#ruler of the nightmare realm

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 17

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

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Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

breakup closure angst??

reader is a walking ball of angst at this point lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 17: Lost and Found, and Lost Again

“Wha - wait, why?” you scrunch up your face, thoroughly bewildered by his abrupt declaration. What the fuck is his problem?

“Are you questioning my judgement, little dream?” Your Dream Lord takes a threatening step closer to you, intending to cow you into obedience.

But, for what reason? “I have not done anything to warrant this rather harsh decision, my Lord,” you counter, softening your voice to try and pacify his anger, as misplaced as it is. “Besides, you haven’t found any issue with me going back until now.”

At his full height, he stares down at you with cold, hard eyes, and you wonder just how such beauty could contain so much cruelty. You gaze into the galaxies it withholds, but find nothing but a black hole staring back at you. 

“I did,” he responds after a long pause. “I just chose to let you, seeing how sorely you missed it.”

“You have not given me your reason, Lord Morpheus. I think I deserve to know what reason you have to take away my only joy,” you continue to pry, your voice breaking at last along with the tears that now flow freely down your cheeks. 

But he has no sympathy for you - instead, he curls his lips ever-so-slightly in disapproval. “I am quite disappointed you’d consider the dreams to be your only source of happiness, all while our child grows within your womb.”

Amidst your tears, a huff escapes your lips as you bristle at his undertone. He isn’t even born yet, and he’s now being used against you for reasons still unknown to you.

“What exactly are you implying, my Lord?” you ask softly as you take a step away from him.

Not to be undeterred by the tears streaming down your cheeks, he reaches out to you, presumably to touch your face, but you turn away, so with a deflated expression, he purses his lips and withdraws his hands.  “I only mean that your efforts are best concentrated on caring for yourself and our son,” he clarifies.

Mumbling to yourself, you say bitterly, “I’ve been doing that for two months, my Lord, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Enough,” he admonishes with a firm tone. “We will no longer argue about this. You will stay in the palace until our son is born.”

He pins you to your spot with his dark gaze, a look that you know so well: obey or there will be consequences. You wilt inwardly on instinct and say nothing, even though you remain unsatisfied with his cryptic reasoning. He goes on to elaborate further:

“As for my sister, pay her words no mind. Delirium has seen to the downfall of many, and she could lead you to somewhere I cannot protect you.” 

Taking your cheek with his palm, he makes you look into his eyes, ones that seem to scan for any hint of defiance. “I will not allow any harm befall my child and his mother.”

What’s next, locking you up in his room?

Despite your inner protests, you nod meekly. The moment your Lord lets go of you, you give him a wide berth, and he gratefully doesn’t follow, but you could tell how displeased he is with the distance you placed between you both.

With a final glance at your form, he leaves in a swirl of sand. As soon as he vanishes, a sudden bout of nausea hits you, so you scramble to the toilet and empty the entire contents of your stomach. It takes you a while, but you rush to the door of your shared room once it stops only to find it locked from the outside, as you had suspected all along.

***

“M’lady, you’ve really got to eat. You barely touched your soup.”

Morwyn had just entered the Dream King’s quarters, where you had spent almost five days cloistered in. You had neither the energy nor the drive to step out and roam the palace grounds; you didn’t even know if you were allowed to. All you could worry about were your dreamers and the work that you had no choice but to leave behind - if your Lord knew your mind was preoccupied with them, he’d chastise you about caring more about them than your own son, just like he had insinuated.

You’ve been seeing more of him for the past few days, and when you’re both alone together, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, so he’d either cuddle you, with his possessive hands over your belly, or fuck your brains out and leave reluctantly to attend to his duties. It’s a routine you’ve grown to hate because even when he left, you could still feel every part of him on you, as if your unborn son isn’t enough of a reminder of the bed you’re forced to share with him.

And then, there’s what Lady Delirium said just before the Dream Lord barged in.

What had she meant to say when she found something you ‘lost?’ And why had your King taken such offence to it?

“Princess Mera? M’lady?”

Morwyn’s concerned voice thankfully digs you out of a hole you didn’t want to be stuck in, and from looking forlornly out to the view that the balcony offered, you turn to face her.

“Sorry, Morwyn, you were saying?”

Hovering over the table where your now-cold soup lay untouched, she gives you a shy smile and points at it. “Maybe I can get you something else instead? He has to eat too, you know…”

Ah, yes. While you don’t have the appetite to eat, the little one inside you depends on you for everything, and he’ll do so for a while. You wish he’d hurry up though - frankly you could do away with the random bouts of dizziness, bizarre food cravings and annoying backaches.

“Maybe I could get you some chocolate-covered pretzels or cinnamon buns? I remember you liked cinnamon,” Morwyn suggests.

“Nah, I can’t stand cinnamon now, and chocolate tastes metallic to me. Maybe something healthy, like a chicken salad?” you say, hugging a pillow, before adding, “And caramel bars.”

“Not sure the last one’s healthy, but okay, I’ll be back with them!”

Morwyn leaves you half-heartedly wondering where she gets all that energy from as you smile gratefully and lie down on the loveseat. Eventually, she comes back with a tray full of food, so you try to eat as much as your body can hold down. You thank her for the food and for being patient with you before she leaves you alone once more, lying moodily on the couch. Maybe you could drop by the library later and catch up on your dreamers once your back decides to let up.

Any thoughts you have of getting out of the room vanish as soon as the Dream King arrives, transporting himself inside using his sand instead of using his door, as is his usual fashion. You get up to greet him out of habitual politeness, but in doing so, you wince at the dull pain the action causes. 

This doesn’t escape his notice, it seems, for he immediately makes his approach.

“Does your back ache, my dream?” he asks, his eyes laden with concern.

You could only nod, intending to trudge slowly to the bed and bury yourself in pillows and blankets, but he has other ideas. Gently, he carries you instead and lays you down on the sheets.

“Lie on your stomach, my little dream,” comes his soft command, and you do, having a vague idea of what he’s up to. True enough, he gets on the bed as well, mounting your hips, and, brushing your hair aside, he untangles the ribbons of your dress to reveal your back. With expert hands, he starts kneading the tense muscles on your shoulders, and you groan out of relief as his thumbs put pressure on the knotted muscles on your shoulder blades.

How many beings in the universe could say they had been given a back rub by the King of Dreams himself, you wonder, sighing as his hands slowly work their way down your spine to your lower back. You could feel the heat emanating from his body as he moves closer, and his breath fans the back of your neck before softly caressing your skin with his lips and giving you goosebumps in the process. He applies pressure on the muscles on your waist before halting his movements altogether. Feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off your back, you sigh once more, wanting nothing but to drift off to deep sleep.

“Thank you, Lord Morpheus,” you murmur.

You inhale sharply as his hand hikes your dress up and dips between your thighs, massaging your inner folds. Making a tiny noise of complaint, you squirm underneath him as he rubs against your clit and makes you wet, not feeling up to having your back blown right after he’d massaged it so tenderly.

He must’ve felt you tense up again, for he whispers against your back, “Sshh, my dream, relax, I will make you feel better.”

In a split second, your dress disappears, and your underwear soon follows. His tongue laps up the exposed skin on your back, his teeth grazing and nipping, while his hands part your lower cheeks. In one swift motion, he lodges his rock-hard cock inside your core, and you whimper at its suddenness, while he groans in pure bliss from above you. He settles for a languid pace as pulls out and pushes his entire length back in as if careful not to strain you further. His lips pull away, having done their job marking your back with welts, and you feel him prop himself up at an angle that keeps rubbing over your sweet spot and at the same time avoids putting pressure on your lower back muscles. You grip the pillow tight as you bite back your whimpers, but when he resumes rubbing the muscles on your waist and your spine, you start moaning with abandon and let your body relax completely in his grip, giving in to the pleasure he provides. He builds up the pressure unhurriedly inside your core while the pads of his palm knead your back muscles carefully, so when the pressure finally bursts, you lay there, limply, as he continues pumping into you, drawing your climax out in that sensual, controlled pace of his choosing. His pace only falters and quickens slightly when he comes close; he takes you with him as he climaxes and sends his hot seed coursing through your core and coating your inner walls, some of it leaking out when he pulls out of you.

Your Dream Lord lies beside you, already clothed, as you catch your breath, with him kindly making your dress reappear, its ribbons already laced behind your back. He dons a soft expression as he stares wordlessly at your face, caressing your cheek lazily with a finger. You couldn’t move an inch, not after being drained of energy like the only way he does. After a few moments, he leans down to kiss you, tracing the outline of your lips with his tongue and demanding entrance, while his hand not-so-subtly traces your arched back all the way to your ass -

“Hey boss! Your majesty, I - Ack!”

Matthew comes darting into the chamber from the balcony and in what must’ve been a romantic scene in his eyes, with you draped on the Dream King’s bed and him hovering over you, kissing you with a softness only you get to see. Your Lord reluctantly pulls away, and you pull the blankets over you in haste and embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable situation - and by no less than his raven!

“Matthew,” you hear him address his minder. “Is something the matter?”

“So very sorry to uh, interrupt you and the princess and all, but there’s this huge, huge, crazy bird running amok right now, in the forest and it’s breathing fire!” comes his frantic reply, ruffling his feathers in agitation. “Apparently, that giant bird can breathe water too, it’s just flooded the entire town square! I didn’t know who else to get, sir.”

Curiously peeking from underneath the blankets, you see Matthew perched on the back of the loveseat while your Lord puts on his cloak.

“Hi there, princess!” Matthew greets you with a winged salute. “Sorry to ruin the moment, but this bird -”

“It’s not just a bird, Matthew, it’s called an Anzû, judging by your description. You were right to call my attention.” the Dream Lord corrects him before making his way to you, planting a quick kiss on your crown. “I shall see to it, my dream.”

Nodding at him, you ask, “Can I be at the library, Lord Morpheus?”

“Of course,” he responds with a light caress of his fingers on your cheek. “I will come to fetch you after the Anzû is dealt with.”

“Uh, guys, I know you can’t keep your hands off each other, but, whatever-it’s-called, it’s destroying the village, you know, ve-eeery urgent?”

The Dream Lord just raises a mildly amused eyebrow at the raven’s reaction, and questions him, “Where is it at the moment?”

“Last I checked, sir, it’s just started setting the forest on fire, in the trees near the House of Mystery and the House of Secrets.”

“Let us meet there, then,” the King says simply, the sand from his leather pouch engulfing his cloaked form before disappearing entirely.

Matthew, flapping his wings, sighs and mutters to himself, “He could’ve just brought me along with his sand, but no-oo…”

With a farewell to you, he flies off the balcony to follow his boss.

But you aren’t left alone for long. Just as Matthew has left the chambers, one of the double doors cracks open, revealing Morwyn, looking around the room cautiously before beckoning someone you couldn’t see inside. To your surprise, a young woman with colourful hair peeks from the opening, before pushing them wider with a loud ‘weeee!’, and you jump out of bed instantly just in time for her to give you a hug that leaves you momentarily breathless.

“It worked! I distracted him!” Lady Delirium squeals in delight when she releases you. “ I think he’ll be away for quite a long time, but not that long, a long time is about a hundred years, or more. We have to hurry, though, that thingy I did on the Anzû might not last that long.”

“Lady Del,” you greet her before curiously asking, “Wait, you set the Anzû loose? What for?”

“So we could go find what you’ve lost,” she just says cryptically, as she drags you to the door.

Going along with her, you tell her, “Lady Del, I’m not allowed in the dreams anymore.”

“I know!” she replies with excitement. “That’s what the distraction is for.”

Morwyn chimes in, keeping up with your pace, “I can hold down the fort, m’lady, I can tell the Dream Lord you went out for a walk just in case he comes back early. Take care!”

“Thank you, Morwyn!” you shout after her as she pulls back and waves after you, and, still holding on to Lady Del’s hand, you let her take you to a detour leading to the sea of dreams, where you waste no time diving in, clueless as to where she’ll bring you. As the waters take you where you ought to be, your hand inadvertently lets go of Lady Del’s due to its force, and you land, alone, on a patch of dying grass.

“Fancy seeing you here, princess.”

You raise your eyebrow at the Corinthian who’s grinning ear to ear as you straighten your dress. Your eyes sweep the territory you landed on for any sign of the Endless that brought you here, but you find her nowhere.

You seem to have landed on a garden, or at least, what was once a garden. The plants look like they have not seen a drop of water in weeks and have been left to wilt away and dry up. But as you survey the dream you landed on, you couldn’t shake off the peculiar feeling that the place is familiar.

“This garden used to be so lively,” you find yourself saying.

Too familiar.

“Oh, you think?” your friend just snorts.

You look behind him, where a modern-brutalist building stands. It’s a house, you conclude, and it seems to be beckoning you inside, so you brush past your friend, caught in a trance you couldn’t break away from, intending to enter the abode.

“I don’t think you want to go inside, princess.”

You let the Corinthian’s warning go unheeded. Pushing the doors open, you cross the foyer and reach what looks like a previously well-maintained living room now lying in total ruins: upturned, upholstered couches with their leather peeling off all over, a glass coffee table, smashed, its glass shards scattered all over the threadbare carpet, science magazines, ripped from the spine, the crumpled pages littering the sorry scene.

A few feet from the living room is a doorway which leads to the kitchen, where you could hear scuffling. How you know it’s where the kitchen is, you have no idea, but you walk to it anyway, and why is your heart beating so fast? Why would you dread anything from this dilapidated excuse for a house?

“That’s not a good idea, princess. Back away, when you still can.”

But, the Corinthian’s voice comes out as muffled - all you could hear is rhythmic gasping and soft moaning, and like a moth to a flame, to walk to the sound, completely entranced, blood pounding in your ears.

You barely make it through the doorway when you see a tall fellow plastered to the wall, his hair too grey for his age, his eyes closed and mouth wide open and moaning in pleasure, and a woman - a nightmare, disguised as a woman - on his knees, sucking him off, both of them oblivious to your presence. Frozen to your spot, you stand transfixed at the sight, not taking your eyes off the male and feeling your heart being squeezed tight.

“So I guess you’ve met Sumnio.”

