

The sunroom was magical. The glass - a soft sea green - dome roof sparkled in any and all lighting. On sunny days, it was as if the heavens rained down on this secret cove. Plants of all colors and variety outlined the room from vibrant dark green ferns - nearly an envious green - to signature staple of the manor’s passionate red roses as well as strong and proud sunflowers, delicate lilacs, and the intricate petals of the blushing pink carnations. Fern leaves as large as dinner plates bent towards the doorways like curtains. You could not help but imagine you were an explorer traversing the jungle as you entered.

In the center, a couch, two chairs, and a table were set out. However, there was a very obvious empty space for furniture to be pushed aside. The true beauty of the room was it could double as a ballroom if needed. You could see where a musician could sit, you could imagine a dozen people dancing in unison, you could feel the air crackle with potential energy. When you walked the pristine tile floor sang with every step of your shoe, heels clacked and echoed like a chorus; imagining a group of people in here, and oh how the room would harmonize.

The library, on the other hand, was quaint and far less grandiose compared to the sunroom. Yet, it held its own type of magic, one of comfort and warmth. It was draped in rich dark browns, glowing oranges of the sun and lanterns, and overall warm tones. The walls had built-in shelves and overflowed with books. A single thin window with a nook to sit and read by sunlight was nestled between two shelves. Two long wooden tables with chairs were placed in the room, almost more of studying than reading comfortably.

The air in the library was calmer, and gentle like an escape, or a brief pause on life. If you strolled over to the collection of books, most were published from Morpheus’s company ‘The Dreamer’s Palace’. Which wasn’t too surprising, but the library held many other books from the popular to the unknown. Every genre filled the shelves: drama, contemporary, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, nonfiction, mythology, and poetry. You had worlds at your fingertips and each of them called to you.

When you had time, you would eventually borrow a book, with Morpheus’s permission of course. Maybe you could take the book and lounge in the sunroom, now that sounded like a lovely idea.

However, you supposed there was another place besides the sunroom and library to entertain you and your thoughts. You desperately wished to explore the ground, especially the maze. The rose maze enthralled you. The hedges must be ten feet tall, barring all from sneaking a single glance in. The full, perfect lush red roses filled the hedges and dazzled in the sunlight while somehow seemingly glowed in the moonlight. With the moon above, they tempted you like some Greek tragedy. The maze was your labyrinth. Maybe a monster lurked among the roses, maybe you would become lost and lose your sense of self, or maybe it was simply just a maze.

One day.

One day, you would run freely through the hedges and happily lose yourself amongst them.

Late in the morning, Morpheus had requested some tea. If it wasn’t in the morning after what you expected a long night, then he requested afternoon tea for one last boost to finish the day. Light seemed to always shine under the crack of his door. His footsteps creaked along the home constantly even as you laid still in bed.

Maneuvering up the stairs, you carefully balanced a kettle and a tea cup with a saucer. Stepping onto the second floor, you immediately veered left. Morpheus’s study was the first door. You knocked, announcing yourself. His reply was muffled, but allowed you in.

Opening the door, Morpheus was hunched over his desk. Stacks of paper covered his desk, with his pen scratching away editing and making revision notes on a new manuscript. A dying fire crackled as embers burned a reddish orange hue casting the room in a radiating warmth. The curtains were opened showing off the dreary morning. Rain tapped against the window, adding to the ambiance.

You beelined for Morpheus. You efficiently, as possible, set up his tea in the small corner space free of papers. Morpheus - who had been watching not just since you walked in, but since you first arrived - wondered about something that had been bothering him for a few days. The scratching of his pen seized, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye. “May I ask you a question?”

You paused as you set up his tea. It was one of the few other times he addressed you, besides your first interaction and occasionally calling for tea. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you poured his tea. “Of course, sir.”

He laid down his pen, and turned his head to address you. His eyes - an enchanting pale blue in such dim lighting - locked with yours. “You are not afraid of me.”

You stepped back from him, having finished your assigned task. The kettle left besides his cup if he wished to have more later. You folded your hands in front of you with the empty tray in your hands. His sentence tossed over and over in your head. You frowned slightly in thought, “That is not a question.”

The corner of his lips twitched upward. “You are correct, apologies. I suppose I was more inquiring about your opinion.”

“On what?”

“Myself, and said rumors that circulate the manor.”

You didn’t need time to think. Most people warned you of this place whether directly or indirectly. “The townspeople have their beliefs and I have mine.”

“So you have no care for the matter?”

“I can form my own opinions.” You cocked your head quizzically, “I’m sorry, but did Lucienne not inform you of my answer? She asked a similar question during the interview.”

“She did, but I wish to hear it from you especially given you have been staying with us for more than over a week now.” He twisted his body in his chair, facing you directly. He gave you his full undivided attention. “So what are your opinions? What do you think of the rumors?”

You paused, considering his question. “Do you want my honest opinion, sir?”

You had your opinions. Ones that had been slowly formulating since your arrival, ones that may be an unpleasant truth to hear.

“I do.” He saw the hesitation written plainly on your face. “You can be blunt.”

You nodded, and sighed releasing any tension. “If you wish -“ you cleared your throat - “the way I see it you revel in said rumors. You can easily dispel them by ingraining yourself more into society, but you don’t. You do the donations, you have the well liked bookshop, but you do not show your face. Either you isolate yourself to protect yourself, or because you believe you deserve it - deserve the isolation.”

Morpheus hummed, utterly fascinated by your answer. “Truly? And what do you think? Why would I sever my connection to society?”

Your eyes dragged up and down over his body - you were dissecting him. Morpheus noted how a change came over you. You were not a servant, head bowed, but an equal with a sharp eye. You were clever, far more clever than you let on. A mask had momentarily slipped. “Because you deserve it or so you believe.”

He nodded. You may have indulged a mere facet of his curiosity, but somehow stirred more within this one conversation. He turned back to his work, “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Is there anything else you need, sir?” You smiled, and your tone suggested a hint of teasing, “Any other of my opinions you wish to know?”

His smile was hidden from you. “No, thank you.”

“Of course.” You bowed and swiftly left.

“And do not feel frightened to share your honesty.” He spoke the next sentence softly, whispering, “I enjoy it.”

You paused at the door. A faint flutter hummed in your chest. “If you wish, sir.”

I do, he thought.

You turned your head, glancing back once more. He had returned to his work. Your mind thought back on the conversation, on Morpheus’s self imposed isolation. You opened your mouth, only to quickly close it and simply left. As the door softly clicked shut, Morpheus put his head into his hands.

