#thank you mera for the insp for this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dotieeee · 2 years ago

Text

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 14

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)

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

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

mild threats

Gaslighting!!

new kinks unlocked lol

some(??) angst??

Mentions of ED/body/eating issues if u squint

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

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 14: A Festivity and A Fight

“Lady Death,” you bow your head in greeting before flashing a smile that matches hers. Her warmth is infectious, and despite your creator’s gloomy demeanour, her presence alone brightened up the otherwise dreary office that rarely ever saw occupants. “It’s a pleasure and honour to meet you. You’re even more radiant as they say in person.”

Now completely ignoring her brother who’s openly scowling behind her, Lady Death waves off your praise with a light chuckle. “Never mind me, look at you, you’re beautiful! I came to congratulate you on your coronation.”

“Thank you, my Lady. It’d be a privilege to have you as an honoured guest at the party,” you say excitedly. You’ve heard a lot about the kind Endless, so having a friendly face among the crowd of unfamiliar royalty would be a huge reprieve for you.

But her smile turns apologetic, and as she’s about to open her mouth to respond, however, your Dream Lord interjects on her behalf.

“As much as we’d like to have her join the festivity, my dream, my sister is quite the busy Endless. The invitation, however, still remains,” he declares with a somewhat dismissive tone as he makes his approach, maintaining eye contact with his elder sister.

Lad Death simply raises her eyebrows at him, before turning back to you to confirm her brother’s statement. “He’s right, unfortunately. I only came here to have a small chat with my little brother about an important matter,” she says apologetically while she takes both of your hands in hers. “And of course, to send my well-wishes to his precious princess-to-be. I’m really sorry, Mera, but I’ll come by another time and we’ll have our own talk, I promise.”

She lets go of your hands and steps out the door. With one final pointed look at her brother and a warning tone, she declares, “Dream, this discussion isn’t over.”

***

“Morwyn, isn’t this a little too heavy?”

You’re seated right in front of a vanity in your quarters, staring at yourself in the ornate mirror. The attendant in question, currently fussing over the dress you’re supposed to wear for the ceremony, had applied the makeup on your face and in your humble opinion, the lipstick she applied was a little too red for your liking, and it reminded you a little too well of the shade your creator fancies so much.

Maybe that’s why she chose the shade for you.

After your brief meeting with Lady Death a while ago, the Dream Lord had lightly admonished you for helping out instead of preparing for the big celebration, but in the end, praised you for your efforts in welcoming the guests on his behalf. With a kiss he was reluctant to cut short, he used his sand to transport you to your quarters, where Morwyn was waiting for you, along with a warm bath, the dress he wanted you to wear and everything else you needed to get ready.

Morwyn spares you a glance from the dress she’s busy inspecting. “What are you talking about m’lady? You look absolutely beautiful,” she says with a kind smile. “Besides, it was the only shade on the vanity. His majesty really likes red, doesn’t he?”

Yes, he does.

“The weird thing is he never wears the colour, except for the ruby, but I haven’t seen that on him in a long time…Oh, and I guess you won’t be wearing your headdress, now that he’s going to give you a different one and all that…”

While Morwyn mutters to herself, you make the last-minute adjustments to your hair and makeup, then with her assistance, start putting on the dress. It’s the most luxurious gown you have worn yet, with its strapless, sweetheart bodice made of the finest silk and tons of tulle cascading from the waist past your feet, trailing down the floor, all in an admittedly luxurious shade of currant. It’s also the most burdensome so far, for every inch of the gown is covered with tiny slivers of intricately-cut rubies that glittered at every angle. A gown that only princesses could dream of, and it fits you like a glove.

Just as Morwyn was fastening the last ribbon at the back of the dress, you both hear a soft knock on the door. You King enters without waiting for a response, and once his eyes land on you, he never veers his gaze away.