Again, your friend’s voice is ignored, and you clutch your heart, gasping for air and collapsing against his chest. Strong arms anchor yours to keep you steady, but, already feeling light-headed, you cling to his shirt with trembling hands and, leaning onto him, you scream.

It’s visceral, painful, echoing in the dream-space, and your friend drags you away from the scene and back to the garden, where he cradles you awkwardly, both of you kneeling on the drying blades of grass, and you remember everything: every memory of that man’s face, grinning coyly, smiling warmly, his soft, forest green eyes blazing with so much passion you had helped inspire…

And they hurt. Every stolen moment with him, the longing stares, and the chaste kisses - just remembering them is agony, and you cry out against your friend’s chest, mourning for what fate had so cruelly stolen from you.

“I know him,” your say amidst your sobbing, and you feel the Corinthian’s hand patting you softly on the head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” comes his simple reply.

Oliver Chapman.

You start hiccuping, and your poor nightmare friend lets you go so he could hand you a glass of water he materialises. You accept it and drink from it, but you continue bawling as you set the glass down, water spilling all over the grass and your dress, the gravity of his presence in the dream hitting you just as hard as the memories did.

They’re here to torment him. Your poor Ollie.

Gulping for air, you let out, “Y-you’re h-hurting him! H-he’s hurting my O-ollie…”

Cursing under his breath, the Corinthian grabs your shoulder and shakes you violently.

“Pull yourself together, princess, there’s no use crying over this shit,” he chides through his gritted teeth. He lets out an agitated sigh, but he releases you. He takes out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and hands it over, and with a shaking hand you take it, your fist balling into it as you stare at a patch of grass, trying to breathe evenly and choking back your tears.

“There’s no easy way to say this, princess, but your boyfriend sentenced your ex to a lifetime of misery,” he divulges, sitting cross-legged on the grass facing you. “When he lost his memories of you, he tried to fill in that little hole you left in his heart or whatever, but Sumnio was sent here by Dream to make him doubt every single one of his lovers. He’s never going to settle at this rate.”

In an attempt to soothe the excruciating pain in your heart, your palm rubs against your chest, trying to breathe through your mouth as fresh, silent tears cascade down your cheeks, staining your dress further. He lets you process his words in silence.

“I’m going to fix this,” you declare all of a sudden, surprising even yourself.

“How, exactly?” your friend asks as he absentmindedly picks on the brittle blades of grass.

“I don’t know, I don’t fucking know,” you whisper, sniffling and wiping away the tears using the crumpled hanky he gave you. “But I can’t let him live like this, Cori. He’s not a threat anymore, so why make him suffer?”

Clicking his tongue, he mutters, “You know he doesn’t see it that way, princess.” He gets on his feet with a grunt and offers you a hand, which you gratefully accept. “You better clean that up, he’s gonna find out.”

“You're not going to tell him, are you?”

“I’d rather stay out of it, thank you very much.”

You offer him a wet, grateful smile, mouthing ‘thank you,’ and his only response is a shake of his head in exasperation.

“I can distract him for a day, at most,” he adds, tilting his head in the house’s direction.

Ah, yes. Sumnio. What a shame you had to meet him that way, if only in passing.

“I can shut him up, too,” he continues, smirking playfully. “He’s gonna moan a little, but I can do the job.”

You couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that escapes you. “Thanks for the mental image,” you remark dryly. “I have to go back. Whatever Lady Del did to distract him may have already passed.”

“I told you she’s trouble. Anyway, let me know when. You owe me big time.”

Rolling your eyes a little, with a small smile still on your face, you jest, “Yes, how can I ever repay you?”

But you flash him a look, letting him know you actually mean it. Your friend, as is his usual, just gives you a mock salute as you exit the dream, indicating that perhaps, he understood what you had meant to say.

***

“M’lady, I’ve got the key,” Morwyn says in a hushed tone as she sets down your bowl of cornflakes. Discreetly, she places the key in question, and you mutter your ‘thanks’ to her, before nothing short of inhaling your cereal. Your Dream Lord had just left for his duties, so time is of the essence. Cori’s right: grieving over Ollie isn’t going to help.

If you want to put him right that badly, you need to do your research.

You were reluctant at first in enlisting Morwyn for help, but she has proven to be loyal to you so far, so you decide to place your trust in her and ask her to obtain the key to the Dream Lord’s office from an unsuspecting Merv. It had to be you who’ll get the books though, refusing to put her in more trouble than she already is.

Sneaking into the library past Lucienne was easy, seeing as she’s swamped with records that need filing from yesterday’s Anzû’s attack (thank goodness for Lady Del). You get Ollie’s book in less than three minutes, and while you had nowhere to hide the bulky tome, you decide to worry about that bit later, and, after you give the key back to your co-conspirator, you barricade yourself in your old room and begin with studying how bad the damage was, and how much effort it’ll take to undo all of it.

***

Clinging to the toilet for dear life, you heave the last bits of soggy cornflakes out from your gut. This time, it isn’t just brought about by the sickness of being slightly heavy with child.

It was out of pure repulsion at what you had just finished reading from Ollie’s books. It was nothing short of abominable on his part, being forced to endure five horrendous breakups with women that seemed to genuinely like him, and then making him relapse on sleeping pills for something he could no longer remember - all for your Dream Lord’s depraved entertainment.

And the worst part is that it was partly your fault.

But you had to quash that guilt within you at the moment, seeing as it wouldn’t help with your cause. You had a faint idea what to do with Ollie’s dreams, and no clue whether it was going to last, but you had to try, at least.

Having hidden the book in one of the toilet cupboards in your room, you proceed to your shared bedroom with your King and pretend as if you had not just found out about one of the dirty little secrets he’s been keeping from you. It takes you all of your willpower not to be sick out of disgust after he fucks on his bed for hours on end, and as you both finish, you had only one thing in mind:

That you’ll get Ollie’s life back for him and perhaps say one, final, proper goodbye.

***

Your little panic attack at Ollie’s kitchen doorway was bad, but being confronted with happy memories you had spent in Ollie’s dreams in this modern-brutalist study is so much worse, you discover.

Here you are, hunched over on the carpet you remember almost ruining with your own blood, except it this time, it wasn’t a puncture wound that’s making you double over in pain - it’s that dull, stabbing ache in your heart at having to recall all those moments with him again and again, moments he can’t even recall, and as they come running through your head, so do the tears.

Maybe if you had been unmade instead, you wouldn’t have had to suffer with this as much.

The study you had spent countless hours working in had been trashed - a mirror of Ollie’s deteriorating mental state. It’s worse than the living room downstairs: his bookshelves, one you remember fondly with the books arranged oddly by colour, upturned, its contents reduced to nothing but ripped, empty pages; his computer screen cracked beyond repair; the L-shaped sofas with ripped covers and exposed foam - everything you loved about the place, including its owner, falling apart, and you’re the only chance he has.

But then, you hear footsteps approaching, so you quickly wipe your tears away with your palm and finally face the dreamer you’ve come to help.

Ollie, with his greying hair and green eyes, his soiled pyjamas and his unshaven beard. He seems to be having such a rough time, it hurt you to see him like this.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he notes with narrowed, suspicious eyes, just like the first time you met.

You flash him a wan smile. “No, I’m not.”

“Huh.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, as is his habit whenever he gets nervous. “Are you, by any chance, someone I slept with within these past months?”

“No,” you reply before letting out a dry chuckle. “But you came very close.”

“A damn shame I didn’t then,” he quips lightly and grins suggestively. “You don’t look so bad.”

Says the man with unwashed hair and soiled pyjamas. “Glad to hear your sense of humour’s still intact. How’s MiraSleep doing?”

“Not bad, too. I’m set for life because of it.”

But the emptiness in his voice does not escape you.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, if that’s the case?” you tilt your head and ask.

“Wouldn’t that be the dream?” he says under his breath.

Eager to press him for details, you continue, “Why? What’s going on?”

He shakes his head as he paces at the study. “Nothing much, except I just ruined what could’ve been something great. Especially the last one. I fucked it up. For someone with all this money, you’d think I’d have it all figured out.”

Peering curiously into his eyes, you inquire, “Is it Charmaine?”

“How’d you know?” he asks with a puzzled look.

“I’m a dream. It’s my job.”

With a heavy sigh, he nods in resignation. “Charmaine. I liked her, too. I liked her a lot.”

With a shrug, you advise him, “Then tell her. Say ‘sorry, I fucked up. I love you.’ Can’t be that hard, can it?”

Ollie just snorts in response. “Think it’s that easy?”

“You’d be surprised how much stuff you’d let slide because you love them.”

“You think she loves me?”

“I think,” you say, taking a few strides closer to him, “That’s up for you to find out.”

Clasping your hands together, you stare into his eyes, concentrating all your dreaming-abilities, all the hurt, the longing, everything you had, into your palm. For a few moments, you close your eyes, letting the entire dream-space absorb you, and when you open them, a dreamcatcher, not unlike the one your Dream Lord destroyed, appears in your palm, pristine, almost glowing with all the power you had endowed it.

“Holy shit,” Ollie curses under his breath in awe, looking around in his study: you had restored it, and everything else in his dream-space, and it took everything in you. Trying not to wobble on your feet, you grab his hands and place the dreamcatcher in his grasp.

“You know, it’s funny, I had one just like this before. I probably lost it - are you okay? You look pale,” he observes, worry etched all over his face.

Brushing it aside, you gesture at the dreamcatcher. “Look at that. Keep that safe. Every time you find yourself doubting Charmaine’s, or anyone else’s love, just take a look at that dreamcatcher, and it’ll wash away all that doubt in your heart,” you explain, your voice breaking a little at all the emotion you’re trying to contain. 

“What if it comes back?” he asks, toying with the dreamcatcher’s strings.

“Frankly, the nightmare working on your dreams needs to up his game. It’ll work.”

This earns you a befuddled look from him, but you just wave it away.

“That dreamcatcher will remind you to always choose happiness. Be happy, Ollie. That’s all I ever wanted, really.”

And then you see it: that warm smile he’s always had for you, his forest green eyes lighting up exactly the way you remember.

“Are you sure we’ve never met before?”

“Quite.”

“Will I see you again?”

You smile sadly and simply shake your head. Unable to hold your tears back any longer, you turn away from him so he doesn’t see them. You had not realised just how much you have to hold back; how much you wanted to hold him and kiss him and how much you wished it was his child you carried instead.

But, it isn’t fated. Not in this lifetime. Maybe not even in the next. So instead, you settle with:

“Goodbye, Ollie.”

You couldn’t stay there anymore. Without looking back, you will yourself back into the sea of dreams, vaguely tasting the salt both from your tears and the waters.

***

Significantly weakened from repairing Ollie’s dream-space and conjuring that protective charm for him, you trudge dejectedly from the shores to your old room in the palace, making a beeline to the cupboard where you had hidden his book of dreams.

You trace the cover ever-so-gently with your fingers, afraid to lose the only thing you have left of him.

You had not allowed yourself to grieve your loss because you had a job to do. But, now that you’ve completed the quest, you hug the book, and mourn.

You had not expected to still love him after all that happened, and yet, you pushed him to take a lover so he could finally be happy.

You did a good thing, you keep repeating in your head over and over. But how could such a good thing hurt so fucking much?

Crawling to your old bed, you curl up in a ball, still holding Ollie’s book of dreams close to your heart. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally, and it doesn’t take much sobbing into the pillow before sweet unconsciousness embraces you to its comforting bosom, making you forget the pain if only for a few hours.

***

A little later, elsewhere in the castle, a frantic Endless is close to tearing down the palace walls in search of you: his precious little dream, his only lover and the mother of his unborn child, is missing, and he’s looked everywhere for you, causing quite a stir among the staff. They’re careful, as always, to avoid his wrathful stare, especially when it comes to matters concerning you. They’re secretly grateful when your attendant arrives to break the tension, and the news, that you’re in your old chamber, fast asleep, perhaps exhausted, Morwyn adds. He wastes no time transporting himself to the chambers he crafted especially for you, and as soon as his silver, galaxy-laden eyes land on your curled-up form, his visage visibly softens. He is careful not to wake you as he approaches to tenderly caress your cheeks, and, hovering over you, he places a gentle kiss on your hair, taking notice of the book you’re cradling in your arms.

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Aghhhkk will he see the book?!!

Now, about that back rub...

We have about three or four chapters remaining, folks!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 2/12/23

Edit date: 2/12/23

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

[sweetiguessso]

You heathens aren't listening to the Truth or being genuine so you're going to be punished now.

[proneterror204]

Fear vs Family Reunions

Wonder Woman: This is nice! Its not very often i get to connect with this side of my family.

Fright Knight: Indeed. It is rare to have such civil conversation with my family, free of any drama.

Wonder Woman: Fear? You don't often get with the family?

Fright Knight: No. War is never good for children. Even its own children are not spared. Mother Love would have been better off with the Forge. He treated my brother and i more kindly than War ever did.

Wonder Woman: I'm so sorry to hear that. I hear you are sworn to a new king? Is this one better than Pariah or do i need to overthrow a tyrant?

Fright Knight: HA! No no no. This king is much more peaceful. Where Pariah was fire, Phantom is ice. He is more than happy to let the Realms govern itself rather than conquer it for himself. Though he does stress himself with keeping the balance between our worlds. War would have been a easier tool for it.

Wonder Woman: You speak against your Father but encourage his craft?

Fright Knight: I do not acknowledge him as my father or support his craft. I merely acknowledge as a tool to use. I mean the threat of a war to scare others into peace not the actual use of it. My liege would never threaten anyone with something he did not intend to use anyway, so there will be no threat.

Wonder Woman: Your king is perhaps wiser than you in matters of ruling.

Fright Knight: Indeed. I am a warrior, not a ruler or politician. I lead armies, not rule kingdoms. But speaking of war. Where did you put my.... male progenitor?

Wonder Woman: Ares- sorry, War is a god. We couldn't arrest him, so we handed him to a government organization that deals with the supernatural. I believe its called the GIW.

Fright Knight: .....

Wonder Woman: What? Is something wrong?

Fright Knight: I fear you have made a catastrophic- no a apocalyptic mistake. I must return to my king immediately. *Fright Knight summons and mount his nightmare steed* I suggest you take a Batman size look at the GIW and realize your mistake.

