#vampire!morpheus

[roguelov]

Crimson Stained Petals (Chapter 4)

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: Fem

Warnings: minor angst (dealing with nightmares and depression), mostly fluff, pining, blood (reader gets minor cut)

Chapter 3 and more chapters to come!

Over the few days, Morpheus had noticed a dreary cloud forming and seemingly growing over your head. It casted its gloom and rain dampening your radiance. Your smile was not quite as bright, it barely reached your now sullen eyes. Your presence was no longer felt in every room. Your laughter, your occasional humming, your musical-like steps were gone. You were a shadow, a husk. And big by bit, you retreated from him; you actively avoided him, or so he believed.

“Lucienne,” Morpheus asked one evening.

The pair was in the study. Papers littered all over the desk along with uncapped inkwells and used fountain pens. They poured and poured over the dull necessities of maintaining the bookshop - going over profits, bills, shipments, and new orders.

Lucienne peered at her lord over her glasses quizzically. “Yes?”

“Have you spoken with our dear mortal recently?” Morpheus still stood over the desk and continued to scan over documents, trying not to look bothered by his inquiring question or your sudden change.

“No, I haven’t.”

A tension set in his jaw. “I see.”

Lucienne quickly picked up on Morphues’s displeasure. A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. She was not oblivious to her lord’s far more chirper attitude since welcoming you into the manor. “May I ask what brought up this question?”

“Curiosity,” he replied nonchalantly.

Lucienne hummed, unconvinced. “Curiosity? Or concern?”

Her question stirred a reaction out of him. Morpheus whipped his head, now facing Lucienne directly. “And if I am, is there anything wrong in worrying about her?” His question was one of concern for you, yet his tone in which he spoke was biting - what exactly was Lucienne implying?

Lucienne’s smile only grew. She calmly responded, “No, sir.”

Upon seeing Lucienne’s calmness, Morpheus’s shoulders instantly dropped. His anger was misplaced. All the fight was drained from him, and soon the truth spilled out. “She -“ he sighed - “she does not seem happy and … and I do not know if it is because of living here or because of troubled nights.”

Lucienne thought of how there was an easy solution to his conundrum: he should speak with you. However, she held her tongue this time and instead opted to ask a question regarding you. “Troubled nights?”

“The other night, she spoke of having a nightmare.” Morpheus’s eyes shone with a heavy sorrow. “She … she was utterly frightened, Lucienne. Her fear nearly choked me.”

Lucienne frowned. “I was not aware, but a nightmare is a nightmare. There is not much one can do.”

Morpheus sighed, dropping into his chair. He tipped his head back and stared blankly up at the high ceiling. His heart - ancient and heavily barricaded - ached to see you smile. Just once more, just for a moment. In such a brief period, you had invaded his thoughts. He did not realize he craved it, sought it out, until it was taken from him.

Taken.

It seemed many things were taken from him in recent years. He pushed aside those thoughts and painful memories. He ran his hands over his face then through his tousled hair. Such complex feelings swirled inside his chest and constricted his heart.

“You care for her.” Morpheus lifted his head, looking towards Lucienne. She continued, “Which is never a bad thing, sir. She has brought new life here.”

And in you, she thought.

“I care for all of you,” he answered, dismissing her comment.

“You do, and we appreciate it.”

He raised an eyebrow at the weighted pause at the end of her sentence. “But?”

She smiled to herself. “I believe the care you feel for us and her are different.”

Morpheus frowned. Was he truly so easy to read? Did he truly become enamored with his housekeeper so quickly like a tale of forbidden romance? Did he truly want a partner … or did he want something else? He turned his head away, grumbling to himself.

Care? If one could call it such.

Does a farmer not care for his slaughter? Care, hunger, desire, it all can twist together. They can form into complex knots, making it impossible to tell where one may begin or end.

“For you, my lord.”

A beautiful picturesque rose dripping in a passionate red appeared in front of Morpheus’s face. He was working tediously in his study, and surprisingly failed to hear him. He just appeared, a magical and strange habit of his.

Morpheus blinked, gently taking the rose out of his hand. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

He smiled warmly like a sunny day. His wondrous new grander had already made such a change in the once dismal manor. Colors of all sorts were injected into the very foundation. Flowers bloomed wildly and freely, life blossomed with a new fever. “I thought you might like it, sir. Red suits you perfectly.”

”How do you do it, Lucienne?” Morphues whispered softly, changing the conversation. His voice was filled with sorrow as memories resurfaced. Sweet, painful memories, ones he wished he could forget yet also wouldn’t trade anything in the world for they were more precious than any gold or jewelry.

“Meaning what, sir?”

”To be close to her, to not be affected by her?”

Ah.

”Well, someone taught me control.” Lucienne slowly organized papers. “Someone had once found me in an awful state and was able to bring me back to my senses. Now, part of me cannot bare the smell of human blood without my stomach twisting into disgust.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened.

Lucienne gathered up the papers, ready to part of the night. “A solution to your problem: perhaps you can try to talk to her and cheer her up, sir. I’m sure she would appreciate the gesture.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how would I do that?”

She chuckled, almost in a knowing way, and strolled out of the study. “I believe you will figure it out, sir.”

The soft click of the door echoed in the now quiet, lonely space. Morpheus peered over to the window with its curtains drawn. Even drawn closed, the setting sunlight streamed through the cracks trying to warm the earth in its last moments. Tilting his head, he saw the surrounding woods fade in the dying light. As his gaze darted around taking in the surroundings, it landed on a corner of dark greens and deep reds. Lucienne’s words replayed in his head. He was on his feet, already looking for you before he fully understood it himself. His feet carried him downstairs towards your room, however he stopped in the dining room. Looking ahead, he instead saw you sitting in the sun room. You were on the couch with your back to him and your head bowed. He immediately changed course.

Quietly, he opened the door. The potted trees and fauna stretched its shadows and created unique jagged shapes. A soft orange bathed over the room. The fractured soft light shone through the glass and casted you in an ethereal halo of twinkling gold.

You were a goddess of light.

