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cosmictapestry · 1 year

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custom morphienne smut prompt + fill list <3 categorized by Requisite Amount Of Angst <3

all of these are within the continuity of the we, divinity series on ao3, but you don’t need to read all that to Get What’s Going On. basically it’s an established relationship. the relationship being extremely codependent best friends with benefits who are madly in love.

send me a letter + number <3 these are OPEN while i am losing my mind <3

these works are also collected in my fic theophany

A. just sexy but there is likely to be crying

lucienne’s breeding kink

morphussy fingering

morpheus anal fingering

morphussy oral

face-sitting

face-fucking

morpheus’s oral fixation

lucienne’s size kink

cumplay

against a wall

lucienne’s titties II

lucienne’s ass

thigh-fucking

thigh riding

hit it from the back

“can you cum like this?” II

marking

idc just make her scream

lap grinding

sore the next morning

ball worship

against a wall: oral edition

“on your knees”

oh he’s strong 😳

vibrator

on a table/desk/counter

cumshot

morpheus rimming

pillow humping

lucienne remote toy

tittyfuck

lucienne anal

let him dress her up

throne sex

cute discussion ABOUT sex

lucienne orgasm control

morpheus lingerie

reach-around

exhibitionism

strap sucking

footjob

cock cage

use a fleshlight/sleeve on him

semi-public handjob

magical remote cunnilingus

facial

tentacles

clit tapping

B. we recognize the futility of trying to remove the agony from the sexuality

morpheus light humiliation

pegging

on the floor

morpheus’s titties

“please touch me”

lucienne edging

lotus position

missionary

cockwarming

lucienne overstimulation

“you’re making such a mess”

hand over mouth

primal play

“does that feel good?” II

cumming untouched

massage

prostate milking II

morpheus’s hands

amazon position

idc just make him scream

copious cum/wet and messy

lucienne’s ears II

morphussy scissoring/tribbing

lucienne light choking

put a collar on that man II

morphussy pegging

waxplay

normal blowjob no shenanigans

“pretty boy”

morpheus remote toy

cock ring

lucienne’s voice kink/make him talk dirty

rough him up a lil bit 😈

body painting

sweet discussion ABOUT sex

morpheus orgasm control

spooning

objectification/use kink

step on him!!!!!!!!

okay now leash him

make HER talk dirty

“who do you belong to?”

temperature play

tear that morphussy UP

reverse cowgirl (morpheus pov)

morphussy spanking

“ask for what you want”

knotting

C. suffering, but genitals are involved

“touch yourself for me”

morpheus light bondage

hand guiding

lucienne blindfolded

“do you need to stop?”

morpheus overstimulation

bathing together

praise II

“this is something i used to enjoy”

sex while weakened/drained of power

morpheus pov II

weird eldritch stuff

morpheus impact play

sex pollen

horrible terrible awful necessary discussion ABOUT sex

safeword use

make-up sex

morpheus light choking

put her in a Situation/protective morpheus

worship her

unsexy thing ayla wants to write: can't get it up

unsexy thing ayla wants to write: jealousy and not in a cute way

special requests

boobs & breeding (angstless)

lucienne/morpheus/lucien (mid-grade angst)

walked in on (hazardous angst)

sex on the flame cloak (free of angst)

#so you'd send me like b22 or whatever you're feeling #amount of angst is very much negotiable. if you want me to make you cry over sizekink i can do that for you #the sandman #morphienne #x #minors dni #bolded links are my favorite fills <3 #feel free to request one that's already been done especially if you want it combined w something else/more/less angsty #lucid dreaming #lucienne the librarian #morpheus x lucienne #dream x lucienne #sandman smut #dream of the endless smut

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cas-kingdom · 2 years

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Half-dream

A/N: I must confess, I created my OC’s backstory before watching the entirety of the show & reading the comics, so it is a little similar to Lyta’s situation (revealed in episode 8). However, not the same. (Not everything related to her existence will be revealed yet, but instead of being conceived in the Dreaming, Stella was conceived in the Waking World). I’ve no idea if this is logical according to the comics/show so I really stuck to the magic of fanfiction. Enjoy!

As it is with my Moon Knight fics, my Sandman fics won’t be written in reader style, and instead will be written with my OC, as her character is a little more complex.

Title: Half-dream

Summary: When Morpheus returns to his realm after his imprisonment, he is met not only with the desiccation of his kingdom, but the arrival of a young girl, cared for by Lucienne until now. Wary of her very existence, he brings her with him as he reclaims his tools and restores his monarchy, only beginning to see this girl as anything other than a threat when his sister steps in.

