#dispair of the endless

[tickldpnk8]

Distant Mirrors Reread: Three Septembers and a January

One of the things that Gaiman does in his works is that he ties in real people and real events. And to me, it makes all of the fantastical seem ordinary and believable. This issue builds off of one of those things. There really was an Emperor Norton, but here we see what might have inspired his “madness” …if the Endless were to exist.

In any case, this issue packs a lot of sibling dynamics, so let’s get started.

On family dynamics:

The whole issue starts out with Despair attending to Norton. Despair contemplates Norton at his lowest and calls on Dream to attend to her. She then challenges Dream to a contest over whether his “little dreams” can redeem Norton or not.

Now, the first time I read it, I read it as the challenge was started out of competition/jealousy and anger/goading. And I still see that. But this time it struck me more like Despair trying to save Norton from suicide at the very least or as her trying to engage Morpheus in life again.

This is what she says right before calling for Dream:

And once the competition has started, Death makes it sound as though the three youngest tend to play these games with mortal lives when she admonishes Dream. This confirms that the older three don’t really interfere in mortal lives. At least as much as the younger 3 do.

The younger three seem to pick fights over who “owns” a mortal at a given time. And I think this relates to how mortals tend to pass in and out of their domains: Desire (want/indifference), Despair (sadness/hope) and Delirium (insanity/lucidity). Meanwhile, Destiny, Death and Dream are all inevitable if you are living. (Sure minor aspects of the oldest three might be something you pass in and out of, but not their larger functions.)

And as the contest plays out, we see each of them try to tempt Norton away from Dream’s sway. Which means we get to see Delirium and Morpheus interact:

I love how these two interact. Morpheus has such tender interactions with his sister. He’s gentle with her: more gentle than with any of this other younger siblings. Even when she’s opposing him in a contest or later on in the series when she annoys him. But despite that, she always finds him to be scary and continually comments on it. This is the first time she tells him she thinks he’s scary in my reread so I want to note it here.

On their missing sibling:

So we still don’t have a name for this missing brother who keeps getting referenced. I had to reread this all carefully because I could have sworn they mention his name, but they don’t.

The only things we know for certain are that he left and that it was his decision. But Despair is able to goad Dream into taking the bet by blaming him for the Prodigal leaving. She claims that Morpheus’ superiority complex is directly to blame for their brother leavjng. That Morpheus didn’t care about their brother and he doesn’t care about the rest of the younger ones either.

Nothing could get Morpheus to take the bet as well as this argument: it directly attacks his pride and also his strong sense of responsibility/guilt. Death sees it differently and reassures him that their brother left due to his own decision. Death seems to have the scolding older sister but down to a tee. I’m sure she’s had a lot of these conversations over the years.

Literary tie in:

And it wouldn’t be a Sandman arc if it didn’t have a literary reference. And here we get Samuel Clemens aka Mark Twain! A nice little cameo. His Royal appointment from Emperor Norton happens as Dream and Delirium have their little chat nearby. So is it a coincidence that it’s worded as “…is made by Royal appointment, official spinner of tales and teller of stories to these United States of America.” It leaves me wondering if Norton wasn’t inspired by Dream to gift this proclamation.

Last, but not least, foreshadowing:

Here we see what a sore loser Desire can be when they lose a bet. Their ostentatious plan of bringing someone back from the dead to tempt Norton backfires. When Morpheus remarks that it wasn’t really very subtle, Desire vows to not only come up with a subtle plan, but to bring the Kindly Ones down on his head.

In Conclusion

So in the end, what Lesson was it that Morpheus imparted to his siblings? That great meta post leaves it up to interpretation. But I personally think that it shows the permanency of dreams in our lives. Despite how transient the dreams we experience in the Dreaming may be, the Dreams we have about ourselves or about our future are so integral to who we are as mortals.

It’s a great last line to leave this arc on. Because over the course of this arc we’ve seen the power of dreams in shaping revolutions, nations, and shaping one’s self. We’ll come back to this theme with the last issue in Distant Mirrors when we get to Ramadan in a bit. For now, Book 2 continues with Orpheus. So that’s up next.

[nuttersincorporated]

Tradition

Fandom: The Sandman

Summary: Once a century, for a day, Death of the Endless spends a day as a mortal. Once a century, Dream of the Endless meets the immortal human Hob Gadling. The other Endless have traditions of their own.

A The Sandman kink meme fill

Word Count: 690

AN: The original prompt asked what centennial traditions the other Endless do. Not all of these are once every hundred years but they are traditions I think would work for each of them.