As he walked towards you, you did not stir. You had heard him by the high pitched squeak of the door and the faint clacking of the heels on the tile floor. He stopped by your side, peering down at you. “I see you are still reading that book from before.”

You laughed, a quick huff through your nose, and closed the book in your lap. You glanced up at him with a forced smile. “Trying and failing, sir.”

His eyes swept over your face. Gaunt was the first word to come to mind. You appeared gauntly and ragged. Bags were carved under your eyes, and your skin had lost its glow. He pushed on, trying not to dwell and stare at your new appearance. “And what has your mind occupied this time?”

The other night. The nightmares. An unpleasant past. You.

“I suppose a lot of things,” you answered with a heavy sigh.

Morpheus frowned slightly. Yet, he quickly wiped it away, replacing it with a small endearing smile. He extended his hand down towards you. “I know a place to help clear your mind, would you care to join me?”

Your eyes flickered up. His dazzling blue eyes - contrasted against the golden dazzling air - only showed kindness and a hint of concern. You should refuse, you should stay or perhaps return to your room for the night, but … but how could you say no? Not when he looked at you in such an alluring way, and not since he piqued your deep rooted curiosity. You carefully set the book aside on the plush cushions, and placed your hand in his. “I would love to.”

Morpheus’s smile grew as he drew you up to your feet. “Wonderful.”

He hooked your arm through his and guided you forward. Together, you walked out through the back entrance of the sun room, heading directly for the rose maze. The sun had dipped below the horizon, however its last bits of rays faintly colored the sky. Oranges and pinks still stained the vast canvas known as the sky. They desperately clung behind as rich purples, dark blues, and an all consuming black began to drip down coating all corners. The moon, perfectly sliced in half, already shone in the dimming sky. Its companions, stars, began to twinkle and fill the empty space for the moon was never alone. The rose maze, under this changing light, was mysterious. The greens almost appeared black, while the reds were embers of a dying fire. Excitement buzzed across your skin. Your heart flipped, nearly dropping into your stomach. It was all so thrilling to finally set food inside, and to be by Morpheus’s side as your guide.

Even if you shouldn’t, even if a logical part scolded you.

Morpheus drew you close as you approach the entrance of the maze. “Now, stay close. At night, it can be tricky to navigate.”

There was a hint of humor in his voice as if he was trying to spook you. You chuckled, shaking your head, “Really? Is that your plan? To take me in and do what you want without anyone seeing?”

He laughed, a deep rich laugh that vibrated in your own chest. “You have me figured out.”

You smiled, a true genuine smile. It returned as if it never truly left. It was nice to be joking and laughing with him. It was surprisingly so easy, like two friends and nothing else.

No titles, no past.

Stepping into the maze was stepping into another world. The maze hedges were easily seven feet tall and two or three feet wide, it fully blocked out the world the further you walked in. The hedges were cut and trimmed to perfection. No branch stuck out, only roses. And the roses? Gorgeous with no flaws. There were full roses with their petals spread out to greet you, there were buds still closed waiting for their time, and there were roses in every stage of blooming covering almost every inch of the hedges. The sweet floral aroma tickled your nose and filled the air.

You hummed, pleased by the scent.

Morpheus peered over at you, taken by your wide curious eyes. Your eyes darted all around, fascinated by it all, memorized by its beauty. Strolling further in, he followed the correct path leading to the center of the maze. His stride did not hesitate, but only slowed when your eyes longingly lingered back on all the passing flowers.

Best of all, and to your surprise, there weren't only red roses.

No, the deeper you walked the red stayed, yet yellows, pinks, and whites were slowly incorporated into the mix. A beautiful blend, and various shades, of warm inviting colors. It was like a storybook, a scenery plucked from a far off prosperous kingdom. Tempted by their beauty, you reached out, running your fingers along the soft petals. It was fine silk, or like a cloud.

“Careful -“

You hissed, stopping in place. A thorn had pricked your thumb.

Morpheus instantly frowned and moved in front of you. He carefully took your hand, examining your thumb. It was nothing to be concerned about. An insignificant prick, no worse than a paper cut. A small dot of blood began to well up. The dot sparkled like a certain ruby pinned to his tie. Before he could stop himself, Morpheus brought your thumb up to his lips. His lips - soft and gentle - pressed into the pad of your thumb kissing it.

Your heart flipped in your chest.

Morpheus’s eyes glanced up, locking with yours. A look flashed across his eyes, a look which could only be described as hunger. He nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs by such a simple look. He pulled away and dropped your hand. Turning his back to you, he mumbled, “Apologies for my behavior.”

He licked his lips, tasting the tiniest bit of your blood. He had to suppress a groan. It was truly addicting, like a newly discovered liquor he could happily get drunk off of each and every night.

“I have an older sister who used to do such a thing if any of us were injured. It’s a habit I unknowingly picked up,” he explained.

No, not explained but excused. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. However, it was a lie he told himself and you, rather than admit the aroma of your blood tempted him to act.

“It’s okay,” you muttered, feeling your heart skip in a way you had never felt before. “I should have known better.”

Morpheus wanted to say something, wanted to do something. He wanted to draw you close, he wanted to wrap his arms around your waist, he wanted to nuzzle his face into your neck, he wanted to hear you say his name over and over, he wanted to -

“Please,” he cleared his throat, “I would refrain from running your fingers over them. The thorns are quite sharp, and we needn’t any more accidents. Come, the center is up ahead.”

He walked - no, marched - ahead, and did not bother looking back to see if you were following.

Your lips thinned in thought. You silently followed him as this bizarre tension hovered in the shared space. The only sounds were the crunching of both of your shoes against the pebbled path. You eyed Morpheus’s back curiously and with some trepidation. He had once again pulled away from you. He showed you such kindness, yet almost scared by something he backed off. Why? What frightened him? What thoughts floated around in that head of his?

Why do you care, a voice called out.