Words: 2192

When Death returned, her brother was watching the girl.

He was a black figure stood in the dim room of the soul Death had just journeyed with, arms hanging limply at his sides, eyes unblinking. Stella Russo was in the room across the hall. She had taken herself there after Death had gone. Her back was turned but her muscles were tensed, the scent of her tears clinging to the air between them. She did not want Morpheus to see.

Death crossed her arms at her chest. She took slow steps forward until she could gauge the look on Morpheus’s face. His brows were drawn together ever so faintly, mouth open only slightly. He was flexing his fingers in a vague sort of manner, as though he was battling with his unconscious desire to both go to her and leave her be.

Death couldn’t help but appreciate that. The relationship between the two was…promising. Nobody could say that the Lord of Dreams was especially affectionate, except perhaps Death herself, if she thought of the moments in which she had experienced her brother at his best. But she could tell that he held some semblance of care for this girl. She could tell his reasoning for keeping her by his side rooted less in performing his duties and more in the unspoken fact that he enjoyed the company.

Stella was an impossibility according to him, someone who should not have come into being, and would not have, had he not been encased in a glass cage and without a handle on his kingdom for so long. And yet, Death knew impossibilities happened every day. Often, they were called miracles. And the girl who should not exist, the proof of unification between two realms Morpheus had always separated, gave Death some hope that the confused, purposeless entity she had seen tossing breadcrumbs at pigeons not two hours ago would not exist for much longer. Stella had a brightness about her. If she could not provide the evidence Morpheus unwittingly craved that she was a threat to neither realm, Death was more than certain she could at least soothe the ache in his heart.

Morpheus, though not blind enough to disregard this, had yet to act upon it. As per usual.

Moving to stand beside him, Death’s eyes followed Stella as she moved out of sight and further into the room. Morpheus briefly turned his head to look at his sister. Then he turned back. “She’s upset,” he said simply.

Death nudged him with an elbow. “Most humans get distressed when they’re witness to the end of a life. They don’t understand the beauty of it.”

“She is not human.”

“She’s not not human, little brother. You can’t forget that.”

A breath of a scoff escaped Morpheus’s nose, and one of his brows quirked. “Forgetting that would contradict my purpose,” he said. Death rolled her eyes.

“Your purpose,” she echoed with a sigh. “Is your purpose not to protect your creations?”

There was a beat of silence. And then, “In part.”

“And is she not one of your creations?” An answer did not come quick enough, so Death amended her sentence. “Indirectly,” she said.

Morpeus seemed to think about it for a moment before he decided. “Yes.”

“Then go and protect her.” Death uncrossed her arms and quietly walked up to peer through the open doorway. Stella had resigned herself to staring out of the window at the far corner of the room. She was leaning against the glass, and Death could just about see her mirror image. Death turned back to look at Morpheus, who was looking straight at her. She bumped a brow, a glint in her eyes that he knew to be an implicit “do as I say.” As though to add unneeded context, she dropped her brow and uncrossed her arms, lowering her voice with her next words. “Look, Dream,” she said, “I know you’re not the most…comforting of the seven of us, but Stella’s lost a lot, perhaps more than you, and you seem to have been her only constant in the past few days.” She glanced over her shoulder. “She’s upset, and you need to go to her. Protect her from what you couldn’t then prevent.” She looked back at him. “Help her.”

Morpheus’s expression did not change. He flicked his eyes from his sister to the doorway, then took the first step. Death hung back, a victorious smile on her lips, and went to wait outside.

Stella saw him slowly approach her in the reflection of the window. Her breath hitched and she reached up to wipe at her eyes, though she knew the redness couldn’t be hidden. She felt him stop behind her, heard the rustle of his coat as he stuck his hands in his pockets, and waited for his inevitable words.

“Are you alright?”

His deep voice tore apart the silence.

Swallowing, she rubbed at her nose. “Yes.”

A beat. And another. Then, “Are you?”

Stella glanced over her shoulder, her vision blurred but just clear enough to make out his face. One brow was quirked, his head dipped the slightest bit in encouragement. Stella felt a knot rise to her throat and she made quick work of gulping back her tears and turning to the window once more.

“Do you think…” Her voice cracked and she licked her lips. She had decided that rapidly blinking would stave off the imminent sobs. So far, it was working. “Was Death there for my mother? When she died?”