Once a century for a single day, Death becomes human to experience what it’s like. Well, ‘human’ is what she becomes in the age of mankind anyway. Perhaps, it is more accurate to say that she spends a day as a mortal.

Death has become so many different sorts of beings during her Endless existence and has no doubt that she’ll become many more in the future. She is Endless and, other than her siblings, nothing else is. It is good to let a small part of herself – never all of her, her function never stops after all – live one short day as her charges do.

Every one hundred years, Dream meets with the immortal human, Hob Gadling, to discuss his experiences. They have only met seven times. It is barely a tradition for one such as he. He is Endless, six hundred and odd years should be nothing to him… and yet.

And yet, he never expected this tradition to last past their second meeting and he finds himself looking forward to their next one. He hopes (a dangerous thing) that this will become a true tradition.

These are the things we know. But what of the other Endless?

Destiny, the first and oldest of the Endless, used to have a centennial tradition too. He would close his book, unshackle himself, leave his garden of winding paths, sit down somewhere with no paths at all, turns off his omniscience and read or play whatever that age’s version of a Choose Your Own Adventure novels were.

It felt good to make choices without knowing there outcome. Destiney misses it. However, since the Prodigal left, it is an indulgence he no longer allows himself.

Desire wants and wants and wants. It is their function. It is their gift and their curse. It is wonderful and unbearable. They love themselves. They want to tear themselves apart at the seams. They crave and hope and yearn.

One of the things Desire wants is peace. It is not something they can easily have because of who and what they are. However, sometime for a short period of time, they can manage it.

It is not a tradition that Desire does on a certain date or after a certain amount of time. They simply do it when the wanting becomes too much and they feel like they are drowning.

Every now and again (more often since their relationship with Dream soured and more often still since their twin’s remaking) Desire cuts themselves off from everything. They leave their own heart and float in an empty void. There, Desire meditates. They try to simply exist in the moment and by happy.

Sometimes they even succeed. It’s the only time they feel peace and contentment. It does not last long.

Despair, as she used to be, did not have any traditions. She does now.

Since she became the current version of herself, on the anniversary of her remaking, for a day Despair becomes Depression. She feels empty inside, she feels nothing at all. It’s better? It’s worse? It’s different and it’s a contrast to reflect on when she turns back.

Sweet Delirium (who was once Delight) often thinks she should start a tradition of her own but then she forgets to remember or remembers to forget.

Once, Delirium decided that she would plant a tree and she would visit it once every ten years. She could do that, she was sure.

She did plant a tree, though she has no idea which one. Sometimes, Delirium forgets she already planted it and plants another one. Other times, she will see a tree and be sure it’s her tree. Once when that happened, she visited the same tree forty-two times in a single day. Another time, she forgot about her tradition for over three hundred years.

Trees always make Delirium smile, even when they don’t know why.

What of the Prodigal? He keeps his own council and wouldn’t tell you even if you could find him. I think he has no need of traditions any more, except maybe to secretly check in on his siblings from time to time.

[gleefully-macabre]

Imagine if Roderick Burgess HAD captured Death— black-woman-shaped Death.

Probably think he’d caught the wrong entity.

[izzysbeans]

So i'm sure a lot of people who've read the comics more recently compared to me (most of the ones i read were so many years ago i don't really remember much) would know this already, but i was reading up about the endless to refresh my memory and i had completely forgotten this:

(this is despair's page)

When we say everything is a clue and nothing is an accident we really mean EVERYTHING. I CAN'T BELIEVE i forgot that in this universe orpheus was related to despair and yes it IS that orpheus. I knew that Edwin's meeting with dispair was more then it may have seemed in the moment, that will inevitably come up again so well if i thought i needed a new season before OH MY GOD do i need it now

[beelmons]

You will find things when and where you least expect them, and more often than not they will find you rather than the other way around. This has proven to be true endless times, like when your keys have gone missing and appeared in a bag you hadn't used in a while, or when you have been hungry without a specific craving and bumped into a new food that suddenly became your favorite.

And right now, amidst a melacholic storm on a random tuesday, grief found you.

It's a funny feeling. Grief, I mean. Not two people emote it the same way. From a single tear to hours of heart-ripping screams, manifestations of such pain are as vast as the oceans on earth.

Dropping to your knees, paralyzed by sorrow, drowning in a pond of salty tears was certainly not the way you expected it to.

In the middle of your office, while you pulled some overtime thanks to having slacked off the week before was not the place either.

And that way, amidst the turbulence of a tempest within yourself, Spencer Reid found you.