[deadsetobsessions]

Summonings

Ever since Danny Phantom became the Ghost King, he’s had to deal with an endless amount of crap. An eternity of it, actually, and it was constantly causing him unending amount of existential crises and stress.

First, there was the paperwork. Pariah Dark, the incompetent asshole, had left him decades worth of bureaucracy to painfully sift through. He ended up hiring some ghosts with paperwork obsessions to sort some of that out. Who knew ruling the infinite realms would require this much paperwork? He’s lucky each section of the underworld had their own systems to report to their own rulers who, in turn, report to him.

Secondly, there were the Observers. And other ghosts, like his own rogues, but they were the main issues. Eyeball menaces. They protested his appointment, something he actually agreed with. Putting a fifteen year old on the throne is rarely a smart decision. But the Infinite Realm values strength, the only type of currency that matters in the land of the gods and the dead. Danny? Phantom? He’s got strength in spades. With only a few months of being a ghost, Danny had managed to defeat Pariah Dark, who had cowered gods and struck fear into the hearts of ghost heroes.

But Danny hasn’t quite realized the significance of that yet, too focused on the realization that he was about to be in charge of the infinite realms. The Observants, since his reluctant and extremely limited coronation, has been up his ass about doing things the “proper way.”

Danny’s main problem lies with the ridiculous amount of paperwork though. It’s fine. Tedious. But fine.

But if he gets one more fifteen page essay style complaint form about some guy named Constantine, Danny might seriously reconsider donning Dan’s ruthlessness and offing the guy himself. Perhaps grab the man by his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll and ask who the fuck told him it was a good idea to sell his soul out like that? Danny eventually just sent out Skulker to hunt down the contracts and trade minor services for them. He owns most of the soul now, and perhaps he’ll hunt this guy down and force him to do paperwork.

Regardless, paperwork was just often tedious. He’s worked out a system for himself. The halfa, true to his teenage form, had better things to be doing. His homework, for one. Hanging out with his friends and logging in hours for Doomed 2 would be another. But no, he’s here, twirling a pen as he glared down at a stack of forms for a zone expansion. What the fuck does Zeus want to expand his zone for? The current share space of the sky domain is literally a perfect balance with respect towards the other gods. For the love of- Danny slams down a red ‘REJECTED’ stamp on top of the stack. His hair flickers wildly in annoyance, the iced over Crown floating above his head emitting concerning levels of frost. To anyone else but himself, of course.

He then feels a soft tug on his core.

Right. The third most annoying thing about becoming King: the fucking summoning. Danny taps his pen against his lips, clicking it against his fangs, as he considers the summoning circle that calls him. Huh. Desperation. Mildly bloody. Fear. Resignation- ah, fuck it, it’s not like he’s too enthusiastic about staying to do work with the Observers poking around. He takes the summoning, allowing his regalia to overtake his normal hazmat-clad form, and approves the summoning.

Oh hey, Danny thinks he recognizes that ugly ass trenchcoat.

—-

John Constantine has had more than enough practice summoning things that would give people nightmares. But there are things he normally refuses to touch, refuses to even entertain the idea of trying. As usual, desperation made John its bitch and the Justice League’s battered and bruised faces tugged on his shriveled heart.

He’s going to summon something from the Infinite Realms. Oh, but he wasn’t just summoning any old ghost. No, he thought, I’m just going to summon the one being that’s guaranteed to be able to crush our universe without breaking a sweat. Bollocks.

“Is it ready?”

“Untwist your pants, spooky,” John snaps, wishing he had a crate of whiskey he could down. “We’re trying to summon the Ghost King, not your average demon.”

“What do we know about him?” Batman’s gravelly voice demanded.

“Powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. Defeated the bloody tyrant who ruled over the Realms last I heard.”

“That’s it?”

“You could ask Deadman, but I heard he’s on the outs with the Infinite Realms on the fact that he’s made of pure magic, not ectoplasm.”

“There’s no guarantee the king will work with us.” Zatanna says, pressing her fingertips together tiredly. She had been at the forefront of the battle and had paid the price for it. “But he’s supposedly more benevolent than his predecessor… and we’re out of options.”

“Hm.”

“Just make sure to shut up and let me do the talking.”

“Hn.”

John rolls his eyes and takes a fortifying breath, something that does not go unnoticed by the League. They all tense up, preparing themselves for a battle. Another one, seeing as they all got their ass kicked by a ghost only ten hours ago. The League is spread thin, running interference to distract the ghost in question and evacuating civilians.

John Constantine started chanting, the glow of his magic lighting up the circle as he spills his blood into the circle.

He waits, heart in his throat, for the summoning to work.

“Is it supposed to take-” Red Robin asks, only to cut himself off as the circle flares once more. Power pulsates outwards from the circle. Frost crackles on the frost resistant floors, spreading outwards as a green portal rips open the fabric of time and space. Long, spindly imitations of a hand grabs the edges of space and pulls, heaving the rest of his celestial body out of the tear in reality. John does not look away. He can not look away, not from the eerie green pallor of the King, not from his torrential white wisps of hair, not from the black-hole like material of his outfit, not from the nebulas and beginnings and endings tailored onto the King’s cape. John could not look away from the ice crown that floated like a bastion of power above the king’s head.

His mouth is dry. What price will he have to pay to save the world? What price will this being demand of him, of the Justice League, to save the world?

John desperately needs that drink.

—-

Oh! He’s in his home dimension! His core purrs at coming home, at the close proximity to his first haunt.

He was expecting cultists, or even the Winchesters again, but this is nice.

The Justice League- summoning him. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they hear about this.

They’ve been staring at him in silence for a bit now. It was getting awkward.

“Why have you summoned me?” He asks, softening his tone. By their winces, he didn’t get it as well as he thought. Danny grimaces. At the first sign of discomfort though, the man in the trenchcoat- is that fucking Constantine?!- launches into a nerve filled tirade.

“Your, uh, Majesty.” He starts. “One of… One of your subjects is wreaking havoc on the world. We would be extremely grateful if… if you could reign him in?”

Danny’s face sours, only to quickly clear his expression as he realized how much even a small hint of displeasure causes the jumpiness in Constantine and the others.

“To do that, I will have to make a contract with you, seeing as you’ve summoned me.” Danny drawls, letting his overly long digits wave at the summoning circle in question. He could break it, of course, but Danny’s bored and trying to draw this out. He’s not saying he’d take a batch of cookies as payment but that’s exactly what he’s saying.

“The price… you could always have my soul?”

Danny pauses. “Your… soul?”

Oh, he did not say what he just said.

“Yes. My soul.”

Oh, he did.

Fuck it. Danny’s flashbacks of suffering through the reports pushes green into his irises and urgency to his action.

He breaks out of the circle, hands lunging and gripping Constantine’s jaw tightly. Danny ignores the shouts of alarm as he allows the thrown weapons to pass through him.

John Constantine is panicking now, struggling in the air as Danny lifts him an inch off the floor in agitation.

Good.

“Your soul, little wizard? The one you’ve split eight ways till the thirtieth of February? The one that caused,” he tightens his grip, no doubt bruising the man. “An insane amount of paperwork that I’ve had to suffer through. Your soul, John Constantine?”

Danny hisses his name. The man makes a warbling noise that Danny takes as acknowledgement. Danny bats away the weak spell Zatanna sends at him with a hand.

“You’ll find that I am in the possession of most of your soul contracts. To simply put,” he grins, teeth made of dying stars on display. “I own your soul. My soul, now.”

He drops the wizard who collapses onto his knees to stare up at him in horror, eyes flicking between the circle that was meant to contain him and Danny, who is very much not contained. He crouches down- something necessary but disjointed as he’s not used to this taller form- and speaks to Constantine in a slow, dead serious, drawl.

“If you ever sell your soul again, you and I are going to have issues. Is that clear, John Constantine?”

“Uh- yeah, yes, yes, your majesty.”

Patting his cheek condescendingly, Danny gets up and sighs, stress relieved. He’s starting to feel bad, though, so he allows his form to ripple back to his normal teenage Phantom self.

“Well, it’s not like anyone will buy it, since they know they’ll have to go against me.” He chirps, flipping 180 from his terror inducing eldritch voice. “So, what’ll you pay me to get rid of whatever ghost you’ve got?”

“…. Nothing?”

Red Robin holds out a bag, eyebags betraying his exhaustion. “I’ve got fifty dollars and a bag of cookies.”

Phantom beams at him. “Throw in a couple of autographs and you’ve got a deal.”

“That’s- yeah, okay.” Red Robin says, inching forward cautiously to hand him the bag.

“Great. I’ll be back for them later. You can call me Phantom. ‘Your Majesty’ gets annoying after a while.”

“Thank- thank you for your mercy, Your- Phantom.” Wonder Woman says.

“Sure. Make sure this idiot doesn’t make any more deals with demons while I’m out, yeah?”

With that, Danny Phantom grabs the bag of cookies and fifty dollars and flies through the wall to do his job.

John slams his head onto the space station floor.

“Fuck.”

—-

Danny: lol I’ll do it for the shits and giggles

Constantine and the League: he’s terrifying, a bastion of pure power and authority

Red Robin, Young “we commit war crimes bc it gets shit done” Justice leader and fellow gremlin: he’d probably do it for cookies. I would.

[bluegekk0]

AU references for NKG and The Radiance! They both got new looks which I'm really happy with

Some lore below the cut, as usual

Grimm, once known as The Nightmare, was one of the two children of The Dream Lord, born soon before their father perished in a fight against The Shade Lord. As his final wish, they both inherited an equal chunk of his realm and were meant to rule it together. Grimm's sister, The Radiance was tasked with watching over the mortals’ dreams and be their guiding light in hopeless situations. The Nightmare’s role was to guard the mortals’ nightmares and help them overcome their fears.

Grimm was always the more rebellious of the two siblings. He would frequently pull pranks on his sister, and it was clear that he wasn't as interested in the godly matters as she was. But more than anything, he was naive. As he grew up, he believed he could leave Godhome to mingle with the mortals with no consequences, and he ignored the growing tension between him and The Radiance. As time went on, the two siblings grew more and more distant. The Radiance was dedicated to fulfilling her father’s wishes and preserving his legacy, while The Nightmare spent most of his time away from Godhome. While he did his duties and watched over their nightmares, he held no attachment to his father’s legacy, which infuriated The Radiance. She saw him as unworthy of the power given to them, and he responded to it with annoyance. He would continue with his mortal plane activities, seeing it as his playground.

The Radiance, on the other hand, was obsessed with living up to her father's legacy. She saw the old ways of the gods as the correct one, and thus she never created a physical form for herself. Her obsession eventually turned into paranoia, and she saw every disagreement with her brother as a sign that he may be conspiring against her.

Their disagreement culminated after The Radiance created the Moth Tribe - a tribe of bugs who would serve as her main way of reaching the mortals, capable of entering the Dream Realm with the use of a dream nail. To get back at his sister, Grimm decided to disturb the tribe, often interrupting their rituals and even inciting them to rebel against her and her stuck up ways. In his eyes, this was nothing more than a mere prank, he could not care less whether they would remain loyal to her. Unfortunately, as a result, some of them started doubting their creator, which infuriated The Radiance. She found out about her brother's scheming, and after he returned to Godhome, she attacked him without giving him a chance to explain himself, seeing his actions as a direct threat to her authority, and even as an attempt at obtaining complete power over their realm. Ultimately, Grimm lost the battle, caught off-guard by her sudden aggression, and was subsequently banished from Godhome and trapped him in his Nightmare Realm, now separated from Godhome.

Years passed, and The Radiance's influence over the mortals of Hallownest weakened. As it turned out, they were more drawn to beings they could actually see and touch, and by the time she realized her mistake, they all turned from her in favor of the two new rulers of Hallownest, The Pale King and The White Lady. Blinded by her rage and the fear of being forgotten, she retaliated with the terrible infection: a deadly mutation of the dream essence, which took over the minds of those affected and made them susceptible to her voice. Her rampage was temporarily halted by The Pale King, whose Pure Vessel absorbed the infection. Unfortunately, this solution did not last, and she eventually broke down the vessel to the point where they could not contain the infection anymore. Years later, she was defeated by another of Vyrm's offsprings, Ghost of Hallownest, who united the void to form The Shade Lord, ascended Godhome and overpowered her, ending the infection for good.

While Grimm eventually found a way to walk the mortal world with a physical body, his godly form remains in the Nightmare Tealm. The Radiance's eventual death squandered his only chance at reversing the seal which keeps him trapped, though with his new life in the mortal world, he does not care for it. His sister, meanwhile, will be remembered as a ruthless, self-absorbed god who met her end at the hands of the same being that once destroyed her father.

[frozenrogue89]

I Don't Want to be Great, I Wanna be Me.

So we all know the classic ‘JL meets Phantom through summoning’ prompt, and we usually get Danny “High King, Savior of Worlds, Eldritch, Cryptid, Ancient, No Shits Given, Chaos Gremlin” Fenton making an appearance, cool and confident, running circles around the JL. But what if, this High King they summoned, just… wasn’t.

The Justice League was prepared for anything, with the latest BBG threatening the world they had to take drastic measures. The JL Dark managed to scrounge up the summoning spell they… “liberated” from a cult group a couple months back. At first the JL was against the thought of summoning another highly powerful unknown, but with extensive research, Constantine and various others vouching for this so-called “King Phantom'' , and no option left, well, their hands were tied. Said to be the vanquisher of the previous Tyrant of the throne, Savior of the Infinite Realms, thousands of years old, infinitely powerful, infinitely old, and some smaller rumors claimed, infinitely kind. Phantom is said to be extremely protective of humans (something they were banking on),  loyal to its subjects, and said to rarely get angry (yeah right). A terrifying creature, tall and confident in its destructive power.

So yes, the League was prepared. They gathered as many members as they could spare for this meeting, everyone ready for a fight, but praying for none. The Big Three stepped forward while the rest hung back. Constantine and the Dark members start chanting, beginning the ritual.

The chanting ends. The silence hangs. Bodies still. 

Then, a flash from the hieroglyphs on the ground and an explosion of wind with no origin, a blinding light originating from the summoning circle grows in strength, letting out a vibrating hum that causes Superman to cover his ears and wince. The hum starts shaking the ground and the light condenses into itself, revealing the silhouette of an object. 