The question had not been unexpected, and yet Morpheus still took a moment to consider it. Stella had not talked about her mother once since their meeting, though he supposed there hadn’t been much time. The moment he had returned to his desiccated kingdom, Lucienne had introduced him to the half-dream, and his wariness of everything he did not yet understand had caused him to unwillingly, and against Lucienne’s insistences, tug her along with him while he regained his tools, so he could ‘deal with her’, as such, later. It was only recently—recently being in the past day or so since his tools had all finally reached his grasp—that he’d found himself suddenly with no clear path ahead. In that time, he’d spared more than a glance at Stella Russo, analysing her, figuring her out, wondering on her very existence. And at the back of his very crowded mind, he supposed he was beginning to realise, admittedly with help from his sister, that the girl was little more than a sixteen-year-old. A sixteen-year-old who, according to what Lucienne had told him, had not long been dealing with the grief of her mother’s passing. Morpheus did not consider himself possessor of many redeeming qualities, but Death had told him that he was all Stella had. He supposed, in a way, Stella was all he had, too.

His eyes flicked to the open doorway to see if his sister was still there. She wasn’t. He turned back.

“I’m sure she was,” he said.

Stella nodded to herself. “Good. I like her. Your sister, I mean. I think I’d feel some kind of peace if hers was the last face I saw. I guess I just hope my mother felt the same.”

Morpheus had guessed that was perhaps her reason for such emotion. That observing Death’s job had brought about some unwanted memories.

He gazed down at the ground, pondering.

“Tell me about your mother,” he said then, slow but genuine.

Stella seemed to freeze. She looked at him a second later, a deep frown marring her features. “Really?” she asked.

“What kind of ruler would I be if I did not learn more of the bearer of such an impossibility?”

Stella shrugged. “Am I really that impossible? Did you never think a human would fall in love with their dream?”

Those words pulled at a corner of his lips. He lifted his chin and slowly moved to stand beside her, turning his own head towards the traffic of everyday people doing everyday things on the other side of the window. He could feel the coolness radiating off the glass.

“That’s not the impossible part,” he told her. He noticed her look at him from the corner of his eye, but his own vision was locked on the outdoors. “When asleep,” he continued deliberately, “mortals are powerful beings. They fall in love with their dreams because they are exactly that. Dreams. Creations of their very desires.” A woman was rushing along the path with her child. The child tripped and yelled out. “What I did not think, was that a dream would go rogue, as a nightmare often does.” The woman stopped and bent to lift her up, soothing the child’s cries. “Your mother must have been someone worth breaking rules for.”

Morpheus had considered the possibility that Stella’s father was a nightmare. Nightmares, after all, thrived in the Waking World. Whereas dreams, good dreams, could not exist very long. By his vague understanding of how his creations had turned away from their purpose while he had been…detained, he was sure that the dream in question had appeared in a mortal woman’s dreams and then escaped his realm to meet her in the flesh. His nightmares didn’t often flee simply to procreate.

Lucienne had told him that Stella’s first time travelling, awake, to the Dreaming had happened when she’d been just five years old. That was the only power he knew of so far that she had inherited from his realm. Lucienne had said that Stella never told her mother that she could travel between realms, and that Death had claimed Stella’s mother when Stella had been just fifteen. She had remained in the Dreaming with Lucienne ever since. Yes, she had lived sixteen years and would likely know if that power was not alone, but Morpheus knew that some powers only showed their faces in their own realms. Having lived in the Dreaming only a year, Stella could have the potential for more.

Did he wish to learn more about Stella’s mother for her sake, or for his own? He did not know, but he did not think it mattered.

He turned and caught Stella’s gaze just as her teeth let go of her bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’d call it going rogue,” she admitted.

“No? What would you call it?”

She hesitated. “Following the heart?”

Morpheus rose an eyebrow but said nothing more. “Did your mother truly never speak of the dream?”

Stella shook her head. “She never told me anything about my father. What he looked like, his name…that he was, essentially, a figment of her imagination.” She let a short breath of morbid amusement leave her nose. “I didn’t even know he wasn’t human until I travelled to the Dreaming for the first time.”

Morpheus’s lips curved into a smile and Stella felt the knot in her throat shift down slightly at the sight of it. “Lucienne told me of that,” Morpheus said. “Conveniently you appeared in the library.”

The first raindrop of many splashed on the outside window. Stella absently reached out to place a finger against it, following it as it trickled down towards the ground. “Lucienne told me everything I didn’t know about myself,” she said. “She taught me how to control the travelling. She could never find anything about my father, of course. It seems…everyone anyone ever knew about him died with my mother.”

