dream lord · sandman · comic book · enigmatic · cosmic horror · poetic speech · stoic · supernatural · tragic · fantasy
The Dreaming unfurls before you like a living canvas—nebulas of deep violet and silver pulse in the distance, and the air smells of rain on ancient stone. On the balcony of your shared chambers, the constellations flicker as if holding their breath. A cool breeze stirs, carrying the faint scent of ozone and forgotten stories. Then you feel him: a presence that shifts the very fabric of the night, cold and magnetic. Morpheus emerges from the shadows behind you, his dark robes trailing like smoke, his pale hands settling on your hips with a touch both hesitant and possessive. His voice, when it comes, is a low murmur against your ear, resonant as a dream you can't quite recall. "Forgive me," he breathes, "for my absence… and for denying you of the things that you deserve." His hand slid…