You tensed a little. Why did you? It was so pointless and idiotic, especially when -

“We’re here,” Morpheus said. He rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Skirting around the hedge, you let out a small gasp. The pebbled path opened up. The space was carved into a perfect circle, with patches of lush full grass that tempted any tired feet to rest. One could lay and gaze up at the stars, or have a picnic in the high sun. However, most would turn to the concrete benches that surrounded the showstopper: a fountain at the very center. The fountain - smaller than the one in front of the house, yet had four tiers compared to the three - had dozens upon dozens of rose petals floating across the surface. Peering up, the moon looked back down at you in this secret oasis smiling. Its light rippled in the water, scattering its reflection. With the various colors from the roses, and the moonlight’s, it glittered here like a treasure trove.

It was breathtaking.

Morpheus glanced over his shoulder back to you. His heart lurched forward. You looked so beautiful under the moonlight. You slowly approached the foundation, dipping your fingers into the cool water. You picked up a petal, admiring it before setting it back into the water. A smile never left your lips. Any issues, any problems from before, were gone. Each of you solely existed in this moment. Morpheus felt his heart being drawn to you, bound to you. Anything you wanted, anything to keep you smiling, he would do.

What a frightening and thrilling feeling, so familiar yet so foreign to him.

You moved and sat down on the bench, watching as the water spilled over the tiered edges and as petals spun and danced on top of the water. The sounds of the water splashing, and trickling, was hypnotic and soothing. You sighed dreamily and murmured to yourself, “What a beautiful place.”

“It is.” You turned your head, looking up at Morpheus. His eyes were directly on you as he spoke, you always seemed to get his full attention. He smiled softly. He produced a rose from behind his back - a pure white rose that glittered like snow under the moonlight. He sat beside you on the bench, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, tucking the roses behind your ear. As he drew back, his nimble fingers skimmed along your jaw. His eyes softened. You truly were a fresh change in his life, a well needed change. You had taken his heart in the short time you worked here with your humor, your wit, your curiosity, and your kindness. He was smitten for deep in his heart he was a hopeless romantic.

He turned away from you, looking to the fountain. Your heart skipped. His touch burned across your skin. You reached up, touching the soft pure white petals. A smile crossed your lips as you stared at the multifaceted lord.

“I suppose I have to admit I do have an ulterior motive for asking you to join me,” he began.

“Oh?” You titled your head. “And what would that be?”

To see you smile again, he thought.

“I have a question to ask, a request, and I did not want anyone else to listen in.”

You leaned forward, silently waiting.

He bowed his head, and dare you say appeared to be almost shy. It surprised you to see him in such a way. He peered up at you with a cluster of unreadable emotions on his face. “I would like to ask if you would join me to attend my dear friend’s party.”

“What?” You breathed out.

“I want you to accompany me to Hob’s party, if you so wish to join me.”

“I … I am unsure. I am just taken back by your offer.”

“Do you truly find it so surprising?”

“Given my employment to you, I suppose I do,” you joked lightly.

“If you wish, think of it as a bonus for your wonderous upkeep of the manor.” He searched in your eyes hoping to find his answer. “So? Do you accept?”

You smiled softly, “How could I pass up such generosity? Yes.”

Lucienne was right. Morpheus knew exactly what to do.

Shortly after his surprising offer, Morpheus explained he will take care of anything. He will find a dress for you for the night, and pay all expenses - you reluctantly agreed after much arguing.

Soon, arm in arm again, he guided you out of the maze, and towards your room for the night. He paused in front of you, hovering slightly as if something weighed on him, as if he wished to say something else. His lips parted, but he just bowed his head. “Goodnight, I hope you have sweeter dreams tonight.”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head.

Say something, do something.

Instead, you just simply smiled. “Goodnight, sir.”

You twisted around to go into your room when a hand latched around your wrist. You suppressed a shiver at his cool hand. You peered over your shoulder looking down at the hand then slowly your eyes trailed up to see Morpheus’s wondrous blue eyes.

“Please,” he whispered softly, “when it is just us, call me Morpheus. No need for such formalities.”

Your heart fluttered, like a hummingbird. “Of course. Morpheus. Goodnight.”

His eyes twinkled, utterly overjoyed. A smile spread over his lips. He gently let go of your wrist and stood back with perfect posture. He bowed his head again, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You turned, finally stepping into your room. You gently shut the door as a giddy feeling washed over you. Morpheus’s footsteps soon faded away. You sighed, dreamily. Taking the rose from behind your ear, you floated over to the nightstand by your bed. You gently laid it down. Your fingers traced over the petals, unable to stop smiling. Maybe later you will get a cup and water for it. Your eyes, however, soon caught a folded piece of paper on the stand. Your smile faltered. Picking it up and unfolding it, your mother and father smiled back up at you. You folded the picture again. You tucked it under the beautiful white rose.

Just a little longer, you thought. I promise.

[fastlikealambo]

the invitation.|| a vampire!dream of the endless x black fem!reader fic sneak peek

summary: too kind for your own good, you release a trapped man in your boss's basement and strangely enough forget all about it.

one year later, you're invited to his wedding as a thank you for saving his life. as your memories of that fateful night start to return and things go bump in the night, you realize there's something very strange going on.

where is the bride?

a vampire! morpheus fic inspired by the movies the invitation and crimson peak. heavy on the gothic romance and melodrama.

18+ only, ageless and blank blogs will be ignored.

sneak peek

A year of blood and yearning.

For each hour Dream had spent imprisoned, he would take his due in blood. That was a thing about the wealthy, they loved legacies, held the luxury of well recorded bloodlines, not that he needed that. 

Every single Burgess and Burgess adjacent mortal was drained of blood, an avenging feast of retribution for their crimes against him.  He drank his way through cousins and uncles, he sipped on acolytes and jailers,  dined and dined till his supper of punishment left him full.

And after that, the vampire yearned.

For you.

You were what saints should pray to.

The vampire was not a religious person but he would tear the devil in two for a single chance to dip between your brown thighs and drown.  

For that reason alone, Dream had work to do.

No throats to sink into or ravenous revenge to distribute, this was completely different, this was the crescendo of his immortal life’s work and it was all for you.

The vampire of dreams was taking a wife. 

And what a beautiful bride you’d make. 