To other eyes the sight would have been nearly pathetic, you would have judged yourself as such, surely, but to a merciful soul such as his, filled with nothing but love an empathy, it was the purest form of bravery.

The abillty to be vulnerable, to express heartache.

It took him a second to figure out the best approach. The wires of his brain weren't easily turned off, even grief had a method, it made sense. But to him, nothing you ever did followed an order, let alone a process. You never made sense.

For once, he was not confined by the sequence demanded by the logical choice, because there was nothing logical in the way you broke down, the strongest woman he knew, the one he deemed invincible, close to unreachable.

There was nothing logical in the way you crawled into his arms once he sat down next to you, or how your acid-like tears pierced through his chest, or in the way he swore, to himself, to not rest until it went away. An impossible task yet to his knowledge.

"What is it?" he finally brought himself to ask.

"Nothing." you muttered, but there was no place for falsity, not when your soul was bared open for his to touch "Everything."

"I'll do anything." his voice was a vague whisper "Anything to make it stop."

"Will you understand?" you pulled away to look up at him.

"Try me." his eyes were oddly resolute, a glint you had only seen when it came to people he cared for.

The fact alone soothed some of the wounds, but your essence was scarred past the existance of him, or anyone else for that matter. What you were was the work of many, some of whom you least expected, some of whom you denied ever played a part, and others whom you knew were there simply to do more harm, and you were yet unable to walk away.

"Do you understand the dispair of having your shirt stained with ketchup?" you blurted out. Truth was, you yourself were unable to put into words what such affliction was.

His eyes narrowed, clearly confused "I can relate to that inconvenience." he said.

"Do you?" you asked with curiosity "Do you understand the feeling of your hair not looking quite right, of your favorite food no longer tasting the same." you took a second to sob, to regain your breath "Of the night being too cold no matter how many blankets you wear, or your body feeling tired regardless how much you sleep. Do you understand the despair of missing who you were, and yet knowing your were bound to end this way?"

"The inevitability of growth can be terrifying." he stated "That much I can understand."

"How do I go back?" you let out a hopeful inquire.

"You dont." after a second of thought, he decided to speak.

"How do I run from what's to come?" you asked yet again.

His hand trailed down your cheek in an affectionate gesture, his slender fingers focusing a bit long on your red and damp skin.

"You can't." his limb trailed down your arm until his palm rested atop of your hand "You stand to them head first, and cling to the hands that stand with you."

Your fingers slowly twirled around, intertwining with his lazily, weakly.

"And if there aren't any?" you tried to look away.

His free hand tapped at your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own.

"There will always be at least mine. That much I can promise."

You will find things when and where you least expect them, and more often than not they will find you rather than the other way around. This has proven to be true endless times, like when you were lost in a sea of mourned selves and you found yourself in the touch of a loved one.

And right there, hope found you.

[shadowsbrainrot]

dean struggles so much with his masculinity, he always knew really deep inside that he was bisexual. It’s just something he couldn’t quite verbalize and more importantly, it was something he could ignore. For years his father had drilled a certain practiced type of masculinity into him, like a soldier he worked under John’s watchful eye. This sort of frankly stereotypical masculinity was all Dean knew, no matter how many times his gaze would be distracted by a pretty boy he would push it all down, he would explain it away in his brain. No, Dean couldn’t be gay or anything of course not. Dean drowned himself in this toxic hypermasculinity, women and porn. It was all he knew.

Until Castiel, angel of the lord “gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.”

Suddenly Dean’s attraction to men was at the forefront of his mind, every time his eyes would catch on Castiel’s, a certain gut-wrenching feeing would tear into his insides. Dean tried, he tried so hard to ignore and explain away just as he had before. But there was something about Cas, something that drew Dean in, except Dean felt as if he was being drawn into a gaping hole surely to jump to his death. He dreaded loving Cas, it was absolutely terrifying. Even years after John’s death it’s as if his ghost was hanging behind Dean’s shoulder. Each time he felt even a sliver of affection towards that angel of a man Dean would feel a stab of guilt, of fear. Dean wanted so bad to love Cas unabashedly, to be able to touch him, kiss him, cry to him. He would shed silent tears at night wishing for Castiel to hold him, grip him tight and raise him from his personal perdition.

Dean eventually grew numb to the heartache, accepting that truly Castiel’s love was something he could never have. It destroyed him to think of tender moments between them, to ache at every touch, convinced in his mind that he and his broken love would ever be enough for Castiel, such a grandiose creature of heaven. Dean could never be good enough, he would think.