A mortal.

A foolish mortal who had unknowingly walked into the lion’s den. His thirst rose when you walked by, and the smell of you now imbued his home. Before he remembered a time when his thirst could be quelled for months at a time, unbothered or unaffected by hunger. But now as you freely roamed his halls, he could barely go a few days without feeling its intense and paralyzing effects. The taste of human blood has not touched his lips in nearly a century.

Idiot, he thought. Why did I allow this?

“I believe it would do you some good sir,” Lucienne pressed. She had approached her lord, proposing to introduce a servant, more so a cleaning servant, into the manor. Or more accurately cornered him in his study.

Morpheus huffed under his breath. “Lucienne, I respect you and your opinions, however, this is ridiculous and out of the question.”

“Lord Morpheus, you need to try more or dare we have another fiasco such as the last manor.”

Ah, yes, how could he forget.

He had gotten complacent in his solitude. He kept to himself, and worked on new stories that continued to be sent in from all over. He only cared about his work, and nothing else.

No. That was incorrect.

No, he was purposely drowning himself in it; all to forget the painful heartache. No, he had not gotten complacent in solitude, he had gotten complacent in his endless grief. Let the people gossip, he bitterly thought. Let them believe in the monster. He did not care for his world were these dingy walls with the ghost roaming amongst them.

But, a strange man who lived on the outskirts of town stirred vile imaginations. After a decade and possibly longer of living - in what Morpheus ignorantly believed to be peace - the townspeople charged one night forcing everyone to flee.

He had to rebuild.

He had to remake himself in this new town. He had hoped his donations would soothe the townspeople, but mortals were weary of newcomers and indulged in their superstitions far too often.

Even if their intuitions were right most of the time.

A tap on the window broke Morpheus out of his thoughts, his memories. Through the haze of the night, a small black mass was perched on the window sill. Morpheus wordlessly strolled over and opened the window. A bird, a raven specifically, swooped in and landed on the desk.

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” Morpheus asked, facing the raven.

The raven shuffled, his talons clacked against the wood. “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Merv is asking for something for the pain again. He says his supply is almost out.”

Morpheus’s features softened, a miniscule change. “Okay, tell Merv I will send for more immediately.”

Matthew nodded, but he did not move.

“Is there something else you need?” Morpheus asked, raising his eyebrow.

Matthew sighed, sinking a bit. “I may or may not have been listening to yours and Lucienne’s conversation.”

Morpheus’s lips thinned, not angered Matthew was listening - it was nothing new - but because he knew Matthew would side with Lucienne. “And what do you think of the matter then?”

“Well,” he drawled out, “I have been visiting the town a bit, and some of the people have begun to talk and they’re not too … happy.”

Morpheus barely contained his eye roll. “I have done all I can to appease them, if they want to make speculations then let them. I don’t harm them in any capacity.”

It was true. His diet these days consisted solely of animals.

“Maybe an appearance at the bookshop then,” Lucienne suggested. “But, I still urge you to hire someone. If others see someone unharmed in your care then it would lessen the problem.”

“I will not bring a stranger into my home just so mortals can stop gossiping.”

“If not for you then for us, for the manor. We already had to run once.”

Morpheus frowned.

Lucienne cautiously stepped forward. “You opened your door to me - for Mervyn, and Matthew - you brought in a stranger once before.”

“That was different. This will be a mortal, Lucienne.”

“And do you not trust yourself, or do you not want a repeat?”

Morpheus’s shoulders tensed. An intense, chilling, glare settled into his eyes. His eyes glowed ominously like a feral animal. “Lucienne, I will ask you once to not bring that up again.”

Lucienne stepped back, but did not look away. She held her ground in a way. “Apologies, sir, but I do not want to find a new place so soon.”

Matthew chirped up, disliking the heavy tension in the room. He flapped his wings to turn all the attention onto him. “And it would be nice for you, boss. The manor has been gathering dust, so it would be good for all of us, right?”

Morpheus closed his eyes then exhaled slowly. Opening his eyes, they had returned to a normal shade. “Fine.”

“What?” Matthew muttered, stunned.

“Bring someone in, do what you must.” He turned his back. “If we can survive another decade here peacefully then do so. I don’t want to start again so quickly.”

“Of course, sir, thank you.” Lucienne bowed her head and left as Matthew swooped after her.

Look at all the good it has done, Morpheus thought.

Morpheus was confined to these walls with you lurking around. You were haunting him, and you reminded him of -

He shook away those memories. He had a new ghost in his home and he had to deal with this unfortunate reality. This wasn’t about him, this was about Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn. They were lucky last time to escape before the home burned, but luck always ran out. If people discovered the truth, if they came in the night unheard, he couldn’t forgive himself for anything that would happen to his friends - his family.

This was his family unlike the one born from blood.

Meanwhile as you strolled away from Morpheus’s study, your thoughts were tangled together. He was odd. Polite, yes. But, odd. He created a wedge between him and most; a wedge you clearly saw. In the short time you were living here, it was becoming obvious who Lord Morpheus was: a tortured soul. But, why? What drove him to this state? If you were to continue to live here, you would find out.

Curiosity was powerful, and you had your reasonings to do so.

Taking the tray to the kitchen, you once again passed by another oddity in the manor: the plain wooden door under the stairs. Earlier in your adventures of the manor, you tried to open it to no avail.

“I wouldn’t keep trying if I were you.” You whirled around - panicked you had been caught - and thankfully only saw Lucienne. She smiled, a joking smile, at your reaction. Her eyes darted to the lock door. “It leads to the basement where the plumbing goes.”

You frowned, disappointed.

“Sorry, I know it’s not as wondrous as you might think.” She strolled forwards, eyes kept on the door. “But I assure you, it’s not pleasant down there. It’s damp and dark with old pipes.”

Her eyes flickered over, locking with yours. She peered over her glasses to ensure she looked at you directly. ‘Don’t’ was all her eyes said.

“I suppose the wonders of plumping is something I’m not too keen about,” you chuckled lightly.

Her smile softened, and laughed along with you. “No, I don’t think most are. Now, if you excuse me, I was going to get a drink.”

She skirted by you towards the kitchen. Once, she was down the hall and out of sight, your eyes swiveled back to the door. Only one thought ran through your mind: she’s lying. You pressed your hand to the door. In your chest, deep within your bones, something hummed on the other side.

Stepping back, you searched and no one was around. If not today, but one day you will see what was behind that door. A voice told you to be cautious in your curiosity, but to also not let it die out. Trust your gut. And your gut needed the door to be opened to reveal all its secrets.