You get a glimpse of your Dream Lord’s form and fight the chance to openly gape: he had forgone his usual garb in favour of a billowing robe made of the richest brocade in his preferred midnight shade, and underneath it, he wears a sleek, double-breasted suit of the same colour, and around his neck is a ruby he has fashioned in the same likeness as the one his adversary had destroyed, presumably to subtly match your outfit. With his hair combed back compared to its normally unkempt state, he looks every bit like the majestic King he is, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him either.

“Morwyn, leave us.”

You mutter a soft ‘thank you’ at her as she bows before you both, then steps out of the room, leaving you both alone.

He seems to recognize the effect he has on you and puts on a sly grin as he closes in on you at a steady pace.

“Your beauty transcends space and time, my Mera,” he compliments, stopping mere inches away from you. He dips his head closer, fanning your face with his warm breath, as he strokes your cheek with his forefinger.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you return the favour, stammering, “Y-you look quite, uh, dashing yourself, my Lord.”

With his grin growing wider, he remarks, “Today, you shall kneel before me, as you have done many times within the confines of our shared chambers, but this time for a different reason: I shall crown you and you will take your eternal place beside me.” He then pushes you against the wall without warning and encases you in a searing kiss. It isn’t long before the kiss turns more heated, with his lips trailing down from your jaw to settle on suckling and biting on a spot on your neck, a spot that would alarmingly be visible to anyone and everyone who would lay their eyes on you, given how much skin the gown is revealing.

With a tiny squeal, you protest, “My Lord, please, they’re going to see –”

“And I intend to let them,” he cuts you off, whispering hotly against the reddened skin. “Everyone attending will then know that the princess-consort is off-limits except only for the King of Dreams.” He then turns you around and continues marking you, this time on a spot on your back near your left shoulder, all while pinning you to the wall with his hands on your hips to hold you in place. With a final graze of his lips on your shoulder, he caresses his way upwards to your neck and breathes against your ear, “I have a half mind of taking you against this wall until you’re dripping with my seed…”

But before you could object, he adds, “But I wouldn’t want my dream to appear exhausted even before the festivities begin, and I know how…rough our love-making can be.”

You release a sigh of relief as he backs away from you, and you turn around to face him. He still has that smirk on his face, maintaining eye contact as he wipes away the residue of your ruined lipstick with his thumb.

“We should go. The ceremony will begin momentarily.”

He just stares in mild amusement as you make your way to the vanity to reapply your lipstick, straighten your gown and fix your hair, even though you know it will all be ruined by tonight, as he’ll likely have his way with you anyway.

***

The ceremony went rather smoothly, thanks to the entire palace staff doing their best to keep the guests, and ultimately, their Dream King, happy.

The venue where the celebration was held was a completely new addition to the Dreaming. In honour of your ascent to a royal post, your creator had crafted a sweeping garden within the palace grounds just for the occasion. Surrounded by well-trimmed bushes and small trees blooming with flowers of varying shades and sorts at all corners and lined with marble flooring, he had encased it entirely in a glass dome made of iridescent panels, allowing the sunshine to stream through in all colours in the spectrum for the naked eye to marvel at. He had created this elaborate outdoor ballroom a mere two weeks ago to allow the staff to make the preparations in advance, but not before showing it to you - he had even kissed you on the elevated platform at the far end where he and you will be seated.

It was clear to you at that point that he was trying to win you over with such lavish gestures.

When Lucienne announced the arrival of the King of Dreams and his new princess-consort, everyone in attendance stood to their feet and fell into a hush. When you both made your entrance, everyone’s eyes were on both of you as you made your way to the stage where a large, bejewelled throne, and a smaller but equally decorated one beside it, were placed behind a long table. He had insisted on marching with your arm linked in his, for which you felt grateful – on top of trying hard not to fall flat on your face in your heels, the eyes openly gaping at you made you feel even more nervous, so you clung onto him for support. When you reach the platform, he commanded you on your knees, declared before the entire Dreaming your official title, and promptly crowned you with a small, golden tiara he fashioned with his sand on the spot, decorated in the middle with a single, large ruby (to the audience’s collective gasp of awe). Holding out his hand, he instructed you to take it and get on your feet, and the entire dome bowed their heads, and with a gesture of his palm, they erupted in deafening applause, welcoming the first, and the only princess-consort to their king.