To think that Castiel would love him scars and all, still his beautiful Dean Winchester. It was unfathomable. Dean could never see how Cas saw him, he could never see the beauty and love that Cas could. It was as if he had been impaled, it was a deep pit of dispair that grew inside of him knowing that Castiel had loved him all along, that they were so close to having it all. Dean could barely look down at himself without feeling that disgusting guilt that permeated his entire life. His mind filled with endless “if only”s of what could’ve been.

But now Dean was alone.

[hollowreliquary]

the way i see it, viego is so far gone beyond just the mentally ill and problematic man he was.

the trauma of death and rebirth. a thousand years of confusion, anger, anguish, driven by obsession like only a ghost would be. suffocating in a literal physical embodiment of his own tragedy, that seems not only to be quite literally endless, but not under his own control.

can you imagine how much therapy you must need to overcome a bottomless pit of magical dispair, a thousand years of anguish and the confusion of being a restless spirit trapped on earth? i sure can't

[dearduende]

they’re dropping bombs

and people are posting flag emojis

shouting into the void of comment threads

self-censoring in cryptic misspellings

with symbols sprinkled in to avoid shadowbans

how can we decode these threads

that have been woven and knotted

and fraying for generations before now

tracing headlines and tracking biases

stemming from mythos thousands of years old

backed by billions in war budgets

in the name of national security

for whom? to what end?

how many people must die?

how many mothers clutching dead babies

must shriek and cry

into the endless scroll feed

we flick through numbed out—

they’re dropping bombs

and we cannot even see what’s happening

anymore, in full blackout we’re left to imagining

the worst of humanity in times of genocide.

are we so quick to forget,

so quick to ignore,

so entitled to our comforts

we can just turn off our phones

and tune in and tune out when

they’re dropping bombs

and I don’t know what I alone

can do about it all

but to write and to call

but I know I cannot stomach this

I cannot merely sit idle on the sidelines

but I also will not lose myself in dispair

because right now,

we are safe (mostly)

and we are free (mostly)

and we have a full belly (mostly)

and we still have love (surprisingly)

and we still have hope for humanity (barely)

and so we must harness that

which is so fragile and so scarce

because to relinquish that

would be to let the violence win

in our interconnected fights for liberation.

may we all be safe

may we all be free

may we all be nourished

may we all love and be loved

may we all nurture a better humanity for all.

[creationsofimaginationsblr]

Madoka magica au with Ven (Venancio from @raccoontank) and Gam (Gambhorra'ta from @mirrorocean).

I want to believe these two will sometimes cosplay and go to smaller cons. And, if you walk up to them and ask about their cosplays (and let's say the anime they're cosplaying has a tragic end) they will go into a twenty minute long talk about the anime, and the ending they made so that the characters can be happy.

Anyways, below is ramble hours, so buckle up if you want to spend the next ten minutes here.

In a world crashing towards entropy, magical girls were deemed to be the peak source of energy in order to save existence as we know it. With a single wish a girl became God and thus the world was rewritten; replacing one source of fuel and misery, with just a source of fuel.

But, what if that wish had been different?

What if that power had been placed into anothers hands?

How far would you be willing to go for love? Would you run through endless cycles in a desperate yet futile attempt to save your love from ever falling to your own endless fate? 

Or perhaps, would you instead be willing to become a god in order to rewrite everything that caused your lover so much pain.

What is your wish, child of the sun?

A wish to replace entropy. A wish that would rewrite everything as it has ever been known. But that wish comes with great costs.

With no entropy, there is a power vacuum

 No world can be all good, all the time. A word like that is built on entropy, it is dull and robotic.

What is your wish, child born amongst the stars?

A replacement for entropy, an equal an opposite, a love and devotion that even the gods envy.

How far would you go for Love?

Au idea: what if Ven had taken Madokas place? What if Gam, now slotted in as Homura, had tried over and over to save Ven, to the point where he almost lost hope?

But what if, Ven made a wish. A wish, not to rid magical girls of their despair, but rid the world of the threat of entropy? And what if the universe acknowledged that Gam of that world had not made a wish. What I Gam, despite holding power, was allowed by this new God to make one last wish?

And what if Gam chose to wish to stay by Vens side? The world has taken on a new God, but it needs a new threat, someone thing to replace the vacuum left by entropy.

"If you choose this, you will not be remembered, Gam. You will be a god, as He is, but his opposite. But to his Life, you shall be his Death. To His Hope, you shall be their dispair."