The wind stops. The light is gone, the vibration a memory. Everything is as it is before, with one exception.

Wonder Woman, wasting no time, straightens, “High King Phantom, Ruler of the infinite Realms, We are the Justice league, We ask your help in vanquishing The BBG, it threatens the lives of all those who live…” Her eyes widened as what stood before her.

This… this didn’t look like a High King, Vanquisher of Pariah Dark. This little thing did not give any indication of confidence, power, or age… it looked… young. The only thing terrifying about this creature is the size of bags under his eyes. Drowning in soft clothes, hunched over, looking utterly defeated, Nothing like they expected. Diana would almost mistake it if for a human child if not for the glowing eyes, fangs, and slight aura it gave off. But this, this was no King… Is- are those tears in its eyes?!

____________

Danny has not been having a good day. Or week. Or month, or- anything really. It seems like dying was only the beginning of his problems. No, scratch that, this all started with his parents’ damn obsession with ghosts. Danny swore they were part ghost too with their utter infatuation with all things Ecto. If only they hadn’t tried to access the ghost zone, if only Vlad hadn’t been involved to become Danny’s biggest nightmare, if only his parents gave up their research once they had kids, if only he didn’t walk in that stupid portal to impress his friends. 

If only he had stayed dead.

If only he didn’t gain powers, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess. 

Danny scowled to himself and let himself flop onto his bed. He’s been spending the last couple weeks cycling through this whole rogue gallery, TWICE! Plus fighting a handful of random ghosts who thought they could take on the ‘Ghost King’ (Pariah’s evil reign and thousand year slumber didn’t help either with all the paperwork that’s left for Danny.) Running from the GIW, his parents, and Val as usual, (Ghost Scum, 

Dealing with ‘Mayor’ Vlad’s Evil Plan of the Week -Danny’s powers were still on the fritz after that encounter, painful, was a word for it- Not to mention school, between Dash being Dash, forgetting his science homework, missing a test because of Skulker, Lancer and his threats of, “Black Beauty Fenton! If your grades keep dropping you’ll spend the rest of the year in detention! With ME!” and now his teachers (and Jazz) are talking to him about college? He’s still a sophomore, give him a break! It isn’t Danny’s fault the whole universe is apparently out to get him.

The real cherry on top of this whole thing was the recent ‘summonings’. No thanks to the Fruit Loop and his meddling, with Jack Fenton unknowingly helping him, again. A nice little instruction booklet called, “How to Summon the Ghost King, Made Easy!” got out onto the internet and the world, free for any psycho to speed dial Danny away from his life. At various points in the last month Danny has been forcibly -and if he was honest, painfully- ripped from anything he’s been doing and dumped smack dab into the center of various cults’ plans, usually they wanted power, money, or world domination. His saving grace was the process of summoning forced him to transform or no identity reveals, thank The Ancients. 

Sam and Tucker have been a godsend in getting the Booklet wiped from the internet, Danny would be lost without them. He would’ve fallen apart the first week into his powers if not for them. Who knew watching your friend half dying created lasting relationships? They really kept him going and he trusts them with his life, really he does.

But Danny would never tell them about some of the things he’s seen getting summoned, he couldn’t do that to them. The various groups of psychos seemed to think Danny was more likely to listen to them if they offered sacrifices.. human sacrifices. Some nights he couldn’t stop smelling blood and incense, couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He hated himself for keeping track, and hated himself for not wanting to. 15. 15 people, so far just because some handful of lunatics wanted some money or something equally stupid like that. Danny was 15, that’s one whole human being, for every year he was alive, one of them was even younger th- she was just- Danny couldn’t- she was- so small…

Pulling his blankets over his head, Danny took measured breaths against the tightness in his throat. It’s Not fair. It’s not. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be King of the undead, he’s just a kid himself isn’t he? It was just an accident turning on the portal. He didn’t mean to. Why is he stuck fixing everything? Can't he just be a normal kid? Go to school, get good grades, become an astronaut? He’s so completely out of his depth, who is he kidding, it’s just a matter of time before he screws up again and someone gets hurt, or worse. He's trying, though, he is. He tries so hard to be good, to do good. To not turn into Dan.

‘Stop it, Danny. Now’s not the time for bad thoughts.’ This is the first time Danny’s had a chance to sleep in two days, his parents are out and left the home defenses are down, Jazz is studying at the library, Sam and Tucker are playing Doom while keeping an eye on ecto readings around town. He has maybe 4 blissful hours to spend in dream land. He sighed and sunk into his pillow trying to blank out his thoughts before he could spiral again.

A tightening in the chest, and eyes snap open, ‘NO! NO! Please not now!’ is all Danny manages to think before the unfortunately familiar sensation of space displacement takes hold. His transformation is forced on him as he feels himself fall apart and get put back together simultaneously.

‘Just a couple hours rest, is tHAT SO MUCH TO ASK!!??’ The anger leaves before it can fully form due to the pure exhaustion that washed over his ectofied bones and straight to his core. It feels strained, like glass under pressure, not knowing if the slightest change will shatter him. He slowly gets his bearings and- oh, this almost seems worse than a regular cult summoning. At least there’s not a dead body. 

It’s the Justice League, and Wonder Woman is talking to him. And Danny, Danny can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know if they want to trap him, kill him, experiment… if the GIW got their claws into the JL… Danny can’t anymore, He can practically feel his core splintering into jagged gut- wrecking pieces. He just wants to rest, to feel safe, for just a little while. Why can’t he?

Throat burning and eyes watering, Danny realizes he can do something, just one thing. It’s the only thing left that he can do. Something he hasn’t done for a long time, ever since dying.

Danny starts crying.

[harmoonix]

🍂𝓝𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓭🍂

🍁 (Astrology Observations) ❄️

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲

°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°🍁°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°

🍂 Capricorn Placements (Sun/Moon/Rising/Venus/Mercury) can indicate ageless beauty, your beauty comes with the time and patience

🍂 Sun in the 10th house natives can put their main focus in careers/job/future and sometimes they can forget about their family/friends/relatives, need a balance here

🍂 Scorpio Women are very different from Scorpio Men, like people tend to put them in the same box thinking they're both the same because they share the same sun sign

🍂 I don't know why some astrologers don't like cusps (they have beef with the birth chart I guess) if you have a Placidus chart rather a whole sign chart, cusps are important for Placidus

🍂 Moon in the 1st house/Moon aspecting the ascendant makes the native very soft/kind and generous, they have gorgeous eyes too

°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°🍁°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°

°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°🍁°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°

🍂 Mercury in Fire/Air Signs may like loud music, something like R&B or Rap/Trap, club music

🍂 On the other side Mercury in Earth/Water may like soft music especially if there are romantic songs, for example Love you like a love song is such a Pisces Mercury song

────────────────────────────────

🍁In her waters, deep and true

Lie the answers and a path for you❄️

────────────────────────────────

🍂 Sagittarius Mercury or Mercury in the 9th house may like to listen to songs in other/foreign languages from other cultures/ethnicities. They may like traditional songs aswell

🍂 Mercury aspecting Venus/Moon can have a very comforting voice, very soft and sometimes they can be shy in their voice

🍂 Mercury in Scorpio/Scorpio in the 3rd house/Mercury aspecting Pluto > You can feel free to talk everything with them, literally they will jump from every topic to another topic

°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°🍁°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°

°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°🍁°❄️°•°❄️°•°❄️°•°

🍂 Pluto in the 9th house can make the native to have a philosophical opinion about their own religion/belief system

🍂 Jupiter Retrogade can indicate not acknowledging your own luck/benefits/opportunities, is like you are blinded from them

🍂 Sun aspecting Juno [3] they will shine in every relationship they are in. They may also show a big support in their partners

🍂 Groom(5129) /Briede(10929) in the 4th house can sometimes indicate marrying someone from your childhood (maybe a friend/maybe someone you didn't expect to marry from your Childhood)

🍂 Pluto or Saturn in the 4th house can indicate an continuously changing home mood/behavior, and sometimes tensionate moments too

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🍂 11th house ruler in the 5th house can indicate romance between friends, and is not always you who is in romance but you can have friends who can get in a relationship after some time

🍂 4th house ruler in the 8th house can have ancestors who may practiced occult/magic/tarot maybe? there is a big interest for the taboo things here from your family

────────────────────────────────

Every inch of me is trembling🍁

🍁But not from the cold

Something is familiar❄️

❄️Like a dream I can reach but not quite hold

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🍂 6th house ruler in the 12th house can have a pretty chaotic sleep schedule/may sleep a lot or may sleep less at points, they're with one eye in the spirit realm and with one eye in the human world

🍂 I cannot imagine Libra/Taurus/Pisces and Leo Moons getting in relationships with non romantic people, babes please...romance is everything for you...don't settle for less

🍂 Mars in Pisces/Mars in the 12th house can experience weird dreams or nightmares, sometimes they can have vivid dreams

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🍂 Neptune in the 3rd house natives are very intelligent/spiritual/clever, they're very kind at first glance and always ready to discover new things

🍂 Uranus chart ruler can bring you unexpected desires in life, like you never know what's coming next with Uranus, a desire or a wish

────────────────────────────────

I have always been a fortress🍁

🍁Cold secrets deep inside

You have❄️ secrets, too

But you don't have❄️to hide

────────────────────────────────

🍂 Aries/Aquarius/Scorpio Risings can really show on their faces when they don't like someone, and is not about being rude is that they have a prominent facial figure to express that

🍂 Moon in the 11th house/Moon in Aquarius "Friends stick together" the are this vibe 100%, I love how friendly they are and their attachment to their friends

🍂 Having a Virgo Moon/Moon in the 6th house is also an indicator having a very nurturing/healing/purifying energy around you like a shield

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🍂 Girls if you wanna do synastry chart with your crushes and you don't know their birth time, is enough to know their birth date because it shows the placements of the planets at least, so if you have Virgo in the 8th house and your crush is a Virgo Sun/Moon... love - hate war

🍂 Moon - Sun aspects have a great analytical mind, maybe it is from their ambient style of analyzing and feeling the same things at once

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🍂 North Node opposite the Moon, it indicates that you have emotional patterns from a past life that don't serve you. And that you can fall into moods/moments that are difficult to get out from

🍂 Also if you have North Node opposite the Moon your mother in this life was also a mother figure in your past life (shock 😲). It says that it can be damaging in one or both lifetimes (idk if I should cry or not)

🍂 If you have Saturn square north node in your chart you can often have the feeling of taking the responsibility/accountability for other people, in a way you live for others but not for yourself

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🍁🍂❄️ I hope you all have a great great greattttt day full of blessings !!❄️🍁🍂

Have a blessed day to all of you who read my notes, Harmmonix ♥️🍁

Off topic but I have to admit Frozen 2 was one of Disney's biggest masterpiece, the native language, the songs, the storyline, the goosebumps everything is on point. There are rumors of Frozen 3 coming in 2025 and so my eyes are ready to cry again at this masterpiece (The Nordic culture 😍)

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[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

could u maybe make a murder time trio(separate if possible) with a goth reader? if not that’s ok:)

Traveler I don't know who you are but I was thinking about writing some skelies with goth reader for some good time now, so thank you for this request 🙏🏼🙏🏼 Also, I added out Nightmare because I can <3

Featuring: Dust, Killer, Nightmare and Ted.

Masterlist

Killer

He finds your style... Interesting to say the least, in his words "It makes you look like the baddest bitch on the multiverse"

Definitely brags about it to the others "Ha! I have a groth partner and you don't!" "You mean goth?" "That's what I said idiot"

Finds Cyber goth and Punk goth the coolest styles, but let's say the truth, it doesn't really matter what substyle you wear, your clothes are all over the floor in the night anyways.

He can and will make flirts involving your dark aesthetic, especially if you're vampire goth.

"Hey sweetheart are you a bat? Because you can come bite my body any time~" "Killer we're in the middle of hiding a body what the fuck"

Ted

Your style helps him remember you, it's so different, so distinct from the norm that it makes his mind recognize you from maybe miles away.

Ted finds some of the songs pretty relaxing, it's one of the rare types of music that doesn't hurt his "brain".

People are scared when you both go anywhere.

Though he kinda likes it, no one can bother you when they think you're a freak.

Loves seeing you get ready, especially if you're traditional goth, he could stare forever, seeing you carefully putting eyeshadow on makes him feel so calm.. it makes his day 10 times better for no reason.

He'd make cookies of you, for no apparent reason, and then give them to you.

Dust

He fucking adores you.

Whatever you say he does, no questions, he just does.

Let him do your makeup. Pretty please?

Loves every goth substyle, but steampunk and vampire goth hold a special place on his soul.

Dust actually really loves fashion, and yes he will choose clothes for you when you don't know what to wear, and trust me, you end up looking fabulous.

Wastes all his money on you, skirts, boots, pants, anything you like he buys you, even if he had been in debt once for buying too much.

Nightmare

Oh my, he's actually head over heels.

This hoe's rich alright? It does not matter how expensive the prices may add up, it does not matter how many clothes you want, he's buying it, it's not like he'd run out of money anyway.

He likes the music, it's one of his favorite types actually - but he still prefers his classic music, "no offense darling.. classic is just better."

And if you're traditional/romantic/Victorian goth?? Lie down on the bed because he can't control himself anymore sweetheart - and he's making sure you aren't walking for some good time.

You're married to him, so you're now also ruler of his kingdom, and your style fits perfectly with the gloomy vibe of his realm.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6: A Mother’s Love

Gotham still remembers when she was just a young Neverborn. When her bay was first discovered and settlements were newly established. Her consciousness like the budding town was growing slowly but surely. By the 1800s she was almost fully grown and by the 1900s she knew her name. She knew who she was.

She was Lady Gotham: Queen of the City of Corruption, Mistress of the Den of Madness, Ruler of No Man's Land, Mother of Poor Souls.