Your Dream Lord then guided you to your place beside him before seating on his throne and gave the order for the feast to begin.

Needless to say, the food was incomparable to anything you’ve ever had, courtesy of the palace chefs and Taramis’s crew, and the music was divine, as your Dream Lord managed to invite a band of talented musicians, some of them humans in their dreams, to play for the guests. Eventually, when the booze started kicking in, Lucienne finally gave the word for the dancing to begin; the Dream Lord, after all, isn’t known for dancing, and it seems like it was enough for him to stay seated on his throne, with his hand intertwined in yours, and watch in mild amusement as his guests and subjects made merry in your name. Shortly after, he stood, urging you to come with him, and asked if you could go around with him to exchange a few words with some of the guests.

***

“...you teach history? That is fascinating, given you’ve been there to witness it all,” you remark lightly before you sip your wine.

Hob Gadling chuckles as he finishes the last spoonful of his cherry trifle. You and your Dream Lord, sitting across you both watching you interact, had joined him at his table shortly after you had finished speaking with some of his notable guests – royals and leaders from other realms across the universe. Your king had invited his centuries-long immortal friend in person and had transported his physical body to the Dreaming realm just so he could meet you. And so far, he’s been an absolute treasure.

“Well, all those years’d be a waste if I didn’t. Enough about me though. I’ve got to leave in about –” Hob glances at his watch – “Ten minutes. Class. So,” he pauses deliberately, motioning between you and your master with a finger. “I have to know how this happened. I mean, you’re very attractive, and he’s a king, sure, but it’s not like he’s the most charming one on the block.”

You try stifling your laugh with your palm, but it only intensifies due to the unamused stare he gets from your Dream Lord.

Laughing with you, Hob continues, “What did he do, trap you into it or something? Because that’s the only way –”

“Hob Gadling. Don’t you have a class to attend?” Your Dream Lord flatly chimes in, clearly not liking the direction of the conversation. He rises to his feet with a stiff posture, which Hob follows with an exasperated eye-roll.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mera,” says with a warm smile and gives you a one-armed hug. Discreetly, he whispers against your ear so your Dream Lord doesn’t hear, “Is he still an ass?”

“Always,” you reply secretly in the softest of tones, before adding loudly so he doesn’t suspect a thing, “The pleasure is all mine, Hob. Do drop by again when you can.”

You watch them both as they stroll out of the dome, still feeling slightly amused with your exchange. Once you’re left alone at the table, you let out a huff, watching everyone on the dance floor have the time of their lives. Food and drink are still plenty, the kitchens made sure of that, and while you didn’t have that much of an appetite a while ago sitting beside your king, all that small talk depleted your rapidly decreasing social battery, so reach for Hob’s leftover dessert plate which he had barely touched due to his abrupt departure.

“So, Dream finally left with his boyfriend, huh?”

You whip your head around to see who had just spoken sarcastically to find round sunglasses dark as night, slick, blonde hair and a lopsided grin.

“Hello, Corinthian,” you greet the nightmare as he settles down on the empty seat beside you. “And I never thought I’d hear ‘Dream’ and ‘boyfriend’ in a sentence together.”

Leaning back on his chair and crossing his legs in a laid-back fashion, he grins wider and comments, “Do I sense a hint of jealousy? I don’t think it suits you, my lady.”

For the first time in the day, you don’t try stifling your giggles – finally, a company with whom you don’t have to mind your posture or language. Slouching in your chair, you chide him, “Don’t call me that. And no, I’m not jealous. In fact, I hope he runs away with him and never comes back.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises sardonically. “Now that you’ve finally dropped the royal act, we can for once have a conversation without all that empty polite drivel.”

“Ugh, I know. When did he…bring you back?”

The nightmare nonchalantly reaches for a cupcake from your dessert platter and takes a bite, and replies, “Several months ago, I think. I’ve lost track of time. No offence, but this party is a total bore.”