"It doesn't matter. You cannot have happiness without the dark days, you cannot enjoy sunlight without a little rain. I will be there to welcome with open arms at the end of all things, and ready to send them off when life calls their name again."

Over and over, intertwined forever.

Design Rambles

Ven: Ven is supposed to represent Madoka, known as a child of the sun because of the bright light in his heart.  The pale pink roses are an allusion to Madoka, as well as the heart cut out on his chest (seen on madokas back) the puff slees reminiscent of her costumes sleeves, the pink wing ear cuff (reference to madokamis shoes and maybe stockings?), and the golden ribbon around his neck (the ribbon human madokami wears, representing her godhood)

      He also littered with small nods to his Homera as seen in his hat (a reference to Homolillys hat before her head falls away), the earrings and shorts (a reference to homura and devil homuras leggings) and the red ribbon around his hat (once madoka's ribbon, now Homuras as madoka became a god)

Both of them have each other's soul charms, as a little nod to the fact that they basically are each other's soul. Vens has a crown (a nod to devil homura) and Gam's has a more rounded shape (a reference to madokamis). I do think that the gems at the tip of their hat and at their hand, respectively, are more so a trick to make people guess where the real gem is.

Gam: Gam is supposed to represent Homura. He adorns the same gold ribbon (nodding to his tie as a god) as well as; diamond pants (a nod to Homuras diamond patterned leggings as a magical girl), semi transparent sleeves (a nod to homuras transparent emotions, despite how much she tries to hide them), a violet layered collar (both a nod to homuras collar in he tragically girl uniform, as well as tie to the more vibrant emotions in his heart),and  soft white ruffles (a reference to Homolillys dress and the bottom of Magical girl homura's skirt)

    Of course, he has tie back to Madoka-Ven as well. The small pink flower at his chest, the pink sash (i hc thats a spare ribbon Ven had perhaps from his previous magical girl uniform) as well as the light blue accents and the mask at his hip ( the mask doubles as a shield of sorts [akin to homuras shield time piece] as well as a nod towards Gretchen)

[justasmallbloginabigklainefandom]

@papierhaikuphoto replied to your post “Kierkegaard would hate me sOOOOO mucH right now”:

Why ?

​Oh this is an inside joke I have with my friends. I am currently, for a class, writing a paper on the philosophy of hope. I chose Kierkegaard's ideas of hope kind of at random (I always describe it as throwing a dart at a board and it happened to land on good ole Søren) and basically Kierkegaard distinguishes between two forms of hope. You have mundane hope and authentic hope. Mundane hope is the hope we commonly refer to in everyday life. You hope for things, but those things are wordly and temporal. You hope you ace a test. You hope your train won't have a delay. You hope it won't rain during the outdoor event, bla, bla, bla.

But good ole Kierkegaard says that mundane hope is a mask for dispair, because since these hopes are so wordly and temporal, you always risk pain. You are in pain when you fail your test, or when your train has delays, or when it rains during the outdoor event. It leads to suffering, which in turn leads to dispair, so to hope in a mundane way is to be in dispair.

True hope is achieved through authentic hope, which isn't wordly and it's eternal. For Kierkegaard, it's because of God and the afterlife, but Kierkegaard scholars say it can be applied to "the good" as a whole. The good is unattainable in life, which makes it endless, which means that to hope authentically, you must always and continously hope for this goodness and be open for all possibilities of this goodness.

BUT OF COURSE, PHILOSOPHY AT TIMES IS A PIECE OF SHIT. The moment you leave the classroom, life happens, and in life, people hope in a mundane way all the time. After all, mundane hope has become the everyday definition of hope for a reason.

But yes, that also means suffering and pain when your hopes don't come true. This goes back to this inside joke. I'm currently trying to move to another apartment within my student housing organisation and every week I can react on an apartment and then the person who gets it is chosen at random on Wednesday. And so far, after almost 4 months, I have been disappointed. So every Wednesday, I say that Kierkegaard must hate me so much for willingly hoping in a mundane way and allowing myself to suffer.

Especially now, since even though people are chosen at random, we're randomly put in an order. No. 1 gets the apartment, but when they decline, it's offered to no. 2, and when they decline, it goes to no. 3 and so on. When you're within the first 5, there's a chance you get it. Most of the time, no. 1 takes it and the ad closes after a week, but it does happen that a no. 1, or no. 2, OR EVEN no. 5 gets it.

I got no. 4 like 2 weeks ago and that advertisement hasn't been finalised yet, which means there's a big change no. 1 declined and the longer this ad stays open, the higher the chance is that I get it after all, which of course sparks a shit ton of extra mundane hope AKA KIERKEGAARD HATES ME SO MUCH.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Twenty-One

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: Endless Groveling, Light Explicit Material.