You paused, running your hand over the grain of the wood. The hum still called out. Similar to how you swore to uncover the secrets of a Morpheus, this door fell under it as well. This manor reeked of secrets and lies. It did not frightened you, not in the least. It compelled you. And the rumors only spurred your thirst for knowledge.

But, today was not the day. All of this required a touch of patience.

A skill you honed over the years.

Brushing past, you made your way into the kitchen dropping off the tray. Glancing out the window, the late rainy morning reminded you of all the hours you still had left in the day. You sighed.

Now, what should I do?

The rest of the day you decided to busy yourself with cleaning the kitchen. Most of the appliances were new, and strangely did not seem to be used as frequently since some dust had collected on them, much like the rest of the manor. You scrubbed the cabinets and the floor, cleaned dishes and silverware, and threw away any rotted food - which was surpassingly little. The kitchen nearly sparkled by the end of your work, and luckily the day had passed between all of it.

You retired for the night and drew a well deserved and needed bath. You soaked for almost an hour, letting your skin prune and your thoughts wander: thoughts of the manor, thoughts of Lucienne, thoughts of the mysterious gardener, thoughts of Morpheus, and thoughts of your past and life now.

You sighed, sinking into the water until it barely touched your nose.

Here was a new start with new promises while the past still loomed heavily over your shoulders. No, you truly couldn’t start anew until the past was settled. You knew this, and you were constantly reminded of it.

With the water now cold, you decided to get out. You dried off and pulled on your night clothes. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you passed the writing desk.

You paused.

Changing direction from your cozy bed, you veered to the desk. You needed to write a letter, one you had forgotten - and may have purposely neglected - to write. You plopped down into the creaky wooden chair and began to write a letter. Amongst your initial search of the desk, you were surprised, and thankful, to find paper and ink already inside the drawer.

You had an old promise to keep.

You pulled out a paper and addressed it to your uncle. An uncle who raised you and taught you many things. An uncle who you spoke exclusively in letters since leaving his home nearly over a decade ago. You loved him dearly, and hoped maybe one day after your journey of self discovery, and possibly after truly settling down, you would visit him again.

Under a candlelight, you wrote about the past week. You spoke of your new job, your new lord, and the others who lived here - even if you spoke only to one. You spoke how this job could be the one, the one to change your life. You told him he was still always in your thoughts, and wondered how he was doing since his new retired life per his last letter. You smiled down at the letter, and signed it. You neatly folded it, and tucked it into an envelope to send at the earliest convenience.

Maybe Lucienne could take it to the post office for you, or maybe you’ll make a visit into town.

The decision will come later, for now you need to sleep.


Tags
1 year ago

Top-Tier Villain Motivations

They will be safe. It doesn't matter who else or what else burns as long as They will be safe.

I will be safe. The hunger and the cold will never touch me again.

Fuck any bitch who's prettier(/cooler/better-liked/better at making dumplings) than me.

Yes, Master

Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. LOVE ME!

I know the terrible things these so-called "heroes" will do if I don't stop them (<- is absolutely wrong)

I don't want a better future, I want a better past!

No other way to get performance art funded these days

1 year ago
Nothing Is Harder On The Soul, Than The Smell Of Dreams, While They're Evaporating
Nothing Is Harder On The Soul, Than The Smell Of Dreams, While They're Evaporating
Nothing Is Harder On The Soul, Than The Smell Of Dreams, While They're Evaporating
Nothing Is Harder On The Soul, Than The Smell Of Dreams, While They're Evaporating

Nothing is harder on the soul, than the smell of dreams, while they're evaporating

- Mahmoud Darwish

1 year ago

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Sweet Nightmares: When not even Nightmare Dream can chase you off from visiting his realm whenever you wished, he decides to show his eldritch side. In other words: Dream doesn’t understand why you have such free rein within his realm and tries to scare you off. Jokes on him, you’re into it.

Warnings: Dream in Denial, Explicit Language, Reader Messes W/ Dream, I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS.

To Note: Eldritch!Dream x AFAB!Reader, Mostly Dream at his Wit’s End with Reader, Part of the ’Sweet Nightmares’ Event by @roguelov.

Word Count: ~7.2k

Masterlist | Next

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One
𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

You often wondered what it would be like to swim in the Ocean of Dreams. It often looked dark and uninviting, surely a representation of its true purpose… but that water also looked so beautiful to you. Things in The Dreaming weren’t what they seemed. Sometimes cold was hot, or sweet was spicy, an apple might taste like a peach, even a sunflower you had been happily looking at had turned into a rose. At times you thought the realm was purposefully fucking with you. No. It was fucking with you. So you liked to fuck with it back.

You were fairly sure that the realm adored it when you interacted with its jokes and mischievous nature.

“If you try swimming in the Ocean of Dreams, it’s just gonna spit you back out.” Imber, the dream of rain, spoke from where she sat next to you, basking in the low pressure of the air. It was going to rain soon. You gave her a pointed look, fingers picking at the edge of your shirt.

“You’re being negative, Im,” You stated, making up your mind and pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it to the towel you had been sitting on. Next you wiggled yourself out of the jeans the Dreaming gave you when you had appeared this night. “And I’m curious… like, what is it like?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Is it like swimming in a regular ocean? Is it salty? Cold? It kind of looks like it’d be freezing… Does it have the same buoyancy as the oceans in the Waking World? Can I drink from it? Are there fish? Like dream fish? That’d be really awesome if there were dream fish…”

“Please, for the love of the Endless realms, do not drink those waters,” Imber exclaimed, wondering what kind of unhinged mortal would wish to swim in those waters let alone drink the Ocean of Dreams! Apparently you. The dream watched as you deposited the rest of your clothes on your towel and trotted over to the dock extending over the darkened water of the Ocean of Dreams. Your toes gripped the edge of the dock, your eyes staring down into the black water. You saw your reflection, nothing else. The water was dark, black even. So mysterious. You wanted to know what lay beneath. Your reflection tilted its head to the side and smiled at you, then it held its hand out, beckoning for you to jump. “Really, you shouldn’t—”

You stepped off the dock.

Dropping into the water, you were surprised to find that it wasn’t cold at all, or in anyway unpleasant. The water felt like it was pillowing your body, gentle and caring. You kicked your way back to the surface and your head popped out of the water. The look on Imber’s face was priceless. It was like the realm had dropped out beneath her and the universe was ending. Then she was exploding on you.