Shrugging, you find yourself agreeing with him. “Compared to your usual scene, it is rather tame. How was it?”

“The Darkness?” He pauses thoughtfully as he crumples the cupcake liner. “It’s non-existence, how bad can it be? You should try it sometime,” he says jokingly with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Then again, there’s him. He’s still the same piece of shit, isn’t he?”

“I guess change can be difficult for the Endless,” you remark soberly. “Anyway, what have you been up to?”

“Come to the dreams and I’ll show you.” He sneaks two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and hands one over to you.

After a nod of ‘thanks,’ you take a huge swig from the glass and try to jest, “And what, watch you chase down some poor bloke and eat his eyeballs out of a toothpick? Yeah, I wish. Even if I wanted to…” your sentence trails off, but, perceptive as ever, he immediately gets your meaning.

“He took your abilities away. No fucking way,” he concludes to himself disbelievingly. “Shit. Uh-oh.” Singing to the tune of ‘Here comes the Bride’, he hums, “Here comes the prick, all dressed in –”

“‘Black’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘prick,’ though,” you cut in, looking in the same direction he’s eyeing. True enough, you spot your Dream Lord approaching in long strides, his gaze locked in on you.

With a chortle, the Corinthian drawls out, “Well, if there’s anything you can get out of this ‘arrangement,’ it has to be the sex. I bet he fucks real hard.”

You pelt him in annoyance with a chunk of the chocolate-dipped pretzel you were about to nibble on, which he dodges with a snort of laughter. “Shut up, here he comes, act normal.”

When the Dream King reaches the table he left you in, he has his normal, stoic mask, but he addresses you both with a suspicious tone. “My Dream. Corinthian.”

“Hello, your majesty,” Dream’s perfect nightmare greets with a sneer. “Forgive me if I leave the festivities early, I have a dreamer to torment.” Getting up from his seat, he turns to you with an equally satirical tone. “By your leave, my lady?”

You roll your eyes at him and scoff, “Fine. Do come by for tea so we can catch up,” you say with a smirk.

He dramatically places a hand over his heart, exclaiming in mock surprise, “Are you asking me, a nightmare, on a date, my lady?”

But Dream is clearly having none of his nightmare’s antics. He says warningly, “Corinthian –”

“Alright, alright,” Corinthian mutters with his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. “Jeez, can’t take a fucking joke…”

With a final wave, he takes off from the dome while you watch his back the entire time, wondering what it’s like to finally exit and be free from all this drag.

Your king wordlessly takes the seat he left. An uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you, with you fidgeting with a mildly interesting chunk of ruby on your dress as he stares at you like he’s struggling to say something. Finally breaking the silence after a few moments, he says, “Your dynamic with the Corinthian –”

“He’s a friend, my Lord,” you couldn’t help interrupting him, knowing very well what he meant. He can’t control even the people you choose to talk to, can he? “Won’t your subjects find it odd that I don’t have any, save Lucienne?”

He purses his lips in acquiescence, but of course, he has to have the final word, as always. “Indeed, but I must ask you to tread carefully. I may have righted his flaws, but he is still a nightmare.”

At least he still has his dream-forming abilities, comes a retort in your head that you hold back, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere. Instead, you respond with, “May I be excused, my Lord?”

You find his presence to be stifling, so when he nods imperceptibly with his jaw clenched, you immediately give him a tiny curtsy and turn away, intending to hide and sulk behind one of the bushes at the corner to have a moment to yourself. Instead, a tiny force collides with your midriff, temporarily knocking the wind out of you.

“Princess, I’m so happy to see you!”

Ethan the Knight, Vanquisher of Dragons and Commander of Legions, has somehow made it to your party in his dreams and is currently hugging you with a strength a six-year-old isn’t supposed to have. Once he lets go of you, he flashes you with the biggest, brightest smile he could muster.