She said the last words quietly, and Morpheus frowned. He knew he had treated her less than she deserved since they had begun his journey to find his tools. It had been a consequence of multiple emotions. Wariness of the unknown. Grappling for his handle once again. Challenged by all that had changed and been created in his absence. He had, in a sense, been afraid, and he could admit that now. Stella truly was no more than a young girl. He could sense the dream in her, not just in her powers but in the way she acted and simply was. She had a view on the world that was not human, though that part of her, the mortality, shone incredibly bright within her. No dream would shed tears at the sight of Death’s job. No dream would act as stubborn and resilient as she had. She was both dream and mortal, through and through, and Morpheus could find less reasons now to fear that. To fear her.

Without a word, he reached an arm across and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. Stella glanced down at it before she flicked her eyes up to meet his, an air of innocent confusion swirling amidst the green.

“I am sure your mother is watching over you,” he said.

Stella blinked. She swallowed down the lump and soon felt it disappear. She withdrew her finger from the window just as Morpheus squeezed her shoulder once and let go to walk towards the door.

“Come, Stella,” he said, stopping by the door and giving her a small smile. Times were changing, and so was he. “Let’s go home.”

Sandman Masterpost

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wilder-fangirl · 2 years

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Oh gosh guys like think about it

Lucienne being the librarian is the keeper of the books that contain dreams and Dream is all the dreams if you think about it? If that makes sense? And she acts like his keeper most of the time. Also Morpheus kind of is the Dreaming and she looked after the Dreaming for a century because she has a need to look after him and all that is his.

And thinking about that made me think of how funny it is that Cain and Abel live in the Dreaming bc when Cain killed Abel God asked him "where is the sheep-keeper?" And Cain was like "I'm not a brother-keeper."

All this to say Lucienne is the Dream-keeper

#the idiot speaks #sandman #Lucienne #morpheus x lucienne #morphienne #Morpheus #dream of the endless #is this a parallel???

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sunsorbit · 2 years

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friends romans countrymen.

i’m delighted to say that you may join us in yelling about morphienne on discord! (link in reblogs)

it’s still very cozy rn so please feel free to join us and gush about lucienne, show us your art, fics, other fanworks, share shipping thoughts, etc! 🖤

here i’ll even throw in a free lucienne doodle for yall :)

(if the link is no longer valid just shoot me or @beeccoe a message and we will arrange a new one for you!)

#the sandman #morphienne #dream x lucienne #morpheus x lucienne #lucienne x dream #lucid dreaming #lucienne the librarian

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serinmatheson1 · 2 years

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“I would not have Lucienne left alone with no word of my fate. Not again.”

I’m sorry, that screams “concerned lover” to me. Idk what anyone else says.

#morphienne #morpheus x lucienne #the sandman

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dumblesbiansworld · 2 years

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how is morpheus so shippable with EVERYONE he meets

#morpheus x lucienne #morpheus x corinthian #morpheus x hob #morpheus x johanna #the sandman

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seiya-starsniper · 3 months

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Hi! For the February prompts, I was thinking #20 for Morphienne💕

MORPHIENNE MY BELOVED 🥰💖

This was such a delight to write, and especially for Fluffbruary, I hope you enjoy friend!

Fluffbruary Prompt List || AO3 Link Here

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Repairing the damage done to the Dreaming during Rose Walker’s time as dream vortex is a long and arduous task for Dream. The realm had already been in a precarious state prior to that due to Dream’s imprisonment. Now there was even more work to be done.

Recreating Gault as a dream instead of a nightmare had been a good first step. Gault was acclimating beautifully into her new role, and it served as a reminder to Dream that while the execution was different, the lessons imparted by both dreams and nightmares were meant to ensure that humanity continued to grow, to change, to adapt to the changing times. Two sides of the same coin, as the phrase went.

The look of pure awe and admiration in Lucienne’s face had also solidified his decision to be more…open to changes. Both big and small. Lucienne had not smiled like that in a long time, Dream realized. She smiled more now, more than she had even in the centuries before his capture, and Dream did not know how bereft he had felt without her smile, her joy, her adoration, until now. Every small acquiescence, every small bit of advice from hers he heeded, Lucienne’s smile would start first in the brightness of her eyes, then slowly traverse throughout the rest of her face until it finally completed its journey in the quirk of her mouth.