“What do you think you are doing!?” She screeched, waving her hands and desperately wanting to drag you out, but knowing that she could not enter the water. “The Ocean of Dreams is dangerous!” You blinked at her from where you were treading water, not understanding why she was so upset. Literally nothing was happening to you. “Those waters kill!”

“You are being over dramatic,” You replied pleasantly, wishing you had tried this sooner. It really was quite nice. While Imber went off on a tangent about your apparent need to get out of the ocean, you felt something sliding around your ankle. Ignoring what was going on beneath the waves, you gave Imber a frank look. “Really, Im, I’m fi—” You were sharply pulled beneath the surface of the water by your ankle, only having a moment to take in a gasp of air.

Bubbles streamed around your body as you were tugged down for a few disorienting moments, your hands flailing as you righted yourself. Eyes opening, you found that the water didn’t sting. Nice. You looked around for what had pulled you down, and came face to face with a black form that looked remarkably like yourself. Whoa. The mirror of you smiled deviously, and offered her hand. Now, there was no way this truly was your own reflection/shadow, you knew enough about the Dreaming to know they didn’t exist… but what she was, was most likely the Ocean of Dreams herself. Because it was definitely a she. That excited you, so you reached out and took her hand.

You were pulled along and only moments later you were met with an explosion of colors and wonders that left you shocked. The Ocean of Dreams was truly beautiful. As you went, you could see flashes of dreams, some fairytales, other nightmares. All of which were pure unadulterated beautiful creations. Why was the Ocean of Dreams so forbidden?? This was a paradise to you! The Ocean of Dreams glanced back at you and you beamed at her, her echoing grin was but a mere flash before she was dragging you through a field of kelp at a faster pace.

There were these little flashes of light in front of you now, bursting like tiny canons explosions. You were ignorant to the slow build of uncomfortable pressure within your chest, your lungs straining for fresh oxygen. Deeper and deeper you were pulled, each new sight even more beautiful than the last. A medieval dream full of knights, a princess, and a dragon. Another a zombie apocalypse where the zombies were running from the humans. A child winning a Nobel peace prize for curing cancer…

Your grasp upon the Ocean of Dreams slipped, but the being continued to hold you, eager to show you everything. Your mind slipped into a state of in-between and you felt even more weightless than you had before. Soft songs echoed around you, slowly fading in a hush… unlike the peacefulness you had felt slipping under, coming back was rough and jarring.

Water surged up your throat and out of your mouth as you harshly coughed, suddenly finding your body nestled on the sand with a very worried Imber clutching your shivering and jerking body. Worse? Morpheus was on one knee next to you, his eyes blazing mercury while he glared at you in complete and utter rage. You finished heaving up saline water, curtesy of the dream lord’s touch on your neck coaxing the dream liquid from your body. You rasped and coughed, leaning back on your shins with a grimace.

“Have you no self preservation!?” The dream lord thundered at you, physical thunder and lightning manifesting over the Ocean of Dreams. She was upset that your and her fun was interrupted. You blinked at Morpheus as he raged at you, his words cross, irate, warning. Nothing new to you. He never liked that you pushed the boundaries of his realm and rules. Well he never seemed to like you period. “I have half the mind to banish you for such insolence.”

“I think she’s lonely,” You protested smartly. “You should interact with her more.”

“You dare suggest to tell me how to run my realm?” Morpheus thundered yet again, lightning flashed and struck sand not that far from you. “You are out of line.”

“She deserves attention too you know,” You fired back as the dream lord rose to his feet and promptly stormed away, his coat fluttering behind him. Imber threw her arms around around your neck.

“Don’t ever do that again! You would have drowned if Lord Dream hadn’t rescued you!”  The dream sobbed. Blinking, you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Why had Morpheus pulled you out? Did he not find your antics most annoying within his realm? You figured that if something ever happened to you, he’d just let you die to rid himself of you. He threatened you enough about banishment… While Imber continued to hug you, you stared at the disturbed waters of the Ocean of Dreams. She was already missing you.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

The library was one of your favorite places to visit in the Dreaming. The endless amount of books kept you well entertained when your friends were busy with their work. On this day, you were playing hide and seek with Matthew. Shelves moved around you, shifting from letter to letter and genre… Matthew was currently hunting you down (without cheating) and his calls for you echoed throughout the endless library.

Holding back a snicker, you crawled across the top of the bookshelf you were currently perched on. Lucienne had been monitoring your hide and seek game, amused from watching the shelves cleverly hide you from Matthew’s sights. It was clear that the realm liked you, clear that no matter where you went within the Dreaming, the realm itself came alive as you interacted with it. So she was fine with you playing around in the library, as long as nothing happened to the books.

She was currently watching you army crawl across the tops of towering bookshelves, wondering how you had managed to get yourself there in the first place! No doubt the library had helped you up there… and now it was helping to hide you as well. Chuckling beneath her breath, Lucienne shifted her gaze to Matthew fluttering around, calling out to you with sassy remarks.

“Oh come on!” The raven exclaimed, gliding around a corner, only to come to an empty aisle. “Where are you hiding!? This has been going on for like, ten minutes!!”

“Oh come on, Matty!” You teased him, resting on your stomach for a moment while kicking your feet back. “It’s not like I’m playing tricks on you.” Matthew let out a disgruntled snort and dropped to the floor of the library.

“You totally are!” He complained, stamping his foot on the hardened wood beneath him. “How else would this game still be going on!? Isn’t it my turn to hide??”

“You still haven’t found me though,” You sang with a wide grin. Matthew stomped his little feet some more and flapped his wings, clearly at his wits end.

“Fine! Fine!” He exclaimed in a blustery tone. “You win this one! You win this one now just tell me—”

“What are you doing within the Library, Matthew?” Matthew hopped to attention and you leaned closer to the edge of the bookshelf to see that Morpheus had arrived. Who shit in his wheaties this morning?

“Oh, hi sir,” Matthew chittered nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. Morpheus’ intimidating gaze narrowed. “I was just— you know…”

“Matthew was tending to a dreamer, my lord,” Lucienne spoke up, stepping into the picture. “You tasked him with helping around the realm when away from your side, he is doing as such.”

“And where is this dreamer?” Morpheus pressed, turning back to Matthew.

“Oh, you see, sir, we were playing a game of hide and seek so I don’t actually know…” Matthew trailed off the moment blue started glowing silver. Well, he didn’t know where you were, and his boss was clearly going to go nuclear at any moment.

