morpheus x reader oneshots & headcanons

being the one who releases morpheus 2

For him, it's been mere hours but for you long years had passed where you had to learn life anew, without the comforts of privilege that your surname once provided you. Ever since Morpheus returned to his domain, his unkempt thoughts would slip away and slither back to the memory of your kind words and gentle eyes. After all, you had no reason to work against your father and set him free. You knew there was a real probability that Morpheus would kill you - a judge, jury and executioner in a world he didn't belong to - and yet you took that chance, believing in his assumed mercy. It was fairly foolish, even you knew that but it was also very human and that was an affliction you couldn't simply reason your way out of. That curious complexity Morpheus wasn't entirely capable of comprehending occupied a portion of his mind while he was busy rebuilding his kingdom.

When his realm was stable enough for the king himself to leave its grounds and venture into the Waking World once more, Morpheus followed your dreams and found himself in a small town by the sea. Looking around in search of your familiar face, he noticed someone sitting at the end of a long pier. They looked ethereal in their loneliness as people walking by the boulevard were either oblivious to their existence or consciously ignored them; the world of humans kept spinning in its usual rhythm and yet there was someone, a hermit by the endless waters, who existed next to it as if they were part of this world but the world wasn't exactly part of them.

Morpheus followed the pier, old and rotting planks creaking underneath his feet. As the sound of cars, people and dogs grew silent with every step he took towards the forgotten individual, it seemed as if he was crossing some invisible threshold between two parallel but not equal worlds. He was entering their seclusion as they once entered his.

You listened to the rhythm of his steps until they abruptly stopped close behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw exactly the same brooding man you helped escape a few years ago. There was something unnerving and yet comforting in the way nothing about him seemed to have changed. In some poetic way, you freed him from your father's malice entire years ago but he left that cold basement no earlier than yesterday.

"You haven't aged a day," you spoke up.

Not a shadow of any emotion passed by his features. "You did."

"Come on, sit." You patted the planks next to you.

"This is not a social call," he warned in a cold tone.

"Maybe not but I sure could use one."

Morpheus did not answer. Reluctantly, he approached the edge of the pier where you sat and only then did he notice a raft of mallards swimming around you. In your hands, you were holding a bag with cracked corn, oats and nuts. With an experienced flick of your wrist, you threw a handful of the mixed dry food to the ducks in the cold water below you. Pushing one another, each of the birds tried to eat as much as they possibly could.

"Where are we?" he asked. It was somewhat surprising to you that he had found you and yet did not know where exactly he did so. Maybe instead of following roads and signs, like people do, the King of Dreams relied upon a sense he was created with but one you could never relate to.

"Southend-on-sea, England. Right outside of London."

"Why here?"

His question had an interesting hidden suggestion that you had willingly chosen this place specifically to meet with him again when in fact you were never sure you would see Morpheus even one more time.

"Shh," you whispered as you raised your finger in a meaningful manner. "Just listen."

Surprisingly enough, Morpheus complied. At the tip of his tongue, he had a reprimand, reminding you that he was in no way your equal and you should never treat him as such but something made him discard that expression of his ego. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled his ears. It was a rhythmic sough, one that brought tranquillity into the hearts of those hearing it despite its loudness. Seagulls were flying over his head, screaming their frustrations and hopes into the aether. With each breath, he smelt salt and algal bloom. In the presence of an otherworldly monarch, Mother Nature remained unmoved in her might, unimpressed with the oniric thaumaturge.