Dream was no mere god. He did not need his subjects to worship him. To give him praises and smiles and offerings. But every smile and every positive word Dream receives from his raven-turned-librarian fills Dream with a warmth he had missed dearly in his days spent as nothing more than a zoo animal in Roderick Burgess’s basement. Lucienne does not look upon him like he is some feral beast rearing to strike, or as some poor creature to be pitied. She looks at him as she always had, only now with more—more.

Dream realizes later, much later than he should have for a being such a he, that she loves him. Perhaps she had always loved him, and he had never noticed. Her love was nothing like what he had experienced with lovers past. Those loves were quick and passionate, and perhaps more destructive than affectionate, in the end. He had been consumed by them, had been driven half to madness in his attempts to woo and then later, control. All his lovers had left him in the end, unable to endure his strength, his power, his unending presence within their unconscious minds.

Lucienne, by contrast, had learned to live harmoniously alongside it. Had embraced it, embraced him, in all his facets, both good and bad. She had once obeyed all his commands without question, trusting him to always know and make the right decisions in the end for the Dreaming and its people. Now she pushed boundaries and made her opinions known to him, and Dream realized he found that attractive about her. She did not believe she could do his job better than him, but she did believe that he always knew the right answer, she only need lead him towards it.

She had also waited for him, had been the only one of his subjects confident that he would come back, while the rest assumed that he had grown tired of his duty and simply left. She knew that when he finally returned, no matter if it took a hundred years, or a thousand, that he would need support in rebuilding the realm. And she had offered herself up to him without question, had maintained as much of the realm as she could without him, without him having even asked that of her.

She had always been his partner in all things, Dream realizes. And now the thought that he could ask for more of her, that she would give it to him willingly, thrilled him in a way he could not describe.

“Lucienne,” Dream calls for her one night, when he is tired and lonely and missing her. “I require your presence.”

“My lord?” Lucienne asks when she enters his sanctuary. She is buttoned up and put together as always, the purples and reds of her outfit a deep contrast to the blacks and whites of the room. She is radiant, and Dream wants.

“Will you sit with me?” Dream asks, patting the empty space next to him along the sofa.

“Of course,” Lucienne replies.

She leaves a respectable space between them that Dream does not want, and so when she turns to look at him, he moves into her space and presses his face into her shoulder, before wrapping his arms around her waist. Lucienne yelps in surprise. Her arms suspend mid-air for a few awkward moments, before finally landing on his shoulders.

“Sir?” Lucienne asks, mildly alarmed at the blatant show of vulnerability. They have never held each other like this before, and Dream realizes this has been a grave oversight on his part. “Is—is everything all right?”

“Hmm,” Dream sighs, breathing in the scent of her. She smells like lavender and old books. “I am tired,” he adds, “and I have been thinking quite a bit lately.”

“About what?” Lucienne asks.

“About you, in fact,” Dream answers, pressing his face further into her shoulder.

“Me?” Lucienne asks, a small amount of concern creeping into her voice. “Have I done something wrong, my lord?”

“No,” Dream answers. “The opposite, in fact.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucienne says, now clearly confused by his vagueness.

“How long have you loved me?” Dream asks, deciding to be blunt instead. He lifts his head from her shoulder so that they are face to face, and so he can see her reaction. He sees first the shock, then the fear, and then the acceptance that he has figured her out. She sighs a few times, then lifts a hand to run her fingers through his hair.

“I no longer remember,” Lucienne answers softly, a sad smile now crossing her face. “I think I have always loved you, in different ways.”

Dream hums, and then readjusts himself so that he is no longer lying atop Lucienne, but instead sitting upright and looking down at her.

“You have done a remarkable job of hiding it from me for all these years,” he tells her, a wry smile crossing his lips. Lucienne chuckles in response, and it is more self-deprecating than he would like it to be.

“That was rather the point, sir,” she answers, her voice now tinged with a melancholy he does not like. “I would argue that I have actually failed in my duty to keep my personal feelings private, if even you have taken notice of them.”

“If even I have taken notice?” Dream asks, affronted. Had he really been the last to notice? Lucienne’s laughter seems to confirm his suspicions.

“Sir, you are not the first to point out my affections for you,” Lucienne says, her mouth still caught in a small smile. “Matthew had made a comment earlier today, in fact.”

Dream was going to have words with Matthew later. For now, he had more pressing matters in front of him to attend to

“Lucienne, you may drop the formalities,” Dream says, reaching a hand up to cup her face. “It is only you and I here.”