“I’m up here,” Your voice was soft as it floated down to the three beings, and three sets of eyes lifted to stare at you peeking over the edge of the bookshelf you were currently atop. You could have sworn that Morpheus’ eye twitched. Matthew’s beak dropped open as he let out a screech in outrage.

“You were up there the whole time!?” He loudly exclaimed, flapping his wings and taking to the air to flutter up to where you were sprawled out. You grinned at the raven as he landed beside you.

“Yeah, pretty much,” You confirmed, pushing yourself up onto your forearms. Matthew wanted to be mad at you for doing such a thing, but at the same time, he was hella impressed.

“Okay you got me good on that,” He admitted while a storm began brewing below you. Morpheus was not pleased, not pleased at all. How had you gotten up there? And to play such a silly and menial childs games within the grand library of the Dreaming!? Your audacity appeared to have no bounds!

“What are you doing perched atop these sacred shelves?” Morpheus questioned severely, glaring up at your lounging body. You blinked at him, had he not been listening to what Matthew had just said?

“Playing a game of hide and seek, it was Matty’s turn to seek.”

“Yeah, we were just having some harmless fun,” Matthew piped up, hoping his boss wouldn’t go all nightmare on you. He really liked you and didn’t want you to be scared off let alone banished. Outside the palace thunder boomed, shaking the foundation. Your gaze didn’t stray from Morpheus’ bright silver one as you stared him down.

“Harmless… fun,” The dream lord was almost growling now, you nodded before patting the bookshelf beneath you.

“Oh yeah, hide and seek in this library? It’s like the masters edition. Top notch entertainment.” You happily explained, shifting into a sitting position. “Again might I suggest interacting—”

“Enough!” Morpheus cut you off. “Get down from the bookshelf immediately.”

“Spoil all the fun why don’t you, grumpy pants,” You mumbled, moving to climb down from your perch. But as you were doing as he had asked, the library decided to have a little fun of its own. With a shiver and tremble of wood, you lost your grip and tumbled from the bookshelf. A small yelp left your lips while Lucienne gasped and rushed forwards. She of course wouldn’t be able to help you, or catch you in time to prevent a very painful fall… but Morpheus was right there to catch your dropping body.

He easily caught you, surprising himself because did you not irk him to no end so why would he catch you? You and Morpheus spent a moment staring at each other, surprise plastered on both of your faces. What the hell had just happened? Heat creeped up your neck and you were instantly a flustered mess.

“Dream over, bye,” Just as suddenly as you had dropped into his arms, you were gone, leaving behind a dumbstruck Morpheus. He was frozen where he stood, arms out like he was still holding your body. He had a solid blue screen behind his silver eyes. Lucienne rushed up to her lord in a frazzled state.

“Sir? Sir?” She questioned, trying to get a response from the frozen dream lord. He was slowly rebooting. Matthew fluttered down to a nearby table and cocked his head to the side.

“Do ya think Y/N broke him? I’ve never seen them go all peace out on us before…” Matthew commented as Morpheus’ mind finished rebooting. Rage blistered across Morpheus’ features.

“They dare to undermine the rules of my realm and relieve themself from their own dream!?” Morpheus hissed out, finally coming to his senses on what had just happened. You had fallen from the top of the book shelf, he had caught you, and then you had woken yourself up! That was not an ability any regular dreamer should have and you were clearly displaying an unusual source of power.

“Sir, I believe that they are simply trying to enjoy the realm to the fullest—” The glow within Morpheus’ eyes had Lucienne cutting her words off and she watched as he angrily stormed away. Matthew exchanged looks with the librarian.

“So… am I just over thinking it or are they…”

“It would be in your best interest to stay out of their business, Matthew,” Lucienne adjusted her glasses and busied herself. This was not something she was going to stick her nose in unless absolutely necessary.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

“If I get trapped in that stupid hour glass you better break me out,” You muttered to Concinō. Your dream friend twitched the corner of his mouth, making the whiskers of his current form, move ever so slightly. He was totally taking pleasure in this, you just knew it. At the start of your night, you’d come across Concinō, the dream of singing harmoniously… and somehow, he had talked you into assisting him with a dream of his. Little did you know that you would end up playing a Disney princess.

Exciting and fun, but you were acutely aware of what happened in Aladdin, and weren’t exactly fond of the idea that Jafar would be setting his sights on you. Memories of being scared as the hourglass full of sand slowly buried Jasmine alive still haunted you, even into adulthood. Not even the fine cloth draped upon your body and jewels enhancing your natural beauty could distract you from that worry.

“You think I will allow any harm to befall you?”

“We are in a dream, Concinō,” You muttered at him beneath your breath. “The psychological mind fuckery I deal with on a nightly basis is getting a bit too much.”

“Which is why I thought to invite you, this is a little girl’s dream, it is not meant to be a nightmare.” You gave Concinō a blank stare for a moment before your ‘father’ came bustling in… in all his short and round gloriousness. It was a nearly comical sight to you and that made you giggle a little and smile. You set down the hairbrush you had been absentmindedly running through Jasmine’s long hair and twisted in your seat.

“Father,” You greeted happily, following along with the script. “I had the most wonderful time,” The little girl watching the dream play out in the corner of Jasmine’s large bedroom giggled and pressed her hands against her little mouth. “I’m so happy!”

“You should be, Jasmine,” Jasmine’s father replied, his eyes glowing an eery red. Jafar had already gotten to him. “I have chosen a husband for you.” The remaining door to your room boomed open and the long faced Jafar appeared, striding towards you with a regal yet smug bird perched on his shoulder.

“You’re speechless, I see. A fine quality in a wife.” Jafar said, taking your hand. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of this dude, but them remembered you had a part to play and jerked back.

“I will never marry you,” You retorted as the little girl pipped up.

“Yeah! She’s never gonna marry a creep like you. You’re mean!” You nearly laughed at her comment but stayed in character. From behind you, Concinō let out a rumble from his chest in warning.

“Father I choose Prince Ali.”

“Prince Ali left,” Jafar retorted smugly.

“Better check your crystal ball again, Jafar,” A voice spoke from behind you. You whirled around in a swirl of blue skirts and proceeded to gawk at the dream that had formed Prince Ali. You wouldn’t mind being swept off your feet by him. The bird on Jafar’s shoulder squawked angrily as Prince Ali stomped up to you, eyes ablaze.

“Tell them the truth, Jafar. You tried to have me killed.” You let out a dramatic gasp, which the little girl did as well. Honestly her reactions were making this whole experience worth the trouble…

“What?” Jafar exclaimed. “Ridiculous nonsense, Your Highness. He’s obviously lying.” 