She was a Neverborn Spirit of the Infinite Realms who was well acquainted with disaster and misery. She was the sovereign of her own haunt and territory, and vassal under the king. (A king to whom she swore no loyalty)

She knew her flaws and she knew the flaws of those who were Hers but she loved them nonetheless. When she was still young she spent her energy trying to nourish her people, unfortunately, she was but a reflection of her mortal haunt. There was little she could do aside from slightly bending the rules to exert control over the physical aspects of her haunt or to extend her power to those who would need it most. As she grew older she also had to divide her care among the ghosts in her spectral haunt, for they were Hers too, now within her grasp.

She remembers when the Clown first arrived. He was horrible, an outsider, an interloper, and a scourge to her haunt. He was not Hers and she refused to claim him despite his fancy to call himself the Clown Prince of Gotham. No, he was more a Fool than anything else. She made it known within the realms to all those living in her spectral haunt that should the Fool ever make it to the realms than his fate would be up to her (Perhaps her former paramour would grant her a boon and keep him trapped in an eternal nightmare).

She remembers when her Dark Knight first arrived in her defense. She was struck to see him, for he had been one of Hers. He had been gone for many years but returned to her and he wished to help her, to protect her. She accepted him as her Knight, extending her power on occasion to cloak him in shadows and fear. Though she cherished her Knight she wished he was capable of more. (She wished he would cross lines she could not, but she knew he wouldn't because he could not either).

She remembers the first little Squire her Knight took in. He was not of her but she would claim him as Hers too. He was eager to help her and those who were Hers. He was the first bit of Wonder she and Hers had had in a long time. He cared for her too but eventually, he would grow to be more than a Squire and would leave her too. Though he was gone, he still had a place in the city as one of her Knights.

She remembers the second little Squire. Her very own homegrown Hope. Sure he was a bit more rough and decisive but he cared. He was so deeply and truly Hers. He grew up in her streets and he understood her and Hers better than any of her knights so far. He was young, full of life and a desire to help, and he believed he could be magic. She was devastated when he left, lured away by the promise of a mother, then tricked and fallen into the hands of the Fool. She was devastated when he returned to her broken and mangled.

In her distress she remembered that the Tyrant had been overthrown recently. There was a new king, one who had not even reached his majority yet. The Boy King, The Benevolent King, The Protector, The Peace Maker, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance.

He had not yet risen to full power but he had united the Counsel of Ancients. She could appeal to them and to him. She could swear her loyalty in exchange for borrowed power. Even if he refused, it would not stop her. His help would prevent her from growing too weak but his refusal would mean nothing to her.

True to his title, the Benevolent King granted her a boon, her loyalty and support for a temporary amplification of her own power and permission to cross over. She thanked the Boy King for his Kindness and fled back to her haunt, ready to manifest onto the mortal plane for the first time in centuries.

When she found him she was overwhelmed with grief. Her voice echoed like sirens in the wind. Her fingernails elongated as she reached out. Her appearance grew more haggard as spectral winds swirled around her. She cried black tears over his grave summoning her power to channel his soul.

If the boy wanted to help he could help those in her spectral haunt.

If the boy wanted to make a difference, he could help her exert her power over her mortal haunt.

If the boy wanted a family, then she would be his Mother.

If the boy wanted to live, he could live in the Realms with Her.

Her form flickered vanishing from the mortal plane. Back in her spectral haunt, she held a young figure in her arms. She overflowed with gratefulness promising herself she would introduce the young boy to the King when she got the chance. He deserved to see how much he'd done for her. She gathered up her presence and made a declaration to the realm:

Here was the heir to her power

Here was the being that was most truly Hers

Here was the true Son

Her very own Little Prince of Gotham.

~~~

Okay a couple of things:

Did I imply the Joker is not a Gotham Native? Yes, I did. I also implied that if he ever became a ghost it would be on sight for him by Lady Gotham.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham has two haunts? Yes, I did. She has actual Gotham and then the ghost version in the Infinite Realms where a lot of the ghosts of people who died in Gotham live.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham and Fright Knight were romantically involved at one point? Yes, I did.

The goal of this was to literally make Jason the "Son of Gotham", a term I've seen thrown around before. I feel like Lady Gotham would love to be a mom and finally give Jason a decent parent, albeit one that treads the line between creepy and Eldritch Horror.

I included Danny as the new Ghost King even though he's not technically ruling yet. He has the Council of Ancients running things and he has a regent but idk who yet. He's still involved in the decision-making process bc a.) He's super powerful, b.) he's still technically ruler, and c.) it's a good way for him to learn about ruling which he will have to do eventually.

Yes, it is my intention to have Jason and Danny meet in the Ghost Zone later. Give some good bonding and friendship (eventually crushes on each other).

I have a couple ideas for things that may happen in this au but if anyone gets their own ideas or wants to write this then feel free to share or ask about it.

[books-not-people]

AU where when Danny first got in the portal for the picture jazz being the protective older sister she is and knowing her parents "lab safety" she goes in with Danny and when he trips her immediate thought was to save him from falling in the danger trap she considered the portal and they both become halfas que the canon ghost shenanigans but add protect younger siblings obsessed jazz being a absolute nightmare standing behind Danny the hole time just daring someone to go after team phantom and any time they do they immediately regret as they have angered the older sibling and mercy is not an option.

When pariah dark happens they team up to own him no suit required and jazz and Danny become sibling rulers of the realms.

Somehow their parents find out and go mad scientist on them jazz is 18 in this so says fuck you takes Danny and as the nature secretly petty as shit just calls CPS and takes Danny and sues her parents for child support.

They + Sam & Tucker (because they can convince Tucker's parents it will be good for his future tech career and Sam just tells her parents she's going to stay with her dads side of the family(the drakes)) go to Gotham because no GIW unlike Amity and is ecto rich I also imagine that both are on their way to becoming Ancients of space (Danny) and as odd as it seems older siblings(jazz) they are confused at first until it's explained that the belief of the love and protections that older siblings are some of the most protective and also mischievous towards their younger siblings has built up to for an ancient and jazz just happened to become that ancient.

Que jazz helping college students in the Gotham U library study when they miss their older siblings help like when they where growing up and just being a protection spirit but to siblings in particular. This becomes super annoying when the bats and the birds start setting off her instincts after joker escapes and she can only relax after beating the shit out of him with the anti-creep stick in front of red hood who promptly falls in love with her much to the annoyance of Danny who was already secretly dating tim and meeting at the local coffee shop and ordering their coffee

Feel free to add your own ideas and if anyone writes it please send me a link or title I would love to support your story💖

[jaxon-exe]

Just saw this point vv

That has Danny being Gotham and it has given me ideas!!

So after becoming the ghost king Danny gets a haunt. Now the thing about haunts (for this au) is that they r a reflection of its ruler. It’s basically their inter being made into a physical place.

Well that comes with a unique situation with Danny as he’s half alive. So bc of that half of his haunt is also alive (ie in the living world)

And bc time is more of a suggestion in the infinite realms, the living half of Danny’s haunt is and always has been Gotham.

This is also y Gotham is cursed. At first it was just Fenton luck but over the years power hunger ghost have cursed Danny and in turn his haunt.

Now with the background out of the way here we go

So one day it’s notice that Gotham is a bit more crazy than normal. Not only has crime and rouge activities randomly spiked but the weather is also going nuts. With random storms popping out of nowhere and even a blizzard in mid spring.

Deciding better save than sorry Batman calls in some JLD members to see if it’s magic related and it is. The JLD always knew Gotham was cursed but they can now feel a new and more powerful curse has been placed on the city. So they set about trying to get rid of it and they can’t

At this point is when they decide to pull John out of bed and get him to help to and after a bit of poking around he comes to the conclusion that the curse is anchored to something and so sets about summoning the anchor.

Yeah… non of them were expecting the king of the dead to be the anchor.

What’s worse is that Danny pops up in his spooky eldritch form and they quickly cancel the spell bc NOPE!!

So they naturally come to the conclusion that the king was the one to curse Gotham and he anchored the curse to himself so it couldn’t be easily lifted.

Meanwhile with Danny.

He’s having a rough go at it. This curse is pretty foul and he’s been stuck in his ‘spooky form’ bc his more approachable forms can’t handle it. Now Danny has been trying to get rid of all the curses on him for awhile but it was never top priority, u know with being king and all. Now tho it definitely is. However he’s in a bit of a bind bc ghost cant really remove curses and he doesn’t have the knowledge of how to do it while alive.

But those guys that summoned him definitely do and might be his best shot.

Basically from here it’s the Batfam plus JLD trying to figure out how to brake the curse on Gotham while also being jump scared by the king of the death popping out of nowhere only to be beating off with a broom back to the afterlife. Meanwhile Danny over here is just trying to figure out how to get their help even tho he looks like a nightmare personified and sounds like the screams of the damned 



[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 15

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

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Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

no spoilers, so just read at your own risk lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 15: Your King's Wish

"His name is Sumnio."

The Corinthian drains his cup and sets it back down. "He's a shapeshifter, just like you were, but he's brutal. Almost makes my time worthwhile," he muses quite gleefully.

You listen intently to what he has to say, seeing as it has been a long time since you've been in the sea of dreams yourself, and you miss it more than anything. Absent-mindedly, you pick up a sweet from the table and take a large bite, only to gag on it and spit it out.

"Ugh, cinnamon. Awful stuff. Continue, sorry," you mumble, placing the sweet back on your platter. "'Doubt', huh? What kind of doubt does he, uh, inspire?"

"All of it," he says, maintaining the same look of maniacal cheer. "But what I've seen…well, let's just say, his work has devastating effects. I know you'd appreciate good work when you see one. And boy, the damage he does is almost irreparable."

So it seems like he is having fun with the new Nightmare, he just doesn't want to admit it. Raising your eyebrows at the conclusion you've formed, you remark, "Glad to hear you still enjoy watching others suffer. So what is it about his work that gives you such a hard-on?"

"Well, he's been causing a ruckus lately. Nasty breakups," he says with a wide grin, slouching against his chair and lighting a cigarette. "So far, he's down to four, and with the same person, too."

"What the fuck?"

"Oh, it was a sight to behold," the Corinthian seems to recall fondly with a laugh.

Narrowing your arms, at him, you tease, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancied the nightmare, my dear old Nightmare, and friend."

He just shakes his head with a chuckle, wagging his finger at you and saying, "Now, don't go giving me any ideas." Straightening his glasses, he says, "And don't think you're out of the woods, either. So answer me this: how come you're still with that royal prick with a royal stick up his ass? What happened to your little fling?"

"What fling?" you ask offhandedly, turning your head to your left as you make out fast-approaching footsteps on the gravel.

"What the fu - you mean you don't -"

"M'lady, m'lady!"

The Corinthian is suddenly interrupted by Morwyn's frantic call. You see her sprint towards you, coming to an abrupt stop before you and the table and bowing before stating her piece.

"M'lady," she starts breathlessly, clutching her sides. "Your Majesty, the King of Dreams, requests your presence."

You and your nightmare friend share a look of understanding, before he cocks his head ever so slightly, urging you to give a response.

"Morwyn, I appreciate your effort," you finally respond to your attendant. "But, please tell my King that I must respectfully and politely decline."

Flashing Morwyn a wan smile, you quietly offer her a brownie from the feast on the table, which she shyly accepts with a tiny 'thank you.'

"But, m'lady, he'll be angry at me," she mutters before taking a tentative bite out of the brownie, adding, "He hasn't really been in a good mood lately."

The Corinthian gives you a gloating grin as he takes a drag out of his cigarette. It's a quiet challenge, and one you're not about to back down from.

"That is my doing, I'm afraid. And if he throws a fit, Morwyn, tell him he can come seek me, himself. I'll tell him the same, exact words, too."

But she doesn't make a move and stays standing there awkwardly, shuffling her feet in seeming nervousness.

"You'll be fine, Morwyn, you've done nothing wrong. Look, if it helps, you can say you tried to persuade me to come with you," you say in an assuring manner.

Nodding quietly, she whispers to herself, "Okay, I can do this, I can do this." She turns to you and excuses herself before running back to the palace to give the word to your master, who you imagine won't be too happy you turned him down.

Then again, he was never the type to take any kind of rejection lightly.

The Corinthian takes one final drag out of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it with his oxfords.

"Well, I better get going," he sighs as he gets on his feet. "Thanks for the coffee and the…fine spread you got there," he gestures to the half-finished sweets on the table.

"Where're you going?" you ask him with a pout as you lean on the table with one arm.

"I'm going back to work," he says with a cheeky grin as he straightens his coat. "And I wouldn't want to be caught in the eventual crossfire."

"Fine, go see that lovely little nightmare of yours," you say with just as much sass, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows in the process.

Turning his back, the Corinthian gives you the finger from behind him as he struts out of your sight.

Above you, the skies turn an ominous grey, signaling that Morywn has delivered your message with great success.

***

Dream was beside himself with anger when Morwyn came to him to tell of your rejection, and his foul mood had promptly manifested through a darkening of the skies in his realm, which later turned into a downpour.

He had given you what in his opinion was ample time for yourself and had even chosen to keep his distance, just so you could contemplate the gravity of your last exchange and come to terms with his decision. Obstinately, he stands by his word: he can never reinstate your dreaming abilities until he can fully trust you, which he knows could take time - at least until he's confident that the Chapman has been dealt with thoroughly.

He had been watching you through the eyes of Matthew share stories over coffee for the past few days. Based on the conversations he had overheard, you seemed to have developed some kind of bond with him, and within his heart, he felt jealousy start to slowly creep in; with his nightmare, you were chatty, you were laughing, and, dare he say, you were comfortable with him acting like yourself - something he selfishly wished he could have only to himself. Had he not given you enough reason to be more open around him that you had to always be hungry for the company of someone other than himself?

So, for days on end, he attempted to call upon you, sending your attendant to fetch you for himself, and he finds himself scorned each time, much to his chagrin.

He misses you. Sorely, terribly. He misses having to greet the Dreaming sunrise with your naked form in his arms; he misses kissing your lips and marking your skin; he misses the way you look at him with so much innocence in the presence of others, and how that look would transform to much more heated gazes in the privacy of his chambers; he misses the music you both make as you made love to each other into the wee hours of the night, and the gentle words you share as you bask in the afterglow. Even more so, he misses your wit and your fire, and even in those increasingly rare moments he sees your eyes light up in courage when you stand up to him. He misses you so much that his heart had started to wither away without so much as your presence; he had admittedly been quicker to anger at his subjects with each passing day without you, and now, as he sits on his throne, sulking, he hears once again of your refusal from a terrified Morwyn, whom he's slightly tempted to banish to the darkness just so he could get your attention. Instead, he sends her away without so much as a dark look - he knows it would displease you should you find out he had unmade your faithful attendant despite her innocence.

Once he's certain the throne room is empty save for himself, Dream of the Endless groans audibly in abject frustration. Through the eyes of his raven, he looks on at the scene in one of the palace rooms: his perfect nightmare, getting to his feet to return to his duties, and his perfect dream, you, waving a casual goodbye at your friend, huffing to yourself and donning on a morose expression at the loss of a conversation partner. This bubbling jealousy combined with his growing longing for you isn't doing him, his subjects, and his kingdom any favours. Huffing as you did, he severs his connection with Matthew and withdraws into himself further in deep thought.

You're bored, and he knows it; if you weren't in the library reading whatever books you could get your hands on or in the company of his nightmare, you were in your room by yourself, brooding. As much as he hates to admit it, he hadn't seen you in high spirits in a long time, and he is aware that the only way he could bring you back to your usual self is the one thing he has avoided giving you. One that you had pleaded with him for countless times and that he adamantly refused. Should he relent this time, how could he ensure you don't go seeking that mortal once your abilities are back at full strength? How could he orchestrate this in such a way that you'd be happy with your role and with him that you'd never have to chase your happiness from anyone else save from him?

His kingdom shakes ever-so-slightly at the resounding clap of thunder as Morpheus rubs his forehead in agitation. In need of a distraction, he steps away from his throne and descends the winding staircase, his thoughts drifting to that last time you had tried with your very best to entertain a dreamer who had wandered off that old castle. That child had somehow managed to single-handedly lift your mood when he could not so much as coax even the ghost of a smile from your lips then. Even before he witnessed the way you interacted with the child guests who found their way to your coronation party, he confirmed what he had always known: that you love children, and you have a way with them, just like a mother would.

Without meaning to, flashes of memories he had long since buried invade his thoughts, gnawing away at his cold exterior: that of joyous, ringing laughter echoing the halls of his palace; of a voice singing so wondrously to the tune of strings lovingly plucked from a harp; and of a face that so painfully reminded him of his.

Orpheus.

The mention alone of his son, now reduced to a mere talking head all because he, his own father, had denied him help when he had so desperately called to him, often pushed him into a sullen mood, but oddly enough, it doesn't have as much bite this time around. His imagination goes further, this time painting a picture of a child, a spitting image of him, down to the tufts of hair growing out of his tiny head, except his eyes, which light up the way yours do as his tiny fingers tug your hair with just as much stubbornness as his mother possesses; and you, a vision unlike anything he has ever seen, cuddling the child close to your heart as you lull him to sleep with a lullaby only you could sing.

Imaginary as the scene might be, he tucks it away in his heart and lets it warm him, and his realm, going along with him, rejoices in the first rays of sunlight it has seen in several days.

He had failed as a father once, and this time, redemption seems to call upon him, and with it, the hope of finally giving you the happiness and contentment you need to stay by his side for all time. With a child on the way, there would be no more doubt in your heart about where you truly belong. All you may need is persuasion.

***

With your nightmare friend, you find routine in the following days, chatting about all sorts of dreams and nightmares over coffee or tea, and sweets. Through the Corinthian, you lived your dream of one day being able to visit the sea of dreams again and form inspiration for the dreamers and be you, just as your creator had once intended.

He, too, had become part of this drill of yours. Your Lord, rudely enough in the middle of your conversation with your friend, would send your attendant to fetch you at his behest, and it had been part of your day to refuse the request with the most saccharin of tones. True, you and your company had to move from the gardens to one of the many parlours in the palace when it started raining; it had been a light shower at first, but the rain became heavier as your refusal to see him went on. It was clear he had wanted to give you the space you had needed for so long, but time apart from you seemed to sour his mood.

Not that you cared - as far as you were concerned, his royal moodiness could go fuck himself.

You let out a heavy sigh as you put down the book you've been reading. You've been at it since this late afternoon, having been refused flatly by Lucienne to help sort the new books. The colourful library windows then filtered the light of the setting sun, which somehow chose to appear just as you were beginning to read. Something had brightened your Lord's mood then, and whatever it was didn't seem to bode well for you.

The sun has now fully set, revealing the Dreaming skies' collection of glowing constellations. From your favourite couch, you get up, intent on going back to your chambers to call it a day, but a warning from the Voice makes you freeze in your spot.

Your Lord, in his pale countenance, emerges from among the library shelves with his hands behind his back and makes his way to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"My dream."

You had expected to see him seething in anger given how you had been brushing him off for the past days, not to mention your last conversation which hadn't gone well, but to your surprise and suspicion, his expression is soft, his tone almost pained, as if something is ailing him and he's trying to hide it as best he could.

"I missed you," he whispers, his voice faltering a little with emotion. "It has been seven days since I have…last seen you.

"We need to talk," he adds, his tone begging in the way words couldn't.

You give him the smallest of nods, and his sand engulfs both your forms at once, and when you open your eyes, you're back in his chambers. He doesn't pounce on you as he's always wont to do the moment he gets you alone in his chambers. He simply stands a few feet from you, willing his sand to clear before he states his piece:

"I have decided to restore your dreaming abilities."

Immediately, your eyes shoot up to his starry-blue ones - you must've misheard him, it couldn't be this easy to make him grant your wish…

Right?

"My Lord…are you -?"

"Yes."

You don't know whether to be elated or perplexed, so you settle with both, not knowing what to make of his sudden change of heart.

"Why, my Lord? Why change your mind?" You ask softly with a slight burrowing of your brows.

"Because you will grant me a boon in return."

Your Lord's mysterious words turn resolute all of a sudden - you narrow your eyes in your increasing confusion, and yet his eyes never betray a single emotion except one of absolute staunchness.

"My Lord," you start, carefully choosing your words. "I'm not sure I can give anything you don't already have."

He grins lightly at your words like your answer was one he's expected.

"That is not true. In fact, you are the only one in the Dreaming, and in the universe, that I see fit to grant me my wish."

He takes a few steps closer to you, giving you a full view of those swirling galaxies trapped in his eyes, and like the mere subject you are, you await the words of the otherworldly, godly being before you, transfixed in his beauty.

"I wish for you to bear me life. A child."

And under that celestial gaze of his, you feel your world crumbling and sinking in your gut, and inwardly you fight the urge to be sick before the glow of his eyes.

"No…"

"I understand your hesitation, my dream. But, grant me this, I shall let you roam the sea of dreams once more, and you shall craft dreams of inspiration, just like before," he says with a soft tone, caressing your cheek with his palm in assurance.