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone.

Word Count: ~2.0k

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-The cruelest aspect of hope is its ability to make you forget how badly you’ve been hurt.

Morpheus’s lips had descended back on yours in fervent worship. His lips were tugging at yours, pushing them apart to taste the soft whimpers that spilled from your sweet lips. How had he survived all these eons without your kisses, without access to your beautiful swelling love that wrapped Morpheus up in a impenetrable blanket of protection? Pride perhaps, stubbornness even, but Morpheus knew that he would rather destroy himself then ever be without you again. Your hands crawled up his neck, your fingers brushing over tendon and muscles until you had them buried in his hair. Moaning against his mouth, your head dropped back and your lips parted, your glassy stared up into starry eyes.

“It has been agony without you my beloved,” You whispered to him, your fingers weaving in onyx hair and grasping onto them tightly. Morpheus’s eyes glowed with internal rage at himself for leaving you in such agony, in such dispair. He really had been heartlessly cruel to you, and Morpheus was going to spend every moment he had to spare showing you how wrong he was and how much he truly loved you.

Morpheus pulled your body further against his, his fingers digging into your side while he gripped your chin and pulled your mouth back to his. His lips crushed yours, relentless and zealous, pushing yours apart so he could slip through your honeyed lips to taste the hope and ecstasy that bloomed from your body. You moaned against him, dragging your fingers through his hair and letting his tongue tangle with yours. Desire was thick on your tongue and Morpheus only seemed to make it worse the longer his tongue tangled with yours.

You moaned breathily against his deep kiss and shuddered when Morpheus curled his fingers around your jaw to grip the back of your neck. Laving the inside of your addicting mouth one last time, Morpheus bit at your lower lip and tugged it. The proceeding moan that came from you was ecstasy and your back arched, thrusting your chest into Morpheus’s. He devoured your reaction, fingers grasping the hair at your nape and pulling on it until your head was forced backwards and the unblemished skin of your throat was laid bare to Morpheus. He softly growled in the back of his throat, seeing the way your muscles and tendons stretched and relaxed as your body heaved with every breath you took.

Morpheus might not be able to see the flush beneath your skin but he could feel how you burned beneath your skin. He could feel how your Endless blood rippled beneath your flesh, eating away at the walls of your veins, fueling the swells of need that constantly crashed against you like waves. Your grasp on his hair tightened and Morpheus felt you tug on his roots. His eyes glowed again and his lips dove down to your bared neck, pressing several laving kisses against your skin. Morpheus’s teeth scraped against your skin, nipping and biting to the point where you were clawing at his scalp, clawing at his back.

“Morpheus, my Dream,” You whined and gasped, your cheeks glowing with explosive heat. Morpheus’s kisses were making your skin shiver with delight and you squirmed against him. “Stop playing with me.” At your softly moaned words, Morpheus chuckled.

“I do not wish to rush my veneration, my devotion,” Morpheus husked against your skin, brushing his lips against the spanse of skin where your Endless blood fluttered like a hummingbirds wings. He released your hair and ran his fingers down your spine, trailing them over your warm skin to the fabric of your dress hanging in a deep v against your back. “I wish to pick you apart, layer by layer until I have memorized your ever essence once more. I do not wish for it to be familiar, I wish it to be joined with mine.”

You trembled at the thought, heat streaking between your legs. Morpheus kissed your pulse a few more time and switched his attention to the delicate flesh beneath your jaw. You let to a ragged gasp when the hand carefully cradling your back, rove downwards and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your bottom.

“If I am not careful, my Hope, I fear that I will hurt you,” Morpheus whispered against your jaw, his softly glowing eyes watching as your eyelids fluttered and you moaned yet again. It was such a delicate and appetizing sound to him. One that the King of dreams and nightmares would beg to hear again and again, it was so delicious. Why had he ever thought to draw any sound from your lips but one as sweet and ambrosial as that? “I have innumerous shame within my being for causing you such agony, my sweet Hope,” His lips dragged along your jaw and you whimpered, feeling his fingers clench at the soft fabric of your chiton. It was surely in his way, hindering his desire for you.

“Undress me, my love,” You whispered, tilting your face into his and bringing one of your hands to his cheek. “My beloved, my Dream,” Your whispered urges were fuel within Morpheus’s veins. You pressed your fingers into his face and nuzzled your nose against his, your lips searching for his. You found that heat and pressed your lips against his over and over, whispering to him of how much you wanted, needed, his Endless love. Morpheus knew what you were doing. You were trying to goad him into taking you roughly, dive into carnal pleasure, push him to his basal instincts with little regard for your being. His hand was back in your hair and he was pulling your seductive and persuasive mouth away from his.