“Obviously… lying…” Jasmine’s father mumbled, hypnotized by the snake scepter. You stepped in front of him and tried to shake the hypnotism from this mind.

“Father, what is wrong with you!?” Aladdin jumped forwards and snatched the snake scepter.

“I know what’s wrong!” He shouted before smashing the head of the snake on the floor. It broke and Jasmine’s father gasped.

“Oh, my!”

“Your Highness, Jafar’s been controlling you with this.” Aladdin continued, holding out the scepter.

“What?” He stammered. “Jafar? You, you traitor!”

“Get him! Lock him up!” The little girl cheered on. So the guards were called and were slowly dragging him off, but just as soon as Jafar has waltzed into the room, he disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

“Oh no,” You murmured to yourself as Aladdin stepped up to you and Jasmine’s father began rambling. You let him wrap his arms around your body, and stared into his eyes before muttering at him. “I’m not kissing you.”

A sparkle appeared and his smile widened.

“I’m pretty sure Concinō would bite my head off if I tried,” The dream replied. “Besides, I’m just a side character in this dream.”

That made you chuckle as the dream in question eyed you both scrupulously. Concinō was in charge of this dream, in charge of making the little girl’s dreaming thoughts reality for this night. You had little control over what was going to happen next. Jasmine’s father dragged Aladdin off, talking excitedly about marriage plans and you went to slump down on a sofa with an exasperated sigh.

When it came time for Jafar’s takeover, you hadn’t considered how terrifying it might be to actually experience what Jasmine went through. You didn’t appreciate the crimson outfit you had been forced into, and you certainly didn’t appreciate being in chains at Jafar’s side. You had already thrown wine at the idiot sorcerer, told him off (much to the little girls egging on, she found it very entertaining), and even stomped on his foot.

He wasn’t happy with you.

You had done your best to distract the sorcerer after he had wished for you to fall in love with him. Because hello, one of the big no no’s of Genie magic was no love spells. Jafar didn’t know that yet thankfully, so you were holding his attention while Aladdin snuck in and slowly made his way over to the magic lamp.

“What street rat?” You cooed, delicately brushing your fingers along Jafar’s face. You were never doing this again. But your distraction was doomed to fail and Jafar caught sight of Aladdin in the reflection of the tiara you wore and promptly jerked around to address him. You lurched in front of him and tried to grab the scepter. Fighting against him was a loosing battle and you were flung backwards onto your rump which made you moan.

“Get the lamp!” Aladdin called from where he had taken your place in struggling for the scepter. You scrambled on your hands and knees, lurching up and scurrying over to the throne where the lamp was resting.

“Ah, ah, ah, Princess!” Jafar called, flinging Aladdin to the side. “Your time is up!” He flicked his scepter at you and you felt your body getting thrown back. You had to close your eyes so you didn’t get sick, but the topsy turvy feeling finally dissipated. Opening your eyes, you stared at a wall of glass before panicking and slapping your hands against the glass of the giant hourglass you were stuck in. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had hoped the little girl would deviate from the whole ‘Jasmine almost dies in the hour glass suffocated from sand’ plot. Apparently the little dreamer was a purist.

Sand poured on your head from overhead and you jerked in place, trying to avoid the stream. You slammed your fists harder against the glass, hoping you could break it, you had been able to manipulate some dreams before. But you had no such luck, the glass remained strong and the sand was quickly up to your waist. While Aladdin was tricking afar into wishing to be a Genie, you raked your nails across the glass and desperately searched for the now pint sized Concinō. He was gone, dismissed by a very irate Morpheus who had sensed your meddling yet again.

The dream darkened around you and the disney palace warped. Clawing the sand in front of you, you barely saw Jafar’s figure standing in front of the glass. He looked different now, taller, darker, more menacing. A few gasps for air departed your lips as you stared the irate Morpheus in the eyes. Then sand completely covered you. You panicked against the coarse material, feeling it scrape against your skin and impede your ability to breathe.

The glass holding you trapped disappeared within the hourglass. You fell, sprawling in front of a livid Nightmare Morpheus in a tumble of red fabric and sand. Coughing for a few moments because it seemed like you had breathed in several particles of sand, you slowly lifted your head.

You caught glowing mercury eyes, first glaring at you for being in the dream in the first. The complete and utter audacity! You were so meddlesome! But then Morpheus took in what you were wearing and his mind went blank. Crimson fabric covered your curves, and jewels dotted your throat and head, you looked every bit of the part you had been playing. Beautiful princess trapped in an hourglass filling with sand. It was an… enviable sight and that disturbed the Endless, certainly even more when sand slipped from your shoulders as you shifted in place. It had the luxury of caressing your beauty, beauty he had been unconsciously admiring. Now he wanted you… a… deplorable thought… surely… he would never… absolutely not… you were a pest… a pest he disliked… greatly… he didn’t like you… not one bit…

“Jafar?” A squeaky voice questioned, you glanced to your right to see the little girl confused. Understandable, this was supposed to be a dream, but now it was a nightmare. “You’re supposed to be defeated and stuck in a lamp.” Morpheus didn’t even spare her a glance.

“This dream… is over,” He spoke through gritted teeth. Sand once again spun around you, withdrawing you from the Dreaming and causing you to jerk awake in bed. You breathed heavily, your heart racing. Did he just try and scare you off with a nightmare?

“Dick move, Morpheus, dick move, it was her dream not yours,” You muttered, rolling onto your side. “It’s gonna take more than a nightmare to chase me off.” You closed your eyes and tried to get back to sleep. The only thing Morpheus managed to do was rescue you from a situation that had scared you. Being trapped in that hourglass was scarier than Nightmare Morpheus.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

You were lounging with a book in your lap on what should have been a very uncomfortable place to sit… but the Dreaming of course would not have you sitting on something so uncomfortable and had softened the seat of Morpheus’ throne for you. That made his throne a very nice place to sit and read… which you were doing happily until Matthew’s call rang throughout the large throne room. You purposefully kept your eyes trained on the book in your hands, nonchalantly reading your passage.

The moment Morpheus set his eyes upon his throne, and saw you sitting there, he stopped short and took a moment to think. Surely you wouldn’t be this insolent! But there you were, looking quite comfortable and entirely at home. And quite gorgeous— He cleared that daring through from his mind and strode forward, a sour expression on his face.

“Your insolence appears to have no bounds,” He growled at you, rage quickly surfacing once more. You’d been pressing on his nerves, moving onto the next without fail and building his frustration. “Remove yourself at once.”