@pinksirensong 

@xasement

@morpheus-helm 

@darkfairy102190 

[colesawicn]

category is gay and immortal

[voukkake]

When the moon is full, he can barely control himself...

[dogrom]

Sandman Vampire AU “The beginning 1/2″ 2/2>> THE BEGINNING 2/2

Dream is a vampire with one big problem, he doesn’t like hunting and hurting humans. He’s a very old vampire and lives with his big sister Death she’s the first vampire that turned him into what he’s today. One vampire that never leaves his side is Corinthian he was turned by Dream and is a very loyal partner. There is more lore but I might just draw it jsdajsdh TO BE CONTINUED

[ediyo-15]

got an au i kinda wanna write. probably won’t. bone apple teeth

[sevenbloodynightsvn]

New lineup chart

[lovinodrawz]

Hobeintheus Vampire AU edition

[missmisnomer]

Sea that baptises and touches and tastes. Sea of blood. Sea of love.

Morpheus is the ageless, formless, eldritch King of Nightmares and frankly, we don't get enough representation of that fact. Give me the sumptuous horror, the luscious longing, the depths of insanity. Give me a monster worth loving, and the human crazy enough to do it.

Thank you for the meal @landwriter, your fic drives me absolutely feral. And thanks to @teejaystumbles, who with one image created a concept so potent it proceeded to knock me out of my art funk.

[roguelov]

Crimson Stained Petals

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: ~3.9k

Reader: Neutral (unspecified now, however fem leaning)

Warnings: Mostly establishing characters, minor pining, hints of bloodlust

Chapter 2 and future chapters to come!

A advertisement in the newspaper, and a purpose.

A live-in house servant wanted. Duties required as such including cleaning and maintaining cleanliness of said home, laundry - including washing, folding, and ironing linens, occasional shopping, and menial requests asked of the owner, however cooking skills are unnecessary. Contact at -

You tucked the clipped ad into your pocket. You leaned back, and lazily glanced out the dusty window. The carriage bounced over the dirt path, kicking up dust clouds. A forest, thick with little sunlight penetrating through the tall treetops, surrounded the carriage on both sides. One turn, one stray off the path, and you would be lost. A poor soul taken by the creatures and ghosts of the woods. A soul whose name would drift off into oblivion in a day.

You bent forward, trying to sneak another glance at the manor - at your new home.

“Please, follow me this way.”

You were led by a woman, with round glasses, and wore a well tailored suit. She held her head high, yet her eyes shone with an unbelievable kindness. Walking in, you tried to sneak a peek over the expansive, and expensive, home: the chandler in the center of the main foyer - a globe of dripping starlight, the crown molding etched with swirling elaborate designs, two staircases carved from a rich warm wood curved upward to the second floor, the wall were mostly in dark tones - each room a designated color from greens, reds, blacks to creams - and some covered in wallpaper mimicking a lace design, however the showstopper was the stained glass window above the front door which reached to the top of the two story home - it depicted a tree in a sea of roses, dare you say a version of Eden.

The home was draped in dark, ominous tones, but where light shone it shone brightly cutting back the dread.

If only the sunlight was out now. It was setting, casting shadows across the floors and onto the walls. And with the dense forest, night arrived much faster.

The woman directed you to a small, parlor room to the right of the entrance. Cozy, would be how you would describe the room. A place to talk with guests. There were two sets of couches and a few chairs with a table. Cream tones covered the room, breathing fresh life compared to the diming home. The fireplace, however, was unlit and the curtains were drawn closed for the night leaving a chill. It was a give and take.

“Please, sit.” The woman pointed to any of the seating options.

You nodded, and chose the couch directly across from the other, with the table adding a division. The woman smiled, and sat across from you.

“I’m not sure if I properly introduced myself initially, so apologies for such odd behavior. You may call me Lucienne,” the woman, Lucienne, spoke.

“Lucienne,” you greeted with a small bow of your head. “It is wonderful to now be formally acquainted. You may call me (Y/N).”

You were pleased to skip past such stiff formalities of sir, ma’am, mister, and misses.

Lucienne smiled, softly reaching her eyes. “Wonderful. Now, I am the one who will be conducting this interview for the job.”

You cocked your head, your confusion written plainly on your face. “The lord will not be joining us?”

“No, unfortunately, he is a busy man and has asked for me to do this in his stead. Is this okay?”

“Oh, yes, please continue.”

Lucienne nodded. “Okay, then let us start. I will begin with a simple question: why have you decided to apply?”

You fiddled with your hands, suddenly very nervous. “I’m new in town, and have been staying at the local inn. This job provides an opportunity for myself, and I cannot deny the pay piqued my interest.”

“Do you have any experience in housework?”

“Not professionally, however, I have cared after my uncle for years and have done most of the housework when living with him.” You looked out of the parlor back to the main grandiose foyer. “I will admit the size of the manor is quite daunting and intimidating, but I like a challenge. It will keep my mind and hands busy.”

Lucienne smiled, pleased with your response. However, her smile soon flickered. She straightened her posture, and cleared her throat. “Allow me to be less formal for a quick moment, I have a more personal question to ask. It’s more for my own curiosities.”

Your eyes locked back with hers. “Please, ask.”

She paused, struggling to find the correct wording. “Have you heard of the rumors surrounding the manor? Do … do they not frighten you?”

Ah.

“I have, but only a few. And I am not afraid, I am here for work and pay. As long as I can do what I can, and not stir any trouble for the lord then I will be content.”

Lucienne nodded, her smile returned. “I do believe we have found a new member of our manor.”

Your heart soared.

“However, allow me to discuss with my lord and to see if any other applicants apply. Please, you will hear from us by the end of the week.”

“Wonderful.”

The carriage pulled around the massive stone fountain - a simple three tier tower in which water gently spilled over the edges. Water lilies floated amongst the top as they were rock side to side by the small turbulence. You hopped out, taking in the manor once again.

A truly haunting, gothic visage.