“It is I, who is on their knees, my Hope, but you are not the one in charge right now.” Morpheus spoke to you in that tone of his. The one he uses when he is asserting his ‘I am Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares and ruler of The Dreaming and you will listen to me’ tone. To be frank it only made your cheeks burn hotter and your own eyes start glowing.

“Then get to worshipping, my king.” You softly degree, needing more than just Morpheus’s kisses. Preferably his naked skin on yours. You were relieved to find that Morpheus’s hands were now brushing across your shoulders, his long fingers now picking at the pins holdings your chiton on your upper body. His face nuzzled yours, soft breaths fanning your lips as your inhumanely beautiful lover unpinned your chiton and pushed his palms across your shoulders to bare them from any fabric that might design to hinder his view. Morpheus kept one hand gliding across your shoulder, dropping the other to break the bronze vine wrapped around your waist, free.

Your body jolted against Morpheus from his tug and you softly gasped against his lips, your hands coming to rest on his chest. A shiver went up your spine as the simple chiton was swept from your body and you were laid bare within his arms. Your eyelashes fluttered as you shifted your gaze to look into Morpheus’s beautiful eyes. This time you physically shuddered. He was looking down at you with such adoration, such ardor, such veneration. You thought, perhaps, that maybe his love for you was near uncontainable for it surely felt like it. With glimmering eyes, Morpheus lowered his lips to your shoulder and pressed kisses against the skin previously covered, whispering barely audible praises as he went.

You softly moaned from those brief kisses, feeling them ripple outwards and spreading warmth to the rest of your skin. Morpheus didn’t know what he loved more, the sound of your moans or the feel of your smooth skin beneath his lips. He looped an arm back around your waist and pressed his hand against the center of your back, pulling your naked body closer to his and moving his mouth across your collarbone.

“Your beauty rivals the brightest of stars,” Morpheus murmured against your prickled flesh, teeth scraping across the tops of your breasts and tongue darting out to taste your opulent skin. Your nails dug into grey shirt. “And I shall be in contempt for ever thinking otherwise my beautiful and radiant Hope.” You shuddered and gasped as he explored your flesh, running his lips anywhere and everywhere. Dream sank to his knees and pressed his forehead into your abdomen while gripping your hips. “Forgive me for my insolence.”

Your fingers curled into his dark strands, brushing, stroking, as Morpheus continued to whisper apologies while pressing kiss after kiss against your skin. You were near yelling at him to stop apologizing and just lavish your flesh the way you knew he wanted to, by the time his kisses reached your inner thighs. Then they turned sharper, tugging on your sensitive flesh and marking you with physical love. You let out a small whimper, feeling streaks of fire burning within your body.

“Morpheus my love, I cannot take your teasing ministrations much longer.” You whispered, feeling your legs tremble. Your trembles pleased him and your sounds were sweet music. Morpheus could feel the heat radiating from your body, certainly from between your legs where your cunt throbbed with need and attention. Nuzzling your freshly nibbled thigh and more than pleased that color was already starting to bloom there, he ran his lips up the dip between leg and mound, and languidly ran his tongue through your folds. You shuddered and gasped, Morpheus groaned in delight. Oh how he had missed the way you tasted, missed the way you shuddered and cried out beneath him. What he would give, what he would do, just to hear those sounds and taste your splendor again. 

Your head fell backwards as you moaned, thighs shivering Morpheus’s face. Humming against your sensitive and pulsating flesh, your lover hungrily began laving at your cunt. He flicked his tongue over and over, brushing it through your folds to collect your moisture and then swirled it around your clit. Sparks of pleasure exploded between your legs and your knees shook.

“Morpheus,” You gasped, fingers raking through his soft obsidian locks and clenching the strands. Softly glowing silver eyes peered up at you, surging with happiness at how you were falling apart against him. But it wasn’t just that, it was your essence rippling and surging beneath your skin, begging for more. Morpheus turned his attention back to your cunt, your beautiful, hot, wet cunt that tasted of ambrosia and stars. You cried out as his tongue slipped across a place that made your walls clench around nothingness. Your chest heaved as you panted. Was the room spinning? Were your legs really feeling like gelatin now? Morpheus sealed his lips over your clit and sucked.

