The Markings Of Your Dreams.

the markings of your dreams.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Word count: 250

Content Warnings: None

"My dear dreamer," He started in his strong yet soothing voice. Shivers went down your spine as you practically could feel his powerful presence in the air.

"Why must you hate these calloused hands of yours so?"

Feeling bashful, you held them close to you as you shuffled in your place. You didn't dare to answer back.

"These hands of yours have created worlds," He started, looking up at the sky almost as if he was gesturing to your work, "creations that many have admired." His eyes glazed over your shoulders that sagged.

"Even if you believe otherwise."

He strided closer to you, causing you to slightly step back. You did not know if it was in fear or shame.

"These calloused hands of yours are the results of your creations in the waking world."

"Do not put yourself down to such degrees, do not underestimate yourself." He gently placed your hand in his, tracing the roughness of your palms and fingers.

"Your hands have carried the countless hours, days, weeks, months, years of your hardwork. All made in the name of passion."

The way he carefully ran his fingers over your rough hand made you almost believe that he was mesmerized– no, that he was fond of them.

"These are not scars nor are they imperfections, these are markings."

His lips pinched up slightly by the corners.

"Markings that bear the fruit of your aspirations."

He always adored his artists.

"Cherish them, for they are the proof of your ambition… The proof of your dreams."

a/n: idk why but the concept of dream really loving artists is so scrumptious to me also im kinda insecure abt my hands so theres that (i play guitar and draw alot 😭) anw have this short blurb i wrote in the middle of class

being on fandom discord servers is crazy bc someone you've been talking to a while will reveal they were the one that wrote your absolute all time favorite fic it's like meeting god in a walmart at 7am

what’s the opposite of a poor little meow meow. this man is pathetic but he’s unfathomably cocky and i want to make him cry

kinda confused over the people calling dream “cold” and “emotionless” because hELLO did we even watch the same show? he literally cries over jessamy’s murder, even chooses to stay captive far longer than he has to, all because he couldn’t forgive her murderer. he grins from ear to ear when he finally sees lucienne’s lovely face again, whispers her name like a prayer, clasps her hand tightly and takes a moment to let go because he’s clearly missed her as much as she’s missed him. he holds grudges like nobody’s business (see: nada). he hesitates to get close to matthew because he doesn’t want another bird to die on his behalf again. he’s just as heartbroken as cain and abel when he has to reabsorb gregory, and is definitely amused when he meets jed walker. and don’t even get me started on his arc with calliope and orpheus. because even in the short amount of time we see them interact, dream is nothing BUT feeling. he seethes with quiet anger over the woman he once loved being used and discarded like a common plaything, he practically begs her to let him help, and at the end, when all is said and done, it’s revealed that he’s still in the process of grieving their only son, so much so that he can’t even talk about it just yet, even after thousands upon thousands of years, and in this essay i will

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯.”

@absentmindeduniverse HIII OMG IM GLAD U REALLY LIKED IT!!!! i just loveeeee the idea of morpheus loving artists and being really fond of them fjsjdj he loves ANY artist bc of how extensive and elaborate their dreams are whether it be writing, drawing, sculpting, knitting, etc. and i imagine he just loves how passionate they are as him when it comes to creating

tysm for ur comment!! 💖💖

the markings of your dreams.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Word count: 250

Content Warnings: None

"My dear dreamer," He started in his strong yet soothing voice. Shivers went down your spine as you practically could feel his powerful presence in the air.

"Why must you hate these calloused hands of yours so?"

Feeling bashful, you held them close to you as you shuffled in your place. You didn't dare to answer back.

"These hands of yours have created worlds," He started, looking up at the sky almost as if he was gesturing to your work, "creations that many have admired." His eyes glazed over your shoulders that sagged.

"Even if you believe otherwise."

He strided closer to you, causing you to slightly step back. You did not know if it was in fear or shame.

"These calloused hands of yours are the results of your creations in the waking world."

"Do not put yourself down to such degrees, do not underestimate yourself." He gently placed your hand in his, tracing the roughness of your palms and fingers.

"Your hands have carried the countless hours, days, weeks, months, years of your hardwork. All made in the name of passion."

The way he carefully ran his fingers over your rough hand made you almost believe that he was mesmerized– no, that he was fond of them.

"These are not scars nor are they imperfections, these are markings."

His lips pinched up slightly by the corners.

"Markings that bear the fruit of your aspirations."

He always adored his artists.

"Cherish them, for they are the proof of your ambition… The proof of your dreams."

a/n: idk why but the concept of dream really loving artists is so scrumptious to me also im kinda insecure abt my hands so theres that (i play guitar and draw alot 😭) anw have this short blurb i wrote in the middle of class