Still reeling inwardly from the gravity of his request, you gape at him disbelievingly, letting a few tense moments pass before you find your words.

"My Lord, you didn't give me the capacity for life when you created me," you state, ignoring his other hand running up and down your waist.

But, the tiny smirk on his face tells you he had been expecting this response from you, too.

"You are of my creation, and I can make it so," he declares as he lifts your chin with his fingers. "Our child will inherit the best of you, my dream – your tenacity, your wit, and your passion for my realm. Bear me a child, a son, and I will make him the overseer of all my dreams and nightmares."

Clearly, your Lord and master has been giving this a great deal of thought.

He will use the child to bind you to him further.

But, could you do it? Could you grant him his wish, knowing the Voice is right, and an innocent life may well just be a tool he could use to manipulate you in ways you have yet to discover?

Your Dream Lord's words and his hands wandering to the small of your back and the back of your neck bring you to focus.

"Give me your word now, and I shall grant you what you have been pining for all these months."

"A-and, if…if I ref-refuse?" You stammer, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden.

His grip on you tightens at your question - the hold he has on your back becomes more insistent, his hand behind your neck almost squeezing. You could see his eyes harden at your hypothetical rejection, once again displaying his inability to accept 'no' for an answer.

"You would deny me, and in turn, deny yourself what you've been yearning for?" He asks incredulously. "I have been watching you and the Corinthian talk about dreams, my Mera, and I sense nothing but longing in these conversations. Now, I will not ask again: bear my child, our child, and you shall be you once more."

But, being able to form dreams again, meeting new dreamers and helping them find their passion, and in turn, themselves - there will be a slew of Ethans and Carries who don't have to live their life an empty shell, and you'd be there to make a difference, no matter how small.

And you'd finally have a purpose besides spreading your legs for him when he pleases - it would be one you wouldn't mind fulfilling for the rest of your eternity in his kingdom.

What is it going to be, Mera?

Yet, your Lord knows he does not have to wait for a response - in fact, he fully encases you in an embrace and locks your lips in a bruising kiss to prove this point. His mouth probes inside yours hungrily, repeatedly rolling his tongue on yours as he lifts your body and makes you instinctively wrap your thighs around his midriff and your arms around his neck. He takes both your intertwined forms to his bed at once without wasting time, and in a flash, both your clothes dissolve into fine grains of sand, which too, disappears at his will. His hands roam your bare form with much urgency while his mouth sucks in your lower lip and gently nips it with his teeth.

He then starts attacking your neck with fervour, alternating between open-mouthed kisses and little bites that sting your skin but bring heat surging between your legs. Your breathing turns fast and shallow as his lips ghost over your ear.

"Seven days I was starved of you," he whispers, his hot breath fanning your ear and making you feel light-headed. "You will make up for it."

Promise or threat: with your Lord, it doesn't matter - he does as he wishes, as always - distracting you from your thoughts are the hands that squeeze your breasts with a force that makes your breath hitch. You could brush away those hands, even try to struggle against the body pressing on yours, but truth be told, you're getting exhausted trying to every time he forces to into bed with him, only for him to have his way in the end.

Is it still worth the struggle?

But you never find the answer - instead what you find is your Lord's finger parting the increasingly wet folds between your thighs as he bites your shoulder with surprising strength, earning a sharp cry from you. Perhaps he sensed your distraction; and no, he couldn't have that, never - not when he's taking you.

Panting heavily, you feel him insert a finger inside you, and your body accepts it readily, making a wet sound as it does. You begin moaning softly with the way his finger pumps in and out of you, and he pulls away to get a full view of you, falling apart in his power.

With a blazing look, he teases, "I have half a mind to let you starve as I did..."

He places a second finger inside your walls, brushing over your spot in the process. You buck your hips against his hand when his thumb presses on your clit, and your head falls back on the pillow.

"Just so I could hear you beg for mercy."

His skilful hands repeatedly brush over your spot while simultaneously massaging your clit, and your hips start meeting his, building up the pleasure, but just when you're almost at your peak, you feel his fingers withdraw.

"My Lord, please…" you sob into your pillow, your hands reaching up to him in despair.

"Eager, aren't we? Will you admit you were longing for my touch as well, my dream?"

With a whimper you look up at his face - he wears a smug expression as if he's found the answer to his question, but it was far from the truth and you know it in your heart.

"And from now on, you will call me by my name, especially in the confines of our chambers. Now tell me what it is you seek."

He parts your legs further with one hand while the other softly caresses your cheek, and once more a whimper passes through your lips. You feel him align his hardened length at your entrance, but he doesn't push.

But your body couldn't wait any longer.

"Please, Lord Morpheus, torture me no more," you beg softly, meeting his anxious eyes. "I want you inside me."

And without wasting time, he buries himself fully inside your core to the hilt, its suddenness making you release a strangled noise, but as he withdraws his cock and pushes it back in, you find relief, and in a daze, you start meeting his hips with yours just so you could feel him more. Your Lord takes your thighs and hooks them around his waist to deepen his thrusts, while he picks up a pace that makes you scream hoarsely it echoes in his chambers. You know the moment he starts hitting your sweet spot, you're done for. You meet his unforgiving thrusts as best as you can and he brings your bodies close, desperate to feel more of you while he captures your lips with his in a frenzy. You dig your nails into his back, leaving scratches on his pale skin. You moan in his mouth while your hand reaches to your folds to touch yourself for the first time, massaging and pressing on your clit to help find a quicker release.

But your Lord notices this - he pulls away from the kiss and harshly grabs your hands so he could pin them above your head.

"Do that again and I will deny you release for a week, just like you've done to me," he all but growls against your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. "You will come when I command you so."

He continues pounding into you with a force that blurs the line between pain and pleasure, and in no time, you could feel yourself dissolving into bliss, reduced to nothing but sharp cries and desperate pleas.

"Lord M-Morpheus," you breathe amidst your wanton moans filling his chambers. "Please, I need…I need to…"

"Say it, little dream of mine."

"Morph-fuck, Morpheus, please, make me come, I beg you, please," you draw out raspily, not caring about your language or how you sound. You focus on your master, your creator, drawing out your suffering, until finally -

"Then, come for your King, little dream."

At his command, you shatter beneath him like glass exploding into a thousand pieces, unbearable pleasure coursing through your veins, and you scream his name like a prayer until your throat hurt - but unlike other gods, he's there, anchoring you to him and hearing your prayers, responding to them with a tender kiss to your lips.

You grow limp as your orgasm ebbs away, and your Lord effortlessly turns you to your stomach. You had been expecting this because he hasn't found his release yet, and, persistent with his goal, his hard cock finds itself inside you once again, his thrusts more forceful than the last. His body encloses yours, his chest touching your back, as his mouth lavishes the back of your neck. With his hands bringing your hips flush to his, you find yourself close to your second undoing in no time, mewling sinfully in sync with your Lord's grunts and the cacophony of flesh desperate to meet together.

"Perfect…you're so perfect for me, so tight for your King," he rasps against your reddened skin.

You're so close, but it's also starting to hurt, so you come for him the second he commands you, much more intense than the last, wishing you could take him with you, but it isn't to be, for he doesn't wait for you to catch your breath.

With his skilful manoeuvre of your bodies, you wind up facing him once more, your hands pinned above your head.

Your Lord, dipping his head so close your noses touch, whispers, his eyes containing blazing supernovas that engulf you:

"Once I am done with you, you will have life inside you - my son - you will be round with my child in months, and then you will truly accept your place with me. You are mine, mine alone - no one else can have you."

This time, he pulls your bodies ever closer, your nipples brushing against his chest with even the slightest movement. You could feel the warmth emanating from his body, and the scent of your union finally invading your senses. You could feel your blood pounding in your ears, the marks he left on your skin stinging more than ever before - and his hardened length being continuously slammed inside your increasingly numbing core - everything becomes too much all of a sudden, and like a veil lifted from your eyes, the haze from the lust is replaced by sheer panic.

You start sobbing heavily and thrashing against him, but like always, it's no use - and he takes, continues taking you, despite the pleas, the prayers you thought he'd heed; all you hear from is his groans of pleasure every time he pounds on you, and the word, one you've heard many times, but now being rubbed to your face anew:

Mine, mine, mine.

"Please, no, Lord Morpheus, please, stop, stopstopstop…"

But he doesn't; he never does, never will. You don't come anymore, and he no longer commands you to - in your distress, you couldn't anymore, and he knows it. When his orgasm hits him, you're actually hit with relief, but even that was short-lived: roaring into the night, he loses his rhythm, and as he fills you to the brim with his scorching hot seed, his erratic pumps send jolts of electricity invading your every nerve, and you lay there, limp and sobbing piteously, hurting everywhere, just taking it all I until he's done.

And you feel it - life burrowing inside you, swirling, barely perceptible, but it's there: your child, his child, clinging onto you for the very first time...

Your Lord doesn't pull out, not yet; bring your foreheads together, breath fanning your face, he says, ever-so-softly:

"Do you feel it, my love, my life, my dream? Our son, our heir, our proof of love?"

With a choked sob, you nod, reality hitting you like a sharp slap to the face. It's proving all too much for you and with a whisper only you could hear, the Voice gives you the gentlest of prompts:

Sleep.

And you do, but not before you feel a soft, feathery kiss on your forehead - your Lord, bidding you, and the life you both formed, a kiss good night.

***

You barely register the way your Lord stirs at the first rays of sunlight that enter his realm. Embracing you from behind, he plants a soft kiss on your exposed shoulder, then on your neck, before moving to your cheek, his hand ghosting over your abdomen. He bids you farewell for the day to attend to his duties, but after he leaves, you drift back to sleep, having been drained of energy from last night.

The next time you come to, Morwyn greets you with your usual tray of breakfast, except, aside from the coffee you're partial to, your tray holds a six-inch carrot cake topped with cream cheese frosting, with the word 'congratulations' written in blue icing. She then smiles shyly at you, revealing the entire kingdom to be overjoyed at the coming of their little prince.

You smile at her, holding out your hand in thanks, which she takes, giggling excitedly.

"I'm going to finally have a little boy to dress up. I promise I'll make him look as princely as he can be," she says in a jovial tone, before excusing herself to draw your bath.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to scream yourself hoarse and heave on an empty stomach.

And you know you had to keep up the act too - you meet Mervyn the Pumpkinhead on your way downstairs, wiping the staircase railings. With a tip of his hat, he greets you in his usual fashion.

"It has been a while since we've seen little runts running about the halls causing a ruckus," he comments through the lit cigar lodged in his orange mouth. "Knowing you, kid, that child might just be the end of me."

He goes on cleaning the rest of the marble railing, whistling tunelessly, unaware of that inner storm brewing inside you. You start wishing you wouldn't meet anyone else on your way to the library, but of course, there's Lucienne, whose smile, as effervescent as ever, greets you the moment you reach your favourite reading place. But it isn't just her that's waiting - spread on your favourite coffee table, spilling all over the floor and across the leather sofas, are packages upon packages, some wrapped in dainty, intricate ribbons, some painted in shades of colour an artist would drool over, and letters, mountains of them, all addressed to you, and to the little prince who you had only conceived the night before.

But, why, and how?

Lucienne, ever the sharper one between the both of you, clarifies, "They're tokens, greeting cards - well-wishes to the princess and the little prince, sent from all over the universe, and I don't see them stopping anytime soon.

"Congratulations, my Lady," she says, her voice breaking up in unadulterated joy, clasping your hands in hers.

You both spend the rest of the morning opening them and sorting them out, and by the time your scheduled meeting with your nightmare friend comes around, you barely make a dent in all the presents and the cards.

When Morwyn arrives to fetch you and tell you that the garden has been set up, you're glad to finally get an excuse to break away from the sickening, celebratory air the presents brought about.

At least your next company would give you less bullshit.

And so you sit on the garden chair, with a sprawling feast of sweets you had no appetite for indulging in, downing coffee like it would somehow make everything feel better (it doesn't).

"I thought coffee was bad for you," your friend drawls as he makes his approach, sitting on the chair before you. He pours himself a cup of coffee from the porcelain kettle.

"Everything will be bad for me in a few months," you say flatly as you cross your arms and slouch on your seat. "How did you find out?"

"Word travels fast here, princess," he replies with a shrug. "You probably had enough of this by now, so I won't say 'congratulations.'"

It turns out that's all it takes for you to break.

You couldn't control the onslaught of tears that escape the corner of your eyes, and thankfully, your friend makes no mention of it, no matter how uncomfortably he squirms in his chair. For you, it seems, he endures the next few minutes with only your quiet sniffling to break the awkward silence.

Eventually, you find the words you wanted to say.

"I could've stopped him, but I didn't, and now I have him."

The Corinthian, cursing under his breath, lights up a cigarette, and responds, "I'm not good at this, I usually make them cry, not the other way around." With a grin that comes out more of a grimace, he continues, "But uh…if it makes you feel any better, princess, you couldn't have stopped him. No one can. His kingdom, his rules; and there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

You wipe your tears with the sleeve of your dress in a very unladylike-like manner before belatedly grabbing the napkin on your side of the table. "You're right, as always," you softly remark, finally willing your tears to stop.

"Hey, think of it this way; if that kid is anything like you, he'll give Morpheus one hell of a time."

Apparently, that's all it takes for you to lighten up, too.

He laughs along with you, while a scene plays out in your head: the image of a kid, hair as black as his father's, puking on the Dream King's shirt - it's a scene you gladly tuck away in the recesses of your mind.

"It's not like I got the short end of the stick," you comment in a lighter tone, deciding to sample one of the lemon bars on the spread. "I got my dreaming abilities back."

"Ah, so you are getting something out of this besides the sex."

You shoot him a half-hearted glare, but you end up shaking your head as your grin grows wider. "So, finally, I get to meet that nightmare you're fawning over, granted, you'll let me come with you."

"No one's fawning over anyone, princess, and I wouldn't want to be around to watch whatever cheesy shit you craft," he flippantly responds as he picks a chocolate truffle on the table and puts it in his mouth. Is that what it looks like when he eats eyeballs, you vaguely wonder to yourself.

He gets to his feet, stomping on the cigarette butt he throws on the ground. He makes a motion with his head, urging you to follow him.

Together, you walk a path you have been looking forward to walking along, and at the end of it, your most coveted prize:

The sea of dreams.

With a two-finger salute, the Corinthian dives ahead of you, presumably to meet with Sumnio. You take a second to yourself to look around the calm, blue waters, seeing nothing beneath it as you peek into the depths below. Satisfied with what you see, you dive headfirst, just like the first time you did so, except, this time, without the comforting hand that you no longer needed.

The waters are full of everything the dreamers have to offer, but unlike the first time, you don't get overwhelmed with the entire collective unconscious of the whole of humanity - with expertise, your senses hone in on a dreamer you had intended on helping even before you had gotten your powers back; a dreamer whose future you could finely sculpt now that your dream-forming abilities are back at full strength.

And you land, with the grace of the princess, on the fantasy world that Ethan had built. A few feet away from you is the Conqueror of Dragons and Commander of Legions, but he does not notice your arrival - he's busy fighting what looks like an ogre ten times his size with a long dagger, much likr the one you had once handed to him.

Cracking your knuckles delightedly, you get to work.

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Aside from the very busy sched lately, it's the smut here that got me stumped. Sorry for the delay and ILY all!!

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 1/29/22

Edit date: 1/29/22

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[elvenlords]

Greetings, Squatterbloat. I seek an audience with your sovereign. And who might you be? I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms. Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown? Guard your tongue, demon. The Ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honored guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own. So where's your ruby? Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too? Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through? Now, take us to the palace. There's one at the door. There's one at the door.

THE SANDMAN 1.04: "A Hope in Hell"

[valrayne-faeu]

we have gotten a few asks about the “rules” for making a sona or OC in the faeu, so if you’re someone that likes to be “canon-compliant” or have a set of rules to follow when making an OC, here they are! (feel free to not follow them if you don’t want to, you’re welcome to use your imagination)

Dream and Nightmare are the oldest current living fae in the Seasonal Realms at 1500 years old, older fae either left or died during the war

there are no hybrid fae (spring/autumn, summer/winter, etc). the Spring-Summer and Autumn-Winter magics are like oil and water and cannot mix. a fae has the magic of whatever realm they were born into, and a human that becomes fae will have the magic of whatever realm they were tricked in.

Spring-Summer fae can’t travel to Autumn-Winter (and vice versa) without protections or the blessing of the king of where they’re travelling. fae will fall very ill from the conflicting magic after spending even an hour across the border (Summer fae will have a cold and Winter fae will have a fever).

it is possible to convert to another realm, but it is a process and you have to be blessed by the king of the realm you’re switching to in a ceremony. however, if you convert to Spring-Summer and then change your mind and want to return to Autumn-Winter, Nightmare will refuse to let you return. so choose wisely. Dream is more lenient—if you convert to Autumn-Winter and then want to return to Spring-Summer, Dream will welcome you back.

there are certain physical traits associated with each court—

Summer/Spring Court - Antlers. Wings: Butterfly, Dragonfly, Bee, Praying Mantis, Wasp, Fly

Winter/Autumn Court - Horns. Wings: Moth, Beetle, Cicada, Grasshopper, Firefly, Cockroach

there are fae that aren’t based on insects! fae that are bird-like, have traits of dragons or unicorns, things like that. feel free to get creative with it ^^

fae can’t lie, it makes them physically ill. it’s not worth it to try. you can trade a human for the ability to lie, however only one fae has managed to do so. most fae don’t think it’s a skill they need, and the ability to manipulate words and dancing around the truth is a highly valued skill. fae culture loves wordplay. humans that are becoming fae will find telling lies makes them more and more ill until they’re dissuaded from it.