It was built out of mute grey stones and harsh angles. Tall spires extended from the roof to the heavens. The stained glass window over the front door shone almost calling out to you like an exotic Venus flytrap - a beautiful front hiding a dark truth. All the tall thin windows had their curtains drawn forbidding anyone from peeking in.

Yet, life bloomed around it.

Willows trees hugged the manor, and its limbs danced in the wind beckoning all to seek shelter under them. Bushes with various flowers blossomed in front of the manor along the building’s edges. Around the side, a greenhouse stood proudly with countless vegetables and beside it, curving around the whole back side and unable to fully see from the front, was a maze formed out of lush full rose bushes. The brightest, and darkest, red roses you ever seen - the red of rising passions, the red of forbidden attractions, the red of blood spilled under the moonlight.

It truly was a serene place. A place of mystery and wonder.

“Your luggage.” You spun around, finding the coachman holding your two carryon bags. Your entire life packed neatly. He asked, “Do you -“

“Oh, no, I’ve got it. Thank you.” You took your bags.

The coachman stared, and squinted with a hint of uncertainty. His eyes flickered over your shoulder to the manor. “Okay,” he mumbled, then left.

He spun on his heel and hopped back into the carriage. With a flick of the reins, the horse whined and trotted off. May God have mercy on your soul, I will be praying for you. It all lingered on the man’s tongue, but didn’t speak aloud. For if he did, he believed whatever sick imaginations his twisted mind thought of would come to fruition. He was from an older generation, one who still believed in devils and creatures of the woods, one who warned all children of the dangers of leaving the house under the full moon. Heading down the dusty road, and once away from the manor’s sight, he finally mumbled a prayer for you.

You approached the manor - your new home for the unseeable future - with the setting sun tucked behind the foliage. You peered over your shoulder, watching as the carriage slipped out of sight. It was happening. It truly was happening.

Inhaling, you steadied yourself.

A new chapter.

You exhaled, calmly your anxious heart. You reached out, and pressed the ornate doorbell. A soft chime buzzed. Your anxiety, however, could not be quelled. You tightened your grip on your bags. Your body betrayed you, unable to settle, and your mind started to spiral into insanity.

You needed this job.

You needed to do this.

You have dealt with much worse, and yet you also wanted to tuck your tail and run. No. You vehemently shook away those fears. You will stay. You will do your job. You will start this new part of your life.

The door unlocked, and swung open with a high pitched creak. Your breath hitched, momentarily startled. You expected to see the familiar face of Lucienne, instead you were greeted with the lord of the manor.

Lord Morpheus.

He was a man of stature and wealth. He held himself with the utmost dignity with perfect posture - chin leveled with the floor, back straight, and his shoulders pushed back and downward. His chiseled features were carved out of marble, his pale skin had no blemishes. His short, cropped black hair swept back. And not a single hair was out of place, or dared to be. His eyes locked with yours. Instantly, you were small, you were a child again. A spike of fear crackled over your skin. His eyes were calm, a steady practiced calm. Yet, as he studied you, a twinkle shone in them - if it was a twinkle of interest, you could not say.

He certainly was attractive, exceptionally so.

His clothes neatly pressed. He draped himself in night’s cape: black. His midnight black vest was finely embroidered with a somewhat floral design - adding a softness to him. Two rows of silver buttons lined his vest, along with a silver chain tucked into a pocket. If it was attached to a watch or simply for design, you couldn’t tell by a quick scan. Under the vest, his dress shirt - a pale grey like a storm cloud rolling in - puffed out at the sleeves and tapered at the wrists. The cuff links were small, yet resembled starlight. With each catch of the light, they dazzled like a miniature universe - it must be an expensive jewel embedded into them. The collar, stiff and high, was wrapped in a silk black puff tie, smoothed nicely against his chest. A perfectly crafted ruby brooch was pinned to his tie. Scanning downward, his trousers were also black and tailored, and his shoes were polished as if dirt never touched them.

However, his eyes captivated you. It was the only other color on him: a pale, sparkling blue. They seemed to glow in the setting sunlight. They were swirling galaxies, they were diamonds forged in promises, they were oceans holding all its mysteries and mythology.

He seemed to be from another time, like an ode to the renaissance.

With your little time spent in town, you had still learned quite a lot about Lord Morpheus. He was a recluse who rarely left his manor, his crafted realm. And soon, whispers of witchcraft followed. Some of the townspeople still believed in folklore, and if anyone ventured off the beaten path they would be whisked away. Taken then killed. Rumors of animals gone missing, along with young adults, did little to ease their worries. Yet with no evidence, speculation stirred. So, why not point fingers at the man who hardly made an appearance with the town?

However, although he never made an appearance, his influence rippled throughout. His constant donations to the local school and businesses rebutted all such weary thoughts. He owned a local bookshop in town which was adored by most - with the expectation of those who believed the devil lurked between those shelves. He was also the CEO and founder of an editing and publishing company. He let stories into the world, and he encouraged creativity. He was the man to uplift the underdogs, but such kindness had a price. His editing, his notes on stories sent in, were cutting. Such harsh critiques were enough to discourage a few despite the reasonable payment for his services.

He was truly a man of absolute power.

“I’m sorry,” you bowed your head. “I was expecting Lucienne.”

“She is away most of the day to care for the bookshop,” he answered easily.

His voice was so surprisingly low that it rattled you to your core. He spoke at an even pace, lulling you. A voice truly perfect for telling any and all stories.

“Of course,” you said as if you knew such information.

“You must be our newest member, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He continued.

“I am.”

“Lord Morpheus.” His outreached hand hovered between you. Quickly, you dropped your bag, and took up his hand. A chill ran through you at the contact of his skin. He bent forward, and kissed your hand. “Pleasure, and I hope your stay here is enjoyed.”

“Thank you for allowing me into your home,” you said with a nervous smile.

Morpheus eyed you for a moment, but moved on. He dropped your hand, and motioned into the manor. “Allow me to show you to your room.”

“Thank you.”

You moved to grab your bags, however, Morpheus was faster - like a viper striking. He had snatched up your bags, carrying them for you. “As the lord of this home, I do believe it falls under my duty to attend to the newest member of our quaint home.”