You eyed him, knowing that this was most likely really irritating him… which was your plan in the first place. Not one dream nor nightmare thought you’d actually sit on Morpheus’ throne. So you had strolled on up to the chair and planted your bottom on it. Now you were watching Morpheus’ patience run thin, worn down by your constant antics within his realm. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you liked it when he showed the Nightmare side of him. The endless was getting very frustrated that he couldn’t scare you off.

You chose not to push him and just smiled pleasantly and winked yourself out of the Dreaming. The Dreaming refused to change Morpheus’ throne back to its original state for three weeks.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

You hadn’t told anyone what your plan was, you just executed it. Morpheus was supposed to be gone from the realm for several days and nights, which gave you the perfect window to pull off your next prank. You’d spent the better part of this visit moving every piece of furniture you could find… an inch over from where it usual was. It wouldn’t be obvious and to most eyes, everything would look normal. But not Morpheus. He was highly sensitive to his realm, could detect every minute change down to a single weed. But he wasn’t in the realm to feel the changes you made directly, so you could get away with the movements without him knowing.

When he returned, everything would look the same, but feel the same? No. And you relished watching him squirm on the inside trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with his realm. He was so unflappable at times, stoic and unchanging. Kind of like a marble statue… no, you were sure that a marble statue would show more emotions than Morpheus. Ignoring his angry, glowy eyes he gave you when pissed off. You wondered what he would look like it he smiled for once (something that you knew would never happen), you also wondered what his cosmic form looked like. Lucienne had once told you that while he did have an anthropomorphic form, it was only one form he had.

He was already a stunningly beautiful creature as a mortal, you wondered what his non-human form looked like. Would he even look remotely humanlike? Or would he be all wonky and chaotic, a blob of cosmic energy with no real distinguishable form to be seen.

“Hmm, squishy,” You commented to yourself as you struggled to move his throne exactly an inch to the left. “I wonder what he’d feel like to sleep on if he was like that?”

“What’re you doing?” You jumped in place before relaxing and looking at Matthew.

“Hi Matty,” you greeted before tilting your head. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were with Morpheus?”

“He sent me to check on you because he thinks you’re gonna mess with something while he’s gone.” You bit your lip to stop a bout of laughter that wanted to come up and Matthew hopped forwards, examining you a little closer. “You aren’t… messing with anything right?”

“Course not, absolutely wouldn’t while he’s out, why would he think of such a thing?” You blurted out. Matthew instantly knew you were up to something, and looked closer.

“Okay… why are you touching his throne? He got real mad about that after your last prank. Could’ve sworn the throne actually sulked for a few weeks…” Matthew muttered to himself, immediately deciding that he wanted no part in whatever shenanigan you were up to this time. His boss was getting really wound up by you and ready to implode. Matthew would rather watch this event from the sidelines than be in the midst of it.

“Just looking at the carvings,” You answered, patting the cold marble beneath your fingers. “I’m also wondering what he was thinking of when he made it given the decorations… like how does he even figure that shit out in his head?  Or is it like, automatic? Snap fingers and bam a-la-throne?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” Matthew replied, his own mind now wondering how Morpheus had designed everything. “I don’t know how any of this Endless magic shit works, ya know?”

“It’s pretty awesome though,” You said while standing up and wiping your hands on your jeans. It was moved just enough. Perfect. Now you just had to wait for Morpheus to get back. While Matthew flew back to give Morpheus a report that you weren’t messing with his realm, you whistled while making your way to the library to find something to read.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Morpheus had gotten so angry at your little stunt (that everyone in the dreaming thought was hilarious) that he had gone all Nightmare on you. Like blazing cosmos eyes, enormous figure, thunder and lightning. Even the palace had trembled. Lucienne had been frightened for you, thinking that perhaps you had finally pushed the Endless one prank too far… only Morpheus had just raged at you while you giggled deviously. Then you had just skittered your way out of the throne room leaving the rather irate Endless to fume. So Lucienne finally decided to intervene.

“Sir, if I may,” She spoke softly, still feeling the echoing rumbles of the realm trembling from Morpheus’ anger. Mercury eyes landed on his trusted librarian.

“What is it, Lucienne? Give me one good reason why I should not have them banished from this realm for all eternity.” The librarian shifted from one foot to the other.

“Sir, I do not believe that you truly dislike having them around.” Morpheus glared at her for the mere insinuation that he liked having you of all creatures around his realm. “You have given many threats of banishment, but have yet to follow through with your words…”

“And why do you believe that is?” Morpheus snapped out, his fingers digging into the armrests of his throne (which he had promptly returned to its rightful place an inch to the right).

“I believe, that perhaps, you have come to enjoy their visits?” Lucienne offered, steeling herself for the blow up that was surely to come. “And might I even add, that you might have come to…” She paused, searching for the correct words to say without getting herself sent to the darkness. “…care for them. Do you not contemplate their arrival within the realm every night before they do so?”

Morpheus was insulted that his library would suggest such a thing and his eyes certainly blazed silver.

“You dare suggest that I have formed feelings for such an insolent mortal!?” His voice came out in a hiss. “They are nothing but a nuisance to me and I wish for them to leave and never come back!”

Lucienne couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“But sir, if you truly wished for that, would you not have already done so?” The librarian bravely spoke. “In order to deal with such… feelings, accordingly, you should decide upon the decision to banish them or not.”

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Morpheus hadn’t made a decision on what to do with you. No, he had decided to show you his final form. His true form. A form that would surely scare you off and he’d never had to deal with your incessant pranks, never have to see you walking his halls never, never have to be tempted by your smiles and laughter. You were impervious to many a thing, but he doubted you wouldn’t be scared of his ultimate cosmic form. He didn’t really have a physical body in the anthropomorphic sense, he was just a mass of Endless that was abstractly shaped like his mortal self. Surely you’d be terrified and the temptation that had driving him to the brink of insanity would finally be gone.

But his plan to scare you by showing a side of him that was rarely shown had to be put on hold when his sibling decided to pay a visit. Of all siblings, it had to be Desire. They were still on thin ice with their last trickery that had cost the Dreaming 106 years, what reason did they have to want to visit now? But nonetheless, he relented simply for the sake of keeping an eye on them. Morpheus relented to their wish to wander throughout his realm, but he had every dream and nightmare on alert and several ravens flying overhead should anything go amiss.