there are realms beyond the faewildes, and other kingdoms of fae with different magics. it is possible to travel from one to another through the wildes but it is dangerous. the faewildes do not have a ruler as wild magic doesn’t like to be tamed, but there are fae that survive out there (Error is one example).

in the fae realms there are some fae known as “Aspects”. fae that went through a lot of complicated, life-altering, incredibly influential experiences that were entirely concentrated around a singular concept of some kind. it changes them fundamentally as a person, concentrating their magic on that concept until they are tied to it intrinsically and it is as much a part of them as they are a part of it. events on the level of Frisk surviving a beam from Asriel as the god of hyperdeath at 0.0000001 HP through sheer Determination, or all the things that made Sans into Geno and then ultimately into Error. they become that thing personified. Aspects are incredibly powerful and exceedingly rare, and it’s a very big deal for one to happen. notable Aspects are Dream (Positivity), Nightmare (Negativity), Error (Chaos), and Ink (Inspiration).

a lot of the faeu is based on Celtic folklore—there are many interesting concepts and creatures to read about and pull inspiration from. i recommend reading up on the Tuatha Dé Danann and Aos Sí!

all fae can make magically-binding deals, even humans that just got tricked into staying in the fae realms that haven’t turned fae yet. magically-binding deals are usually limited to things that you can actually complete, such as trading something you own/have or doing some kind of service. with study and training it is possible to strengthen your magic and give intangible things such as a boon/luck/etc. the more tied you are to the magic of the realm the more powerful you are and the more complex of a deal you can make. it takes lots of study to reach this level.

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Five - What we are

☆☆☆

You hated it. It felt so wrong. Hell was not quite what you expected it to be, but that seemed worse to you. What you hated most is that your apparent soulmate has brought you here. If so much as cared even a little bit, why would he bring you to Hell?

Perhaps you're seeing the man he is.

"So, this is Hell." Matthew caws.

"It had many names. Avernus, Tartarus, Hades, the infernal region you call Hell." Dream lists off.

"Can we get this over with, please? I don't want to be here any longer than we need to be." You glare softly at him. You want Dream to know you hate this.

He doesn't even look at you. He walls off without a word, and you scoff lightly. He doesn't even have the decency to speak to you. Matthew hurries after him with his little legs. You follow behind, slowly.

The path eventually leads you to a gate. All around the gate are people groaning. They're a part of the wall, unable to go anywhere. You really don't like it.

"We're not going in with them?" Matthew asks, looking st the damned who just passed through the gate.

"A king may not enter another monarch's realm uninvited," Dream says. "There are rules, protocols, that must be followed."

"You're... a king?" You ask, eyeing him. You know very little about this man.

"Yes."

Off to the side of the gate is a gong. You watch Dream approach, and one of the figures in the wall reaches out to hand him the mallet. Dream takes it and hits the gong. The souls all groan due to the noise.

You turn to the gate when you hear someone approaching.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation." A heavy voice speaks from the other side.

A demon appears, and you find yourself taking a step back. Dream glances back at you. You pretend for a moment that's he's doing it out of concern.

"Is it thief, thug, or whore? There's one at the door. And there's room for one more. Till the end of creation."

"Greetings, Squatterbloat." Morpheus speaks. "I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"And who might you be?" The demon asks.

"I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms."

"Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown?"

Morpheus scoffs softly. "Guard your tongue demon. The ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honoured guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own."

"So, where's your ruby?"

"Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too?" Morpheus asks. "Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through?"

The demon opens the gates.

"Now, take us to the palace."

You swallow nervously. Dream turns back around to you and stares at you. You're starting to hate that stare. He turns back around and walks forward. Matthew glances up at you, but you ignore him slowly follow Dream.

Squatterbloat starts leading the way. Morpheus follows the demon. You follow behind them both quietly. Matthew hops along by your feet. You can feel him looking up at you every so often, but you ignore him. You know he has questions.

"Where are we?" You ask after a while. You find yourselves in the middle of a foggy woodland. You can't see very far in front of you.

"The landscape is subject to the whims of the Morningstar."

"Morningstar...? As in...?"

"Yes." Morpheus glances at you.

Lucifer. Of course you knew. You never really believed in such things, but you supposed as you got older, the idea of Lucifer and Hell did seem likely. Especially after your father died. Was he down here somewhere? Probably.

"Are you afraid?" Morpheus asks.

"No."

He doesn't believe you. You can tell just by the way he looks at you. However, he offers no sort of comfort and reassurance. He simply turns around and avoids looking at you anymore. He doesn't speak again for a little while. Not until Squatterbloat is leading you up a strange twisted tower.

"Does this seem like the way to you?" You ask, looking up at him.

"A demon has a hundred motives for anything he does. All of them malevolent. Demon," he adresses Sqautterbloat, "this is not the way."

The demon chuckles.

Morpheus moves to follow him but is stopped by a voice. "Kai'ckul."

You both turn to the prison cell beside you. You stare in awe at the woman inside. You don't know who she is, but she certainly knows the man you're with.

"Dream Lord? It is you." She looks so happy to see him.

"I greet you, Nada." He speaks to her, appearing as he did to her all those years ago.

"How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come." She tears up.

You glimpse at the demon. He did this on purpose. You frown slightly. What ws this? Who was this? Why did Dream look so... pained?

"It pains me to see you like this."

"Then, free me, Lord." Nada says. "Only your forgiveness can free me. Do you not still love me?" She cries.

"It had been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes. I still love you. But I have not forgiven you." Dream tells her.

Morpheus continues walking. You slowly follow him, looking at the woman as you pass by.

"Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope." Nada calls out. "I will never give up."

"Who was that?" You ask.

"Someone."

You sigh softly. He was so vague, and it was annoying. You hated not having answers. He brought you down to Hell and couldn't even be bothered, bringing you up to speed. If this is how he was going to be, you would rather not bother hanging about with him. Soulmate or not.

The silence grows heavy as you both walk. You feel like he won't talk to you anymore, but his voice surprises you when you hear it next.

"Her name is Nada. We were lovers."

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you. You were curious about this new information. He's had lovers before? Of course he has.

"Why is she here?"

"I put her here."

You stop walking and stare at him in shock. He realises you've stopped following him and turns to you slowly. His eyes pierce you.

"You put her here?"

He remains silent.

"How can you do that? What did she do?" You ask.

Morpheus knows you're not going to drop this subject. Of course you won't. He came to your rescue and immediately brought you along to come fetch his tools. You're full of questions.

"She said no to me."

You scoff. "She said no, and you had imprisoned in Hell for eternity?"

He once again remains silent.

"Is that what you do? You fall in love with people, and if they say no, you cast them aside? How can you do that? Don't you care about people, Dream Lord? Is this what I have to look forward to?"

His expression seems to change, but only slightly. He wasn't expecting you to ask that of all things.

"No."

"No? So I can go after all this?"

He goes silent. He knows you mean to refuse him and leave his side, but how can he possibly let you go now that he's found you? He can't.

"We must go." He turns back around and walks away. You can only follow him. He's your only way out of this horrible place.

Yet, you find it hard to hide how you're feeling. He can tell you're upset.

Squatterbloat leads you up a hill and then stops. He turns and walks away, leaving you and Morpheus alone. Just beyond is the castle of Lucifer Morningstar.

The road to the castle is long and narrow.

The castle is huge. The gates open. Blood pools out from the opening. You step back as it comes close to your feet. Dream seems unfazed by this morbid display. He walks onward, taking the lead. Morpheus leads you through the dark cavernous halls.

"So... we're going to see Lucifer?" You all softly.

"Only Lucifer can find me the demon who has my helm."

"You do realise how terrifying all of this I'd for me, right? None of this normal. I'm so... lost and afraid."

Dream says nothing, and you fear he never will. He's not exactly a warm and loving person. Why did the universe see it fit to stick you with him? What made you so special that you were bonded to the man kf dreams?

You follow him into an open room. A fire is lit on the centre, and Lucifer themself stands overlooking their kingdom. You feel nerves setting in. Morpheus comes to a stop and clasps his hands together. You stay behind Dream a little, almost hiding.

Lucifer turns around.

"Hello." Lucifer walks closer, never once looking away from Dream. Once in front of Morpheus, Lucifer stops. "Hello, Dream."

"Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"You look well, Dream. Are you well?" Lucifer asks. "And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?"

Morpheus scoffs in amusement. "I presume the Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call."

"Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"

"You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer."

You look up at Morpheus.

"Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals." Lucifer says.

You swallow nervously. That was all because of your family. Your father. Despite everything, you wished none of it had happened. Dream never should have been captured.

"We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus."

"I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me." He states. "I believe one of your demons has it. I should like it back. Now."

"Dream, if only it were that easy. But there are rules, you see." Protocols which must be followed."

You feel uneasy, and you think Morpheus can sense it.

"Which demon has your helm?" Lucifer asks. "Name it, and we will bring it here."

"I confess I do not know the name." Morpheus tells Lucifer.

Lucifer stands on the balcony overlooking their kingdom. "Then we will have to summon all of them."

Lucifer takes Morpheus to the balcony and summons all the demons of Hell. You inhale sharply through your nose, trying not to be too obvious about how afraid you were. The most shocking part of it all was Dream placing his hand on yours. You look up at him, but he does not look at you.

"There, now, Dream, you may inquire. Which Demon has your helmet? Shall we interview them one at a time, or..."

"That won't be necessary," he tells Lucifer. Morpheus steps away from the balcony and lets go of your hand. You had been somewhat comforting his touch, but now the fear settles in your bones once more now that he has let go.

"It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied on your tools. But tools are the subtlest of traps."

Morpheus stops.

"We become reliant upon them, and in their absence, we are vulnerable, weak defenseless."

"Not entirely." Morpheus reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pouch of sand. "I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell, and now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me."

You watch him curiously. He kneels down and begins to pour the sand onto the polished ground. It swirls around until a figure appears. A demon holding his helmet.

Morpheus stands and faces the demon. "Tell me your name, demon."

"Do I have to tell him?" The demon asks.

"That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell." Lucifer speaks for him.

"Choronzon... The Helm is mine. You must return it to me."

"No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws. And if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it... or trade it." Choronzon looks at you.

You feel a chill run down your spine.

Lucifer smiles. "Ah, the woman."

"No." Morpheus says. "She is not up for trade."

You look up at him. He was protecting you. At least he wasn't offering you up. That would have for worse.

"Then a fight it is." Choronzon states, looking at the Dream Lord.

"Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon."

The demon chuckles. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."

"If I win, you will return my helmet."

"And if you lose," Choronzon looks at you again, "I get both the helmet and the girl."

Morpheus' eyes narrow. "That's not part of the deal."

"It is now," Lucifer confirms.

You look at Morpheus with fear. Lucifer is suddenly behind you and grabs your wrist. You gasp softly at the cold touch of their hand. Lucifer is looking at your scar.

"Interesting. A soulmate bond."

Dream keeps his head held high as he watches Lucfier. He doesn't like the way Lucifer is just touching you in front of him.

"Your soulmate, I presume." Lucifer smiles. "I wasn't aware the Endless had such things."

"She is not part of this deal." Morpheus states.

"It's all or nothing, Dream Lord," Choronzon remarks.

Morpheus stares at the demon with a steel gaze. He can not afford to lose. Not this game. "I accept the terms."

You feel fear in your veins. Morpheus has just added you to the deal. Were you really so easy to trade? He was heartless. You were certain of it.

"And whom will you choose to represent you in battle?" Lucifer asks him.

"I shall represent myself."

"Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?"

"Hmm... I choose you, sire."

Morpheus realises what he is up against and knows he can not afford to lose. He does not dare meet your eyes as Lucifer comes up behind him, dressed in attire fitting for this battle.

"Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion."

"I have accepted the terms."

Morpheus changed his clothes for battle. He looked good. Very good. However, that was the least of your worries right now. Your whole existence was in his hands.

"Let the challenge begin."

You feel your heart racing in your chest and hope that with all you have, Morpheus can beat Lucifer. You have to believe that this bond meant something more to him. After all, why would he bother rescuing you from your family home if he did not care a little?

There had to be more to your purpose to him. Though, you can't help thinking about Nada. We're you destined to join her here in Hell?

What kind of man was Dream. You're not sure you could figure him out.

☆☆☆

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[modcroissant]

Chat

Chat???

I FUCKING DID IT AGAIN

Someone help me oml-

Very veRY long lore dump below;

Dandy's World Dream Realm

It's where the toons are some sort of Dream guardians that guard your dreams from nightmares and disasters and make sure you have both a good dream and sleep!

Known Roles;

Ruler of the Dream Realm - Astro

Guardians of Dreams - Dandy, Pebble, Vee, Shelly, Sprout

Dream Supervisors - Brightney, Connie, Flutter, Poppy, Rodger, Scraps

Nightmare Cleanup Team - Finn, Tisha, Shrimpo, Dazzle

Dream Fixers - Boxten, Cosmo, Razzle, Gigi, Looey, Goob, Glisten, Teagan, Toodles

Ruler of the Dream Realm

Known info; Rules over the Dream Realm and has control over dreams and events in it but does not have control over nightmares

- Astro is only and always will be the one to rule over the Dream Realm, having control over each dream and able to manipulate the events in them. Though, he does not have control over the nightmares to fully stop them. The most powerful out of all the toons, even Dandy wouldn't stand a chance if he somehow could.

Guardians of Dreams

Known info; Protects dreams from nightmares and mostly the ones to defeat them, more stronger but not at the level of the Ruler's strength

- Dandy is the most trusted guardian as he's both; Astro's bestest friend and the fact that he defeats nightmares the most. When not doing rounds or killing nightmares, he's running a shop like he always did.

- Pebble takes any nightmare's attention away from dreams to him to lead them away, while not exactly the best when actually trying to defeat a nightmare; Pebble is still in the role as guardian due to his ability.

- Vee maybe egoistic, but on the field; she's ready to cut down nightmares. Able to highlight from the least to the most dangerous nightmares when encountering one. She may not be someone you usually trust to keep your dream safe, but Vee is willing to do as much as she can to do her part.

- Once almost forgotten and ignored, Shelly is back in the spotlight! Due to her high knowledge on each nightmares and their types, Shelly is mostly the one in the field and being trusted the most alongside Dandy. How she managed to memorize all the nightmares is a mystery yet to be solved.

- Sprout is not only excellent in the kitchen but also in the battlefield, with his stamina and strength; he's able to beat down nightmares in a jiffy. Though Sprout does get too focused on one nightmare most of the time, it's why he's always partnered up when sent to deal with nightmares.

Dream Supervisors

Known info; Supervises dreams and keeps an eye on each one to alert either the ruler or guardians, has access to documents on each dream to know when something isn't right

- Brightney keeps a close eye on each dream with attending them, making sure nothing was out of place and that it is safe from nightmares trying to destroy it.

- Connie sometimes slacks but does her job well by noting any suspicious events and behavior in each dream she's supervising, she makes sure to let the guardians know of them whenever she could.

- Flutter is one silent yet hardworking supervisor when it comes to keeping watch on the dreams she's assigned to. Due to her inability to speak, she has a harder time trying to alert the others of nightmares but Gigi is always counted on when trying to understand what Flutter was trying to say.

- Poppy maybe a little rookie, but she still did the best job at keeping watch for nightmares. Able to make bubbles to keep watch on dreams she's not able to attend to for more supervision.

- Rodger has a keen eye out of the supervisors, able to recognize that something was out of place and not part of the dream in an instant. Sometimes take risks to research on nightmares.

- Scraps is not just protective over her friends but also the dreams she's supervising. More often then not trying to remove anything that isn't part of the dream out to rid any of the nightmares finding a place to call 'home'.

Nightmare Cleanup Team

Known info; Cleanups nightmares or any area in a dream to keep the nightmares at bay, instructed to clean every dream THROUGHLY

- Finn is one punny toon, often more then not making puns to either himself or any of his fellow Nightmare Cleanup members. While unserious most of the time, he does drop it when things get real serious.

- Tisha is one hardworker! Especially when cleaning things up. No spot of nightmares is safe from Tisha's keen eye when cleaning time is in, leaving any dream spotless.

- Only suitable role for Shrimpo is in the Nightmare Cleanup Team. Not the best but it's better then him not having any role to do his part to protect the dreams. Aggressive when cleaning, but this helps rid any hard to scrab off blots of nightmares.

- Dazzle is pretty slow when getting to spots to clean but leaves huge clean results afterwards. Tisha usually gets partnered up with him to help Dazzle finish faster.

Dream Fixers

Known info; Dream fixers fixes... Well, dreams when nightmares managed to shatter and destroy them. The amount of members depends on how damaged the dream was

- Boxten may seem like a rookie, but he's an expert when fixing dreams up and putting places back to where they belong. Though he does sometimes get too focused on one spot.

- Cosmo can easily sweeten a dream up when he comes around to fix it up! Not just fixing the dream but also adding some generous sweet effects to it before he left.

- Razzle helps around a lot by locating each pieces of the dream, though he does get easily distracted so Dazzle had to be with him whenever Razzle has to fix up a dream.

- Dream Fixer may not be the best role for Gigi but it was the only one that was suitable enough. Gigi would be able to gather pieces of a shattered dream from her gashapon but this only works if she has enough pieces of that dream.

- Looey would help secure the dreams with balloons, all colors and shapes alike. Not only helping the dream heal but also brighten it up. It may not be much but it was the least he could do.

- Goob helps around a lot by gathering dream pieces that were far out of reach for the others to grab, from either high grounded areas or spots that the others couldn't step into.

- Glisten can easily fix up dreams with his ability to teleport from one dream to another, allowing him to finish his work early then the rest of the Dream Fixers. He brags about it a lot.

- Teagan is there to make sure Toodles is not hurt when fixing dreams, along with keeping an eye for danger lurking around. Most of the time though, she's having tea.

- Toodles is just a little too young to have any official role but due to her multiple attempts to help around and do her part, Astro gave in. She's given the Dream Fixer role along with Teagan to avoid her getting hurt.

That's all, the designs are coming- i promise I'll do modified ichor as well-