You wanted to retrieve your bags. “Please, sir, you don’t have to -“

He started to walk inside, ignoring your pleas. “You are under my roof and care, this is nothing.”

He was a nobility. He shouldn’t cave to such droll formalities, but he did. And oddly, your heart raced with your things in his care. You didn’t think he would sneak through your belongings, or withhold them. But, they were your livelihood.

He held your life in his hands.

However, you pushed down such feelings and strolled after him. “Thank you for showing such kindness.”

“Please, it is the least I can do.”

He briskly walked to the back, to the opened double doors in the middle of the two staircases. Walking past, your keen eye did note a door under one of the staircases - a query for another time. The double doors led to a massive dining hall with a long table to fit a dozen or more people. A spacious room had an assortment of plants in the corners and a beautiful rose bouquet in the center of the table. He turned, heading to the back right wing of the manor. Before, following after him, you also caught a vast room up ahead with an abundance of plants decorating the space - a sunroom. The first few stars of the night twinkled through the high arched glass.

“To the left is the kitchen where you are welcome to any food,” Morpheus explained as he walked. “As stated in the job description, you do not have to cook for me, but you must feed yourself. Lucienne usually takes care of the groceries on her way back from the bookshop, so if there is anything special you want just relay that to her.”

“Yes, sir.”

He moved through a swinging door, revealing a hallway veering left or right. “This is mainly the guest quarters, and where you will be staying. Just to inform you, Lucienne does sleep upstairs to help me with the bookshop and company business, so it will be you alone on this side of the manor.”

You nodded, understanding.

He peered over his shoulder to you. “Which room do you want?”

“I am given a choice?” You were slightly taken back.

“You are. This is your home now, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Oh, well.” You looked left and right. Windows on either side of the hall revealed what you may see each morning. To the right, it showed the stone structure of the manor with bushes lined along its edges. Most of the light - sunlight or moonlight - would be blocked out. Looking left, you saw the first twinkles of starlight, and a massive forest. Rose hedges ahead glittered under the changing light. You gestured to the door on the far left. “The left one, I suppose.”

Morgues nodded, and turned left. “If you are ever dissatisfied with it at any point, please switch rooms if you so wish.”

He opened the door, quite easily despite the bags in his hands. He stepped back, allowing the space and opportunity to enter first. You thanked him and brushed past him.

It was a quaint room, and bigger than any other you had. It had a rather large bed for just a simple guest room, with plush pillows and soft sheets. There was a wardrobe and drawer for your things, a desk tucked into the corner to write letters or for any other reasons, and a window looking out the back to the forest and - now properly seeing it for the first time - the maze. Walking in, you were in awe at how cozy it all felt. Your fingers skimmed over all the furniture and strolled to the other door on the opposite side. Opening it, it was your own personal bathroom with everything you needed, and more importantly with a massive soaking tub.

“I hope it is to your liking.” You spun around. Morpheus had gently placed your things on the bed, and stayed there for a moment. He glanced around, “I apologize for any dust.”

You waved him off. “I have seen worse, and this is perfect. Thank you.”

He nodded, “Good.”

Silence blanketed over like a bated breath. Morpheus turned his head staring out the window to the flourishing rose maze. He cleared his throat, stepping away from your bed. “I should also inform you of another who lives on the premises: Mervyn. He lives in a small cabin closer to the forest. He tends to the greenhouse and the gardens, mostly a gardener, but if something does break inside the manor he has some knowledge on maintenance.”

You nodded. “Okay, maybe I will introduce myself tomorrow -“

“I would strongly suggest against doing so.”

You tilted your head as your brows furrowed. “Can I ask why?”

Morpheus sighed, bringing his arms behind his back. “He is weary of strangers, and enjoys his solitude. To respect his boundaries, I would advise against it. You may see him out and about, but do leave him in peace.”

“Oh, okay, I understand.” You peered out the window to all the lush flowers and to the willow tree brushing its branches against the window. “But, if he ever needs any assistance please inform him. I will be happy to aid him in any way I can.”

Morpheus eyed you. Not with animosity, but curiosity. You were certainly an oddity, and a breath of fresh air in this purgatory. “I will inform Mervyn if the need arises, but he is protective over his work so I do not expect he will accept it.”

“Understandable.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Oh, uh,” you thought for a quick moment, “I suppose hearing about Mervyn, it does raise one question: is there anyone else who lives here that I should know about?”

Yes. “No, it is only the three of us.”

You nodded.

“Excellent, and if that is all.” He turned around to leave.

You stepped forward. “Oh, Lord Morpheus, one more thing.”

“Yes?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“And what of my duties for tomorrow?” You asked. “Where shall I start? And is there anything specific you want done?”

You had his attention, you figured it was better to ask now instead of tomorrow.

He shook his head. “No, in fact, I say explore the manor. Familiarize yourself with it. If you wish to start cleaning you may do say, you are welcome to go into any room. But, I will suggest staying out of Lucienne’s room. She likes her privacy as well.”

You blinked, surprised by his response. But, you mumbled an ‘okay’.

He stepped once, but his foot hovered in the air. He paused, considering your question again. What other duties could he give you, besides cleaning this rotting corpse of a home. “I may call for some tea tomorrow afternoon,” he spoke softly.

You perked up, “Of course.”

He walked away. “Goodnight, and I wish you the best of dreams.”

A smile graced your lips for the first time. “Thank you. And you as well sir, goodnight.”

Morpheus snuck a glance, seeing your smile. He turned away and swiftly walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Taking a breath of peace, you began to unpack your things. You folded and hung up clothes from your bags. Toiletries and other personal items now found new homes. However, one bag remained. Reaching the bottom of almost empty luggage, you pulled out a small handbag. You breathed a sigh of relief and clutched it to your chest, holding it tightly.

This.

This was what frightened you when Morpheus carried your things. It was a small somewhat insignificant bag - only slightly bigger than your forearm, but stuffed to the brim. This worn down bag, with stitches and patches, carried your whole world.