“Ethan! You found me again,” you say delightedly. The last time you met him, your time had been unfortunately cut off and you were unable to complete his dream, so seeing him this happy just warms your heart. You squat before him to match his height ignoring the fact that you were wearing heels. “I’m happy to see you, too! And I see you’ve brought your friends along,” you say, acknowledging the two other children behind him whispering to themselves. The boy mutters to Ethan, who had eyes only on you, “Is she really a princess?”

The little girl beside him whispers back, “Yes she is, dummy, can’t you see her crown?”

“Hello, you two! Are you enjoying the party?”

Both of them blush cutely at the same time at the attention you’re giving, but they both answer in unison, “Yes, your highness!”

“Although we didn’t get cake,” Ethan mumbles with an adorable pout. “And what’s he doing here?” he complains, pointing at your Dream Lord behind you, sitting on his table, watching the exchange with sharp eyes.

“Ah, well, he’s the twin of the evil king you see,” you answer carefully. “He rescued me from the tower. And you see that man over there with the fancy moustache?” you motion to Taramis serving one of the royal guests. “He can get you as much cake as you can eat. Go, and tell him I sent you.”

With a squeal of ‘thanks,’ he runs off to the head waiter, and the other boy follows along. The little girl, however, stays in place, fidgeting at the hem of her pyjama shirt.

Turning to her, you ask gently, “What about you, young lady? What would you like? Why don't you go with the boys and get something sweet?”

She just stares at you shyly through her eyelashes and responds quietly, “I’m watching my diet, princess. Mommy says I can’t have cake ‘cause I’ll get fat and then people will laugh at me.”

You’re taken aback at the little girl’s worry, but you never take the smile off your face - what she needs right now is reassurance, and you have plenty of that to give her.

“What’s your name, young lady?”

“Carrie,” she responds timidly with a small, hesitant smile.

“Well, Carrie, you happen to be in a magical place, where the calories here don’t count,” you say with a playful wiggle of your eyebrows.

“Really? You mean I can get a strawberry shortcake and vanilla ice cream too?” she says, her eyes growing wide at the thought of her finally getting to eat her favourite desserts.

Laughing at her cute reaction, you say, “And you can even put as much caramel sauce as you’d like,”

“I love caramel! Thank you, princess!”

Slowly getting to your feet, you watch fondly as she bolts toward Ethan and the other boy who is currently being served by Taramis huge platters of dessert you know they could never wolf down.

“You are good with them.”

Your Dream Lord had finally gotten to his feet and is now standing beside you, with his hands regally clasped together.

“I’m sorry, my Lord?” you ask with a confused expression.

He smiles at you with the softest smile he’s given you the entire day and amends, “Children. You are wonderful with them.”

Not knowing how else to respond, you choose your words cautiously. “Well, if the world treats them right, humanity might have a better chance.”

He only hums at your response with a look of deep contemplation on his face.

“My Lord, Carrie’s mother…” you plead to him, hoping he relents this time.

“I heard,” comes his short reply. “I shall have a dream look into it.”

“But I can do it if you just let me. I can fix it for her,” you beg in the softest of tones, wanting nothing at the moment but to ease the little girl’s body issues. “No child, nor anyone, deserves to be told such hurtful things.”

“This is neither the time nor the place, to discuss that matter,” he quietly castigates you with a firm look, a look that told he wanted to hear no more of it.

You hang your head, biting the insides of your cheek and wanting very much for this day to be over just so you could cry yourself to sleep in your absolute frustration.

***

You collapse on your Dream Lord’s bare chest with a sharp cry as you come on top of him, riding out your orgasm by grinding against him in soft thrusts before halting your movement altogether.

Your King had wasted no time turning your gown into sand the moment he had you to himself in his chambers after all the party guests had gone home. He had commanded that his new princess-consort fulfil her duties of pleasuring him, and tonight he had preferred you riding him out on the couch. It’s not like you had gotten used to his touches - far from it: you had only been doing his bidding because what choice did you have? He could very well send you back to the tower he had imprisoned you where he’ll likely force himself on you anyway.

He cups your face so he could kiss you fervently while his rock-hard cock, still lodged firmly inside you, pumps slowly in and out of your hole, a telltale sign that he wants more. One thing you had learned sharing his bed for the past few months is that his desire for you is insatiable and he had the stamina only an Endless had the right to possess.