Lucienne’s eyes widen, but then she turns away from him, unable to meet his eye.

“You know I cannot,” she replies, her voice returning back to that melancholy tone. “It is too intimate, and if I am allowed to call you by name, I may actually start to believe that I am—”

Dream cuts her off by pressing his mouth against hers. Lucienne lets out a small gasp when he does, and though he is tempted to deepen the kiss, Dream restrains himself, and pulls back from her mouth only the barest of inches. Her lips are warm and soft against his, and the fact that he could have had this sooner than now is almost enough to drive him to madness

“You are mine,” Dream murmurs, practically growling against her mouth. “Perhaps I am slow to catch on, but now that I am aware of your affection, I would have as much of it as you would give me.”

“Oh,” Lucienne breathes, “I—I see.”

Then she is the one kissing him now, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him flush against her body. Dream growls and then finally, finally, lets himself go for her.

#the sandman #morphienne #morpheus x lucienne #lucienne x dream #dream of the endless #lucienne the librarian #seiya writes #seiya drabbles #seiya writes morphienne

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ao3feed-morphienne · 4 months

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#Morphienne #Morpheus x Lucienne #dream of the endless #lucienne #Morpheus #dream x lucienne #sandman #ao3

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 2 years

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Help?

A/N: Delirium has left Dream a gift, before leaving after a visit to his realm. Let’s say it captivates Dream more than he expected. He’s just happy when Lucienne finds him… Vivienne Acheampong mentioned in an interview that Lucienne loves Dream and ever since I can’t stop thinking about their awesome sweet dynamic. ;__; They are like a little Dream world family. Anyway, this is slightlx stupid. But I needed to try writing a smol tickle scenario. This doesn’t work so easily for The Sandman actually, because God forbid the OOC potential. But I like how this turned out. Expect lots of banter. ^^

It was unusual. Even for a being of the Endless who had just been absent for a whole century, Dream didn’t usually tend to stay out of his throne room for quite so long.

Sure, he had just had a visit from his younger sister. But Delirium had left hours ago and Lucienne had expected to find her Master slumped on his big seat in the ivory halls, a hand over his eyes and a trace of glitter in his hair. Visits from Delirium tended to wary Dream. While her very outgoing and expressive persona enjoyed the dear affection of her brother, he did not at all know how to deal with it.

The tea cup clinked on the tray Lucienne had meant to carry to him to soothe his nerves, the sympathetic smile already in place. It was quickly replaced by an expression of wonder at finding him gone. She had waited several minutes, had called out to him, had gone back to the library to search him there.

After returning to the throne room and still finding no trace of him, Lucienne had felt a slight panic well up inside of her. Of course, all her senses had begged her to consider that he did most likely not get summoned into a cage of glass by human monsters again. He wouldn’t stay gone for another hundred years. He must have simply gone out. Yes, that must have been it.

Lucienne sighed deeply to calm her racing heartbeat and put the tray with the tea on his throne. Kindly, she asked the can to not get cold before her master had had at least one cup. Then she crossed her arms behind her back and was about to return to the library, telling herself over and over again that Dream was fine. When she heard it. It was very weak, very quiet, more like a breeze against the back of her neck. She froze in her tracks and turned around.

A small voice called her name. It wasn’t too far away. She knew she had to go to the gallery without being quite sure how she was able to tell. Morpheus must have somehow managed to reach out to her, he was leading her to him. Which meant that he was in trouble.

Lucienne started running.

————————————————————

At reaching the gallery entrance, Lucienne was already gasping for breath. She was a librarian and part-time Dream Lord, not a bloody Dreamer, fleeing from nightmares by racing down the halls of the Palace. Trying to calm her breaths, she put her hand on her chest and meant to enter into the anti-chamber of Dream’s welcoming room.

The gallery offered the means to travel to the realms of all seven siblings. It was here that Delirium had arrived and here that Dream had taken her eventually to make her leave again. For some reason, he hadn’t since left the chamber.

Lucienne’s heartbeat kept on hammering, not only due to the physical exertion. She was frankly terrified of what she would find when entering the room. Then the galloping beat skipped for a moment when she saw the slimy substance on the floor. Blue and glittering and moving slightly, it was sprawling across the floor in a serpent like manner.