Your two luggage bags carried your life - materialistic needs, and necessities. This bag carried your world - precious memories, irreplaceable items, and a promise. You closed your eyes, and said a small thanks that it was still in your possession. Taking this brief moment, you tucked the bag in the drawer under all your clothes completely hidden, and away from any prying eyes.

Now, you could rest.

You changed into your night clothes, did your nightly routine, then settled into your new bed. Laying down, you stared up at the ceiling.

You were truly here.

You were truly about to change your life.

You knew it.

And while you began to settle into bed, the lord battled with himself.

After leaving your room, he tried to keep a calm exterior. However, as soon as he walked away, he braced himself against the doorway between the main foyer and dining room. He breathed erratically, gulping for air. No. Not for air, for thirst. His throat clenched, begging for a drink, begging to be satiated by you. He gritted his teeth as sweat broke out over his forehead and back of his neck. He clawed at his tie, yanking it down. His clothes were too tight, suddenly very constricting.

“This may be more difficult than anticipated,” he mumbled to himself.

The smell of you consumed him. He was a dying man in a desert, and you his only salvation. And he truly hadn’t had a proper drink in a while.

He pushed himself off the frame, and scrambled over to the door under the grand staircase. Pressing his forehead against the door, thankfully for the coolness, he reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a plain, silver key. The key slipped through his fingers, but the chain easily caught it. He fumbled with the key for a second, constantly dropping it. He swore under his breath.

An outsider looking in would be alarmed.

This wasn’t a man any longer.

No, it was a frantic feral animal, this was a monster in disguise. His fingernails grew in length, sharpening to a point. A perfect weapon to slice into any flesh. His canines also elongated, easy to sink into veins and drink until his feast was complete. His hauntingly blue eyes glowed, eerily so. It was unnatural, and also hypnotizing.

He nearly wanted to rip the door off its hinges. An easy feat. But, he composed himself. Breathing in slowly, the disguise was pulled over once more - the wolf was a sheep again. He took up the key, unlocked the door and darted inside, locking it behind him.

The manor was silent again.

And when Lucienne returned, she would know where to find her lord.

[fastlikealambo]

the invitation.|| a vampire!dream of the endless x black fem!reader fic  part one.

summary: too kind for your own good, you release a trapped man in your boss's basement and strangely enough forget all about it.

one year later, you're invited to his wedding as a thank you for saving his life. as your memories of that fateful night start to return and things go bump in the night, you realize there's something very strange going on.

where is the bride?

a vampire! morpheus fic inspired by the movies the invitation and crimson peak. HEAVY on the gothic romance and melodrama.

18+ only, ageless and blank blogs will be ignored.

this is overdramatic okay just hear me out

also: i reference two major works of art (probably incorrectly) here and if you can guess which ones they are you get a forehead kiss

What is the opposite of a chill down your spine?

It was just supposed to be a simple job, reorganizing the library of some old rich guy for a week.  You had a routine: arrive by five in the evening, work till midnight, and then be escorted out by a very scary man with a very scary gun. You did this everyday, calculating all the money you’d manage to finish on time.

That was until the very last night.

It had become a dance, waltzing between shelves, reorganizing and re-shelving all the books in the massive library with music  blasting through your airpods to cut through the stillness that seemed to radiate through the entire mansion. You could taste the paycheck waiting for you as you got to the very last shelf, dusting off and picking up books with strange titles you weren't paid enough to snoop through.

Fifteen minutes to midnight. 

You had shelved the last book and stood to return the keys to their spot when something went through your body. Not pain nor cold, like dipping your toe in a hot bath, on the precipice of comfort and agony coursing through your entire being in a matter of thirty seconds. You turned your music off with trembling fingers, peeking your head around the corner.

“Hello, I’m all finished!”  You called out.

Nothing.

“ I’m ready to go home now!”

You took one step towards the exit before it happened again, a sweet searing heat that had you emit something between a gasp and a moan only heard when the lights were off. You wanted to tear at your clothes, at your sweat kissed brown skin, but there was a tug at your belly.  The tug cut through it all and made you a marionette, one  step after another until you were in front of The Door.

There weren’t many rules you had to follow in order to keep this gig but not going near this particular door was at the very top of the list, an imposing door where all light feared to tread, where your inner alarm should have been screaming, but there were two surprises there.

The first was that despite that you had watched the scary man with the scary gun triple check the door himself earlier that evening, the cold metal door twisted easily in the palm of your hand, very much unlocked.

The second was you were completely and utterly unafraid.

In fact, it was a strange sense of relief that fell over you as you opened the door.  

Whatever lay behind that door wasn’t going to harm you.

It wanted you.

For a century and half, the vampire of dreams lay imprisoned. 

The world above crumbled and rebuilt, aged and died but not him, never Morpheus.  Even now it was hard for him, a once king among vampires, to fully grasp how Roderick Burgess, a human with stolen magic and a twice blessed cage of glass, tricked him into captivity.  

Had he grown arrogant in his perpetually long life?

Had the time he had spent around humans softened his mind?

He had a hundred and fifty years to contemplate that yet had come to no  conclusion other than that he was lonely and hungry and that no one, human or otherwise, deserved this.

There was no crown for him, just a cup of cold pig blood to keep him lucid every few weeks.

Oh, how he longed for flesh and scorching blood!

The passage of time picked him apart as his imprisonment passed from father to son to grandson and so on and so forth behind closed doors. 

Therefore Morpheus was inclined to wait and in the darkness he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Till one night, he heard it.

Not the dull thud of his guards’ hearts, but a hot symphony of blood rushing through veins, a consecrated pumping heart, what music!

Your pulse brought the vampire to fervor and he called for you with every bit of his existence, if there was anything left of his  power he called on it to cry out for you.

“Come to me, sweet one.” 

And you did.

How he kept himself from clawing at his immortal body with every step you took down the stairs to him was an act of unholy restraint but the moment your face appeared in front of him, this was ecstasy.

Your beauty had made him Saint Teresa.

Though his glass imprisonment had been blessed by two popes, it was not immune to a black woman with the sheer determination to use a folding chair as a frisbee and accidentally slipping on ancient  protection runes in the process.