But as he sucks your lower lip and squeezes your lower cheeks insistently, you find yourself getting weary of the act, and reasonably so in your opinion; you had been on four-inch heels the entire day, lugging around the heaviest gown you had ever worn in your life. You had all the reasons to be tired.

Your Dream King senses your hesitation, but that had never stopped him before, and he isn’t about to stop now. He flips you over with a growl; he makes you kneel on the sofa and cling to its backrest, while he positions himself behind you, intent on finding his release.

“My lord,” you attempt to reason. “I can’t take anymore…could we –”

“No, you can take one more, my dream.”

Feeling defeated, you brace yourself and squeeze the sofa’s backrest, letting out a whimper as he slides his hard length inside you and picks up a hard pace while he grasps your hips with both hands and brings you to him with every single thrust. Your moans and his grunts fill his chamber in no time, along with the wet, squelching sounds and the loud slapping of flesh brought about by your bodies coming together. Helplessly, you grip the back cushion shakily as he takes you with wild abandon from behind like his life depended on it. To deepen his thrusts and bring your bodies closer, he kneels on the couch and continues ploughing into you, suckling and biting down on every part of your skin his lips could reach while his hand snakes between your folds and massages your clit. By now, you’re clenching his cock uncontrollably and you’re screaming your throat hoarse - with a shriek that echoed in his chamber, your orgasm makes your vision fade to black as you let out a string of incoherent curses. Your master continues slamming hard into you before his orgasm shortly follows yours, and while you convulse beneath him he squeezes your ass to hold you still as he bites down hard on your shoulder. You could feel his warmth flood inside you, prolonging and intensifying your high.

“That’s it,” he whispers breathily against your ear. “That’s my good girl, taking all of my seed like the good, little dream you are. Take all of it.”

With a final pump and a growl, he finally stops moving within you, for which you’re thankful – you had started feeling sore right after your first orgasm from riding him. He pulls out of you, but he stays in place behind you. You expected him to carry you to the bed like he always does when you both finish anywhere else but the bed, but to your dismay, he parts your lower cheeks further.

From behind you, he declares, “I have always enjoyed watching my seed slowly trickling down your thighs, my little dream. It’s a vision made only for me - I imagine it filling your womb with life that we created together…”

But his meaning is lost on you, for you had started concentrating on not falling into exhaustion, barely registering his words. You feel him insert two fingers into your cum-filled hole, and pump a few times before withdrawing. He manoeuvres you to face him, so with you still being straddled at the front with his thighs preventing escape, he takes your chin with his hand, forcing your mouth open, and places the fingers coated with both your juices and makes you suck on them. He maintains his intense eye contact, watching hungrily as you suckle his fingers clean, your eyes swimming in tears of embarrassment. He slowly pulls his hand away, and with a tone of praise, he says, “You’ve done well, my dream.”

“And you have been doing well for the past months.” His grip on your chin becomes more gentle, as is his tone. “In honour of your exceptional performance, I shall grant you a boon. A gift.”

“My Lord, may I speak freely?”

“Yes, you may.”

You swallow nervously, already aware that he might not like what you have in mind.

“Then, give me back my ability to form dreams. Please.”

You watch as your King freezes at your request. Your heartbeat quickens as you peer into his darkening gaze - at last, he pulls away from you completely and walks away, effectively changing the atmosphere in the room.

“I don’t understand, my Lord,” you start, getting to your feet and grabbing a bathrobe that he had conjured out of thin air for you. “You asked, and gave me permission to speak my mind. I have told you what I wish. Take that as you may.”

“And you know my answer,” he speaks through clenched teeth. He faces you with a face contorted in a quiet rage he’s trying to reel in as he puts on his jet-black cloak, his eyes now close to matching the colour of his robes. “Have I not given you enough? Do you find my Kingdom wanting, so much as to desire the company of humans?”