Lucienne gasped, stepped over it and started searching the room for Morpheus immediately. « My Lord?? »

The usually dark gallery that mostly consisted of pillars, was blinking and glowing. Blue, violet, green and pink tentacles of slime were covering the walls, pulsating and twitching ever so slightly. It was terrifying and disturbing for anyone who didn’t go under the name of … Delirium. The adrenaline in Lucienne’s veins slowed in its stream. Oh. She could have guessed so. Another one of Delirium’s gifts then. Well, the last crazy gift had been handed to Dream over a century ago. Of course, it hadn’t been the first thing on Lucienne’s mind at seeing the disaster in the gallery.

All thought of relief washed away when her eyes eventually landed on Dream. Relief didn’t suffice to name the feeling spreading in Lucienne’s chest after that discovery. She knew her face went blank instantly, but her lips were twitching terribly and her breath came out slightly hitched. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. She chanted those two words in her head, when Morpheus’ eyes found her, misery and distress dripping from his gaze.

« Lucienne. » He winced in greeting. His voice was small and embarrassed and defeated and Lucienne did feel sorry for him, truly, she did. But the King of the Nightmare Realm, the Lord of Dreams was hanging on the wall in a weird angle, his arms pinned next to his head with glowing, colorful lianas holding him in place and his miserable face was absolutely priceless.

« My Lord. » Lucienne managed to say, bowing slightly, her arms behind her back. « I see your sister had… a little surprise for you. »

« So she did. » Dream answered and swallowed. A short silence followed in which Lucienne tried to control the urge to smile and Dream tried to avoid looking directly at her.

« Lucienne? »

She bit her lips in the most concealed way possible. « Yes, Mylord? »

« Help. »

« Yes, Mylord. »

——————————————————————

« Admission to speak freely, Sir. »

Dream eyed her warily, his white face looking even more inhuman than it usually did with the blue and green lights from the slime arms shimmering on it. Lucienne suppressed yet another grin, as she continued to methodically remove the tentacles from her Master’s body.

« Not too freely, of course » A small smile did slip on her features when he narrowed his eyes at her after that comment. « I only mean to say that I am relieved. It may appear unjust to you in your current… state. »

Dream narrowed his eyes even more.

« But I had expected far worse than this, when I felt your call of distress. » She tilted her head slightly, tearing at an especially resistant slime arm that was clinging to Dream’s elbow. He was obviously uncomfortable and she hoped the light conversation might distract him a little. « After everything that has happened to you already, I was terrified to say the least. » His dark eyes managed to look at her openly for a moment, the embarrassment making room for a bit of sympathy. She smiled sadly at him, before managing to force the glowing snakelike thing off of his black attire. « I am simply relieved that all I found upon entering in here was- »

A very traitorous chuckly hiccup interrupted her and Lucienne quickly pressed her lips together, her eyes widening in shock. Immediately she focussed on the next liana on Dream’s body, tightly wrapped around his forearm. Oh no. Why did this have to be so funny?

She could feel Dream’s eyes on her and tried to appear very busy, very engaged in battle with the crazy tentacle bomb Delirium had left her brother with.

But the grin fought for more room on her face, when Morpheus spoke again, a smile audible in his voice as well - though to call it amused wasn’t exactly true. It seemed more like a shocked smile, a surprised and slightly offended smile.

« Lucienne, are you - laughing - at me? » His eyebrows raised, he tried to crane his neck, to look her directly in the face, despite one small tentacle that was stretched over his throat and chin.

« No!! Mylord, I would- I would never! » She coughed out, the little chuckles harder and harder to conceal. « I’m- I’m sorry, it’s just- »

« Yes? It is just what? » He challenged, his own incredulous smile staying in place. A small part of Lucienne was delighted to see this expression on her King’s face and she noticed herself thinking oh is this how we’re doing it? She did truly not mean to go too far, but Dream of the Endless was rarely offended into smiling. She had to continue just a little longer. She loved him after all. And she was happy when he had a reason to smile - even if it was out of disbelief.

« It’s just, Mylord, that I am deeply sorry for any discomfort I may be causing in the process of your liberation from this fearsome threat. I’m- I’m merely trying to conceal my tears with a smile. »

Lucienne was thrilled when she saw Dream’s curled lips open into an even more offended expression than before. A quiet huff was followed by a very speechless « Humph. » Her Master averted his gaze again, but there was a small trace of amusement on his countenance still. Lucienne smirked openly. « If I may be so bold, Mylord- »

« Ah? » His eyebrows moved up, a twinkle in his eyes.