Your knees buckled as a noise of panicked pleasure emerged from your throat. Oh how you wanted him to continue tasting your flesh, you wanted him to continue very much. But at this point in time you feared that your trembling legs might give out from the way they felt. You hardly wanted to keel over onto him! The first sign of you trying to shift on your feet, pull back to get your feet underneath you once more, and Morpheus was tightening his grip on your hips and sharply yanking your mound back to his mouth. Then his seductive tongue delved deeper, snaking its way across your opening and drinking directly from your body.

A strangled rasp of pleasure departed from your lips as your legs went from trembling, to shaking violently. Oh you were ever so close to being overwhelmed by the sensations Morpheus wrought to your body, and it certainly didn’t help that he was making noises of approval and satisfaction. Fingers going taught, your hands sharply yanked on Morpheus hair as warmth started sizzling. Your essence rippled as pleasure exploded from your body. In an intense orgasm that splintered in all directions, you felt your knees give shortly before your legs went numb, and you went crashing down.

Date Published: 3/27/23

Last Edit: 3/27/23

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[v3rm1nn]

I watch a show n im like ok that was good then then a single piece of fanart makes me trip and fall into the endless pit of dispair

[blacknidstang]

Had to take a break from society and finish carnivorous lamb and i feel completely ruined and euphoric and devastated and happy and tearful and i could not ask for more joy and inspiration and flood of emotions. It spoke so deeply to me especially the extremely familiar political state, the thirst for rebellion, the disdain for those who gave in to dispair and the endless need to keep living, sincere and passionate and glorious

Thank you wincest fandom for bringing this book to my attention. I am so overwhelmed positively.

[suboobia]

i realize the last four or five years have been an absolute nightmare for everyone in regards of global events, conflicts and general life. but my personal life for about a year now has felt like i am trapped in this nightmare bubble, and am not too sure how i am able to get out of that lately. i say lately because i think it's catching up to my family in the sense a lot of depression and sadness looms over us. it sucks so much. it hurts. i have the weight of the world and life sitting right on my shoulders, and it's affecting me both mentally and physically. it's been causing me sudden medical issues, and they're a little bit scary. which, obviously, leads me further down the road of stress and anxiety and i'm not sure where the end of the tunnel is right now.. this all sounds vague and scary. because it is. i don't know who i am right now or what is going on in, i just know it's been a painful time for me. for everyone around me. it's hard watching my family go through things, being a deeply empathetic person who takes everything to heard, really takes a toll on a person.

i have doctors appointments soon, and while i'm ready to get to the bottom of this sudden onslaught of medical issues, i also don't wanna know at all either. especially considering the last year has involved nothing but a lot of medical nightmares with my step dad. he's very sick right now with stage iv lung cancer, has been on treatments for months now, and we aren't sure if there's ever going to be an end to that either. as you can see, this is why life has taken an absolute toll on me and stirred up some issues within myself. because of course it did. life has a weird way of doing that... once one domino falls, the rest of the pieces keep falling with it. things always spiral all at once. i know it's apart of life, apart of being human, we go through things, but we get back up on the other side. but i'm honestly terrified. i wish the universe would stop the dominoes from toppling down endlessly.

perhaps i could just not be vague about what's happening to me. it all started about a week ago, i started my period, and then things kind of spiraled out of control from there i guess. maybe not because of my period, but i have persistent diarrhea and unable to pass a lot of gas, having bowel issues. passing mucus (maybe?) and stomach aches. not feeling well. low appetite. etc. i have fallen into so many rabbit holes at this point, and i am so fucking scared it's something scary. i have barely slept. just feel like crying. in fact, i've been crying a lot, feeling extra sensitive about everything and stressed as hell. i just am at a loss. i know some other family members have felt the same way, too, and it makes me feel even worse because like i said i have a lot of empathy.

i won't know anything until my appointment next friday, so guess i'll just be sitting here spiraling into endless pits of dispair.

[watermelontangmo]

Everyone come see my new hc

"Corinthian is The Endless's little dream/nightmare"

Dream call him that because, you know? Adoration, affection, love you name it.

Desire call him 'My favourite little nightmare' just to fuck with Dream or he might actually take a great interest in Corinthian (I haven't decided but either way I'm so down.)

Death and Dispair met Corinthian in different occasion but theirs reaction is the same "Oh, you are 'little dream/nightmare' that Dream/Desire talk about!"

[inmybook]

Ask me of future and watch me fall into endless dispair of being horribly limited to live just one life. I want to fall in love a countless times with countless people and if i can't, then want to love the very few in countless ways.

-inmybook