“No, that’s not what I meant –”

“Or is it my company you find inadequate?” he growls lowly, his fists balling and quivering in his attempt to control his emotions. “If you’re not content with what I have so generously provided, shall I teach you a lesson once more –”

“If you could please, just listen to me for a damn second –”

“Shall I take it all away? Shall I send you back to the tower, and hope you could, at last, see that I have done my very best to keep you happy in my realm?” His fury is now emanating from him in waves of black smoke, his sand circling you threateningly.

But this display of power doesn’t strike fear in you. If anything, you grow more confused - had he not asked for what you wanted? He had seen with his own eyes how you had deteriorated in your isolation at the tower he’s imprisoned you, and now he’s contemplating sending you back there, just because you had answered his question?

“That’s your solution?” your response comes in a whisper full of conflicted feelings – you’re perplexed, disappointed, hurt – and your voice trembles in its gravity. “You’re willing to put me through that hellish ordeal again just because you didn’t like what you heard?”

But if he’s moved with your words and the way your tears pool at the corner of your eyes, he doesn’t show it. “Stand down, little dream – you forget your place.”

“No,” you say, wiping your tears away with force. “No, I will not! Will that be your solution every time I make a move that offends you? I have done everything you asked just so I could please you, but am I to walk on eggshells around you for eternity? You’re really willing to inflict pain on me that much just to drive a point?”

Your questions seem to strike a chord with the Endless before you, for he hesitates for a fraction of a second. “My dream, that’s not true –”

“You had promised me before that you’d never take my abilities away because you claim it was a part of me. So, congratulations, my Lord, for erasing that part of my identity.”

If he had responded to your soft emotional outburst, you never got around to hearing it – at that point, you promptly exit his chambers, slamming his door closed behind you, and run into yours. Just like you did over a century ago, you barricade the door with the couch and cry yourself to sleep, not understanding what or why you’re feeling the way you do and stewing instead in your mounting resentment with the King who had refused, even just this one time, to truly listen to you.

***

It has been a few days since your fight with your King, and you had not seen a hair of him since.

Not that it matters to you, anyway: you’re still wounded and angry at him, after all. Has he finally learned and decided to give you some fucking space, for once?

You’re not one to complain about this little development.

As you sit in the garden waiting for your company, you leisurely sip the coffee Morwyn herself had brewed, noting how she had taken to heart your preference. Leaning on the table sprawled with sweets she had picked for you, you absently toy on the whipped cream frosting that decorated one of the teacakes as you hear footfalls on the gravel approaching.

The friend you’re waiting for has finally arrived.

“What took you so long?” you say, grinning at the Corinthian. He does not wait for your gesture to join him – he simply plops down on the chair before you and helps himself to the coffee, and you watch with mild longing as he uses his dream-ability to warm the beverage.

“A nightmare held me up,” he replies cooly, as he takes a sip of his piping-hot drink. “So, you actually summoned me?”

“I did,” you smugly respond. “ It’s one of the many perks I get now.”

Corinthian lets out a snort of laughter, mouthing the words ‘fuck you’ before commenting, “You know, some of us have actual work to do?”

“I know, but I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do, babysit you?” He reaches across the table to swipe at the chocolate cake you hadn’t yet touched.

Putting on an indifferent air, you casually shrug, taking a bite out of a blondie bar. “Well, I hate to pull this card, but I am your princess, so…”

“Well, if you put it that way,” he says with a grin spanning from ear to ear. “I guess this counts as work. Well, thank fucking God, I’ve been on that human’s dreams since he brought me back, and he’s put me in charge of this new nightmare to ‘show him the ropes.’ I could be crafting the worst horrors of humanity, and here I am showing someone else how it’s done. It’s pathetic.”

Your interest is piqued at the mention of the new nightmare he’s mentoring. “What’s this nightmare like?”

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

Author notes on the Chapter:

Whatchutink of our dear perfect Nightmare and perfect Dream being besties? hihi

Oh and a wild Hob Gadling appears!!

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

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: 1/21/22

Edit date: 1/22/22

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

90 notes · View notes