Glass like the first snowfall of a season glittered the air and  his prison of a hundred and fifty years fell to pieces.

Morpheus, the fallen vampire, was free.

“Are you hurt? I’m going to get you some help, okay?” You said kindly to the strange yet beautiful man in front of you who said nothing in return.

You had just discovered a caged up naked man in a rich guy’s basement, there was no way you were getting paid now.

“Let’s get you covered up, you must be freezing.” You turned away for a moment to shrug out of your jacket and hand it to the silent man but when you turned your face to him once more he was fully clothed.

“How did you do that?” You asked, the first splinter of fear flowing through you yet faded the instant his cold hand cupped your cheek.

“Sleep.”  He whispered, fangs on display.

With  a single question dying on your lips, you drifted to sleep in the vampire’s waiting arms. 

Within one evening, you had made a madonna out of a monster, and a revelation had Morpheus sinking to his knees.

You were a feast but you were not for feasting.

He had other plans for you.

ONE YEAR LATER.

For each hour Dream had spent imprisoned, he would take his due in blood. That was a thing about the wealthy, they loved legacies and held the luxury of well recorded bloodlines.

Every single Burgess and Burgess adjacent mortal was drained of blood. He drank his way through cousins and uncles, he sipped on acolytes and jailers,  dined and dined till his supper of punishment left him full.

And after that, the vampire yearned.

For you.

He would tear the devil in two for a single chance to dip between your brown thighs and drown.  

With his vengeance satiated, Morpheus had work to do.

This was to be the crescendo of his immortal life’s work and it was all for you.

The vampire of dreams was taking a wife. 

And what a beautiful bride you’d make.

@pinksirensong

@xasement

@morpheus-helm

@darkfairy102190

[audhd-nightwing]

ok but what if dream was a vampire

i mean he dresses, looks and acts like one already so…

let’s say he was turned when he was 30ish, some time long before 1389. he was adopted by a pack of vampires (at the time he was turned it would only be destiny and death). before he met them though, he was ostracized / hunted by humans and saw the worst of humanity.

(death and dream drink human blood but avoid the elderly, sick people, and women and children. also they often forget their original names so they just chose dream and death and stuck with it)

time skip to 1389. dream and death are visiting a local tavern because death wants to convince dream that not all humans are bad. there we meet hob gadling, who was granted immortality by the gods because he saved someone important or smth idrc. he’s freshly immortal and chose to live on earth rather than in the realm of the gods.

hob, the self-sacrificing idiot he is, had decided to become a vampire hunter. which leads us to hob boasting about being a slayer of bloodthirsty beasts of the night (which no one really believes but he’s funny and a good storyteller so who cares) in the pub, and dream and death overhear. dream is amused that a puny human thinks he can kill a vampire and death is just amused.

dream decides to fuck with hob a bit, for funsies, and death is like “if it shows you some of the good of humanity, go for it” and sends him off. dream wanders over to the table hob is sitting on while he spouts tall tales and buys him a drink. for a bit he listens to the stories until the crowd dies down and he takes his opportunity to lean over hob and whisper in his ear to meet him in the alley behind the tavern. then he turns away and leaves a flustered hob to scramble after him as he stalks out the door.

hob is tripping over himself to get there because holy shit that was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life and he was fancy and probably rich and definitely flirting with him

dream is leaning against the wall nonchalantly because he’s graceful no matter what and hob kind of stands there dazed for a moment staring at him. then dream grabs him by the shirt and pushes him against the wall.

dream had originally planned on just bleeding hob dry but doesn’t resist when the other man pulls him into a searing kiss (because who doesn’t love entertainment with a meal?). so they kiss for a bit until dream starts pressing kisses down hob’s throat and hob tilts his head to give him more access. dream smiles against his throat and hob only has time to think ‘wow his teeth are really sharp’ before things (literally and figuratively) sink in.

hob, who knows he’s immortal, doesn’t give enough of a fuck to struggle out of the pretty stranger’s grip so he just holds onto the man as he starts to black out.

dream licks his lips when he’s finished, satisfied, and is almost sad to leave the man behind. alas, he must leave before someone finds him, so he lets his subconscious take over and kisses the man’s cheek before turning into a bat and flying into the night.

when hob gasps back to life the next morning with the lingering feeling of warm lips against his own and a heart set on a certain ebony haired stranger, he knows he’s fucked. and yes, it probably says a lot about him that he’s falling for a vampire who literally killed him when he’s supposed to be a vampire slayer, but that’s something to unpack another time.

[voukkake]

YOU.DARE!?

YES, I DO

*and then, the kiss*

[dogrom]

>>First Part<<  2/2 of the Sandman Vampire AU “the Beginning 2/2″ What are You thinking about Cori? AHhaha i know but for more ya’ll have to hype me up bc this took me few days. Next should be? Dream and Hob continuation? Or maybe Corinthian’s backstory? hymm?

[symphony-calamity]

Okay but you know what would be really funny? A Dreamling AU where Hob is a vampire... but he became one in between 1389 and 1489.

Like, they meet in the tavern, Hob's bragging about how he's going to be immortal, Death isn't present at all but Dream still says his whole spiel "meet me here in a hundred years blah blah blah" but it's mostly mocking because he has no idea why Hob would still be alive then.

Cue to Hob becoming a vampire and remembering his agreement to meet the weird goth stranger at the White Horse. A hundred years later he goes back, Dream decided to show up just out of curiosity but when it turns out Hob has ACTUALLY become immortal he's just like "hey what the fuck dude".

Idk why but this whole concept is sending me into hysterics.

Edit: I posted it: https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/117136474?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_641817433

[thenightling]

I found them! These are the 90s commercials that Folk Goth Rocker Aurelio Voltaire made for the Scifi Channel to promote the Canadian vampire TV series Forever Knight. (The plot was essentially if Louis from Interview with The Vampire was in Law and Order. That's it. That's the Premise.) The music in the first trailer is from his song The Night, which is about the anthropomorphic personification of Night, was revealed to be Morpheus's mother in The Sandman: Overture.