Moving to a tentacle that was wrapped around Dream’s ribcage, Lucienne continued lightly: « Your sister did most likely only fulfill the duties of her true nature, when she offered you a gift like this. »

Expectantly, Morpheus’ gaze remained on her face. She moved her fingers down the glowing sling around Dream’s ribs and tried to get a good grip on it, unaware of the way he suddenly tensed up under her touch.

Isn’t it possible that Delirium first and foremost tried to delight you with her present? »

« C-Careful, Lucienne! » Dream suddenly hissed out, his arms jerking in the captive grip of the colorful snakes. Surprised Lucienne raised her brows and looked at him. He appeared even more distressed than he had before their little banter.

Worry immediately washed over her and she looked back at her hands. Her fingers were currently trying to force a liana away from Dream’s left ribcage, the pressure of the fingertips apparently causing a reaction from him. She felt awful immediately.

« Oh no! Are you hurt, Mylord? I am so deeply sorry for my amusement. I did not conceive you were in actual pain! Did these tentacles damage anything? » She started prodding at Dream’s ribs and felt the bad conscience rise within her, when he yelled loudly at the touch.

« DON’T! » He barked, the vivid twinkle in his eye intensifying even more. « Lucienne, wait, wait, wait, please- »

His slightly bent posture and choice of words, the obviously distressed expression of almost anguish on his face were enough for Lucienne to use a different voice on him. That happened mostly when she was worried out of her mind and he didn’t seem to wish for her concern.

« Mylord! We need to know the extent of damage done to your physical form or I could make it worse. » She was close to livid, when he howled again at her fingers making contact with his ribcage, his head thrown back against the wall and his teeth digging into his bottom-lip. She didn’t mean to hurt him, but she had to find the problem.

« I am so terribly sorry for the discomfort, Sir. But I cannot feel a broken bone, nor- »

« Lucienne. I’m bEGginG yOU! GET your hAND OHOFF! »

Frozen in her tracks, Lucienne did as she was told. She stared at him, silently, as he tried not to gasp for air too much. The corners of his lips were still turned up slightly, the twinkle in his eyes was one of mirth. He had begged her to stop. Not because it was painful… Slowly the pieces were falling together. Of course. Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear!

This entire scenario reached, for Lucienne, a whole new level of amusement. Never would she have expected to find out anything about Dream that managed to surpass the hilarity of him stuck to a wall with glowing light sticks. But here they were and she was now in possession of the knowledge that the Dreamlord was ticklish.

After several more moments of Dream breathing unnecessarily and Lucienne observing him innocently while doing so, they seemed to come to the agreement of this-never-happened which they both agreed to merely by staring at each other.

Lucienne raised her eyebrows and got back to work on the tentacle removal in silence for a while. She was extra careful now. Despite holding all the power and all the advantages of the situation, she did, in no way, wish to ridicule him too much. Still. She felt very comfortable with the silence, while the Lord of embarrassment- er dreams didn’t seem to stop being fidgety and nervous under her working hands. It was quite adorable, actually.

« Lucienne. » He eventually croaked out, his face a white paper with the words I HATE MY EXISTENCE written on it. Her grin was small enough to prevent any exclamation marks from appearing behind them. « I suppose your theory about Delirium’s present of delight was false after all. »

Chuckling gently, Lucienne removed two more lianas. Suddenly they were much easier to get rid of. « I’m not sure, Mylord. I think the amount of delight you expressed satisfied these things. »

Dream furrowed his brows, only to raise them in awe when Lucienne managed to remove the remaining light arms from his body in seconds. Freed, he landed on his feet and shook out his arms. Warily he looked back at the network of lights and colors that started to shrink from the walls now, folding back in on itself until it was nothing more but a little glowing package on the floor.

« It seems advisable never to open a gift from your sister again, Mylord. » Lucienne mused, stepping next to him, raising a brow when the Dreamlord twitched slightly next to her.

« Yes. I suppose. » Turning his head towards her, he narrowed his eyes. It was a question and yet again, a challenge.

Ever so slightly, Lucienne allowed herself another grin. « If your sisters wish so dearly to delight you, I figure there are other methods that may promise more successful. »

With a gentle nod that was essentially the answer to his unasked question - of course, she wouldn’t tell anyone about this - she turned around to leave for the library again. When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he was looking after her with a smile of his own. Delirium’s present had succeeded in its purpose after all.

And if Lucienne ever did allow herself a poke to his ribcage again, it was only when no one else was around and only to startle him. Or to cheer him up. Or to simply get him to narrow his eyes at her in that rather adorable defiant manner.

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