When he picked up that you had entered his realm, he had dismissed your presence. He would have to deal with you on the morrow, he was far too busy with his realm at the moment to consider dealing with you and your jokes. Luckily for him, you weren’t planning on pulling off any pranks on this visit. He didn’t, however, consider what would happen should you cross paths with his sibling. No, you were just wandering around the palace gardens smelling different flowers and appreciating the scents and varieties. You had already received a flower from a tulip plant that had kindly offered you the single flower. Everywhere you went, the Dreaming came alive.

“I didn’t expect a dreamer to be so close to the palace,” A smooth voice called, drawing you from your mindless thoughts. Turning your head, you stopped in your tracks when you saw one of the most beautiful beings you had ever seen. Caught between masculine and feminine, they had pale hair and vibrant gold eyes… but you were distracted by the mischievous air that surrounded them. “My brother usually keeps the dreamers away from his more… intimate, of places.”

“Oh, so… I kind of just do what I want here,” You explained, wondering how many siblings Morpheus had. Then you leaned over and ran your fingers over a hydrangea bush. It stretched its leaves towards your touch. “He doesn’t stop me or anything, usually just gives me the glowy eyes, and huffs and puffs at my apparent audacity.”

Desire chuckled softly, amusement sparkling within their incredible golden eyes.

“Oh aren’t you an unusual one,” They mused, moving closer to where you stood. Gold examined every millimeter of your body, there was nothing special about you, clearly… but something made Dream latch onto you. “I can see why he would be intrigued.”

“Who says he’s intrigued?” You questioned, twisting your head to look at them with a raised eyebrow. “Do you know the number of times I’ve been threatened with banishment?”

“Like he would ever find it in his cold, cold, heart to banish a gem like you,” Desire cooed, not helping themself and reaching up to touch your face. They let their finger follow the curve of your jaw. “You’re far too precious.”

“I don’t know about that,” You disagreed, eyes wandering over their features. “Can I ask for your name? Morpheus doesn’t talk about his family, or talk to me at all if he has to…”

“I’m Desire,” Desire purred, eyes thinking with mischief and wonder. There were so many delicious things they could do with you. Ah. That would explain a lot.

“It’s nice to meet you Desire,” You replied happily. “I haven’t learned much about you or the other Endless…

“Hmm, it doesn’t surprise me,” Desire replied, taking a section of your hair between their impeccably manicured fingers. “Dream has always been very hush hush about us, it’s quite saddening actually…”

Something in you told you that it was, in fact, not saddening, to Desire and they were only looking to stir shit up. You were equipped in that category.

“Oh,” You sounded, you’re smiling fading despite your efforts to keep your face straight. You’d never been good at hiding your true emotions. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, he’s kind of private isn’t he? I don’t blame him for that.” Golden eyes glimmered at you in scrutiny. You were an unusually impervious mortal, usually your kind would be falling at their feet by now in reverence. So they stepped closer and turned on the charm and desire, trying to wrap you up within their twisted influence. Surely you would make for a delicious game.

“Oh? But you are a guest within his realm,” Desire purred, dropping your hair to caress your cheek. While their teasing continued, Morpheus was made aware of his siblings proximity to you, his latest irking problem… and the very thin band of patience you’d been testing the constraints of for the last few months finally began to quiver. Disappearing from this throne room, Morpheus appeared in his garden and fixed his eyes on you and his sibling. Surely they were filling you with more noxious ideas to plague the Dreaming.

“Desire, that is enough,” Morpheus growled, the feet beneath your feet shaking. “Your meddling has gone far enough, leave,” Desire pouted and Nightmare Dream came out, his patience snapping like a violin string. You took a step back, feeling the ground beneath your feet trembling and shaking. Wow, Morpheus was sure getting worked up. You wondered if Desire was going to push his buttons further, but the Endless just smirked and winked out of the Dreaming.

“I think that was a little rude of you,” You commented, only to have the angry Dream Lord round on you and his eyes to brighten in anger almost to the point where you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Rude!? Are you that desperate to irate me that must conspire with my sibling!??” Lightning cracked across the suddenly darkened sky. You blinked and scrunched your nose.

“What? No,” You replied in confusion. Since when had you purposefully annoyed him? All you wanted to do was have fun and explore the Dreaming, and have Morpheus interact with it more because clearly she was missing her lord. You never had any intention of purposefully irritating Morpheus. “I just wanted to—”

“My realm is not yours to do what you wish with mortal,” Morpheus hissed at you, his skin rippling with power. “And for you to conspire with Desire!?”

Your eyes flashed in anger and your hackles bristled.

“I was most certainly not—” Before you even finished your statement the air around you rippled and you felt like you were stuck in a hurricane. Well someone had certainly lost their temper, but you hadn’t seen him lose it like this. A few seconds later you felt yourself getting tossed and turned in place, the ground having long since disappeared from your feet. Flopping around, your arms cartwheeled until you managed to keep yourself stable and you worked the courage up to open your eyes. What the hell…?

In front of you was a swirling mass of cosmos, you could barely make out somewhat of a humanoid shape but it most certainly wasn’t a human. Your body dropped though the air and you flailed yet again before being caught but a shadowy hand.

“You are the bane of my existence with your incessant comings and goings, why do you not act like the rest of your kind!?” Oh. Holy shit. That was Morpheus?? You were rendered speechless, gawking at the inhumane mass of Endless energy. Even now, with Morpheus displaying his worst form, you were still not cowering in fear! “What must I do to rid myself of the irritation you cause me?”

“You are so beautiful,” You whispered, barely able to form any further thoughts as the beauty of the cosmic being in front of you filled your mind. The next few seconds stretched into what felt like years, your words curling and slipping around Morpheus’ monstrous being. You are so beautiful.

Your surroundings trembled and shook, and that topsy turvy feeling returned. Then you found yourself stretched out on a bed with a very bewildered and confused (not to mention worked up) Endless above you. Your eyelashes fluttered as Morpheus grasped your chin in a hard grip. You could feel the pent up energy he was barely holding back.

“You are the most vexing, troubling, meddlesome mortal I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Morpheus hissed in your face, his nose practically touching yours. Well excuse me! You didn’t exactly ask to meet him either! Your eyes flared with fire and you barked back, poking your finger into his chest.

“Well you are the most hard headed, egotistical, close minded—” Morpheus had-had enough of your lip and insolence, and silenced you the only way his tumultuous mind could think of: by kissing you.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Date Published: 8/11/23

Last Edit: 8/11/23

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𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

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xlili-lyraterx - oneirataxia
oneirataxia

'the inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality'

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